Chapter 15: We Have Something Else in Common

February 8, 2001, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Steve

“Just follow my lead,” Pete said when I saw a standard government Ford pull into the driveway.

I nodded and we waited for the FBI Agents to knock on the front door. I went to the front door and opened it, with Pete about a step behind me.

“FBI!” a female agent declared, showing her badge.

“Deputy US Marshal Pete Carston,” Pete said, showing his badge. “We have a fifteen-year-old female we believe is a runaway. I suspect that’s who you’re looking for.”

“Agent Janet Temple,” the agent replied. “A Francesca Corday?”

Pete looked to me and I nodded.

“Yes,” Pete replied. “She’s safe, and appears to have run away on her own volition.”

“Can we come in?”

Pete looked to me and I nodded. They had probable cause to enter even before Pete had acknowledged that Francesca was in the house, so objecting would do no good.

“This way,” Pete said, leading the agents to the living room where Jesse and Francesca were sitting.

“Young man, I need you to move away,” Agent Temple said to Jesse.

He got up and came to stand by me, and Francesca, who had been whimpering, started sobbing again.

“Francesca, I’m Janet,” Agent Temple said. “Your mom is really worried about you.”

“I know,” Francesca sobbed. “But she made us move and I couldn’t see my boyfriend!”

“Did you arrange with him to run away?” Agent Temple asked.

Francesca shook her head, “No. I just came here because I wanted to see him!”

“Who helped you?” Agent Temple asked.

“Nobody! I took the bus and train. I used to live in Chicago so I knew how to do it.”

“Have you talked to anyone in Chicago? On the phone or by the internet?”

“No. Mom wouldn’t let me.”

“Did anyone talk to you on the bus or the train?”

“No. Well, the bus driver when he checked my ticket. I just sat and read a book and nobody bothered me.”

“Agent Temple,” Pete said. “She’s obviously OK. Don’t you think you should call her mother?”

“What’s your involvement, Deputy Marshal?”

“I know everyone involved,” he said. “I was a few blocks away doing some advance work, and as soon as Mr. Adams discovered Francesca was here, he called my wife, who is his attorney, and she asked him to call me. As soon as he did, I came over, assessed the situation, and then waited for you to arrive.”

“How did you know we were coming?”

“My wife has friends at the Bureau and called one of them. They said you had the alert on Francesca and that agents were on their way here. I’m guessing her mother gave you this address, assuming this is where Francesca would come.”

“That’s correct, but you don’t have any jurisdiction.”

“On the contrary,” Pete said firmly. “I took a report of a runaway and under federal statute, as a sworn federal law enforcement officer, once I do that, I become responsible for acting on that report. The only reason I didn’t call the Bureau to report my discovery is because you were already on the way here. Yes, you’re primary on kidnapping, but not exclusive. Shall we have a turf war, or shall we call Ms. Corday and get her daughter home? There’s no crime here, Agent Temple.”

“You have a conflict of interest.”

“A charge leveled at my wife with regularity, as she’s a defense attorney. She and I are both professionals and do our jobs. She’ll be here in about ten minutes, as she represents Mr. Adams, who I’m going to point out, reported the runaway immediately.”

“After calling his attorney.”

“Come on, Agent Temple, you know how the system works and why someone in Mr. Adams’ position would do that. Asking for an attorney is not a sign of guilt, it’s a sign of wisdom. And you’re showing why right now.”

“He has a fairly thick file.”

“Of which nothing ever came because there was nothing there,” Pete said. “Which is another reason why he called his attorney. Look, this is an open and shut case of a runaway. Show me some professional courtesy and let’s get the young woman back to her mom.”

Agent Temple looked to her partner who nodded.

“Mr. Adams, may I use the phone?”

“Yes, go ahead,” I replied.

Agent Temple went to the phone, lifted the handset, and dialed. From the conversation I deduced she was speaking with the Agent in Charge in Chicago. She wrote down two numbers on her pad and when she finished the call, asked if she could make a long-distance call, which I agreed she could. The long-distance call was to an agent in Iowa, and I got the gist of the debate - Carol wanted Francesca removed from Jesse’s house immediately, if not sooner, but the FBI didn’t really want to take her into custody as she was in no danger. Agent Temple finished the call and invited Pete and me into the kitchen.

