Radclyffe - Safe Harbor

"I cant let them have sex in dark alleys or under the pier!"

"Why not?"

"Because its not safe! If I cant see them, I cant protect them! If a group of redneck toughs stumbles across two boys, or two girls for that matter, making out in some dark corner, they could do them real damage!"

Marge nodded in reluctant agreement. "Youve got a point, but there isnt much you can do about it. They have to be together somewhere, and most likely it wont be at parties, or dances, or at each others homes the way it is for straight kids. These kids feel like outcasts, and just about everything they see and hear reinforces that. They dont have much alternative to the dunes or the piers if they want privacy."

"A coffee house?"

"Good idea, but you have to remember that although Provincetown looks like the center of the gay world, most of these lesbians and gay boys dont live here. After the season ends, this town is about as prejudiced as any other. And the few gay kids arent going to want to make any public announcements, I wouldnt imagine."

"But at least for the four or five months of the season they can blend in a little," Reese observed, beginning to see the dilemma Brianna and her girlfriend faced. "Isnt there some place these kids can go?"

Marge nodded. "Theres a little hole in the wall out on Shank Painter Road that caters to the kids. The music is god-awful, and the foods even worse, but at least theyre welcome there. A couple of old queens own the place. They dont sell alcohol until ten oclock at night, which is how they get around having under age kids in the bar."

"Thats just up the road from the station," Reese remarked, wondering if Nelson Parker gave the place any thought. He certainly hadnt mentioned it to her as place she ought to keep an eye on.

"Yeah. I think theyre calling it The Lavender Lounge this year."

"Thanks, Marge. The information helps. I didnt know about this place. Ill have to drop by."

"Reese," Marge warned, "if you go in there looking like a cop, youre going to scare some kids away. They dont have much as it is."

"Point taken," Reese remarked. "Ill go in disguise."

" Yeah , right. With that build, and that walk, she just about screams "cop." Marge chuckled. "Try to blend in. Better yet, take a date."

"Are you volunteering?"

"Hell no. Then youd just be more obvious," she laughed. She grew thoughtful, then suggested, "Why dont you ask the doc! She can interpret for you."

"I hardly think I need a guide," Reese said, uncomfortable with the conversation suddenly.

"I just meant, shes a lesbian, and shes good with the kids," Marge said, not missing her friends discomfort. "Hey, Reese! Did you ever have a crush on one of your girlfriends?"

Reese stood abruptly, her face expressionless. "I didnt have any girlfriends. All my friends were Marines."

As Marge joined her for the walk back to town, she wondered about the strange life her new friend had lived.

Chapter Eleven

"Reeseyou there?"

Reese fingered the button on the microphone clipped to her shirt.

"I copy, Gladys."

"See the couple at the Lobster Pot theres a child missing."

"Ten-four," Reese said curtly as she began to hurry the few blocks to the restaurant. It was not unusual for children to wander away from their parents, but it was always cause for concern. Traffic was heavy and unpredictable, and with the miles of beachfront, the water posed a very real danger as well. She found anxious parents and a boy who looked to be about ten waiting for her.

"Im Deputy Sheriff Conlon," she said. "What happened?"

"Our daughter," the father began, "shes lost. We were just walking, looking in the windows. When we stopped for ice cream for the kids, Sandy was gone. We thought"

"Bill - " his wife interrupted in a cautionary tone.

"Its my fault," the young boy said tremulously. "I was supposed to be holding her hand, but then a couple of guys on rollerblades came between us and we got separated. She was still right beside me" he choked back sobs and hung his head.

His mother pulled him close. "Its all right, Greg, well find her. Its not your fault."

"How long ago did you last see her?" Reese asked gently, trying to keep them calm.

The husband and wife looked at each other in confusion. "Maybe a half hour?" he said uncertainly.

"And her full name?"

"Sandra Lynn James. Shes six."

"What is she wearing?" Reese continued, jotting notes on her small pad.

"Blue jeans, a yellow tee shirt and red sneakers," her mother informed Reese.

"Sheriff," the father said softly, "our daughter is handicapped."

Reese looked up quickly. "How?"

"She cant communicate very well. Shes not very verbal; shes easily distracted. She wont react the way a child usually does if theyre lost."

"What will she do?"

He shrugged. "Its hard to say. She might sit for hours watching something that catches her attention, or she may just wander."

"Can she swim?"

The mother stifled a cry and grasped her husbands hand.

"No," he said desperately.

"Tell me what she likeswhat does she like to do?"

For a moment both parents appeared confused.

"She likes the color red," her brother said into the silence, "and she loves birds, any kind of birds." He took a step toward Reese, his face determined "I want to go with youto look for her."

Reese knelt down until her face was level with his. "Your parents are pretty upset. I need you to stay with them, to make sure theyre okay. And I need you to think of anything else about your sister that will help us find her. Im going to give you a special number that you can call to reach me anytime. Okay?"

He searched her face, then nodded. "All right."

"Good," she said as she straightened. "Gladys," she signaled into her mike.

"Go ahead, Reese," a staticy voice replied.

"Wake up Smith, and have both him and Jeff Lyons call me. Inform the Chief, and the doctor, of what we have. If someone finds a little girl, they may take her to the clinic."

"Right away."

Reese turned to the family. "I want you to wait at the police station. Ill have an officer take you there in a minute. I want to start a store-by-store search back along the way you came. Do you have a picture I can take?"

"Yes," the childs mother replied, fumbling through her handbag for her wallet. "Heres her school picture." She smoothed the picture tenderly with the tips of her fingers before handing it to Reese.

"Please find her, Sheriff."

Reese tucked the photo into her front shirt pocket. "Yes, maam, I will."

Reese radiod headquarters as she walked to the nearest shop. "Gladyshave Smith pick up this family and transport them to the station, and have Lyons start a car check at the town line."

"You dont think someone took her?" Gladys gasped in alarm.

"Its routine, Gladys," Reese replied grimly. "And call me with any information you get, okay?"

"Absolutely."

Reese spent the next two hours personally talking to every shopkeeper west of the place where the Joneses could last be sure their daughter had been with them. She scanned the crowds constantly, checking the benches and doorways along the route where the child might have stopped. There was no sign of the child. Finally, she phoned the station to speak with Nelson Parker.

"Its no good, Chiefwe need help. Its going to be dark in an hour and a half, and it will be twice as hard to sort through the crowds. Shes either injured somewhere, someone has her, or shes hiding somehow. Can you get volunteers, with a copy of her picture, to start a street-by-street search?"

"Theres a womens health group thats pretty organized. They can pull people together faster than I can at random. Where do you want them?"