Presumption of Guilt Read Online Free

gonna take all three!”
    â€œLet me try,” he said. “That’s all I ask, Sheila. Just give me a while to try.”
    She moaned. “If you don’t send them to the home, you might have to split them up.”
    One of the boys gasped, and the other burst into tears again.
    â€œNo! Please don’t do that.”
    â€œWe won’t,” Nick assured quietly. He pulled a tissue out and wiped the little boy’s nose as he shot Sheila a look. “Sheila, why don’t you let me take care of this, and you go on home? I can handle it.”
    â€œReally?” She looked at him as if he’d just offered her a week’s vacation. Then she seemed to deflate. “I can’t. Not until they’re placed. I’ll give you an hour to try to find a family to take them. If you don’t, I’m taking them to SCCH myself. I’ll work on the paperwork, and you work on the phone calling. Here, give me the baby.”
    â€œNo, she’s fine,” he said softly. The baby was relaxing on his shoulder, and he could feel that she was close to falling asleep. “I can call while I hold her. And if I need a hand, my buddies here can help me, can’t you, guys?”
    The boys nodded quietly.
    â€œAll right,” she said. “I’ll be in here. Buzz if you need me.”
    He ushered them down the hall to the corner of the building he sometimes shared with two other caseworkers—except that they had both quit in the last month and hadn’t yet been replaced. He looked over the baby’s head to the boys. “You gonna eat that candy, or just let it melt in your hands?”
    Matt put it into his mouth, but Chris just sat there. “Do we have to go anywhere with her?”
    Most of the kids didn’t like Sheila, which didn’t surprise Nick. She could be cold sometimes, but he knew her coldness was stress-induced. She’d been at it longer than he had, and it was a job that got to you over the years. He sat down and leaned back in his chair, still stroking the baby’s head. “I’ll try to find a place for you myself, guys. And if I can, then I’ll take you there.”
    â€œWhy can’t we stay with you?” the little one asked.
    Nick smiled and messed up the boy’s hair. “Because I’m not home much, kiddo. I couldn’t watch you.”
    â€œWe can watch ourselves. We’d be okay. We do it all the time.”
    â€œNo can do. But trust me with this.” He picked up the phone, breathed a silent prayer for help, and dialed the number of his first choice—a family he’d saddled with four new kids just this past week.
    When they turned him down, he tried the next one on the list, and then the next, until he had almost given up. Little Matt had lain down on the small, garage-sale sofa against the wall, and had gone to sleep with his head in his brother’s lap. The baby slept soundly, too. Chris just stared back at him with red, dismal eyes.
    Not the St. Clair Children’s Home , Nick prayed. There’s got to be somebody else.
    Holding the phone between ear and shoulder, he dialed the next number—a new family on their list. A retired couple who had volunteered to be foster parents, they had just today completed all the requirements to be accepted into the program. This would be their first placement call. He wondered if dumping three children on them this late at night their first time might frighten them away. He had no choice but to try.
    â€œHello?” The woman sounded kind—a good sign. He hadn’t been the caseworker assigned to her—Sheila had done it—so he hadn’t met her before. He hoped her voice wasn’t deceiving.
    â€œMrs. Miller? This is Nick Hutchins with HRS. I have three children I need to place temporarily tonight. They’re from two different families, so if you can’t take all of them, we can give you one or two of them. But I’d