Chapter 5
Raymond refused to speculate without confirming the records.
I respected that.
But waiting for the truth was agony.
For the next hour, I sat at my desk while Alicia played outside with Lily.
Their laughter drifted through the window.
It should have made me happy.
Instead, every happy sound reminded me of how close I had come to losing my daughter's trust.
At eleven, Raymond called back.
"I verified the public court records," he said.
"What did you find?"
"Denise was involved in a custody dispute twelve years ago."
I frowned.
"Jordan's father?"
"Yes."
I knew Denise had divorced Jordan's biological father, Anthony Walker, when Jordan was very young.
She had always described Anthony as irresponsible.
Someone who disappeared whenever responsibility became difficult.
According to Denise, he had never cared about being a father.
"What happened?"
Raymond paused.
"The filings show a disputed allegation that Denise interfered with scheduled parenting time and gave conflicting information about Anthony's whereabouts."
I sat back.
"Did the court find she did anything wrong?"
"Not on every allegation. Some matters were settled without findings. But there was a court order requiring both parents to communicate through a parenting application."
My mind raced.
Denise had told me Anthony abandoned Jordan.
But these records suggested a much more complicated story.
"Does Anthony still have contact with Jordan?"
"That's something you'll need to confirm through proper channels."
After the call, I sat staring at my desk.
I thought about all the times Jordan asked why his father didn't come around.
Denise always had an answer.
He forgot.
He was unreliable.
He didn't care.
What if those answers weren't true?
I didn't want to frighten Jordan with accusations.
So I waited until he called that afternoon.
"Hey, Mr. Marcus."
"Hey, buddy."
He sounded nervous.
"Mom says we're staying at Grandma's for now."
"That sounds okay."
He hesitated.
"She says you don't want us anymore."
I closed my eyes.
"Jordan, that's not true."
"Really?"
"Really."
He breathed out.
"I miss Lily."
"She misses you too."
There was a pause.
Then he asked, "Can I ask something?"
"Anything."
"Did my dad really stop trying to see me?"
The question nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.
"Why are you asking?"
"Because Mom says dads leave when they find better families."
I stared at the wall.
"Jordan, I can't speak for your father. I don't know the whole story."
"But you don't think I'm a problem?"
"Absolutely not."
His voice cracked.
"Okay."
When we ended the call, I knew I couldn't ignore his pain.
That evening, I called Denise.
She answered with obvious irritation.
"What now?"
"We need to discuss Jordan."
"My son is none of your business anymore."
"I've been helping raise him for four years."
"And now you're throwing us away."
"That's not what happened."
She scoffed.
"Then why are we living at my mother's house?"
"Because you tried to arrange for Lily to leave without her parents' agreement."
Silence.
Then she said, "You're making everything sound worse than it was."
"Did you tell Jordan his father abandoned him?"
Her breathing changed.
"Why?"
"He's hurting."
"Anthony walked away."
"Then why did the court require communication through a parenting application?"
Another silence.
"Have you been digging into my past?"
"I spoke with an attorney."
Her voice rose.
"You had no right!"
"I had every right to protect my daughter."
"Leave my past alone."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Denise had never reacted that strongly to a question before.
The following morning, Alicia came into the kitchen holding her laptop.
"Marcus, you need to see something."
She placed it in front of me.
Evelyn Carter had sent the available records through a secure process.
There was the inquiry.
The car reservation details.
The claimed custody information.
And a copy of the authorization form bearing my name.
I opened it.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
It looked like mine.
Almost.
But the final stroke was wrong.
And the date was a day I had spent traveling for work.
I pulled up my calendar.
Then my hotel receipt from that trip.
Alicia stared at me.
"You were in Dallas."
"Yes."
"Could Denise have emailed it to you?"
"She didn't."
Raymond advised us to preserve the original electronic file and have the signature examined.
I did exactly that.
But another detail caught my attention.
The form included a statement about Lily's alleged emotional problems.
It claimed she suffered from repeated aggressive behavior.
My hands shook.
"She made Lily sound dangerous."
Alicia read the statement.
Her face tightened.
"She's trying to justify removing her."
"There's more."
At the bottom, Denise had written that the household faced serious financial hardship.
That was another lie.
My income was stable.
Our mortgage was current.
Both children had everything they needed.
Why would Denise invent financial problems?
Raymond asked the same question later that day.
"I recommend obtaining complete records for the relevant joint accounts," he said.
I logged into our bank.
And discovered something that made my pulse race.
Several transfers had been made from our joint household account over the previous six months.
Small amounts at first.
Then larger ones.
All directed toward an account labeled DW CONSULTING.
I recognized the initials.
Denise Walker.
Her former name.
The total was nearly thirty thousand dollars.
I stared at the figures.
Denise had told me she was saving for our family vacation.
But the money had gone somewhere else.
I contacted the bank to ask for records and to review our account access.
Then I called Raymond.
He asked me not to jump to conclusions.
A transfer between shared funds and a spouse's account wasn't automatically a crime.
We needed to understand the account ownership and purpose.
I agreed.
Still, something was terribly wrong.
That evening, Jordan sent me a message.
Mr. Marcus, I found something at Grandma's house.
I replied immediately.
What did you find?
A photograph appeared.
It showed a man holding a much younger Jordan at a playground.
On the back, someone had written:
For my son. I'll always come back for you.
Jordan sent another message.
Mom told me to throw it away.
Then a third.
But I found letters too.
Letters from my dad.
May you like
I stared at the screen.
And realized Denise might have been keeping two children away from people who loved them.
