Chapter 3 - Where He Took Her
I called Daniel six times.
He rejected every call.
On the seventh attempt, his phone went directly to voicemail.
I contacted the police and explained that my eight-year-old granddaughter had called me in fear and said her father was taking her somewhere during the night.
The dispatcher was sympathetic but careful.
“Does the father have legal custody?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a custody order preventing travel?”
“No.”
“Has he threatened to harm the child?”
“Not in words.”
That was the problem with people like Daniel.
They learned exactly how far they could go without leaving an obvious wound.
I drove back to his building anyway.
The doorman, Carlos, recognized me.
“You just missed them,” he said. “Mr. Price left about twenty minutes ago.”
“Was Lily with him?”
Carlos nodded.
“She was crying. He said she was tired.”
“What were they driving?”
“A dark SUV. Rental plates, I think.”
“Did Vanessa leave with them?”
“She was carrying suitcases.”
I showed him Lily’s photograph.
“If anyone asks, you did not tell me anything. But please save the security footage.”
His expression changed when he saw my face.
“I’ll tell the manager.”
I returned to my car and opened the tracking application connected to Lily’s new watch.
The watch was part of the birthday gift I had brought. It was designed for children, with location sharing and one-button emergency calling. I had activated it before wrapping it because Daniel rarely answered when Lily was with him.
A small blue dot appeared on the screen.
They were traveling west on Interstate 90.
I called Marcus.
He answered immediately.
“I found Northstar,” he said. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Later. Daniel took Lily. I have her location.”
“Send it to me.”
“He’s heading west.”
“Vanessa’s family owns property near Lake Geneva.”
“How do you know?”
“I started with public records.”
That was why I had called him.
Marcus sent me the address of a lake house registered to Vanessa’s aunt. I gave the information to the local sheriff’s department and requested a welfare check.
Then I followed.
Rain hammered the highway.
The blue dot stopped moving shortly before one in the morning.
By the time I reached the lake road, two sheriff’s vehicles were already parked outside a cedar house overlooking the water.
Daniel stood on the porch speaking to a deputy.
His arm was around Lily’s shoulders.
She wore no coat.
When she saw my car, her eyes widened.
Daniel pulled her closer.
“You followed us?” he shouted.
I got out slowly.
“I came because Lily called me.”
“She was confused.”
“She said she was frightened.”
“She’s eight. Children get frightened.”
The deputy raised one hand.
“Let’s keep everyone calm.”
Vanessa appeared in the doorway wearing a cashmere coat.
“This woman has been harassing us for months,” she told him. “She’s obsessed with Lily.”
I looked at the deputy.
“My granddaughter called me shortly before midnight and said they were leaving. She sounded terrified.”
Daniel laughed without humor.
“My mother is getting older. She forgets things. Sometimes she imagines conversations.”
He had prepared that lie long before tonight.
I turned toward Lily.
“Did you call me?”
Her lips parted.
Daniel’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.
She looked down.
“I don’t remember.”
That answer hurt more than if she had denied it.
The deputy crouched slightly to meet her eyes.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Do you feel safe with your dad?”
Lily glanced at Daniel.
“Yes.”
I understood fear well enough to recognize it, but fear was not always evidence.
The deputy spoke privately with me near my car.
“We contacted child services. They can follow up tomorrow. Tonight, she’s with her legal parent, the home has food, and there are no visible signs of physical injury.”
“She is being manipulated.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong.”
“But you’re telling me to leave.”
“I’m telling you that without a court order or evidence of immediate danger, I can’t remove a child from her father.”
Daniel watched us from the porch.
He was smiling again.
As I turned toward my car, another vehicle came up the driveway.
A man in a dark overcoat stepped out carrying a leather folder.
Daniel’s attorney, Stephen Vale.
“Mrs. Price,” he said, approaching me, “I have documents for you.”
He handed me an envelope.
Inside was a temporary restraining order prohibiting me from approaching Daniel, Vanessa, or Lily until an emergency court hearing on Monday.
The petition accused me of stalking, unstable behavior, attempted financial control, and threatening to take Lily away.
Attached to it was a letter from a physician named Dr. Raymond Keene.
The letter claimed that I had shown symptoms of cognitive decline.
I had never met Dr. Keene.
“This is fraudulent,” I said.
Vale’s expression did not change.
“You can raise that with the judge.”
From the porch, Daniel called, “You should go home, Mom.”
Lily began crying silently.
A deputy walked me toward my car.
I was opening the driver’s door when something struck the wet pavement beside my foot.
A small red notebook.
I looked up.
Lily stood at an upstairs window.
She pressed one finger to her lips.
Then she disappeared behind the curtain.
I covered the notebook with my coat before anyone else noticed and placed it beneath the passenger seat.
Only after driving two miles did I pull over.
The notebook contained pages of numbers written in Daniel’s handwriting.
Dates.
Dollar amounts.
Account names.
Some entries were followed by single words.
Mom.
School.
Insurance.
House.
Near the end, I found a page dated three weeks earlier.
Keene — $15,000.
Evaluation completed without appointment.
Vale files emergency petition Friday.
Monday: Mom signs conservatorship papers.
Below that, Daniel had written one final sentence.
Once Mom is declared incompetent, move everything before Marcus Bell finds it.
I read the line twice.
Daniel remembered Marcus.
And that meant my son had not merely been stealing from Lily.
May you like
He had been planning to take everything I owned.
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