“Francesca’s mother is insisting we basically take her into custody to, and I’m quoting here, ‘protect Francesca from the boy she ran away to see’. Can you shed any light?”

Just then, Melanie came into the kitchen through the back door.

“Agent Temple,” I said, “this is my attorney, Melanie Spencer; she’s also Marshal Carston’s wife. Mel, she asked if I can shed light on the relationship between Jesse and Francesca.”

“Go ahead,” Melanie said.

“They’ve known each other from the time Jesse was about three months old,” I said. “They grew up together and were best pals. Puberty hit, and they became boyfriend and girlfriend, which is what all of us expected to happen. Francesca’s mother, Carol, lost her mind at the idea that at some point they were going to consummate the relationship. She moved to Naperville and divorced her husband to get Francesca away from Jesse, and when she discovered they were talking on the phone, picked up and moved to Iowa.”

“Do you know if they did?”

“Jesse’s private life is none of my business,” I said. “He lives here with his moms, a lesbian couple, and I live in the larger house with my wife, girlfriends, kids, and a few others.”

“Girlfriends?” Agent Temple asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not a subject for this conversation,” Melanie said firmly. “Mr. Adams is simply saying that Jesse doesn’t live under his roof, so he can only speak to what he’s been told.”

“All I can say is that she’s been here about thirty minutes,” I said. “And they’ve simply sat on the couch. The other girl in the living room is Jesse’s steady girlfriend, Libby. Once it became clear that he couldn’t see Francesca, he and Libby started seeing each other.”

“What do you propose to do, Agent Temple?” Melanie asked.

“Normally, in a simple case like this, we wait for the mother or father to come get the child. Except for the apparent meltdown by the child’s mother, I’d suggest we just wait here. But our agent in Iowa City said the girl’s mother was frantic that the young woman not be allowed to be here one second past our arrival.”

“Carol is unhinged,” I said.

“Steve!” Melanie reprimanded.

“Come on, Mel, it’s the truth.”

“Do you think she’s a danger to Francesca?” Agent Temple asked, immediately confirming why Melanie was telling me to shut up.

“No,” I replied hastily. “She’s just not rational when it comes to the idea that her fifteen-year-old daughter might decide to have sex.”

Agent Temple nodded, “It’s usually the fathers with regard to daughters, but I can relate; I have a sixteen-year-old daughter. I don’t see a choice except to take Francesca into what amounts to protective custody and take her to the Federal Building to wait for her mother to drive up from Iowa. The agent in Iowa City said Ms. Corday was leaving their office immediately.”

“That’s unnecessarily traumatic,” Melanie said.

“I agree, but I don’t see that I have a choice in the matter. Her mother believes this is an extremely dangerous situation and that her daughter is in grave peril, and we have to honor that.”

“She’s right, Mel,” Pete said. “Agent Temple, would you let ME bring Francesca downtown? She knows me and I think that would lessen the traumatic experience.”

“How about I ride with you, and Agent Callahan drives our car?”

“That’ll work,” Pete agreed. “Inter-agency cooperation always looks good. Let me talk to Francesca. Steve, please stay here.”

I nodded and Pete went into the other room.

🎤 Jesse

“Jesse, could your friend wait somewhere else?” Pete asked.

“I think I’ll just go home,” Libby said. “Jesse, I’ll call you later, OK?”

“Yes.”

She left and Pete knelt down in front of the couch.

“An FBI agent talked to your mom,” Pete said to Francesca. “She’s driving up from Iowa to get you, but she doesn’t want you to wait here.”

Francesca started crying and clung to my arm, “But I want to see Jesse!”

“I know,” Pete said gently. “But your mom doesn’t want you to, and because you’re fifteen, she gets to decide. I need to take you to the Federal Building to wait for her to get here.”

“No!” Francesca wailed.

“I think you have to,” I said gently. “Uncle Pete, I guess I can’t go along?”

