Chapter 5: The Man Who Had Been Watching
His friend's name was Tom Garrett, and he answered on the second ring.
"Ryan.
It's been a while."
"I need your help," Ryan said.
"Tonight.
It's urgent."
A pause.
"What kind of urgent?"
"Family.
A child.
A man who may be watching my house." Ryan moved into the hallway, lowering his voice further.
"I need to know what rights he has.
And I need to know how to stop him from getting to her."
Another pause, longer this time.
"Is the child in immediate danger?"
Ryan looked toward the living room.
"I don't know.
Maybe."
"All right.
Come to my office.
I'll stay late."
Ryan ended the call and walked back to the kitchen.
Sandra hadn't moved from the window.
"Get the bags," he said.
"I'll get the girls ready."
"Where are we going?"
"My brother's place tonight.
Then I have a meeting."
Sandra turned.
"With who?"
"A solicitor."
Her face tightened.
"Ryan, if you involve lawyers, this becomes official.
If Derek finds out—"
"Derek is already watching our house, Sandra." He kept his voice level.
"This is already official.
We just didn't know it."
He went upstairs.
He knocked on Lily's door and pushed it open.
The two girls were sitting side by side on the floor, the tablet between them, a cartoon playing at low volume.
Mia had a piece of toast crust in her hand.
She looked up when Ryan came in, and he saw the old wariness flicker across her face — that instinct to go still, to take up less space.
He sat on the floor beside them.
"Mia," he said.
"We're going to go stay somewhere else tonight.
Somewhere nicer.
Is that okay?"
She looked at him carefully.
"Are you going to send me away?"
"No," he said.
"You're coming with us."
"Promise?"
He held out his hand.
She looked at it for a moment, then put her small fingers in his.
"Promise," he said.
Lily watched this with great seriousness.
Then she stood up, went to her wardrobe, and pulled out her own backpack.
She began filling it with the focused efficiency of a child who had decided what mattered.
Stuffed rabbit.
Spare socks.
The book she was currently reading.
She zipped it up, then looked at Mia.
"Do you have a bag?" she asked.
Mia shook her head.
Lily unzipped her backpack, took out the stuffed rabbit, and held it out.
"You can have Gerald," she said.
"He's good for sleeping somewhere new."
Mia took the rabbit and held it against her chest.
Ryan stood up before either of them could see his face.
They left through the back door twenty minutes later.
Ryan carried Mia.
Sandra carried the bags.
Lily walked beside Ryan with her backpack on, asking no questions, understanding in the way children sometimes do that the adults needed quiet.
The grey car was still parked two houses down.
As Ryan buckled Mia into the back seat, he glanced up.
He couldn't see anyone inside the car.
The windows were slightly fogged.
He got in, started the engine, and pulled away without looking back.
Tom's office was a twenty-minute drive.
Ryan kept his eyes on the mirror the whole way.
The grey car did not follow.
But that did not make him feel better.
A man who had been watching for weeks did not need to follow.
He already knew enough.
Tom met them in the lobby.
He was a quiet man with a careful face, and he looked at Mia without surprise, which Ryan appreciated.
"She can wait with the children in the conference room," Tom said.
"There's a television in there.
My assistant will sit with them."
Sandra and the girls were settled.
Ryan followed Tom into his office and closed the door.
Tom sat down and folded his hands.
"Tell me everything."
Ryan told him.
All of it.
The wall.
The photograph.
Claire.
Derek Paulson.
The grey car.
The visit three months ago that Sandra had hidden from him.
Tom listened without interrupting.
When Ryan finished, Tom was quiet for a moment.
"The first thing we need to establish," Tom said, "is whether Derek Paulson has any legal claim to this child."
"He's the biological father."
"Biological paternity alone doesn't automatically confer parental rights, depending on the circumstances.
Was he named on the birth certificate?"
"I don't know.
I don't even know if Mia has a birth certificate."
Tom wrote something down.
"We need to find that out.
If Claire registered the birth without naming him, his path to parental rights becomes significantly harder." He looked up.
"Do you know anything about his background?
Criminal record?
History of violence?"
Ryan thought about what Sandra had said.
*He's dangerous.
He was dangerous then and he still is.*
"I know what my wife told me," he said.
"I don't know how much of what my wife told me is the full truth."
Tom nodded slowly.
"Then we start with what we can verify." He set down his pen.
"Ryan.
I have to ask you something directly.
What do you want the outcome to be?
For Mia."
Ryan didn't hesitate.
"She stays with me.
She's Claire's daughter.
She's my niece.
She's not going anywhere near a man who terrified her mother badly enough that Claire hid the pregnancy from her entire family."
Tom looked at him steadily.
"That's going to be a fight."
"I know."
"Derek Paulson will have lawyers too."
"I know."
Tom picked up his pen again.
"All right," he said.
"Then let's build your case."
In the conference room down the hall, Ryan could hear the faint sound of a cartoon.
May you like
And underneath it, just barely, he could hear two little girls talking.
He didn't know yet that Derek Paulson already knew where they were.
