The Long Arm of The Law (part 4)

(To catch up, here are parts 1, 2 and 3)

We wouldn't return to court until mid January. In between court appearances, we scheduled a week-long visit to see my sister and her family and enjoy the scenery of the Pacific Northwest. In the mornings I would descend the steep driveway to walk along the road that bordered the Puget Sound. Every morning provided a glimpse of different wildlife. In all of the times I've visited, I've seen bald eagles, seagulls, crows, bufflehead ducks, cormorants, harbor seals, harbor porpoises, and during this particular visit, I got to see river otters.

Cute but deadly!

The week we came home, we had to return the State's Attorney's office, this time to provide evidence for the second degree assault charge. We were prepared with a report from my daughter's doctor's office. A week and a half after her father hit her, I prompted her to visit her doctor because she had persistent headaches near the temple of side that he hit. The doctor's note detailed everything my daughter had shared, with the conclusion that she had a "possible concussion." I typed and printed a transcript of the voicemail he left. In December, I had bought and set up a printer so I wouldn't be stuck visiting the nearest a FedEx office every time I needed to print something.

I felt anxious about the possibility of meeting with the State's Attorney's office representative who called us when we missed the trial. In the back of my mind, I imagined he was angry, or at least annoyed that we had wasted their time preparing for a trial that the judge dismissed because we bailed. I knew part of this was my own baggage from being raised by a father who could switch instantly to anger when something went awry. When we returned to the State's Attorney's office with evidence in hand, I mentally prepared myself for the scolding we would receive.

My daughter and I returned to the State's Attorney's office armed with documents (receipts, as the youth say). We signed in and waited. The waiting area had another representative assisting two women. It sounded like a case of someone stalking and leaving multiple harassing text messages. According to the representative assisting them, it was hard to prove the messages were all from the same person because they were sent from different phone numbers. I thought of the ways people could commit crimes and evade charges by using technology to their advantage.

The representative who assisted us in September emerged from the back and we gathered around the same small round table in the glass enclosed room we had before. He kept a clean cut appearance, wearing a suit with a white button down shirt and tie, and wire rimmed glasses. Before we got started, he said "I notice you're emotional. Can you share what's going on?"

He had done his research. He had already checked the court case lookup website and saw there was an upcoming custody hearing in addition to the trial. We explained the history, and how this assualt charge was a way to get this pattern of abuse on the record. The representive seemed to understand that everything tied together and the outcome of this case could potentially impact other decisions. He wasn't angry. He didn't question why we went home before the trial started. I was so used to expecting anger from men that I wasn't prepared for one who wanted to take extra time to understand.

He said, "When I told you the judge dismissed the case, I misspoke." He looked at my daughter and said, "If you still want to file charges for the protective order violation, we can, it just has to go through administrative processing."

She agreed to follow through. The representative began to gather information about the second degree assault.

"Why did you wait so long to file charges?"

My daughter filed charges four months after the assault. She looked at me and I answered.

"She wanted to see if he was going to repair."

Lack of repair had been a chronic problem in my marriage and now I was watching the same problem repeat in my ex's relationships with our kids. People who fail to acknowledge the damage they cause spare themselves from the responsibility of fixing it. I chalked this up to deep shame; my ex prided himself on never hitting women, and he couldn't make that claim anymore. Having to acknowledge his actions, and work to build trust again required a level of capacity he lacked.

The representative turned to mmy daughter and asked, "What do you want to get out of this?" "I just want him to be accountable." The representative nodded. He asked my daughter if anyone else had been in the room when her father slapped her. She said no, and that her younger sister was waiting outside in the car.

"These things can be hard to prove when the two people involved were the only ones there." he said.

I knew he was letting us down gently, in case there wasn't enough evidence to convince the judge.

"There's a voicemail," I said. I nodded to my daughter to play the recording.

...I’m calling to apologize, I’m sorry for slapping you...

The representative's eyes widened. "HOLY SHIT," he said, "that's an admission of guilt!"

As the rest of the message played, the representative asked, "Does he always talk like that?"

"It depends on the circumstances," I said.

The representative's buttoned-up demeanor changed completely after listening to the voicemail. "Send me that file," he told my daughter, who immediately emailed him from her phone. I gave him a typed transcript of the message, and my daughter handed him the medical report from her doctor's visit. Before we left, the representative told us he would not be in the courtroom, but that the case was solidly in my daughter's favor. The trial was in one week and this time we would be prepared.