“Francesca’s mom insisted she not be allowed to stay here or be with you.”

“What a ... never mind.”

Pete nodded, “I know. Francesca, I’ll be with you the whole time, and so will Melanie. You know her, right?”

“Yes,” Francesca sobbed. “But I want Jesse!”

“You have to go with Uncle Pete,” I said.

She started bawling, and I knew I couldn’t fix it, so I got up from the couch, took her arm, and gently lifted her up. I walked her to the kitchen, where Dad and the two FBI agents were standing.

“I’ll walk her to Pete’s car,” I said.

“No...” the lady agent started to say, but Melanie cut her off.

“Just let him,” Melanie said. “There’s no threat here. All of us know this is the product of a panicked mom. I know Jesse well enough that he won’t cause any trouble.”

“He won’t,” Pete said, following behind us.

I walked Francesca to Uncle Pete’s black Ford sedan, and hugged her tightly. She clung to me for dear life until Pete opened the passenger door and I helped her into the car. I buckled her in, kissed her cheek, then shut the door. Pete got into the driver’s seat and the lady FBI agent got into the back seat. The other agent got into his car, and they both started their cars, backed out of the driveway, and drove off. Mom One pulled into the driveway just after Pete had backed out.

“Jesse, is everything OK?” Mom One asked.

“No, everything sucks!” I said disgustedly. “Dad’s inside with Aunt Melanie.”

Mom One came to me and hugged me, and then we went into the coach house.

“What the fuck?” Mom One growled after Dad explained what had happened.

“You know as well as I do just how unhinged Carol is,” Dad replied. “The smart thing for her to do would have been to let Francesca stay here with Jesse until she arrived, but she’s so far around the bend she decided it was better to have Francesca sit in the FBI office in the Federal Building. At least Francesca knows Pete, which should help.”

“She’s a bitch!” I declared angrily. “And I don’t CARE that you don’t like that word, Mom One!”

“I have to agree with our son,” Dad said. “As crazy as Carla is, Carol takes the cake for the most unhinged person I know.”

“Is there any risk, Mel?” Jennifer asked.

“You mean legally? It’s highly doubtful. Jesse and Francesca haven’t been in contact, and having Pete here put the FBI on their back feet. They would have LOVED to pin something on Steve, but in THIS instance, he’s clean.”

“Excuse me?” Dad exclaimed in outrage. “THIS instance?”

Melanie rolled her eyes, “You were up to your eyeballs every other time; you happened to be on the correct side of the line, if only just. That thick file they have on you isn’t just made up!”

“More than half of it is about my relationship with Tatyana and Vanya, and you KNOW that’s bullshit! And the rest is either the Lentz, Littleton, Lisa fiasco or the Spurgeon debacle.”

“And a few other things, too,” Melanie said. “But anyway, no, Jen, you and Jesse are fine. Even if Carol tries to have charges pressed, if there was no contact between Jesse and Francesca, they’ll go nowhere.”

“Uhm, well, Birgit tried to call her for me,” I said.

“When?” Aunt Melanie asked.

“I think it was September 1st,” I said. “But there was no answer and we didn’t try again.”

“Birgit’s phone, not yours?”

“Yes. She called Francesca’s grandma to try to talk to Francesca, and that’s when we found out they had moved. Francesca’s grandma gave Birgit the number and she called.”

“Do you have the number?” Aunt Melanie asked.

I shook my head, “I didn’t bother. I knew her mom would never let us talk, so I just gave up.”

“Not quite that easily,” Dad said. “There was a lot of angst.”

“But you never talked to her or sent letters or anything?” Aunt Melanie asked. “Or had anyone talk to her for you?”

“No. Just that one time Birgit tried to call back in September.”

“With no phone records, no letters, and no other contact, I can’t imagine the FBI or police in Iowa will prefer charges,” Aunt Melanie said.

“Against me?” I asked.

“More likely against Mom One, but even more likely against your Dad. If I remember, Carol blamed him for everything.”

“She did,” Dad confirmed.

“You realize you were about two seconds away from DCFS being called, right?” Melanie asked.

“I know. But you know what I said is true.”

“Yes, and I know the context, too; the FBI does not. Anyway, I think things are OK, so I’m going to head home and relieve the babysitter.”

“Jonathan is eleven!” I protested. “He doesn’t need a babysitter!”

“He is SO you, Steve,” Melanie said, shaking her head.

She and dad hugged, and I rolled my eyes when, before she left, Melanie gave Dad a French kiss that made it clear she wanted to throw him on the floor and fuck him.

🎤 Steve

“I’m still amused that Melanie wants to fuck your brains out,” Jennifer said, laughing.

“Along with half of Chicago,” Jesse said, shaking his head.

“Are you OK, Ducky?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

“You mean about Francesca?” Jesse asked. “Yes and no. I’m pissed at her mom, and now I really miss her again. But I don’t know what I can do about it.”

“Me either,” I said.

“Dad, what are your syncopal events like?” Jesse asked.

“Why?” I asked, instantly worried.

“When I first saw Francesca, I felt dizzy.”

‘Oh, shit!‘ Jennifer mouthed, though Jesse couldn’t see it.

“How long did it last?” I asked.

“I don’t know? Maybe a minute? I took some deep breaths and it went away.”

“I guess you felt the same thing, right? You kind of turned pale.”

I nodded, “I did. I need to call Doctor Mary. She’s probably going to want you to come up to Mayo Clinic with me on Sunday night.”

“I can’t miss hockey practice on Monday and Tuesday, Dad!” Jesse protested.

“He really can’t, Steve,” Jennifer said.

“We also can’t wait for the playoffs to be over,” I replied “Jesse, you don’t have practice next Thursday, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Jen, if I can arrange for him to go up on Wednesday night and come back on Thursday evening, would that work?”

“You’ll need to talk to coach because if he takes a sick day, he has to have a doctor’s note to play.”

“I promise you that Mary will write whatever letter or sign whatever form is necessary, if it comes to that. Just call it a family emergency, and see how that goes. He’s hardly missed a day of school in nine years, and he has all A’s.”

“Including Spanish,” Jesse smirked.

“Watch it, Little Duck, or you’re REALLY going to need a doctor!”

“Uh-huh,” he smirked. “Bring it, Penguin!”

“Now boys...” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes.

“Let me call right now.”

I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial #2, which was Mary Whittaker’s mobile number. She answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Mary. I’m calling because I had a minor syncopal episode today, but more importantly, so did Jesse.”

“Bring him with you,” she said firmly. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Hockey playoffs begin on Saturday. He can’t miss two practices.”

“He needs to be checked.”

“I know. What if I send him up on Wednesday night and you send him home Thursday evening?”

“Alone?”

“Would you and Don mind adopting him for twenty-four hours? It’ll be good practice!”

“For needing to check myself into the loony bin!” Mary replied with a soft laugh. “Sure. Don can get him from the airport and Jesse can stay in our guest room. Do I need to provide a sixteen-year-old candy striper who’s into hockey for entertainment?”

I laughed, “He’s not me, though I can let you ask him!”

“Ask me what?” Jesse inquired.

“If she needs to get you a date while you’re there! A cute sixteen-year-old candy striper, maybe?”

“Hmm,” Jesse grinned.

“Steve Adams, you are going to corrupt our son!” Jennifer exclaimed playfully.

“Too late!” Jesse smirked.

“Probably not,” I said into the phone. “I’ll make the reservations and call you with the details. I’ll see you Sunday night.”

“Thanks, Steve. Make sure you both document what happened.”

“Will do.”

“And if it happens again before you get here, call Al Barton and go see Alejandra. That’s an order for both of you.”

“Got it.”

“And get me his medical records.”

“Jennifer and Josie will handle that. You’ll get them.”

“Thanks.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and hung up.

“Handle what?” Jennifer asked.

“She needs his medical records.”

“I’ll call Sofia and Doctor Kulczycki and get them faxed to Mary tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“What the hell is going on?” Josie asked, walking in through the back door.

“I’ll let Jen explain,” I replied.