Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “I want to help Madeline.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

  Caitlin hung up the phone. Never before had she offered to spend her own money on a client. As a public attorney she didn’t exactly have the highest pay scale, and because of Amy she guarded funds carefully. Her parents had left them a tiny trust fund and a small lump sum that she’d put down on their house, but many months she had to be careful in order to have enough for Amy’s day care, her medicines, food, and the mortgage.

  I’ll make Parker pay me back. She smiled because somehow, though he had fewer resources at the moment than she did, she knew he would fulfill his obligations. According to the information Sally had found, he always did.

  • • •

  Caitlin arrived at the Department of Child and Family Services ten minutes early. She wasn’t surprised to see Parker waiting in the cold outside the building, his shoulders hunched and his hands buried in his coat pockets for warmth. His face broke into a smile as she walked toward him.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Warmth spread through her. This man was beautiful. Not in the way that Mace Keeley was beautiful but in a way that made her nerves hum. Maybe she should take Sally’s advice and see where the attraction took them.

  His eyes passed briefly over her, communicating unmistakable approval. She wore only her gray business suit, but she flushed all the same. Stupid Irish coloring, she thought. Why was it so hard to maintain her poker face with him?

  He smiled and said with a bit of amusement in his voice, “Miss me?”

  “Desperately,” she responded airily. “I always miss my most problematic clients.”

  His smile didn’t change, but his eyes burned into hers. Who was she fooling? Not him and not herself. “Well, thanks for coming.”

  “Look, I told you once before,” she said as they headed inside, “I have no experience in child custody cases, so I don’t know what to expect. But I really don’t hold any hope of them letting you see Madeline until the case is over.”

  He held open the door. “I can’t accept that. I have to try.”

  Caitlin stopped in the lobby, looking at him for a full minute without speaking. She remembered how his lips had felt on hers, and how close they’d been in her kitchen. She remembered his concern for his daughter and how careful he’d been with Amy.

  She clenched her hands at her sides, steeling herself against the emotion in his face. “Okay, but here’s what I don’t get.” She kept her voice low so the few people across the room couldn’t hear. “You said you’d do anything to get custody of Madeline, yet there’s no record of a court battle or anything like it. You gave up custody of your daughter without a fight, and what I want to know is why.”

  His face had drained of color, and for a moment she regretted the question, but she had to know.

  “Madeline isn’t my, uh, biological daughter,” he said finally, his voice tense. “I mean, Dakota and I were married when she got pregnant, and I thought Madeline was mine, and I’ve loved her all these years like she was mine. But it turns out she isn’t.”

  Caitlin’s hands relaxed. That would explain a lot. If he wasn’t the biological father, he would have little standing in court. “So how did you find out she wasn’t yours?”

  He toed the floor with a boot-clad foot that reminded her he’d come directly from work. She would have rather had him dress up for this meeting, but it was too late now.

  “A few years after Madeline was born, Dakota told me she’d been with someone else and that he was the father.”

  The torture in his face was real, but Caitlin wasn’t about to go easy on him. “And you believed her? You gave up without a fight? Without proof?”

  He blinked several times. “What do you mean? You know how much I love Madeline, and how much I see her. I haven’t given up anything.”

  “I’m saying you believed a woman whom you claim has used drugs in front of her own child. You said you were married at the time of Madeline’s conception. So were you actually with her at the time? Were you living as husband and wife?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then how do you know Madeline isn’t yours?”

  “I figured women know these things.”

  “And when did she tell you this? Not when things were good, I bet.”

  His head swung back and forth. “No. It was when Madeline was two, and I came home from work and found Dakota and some of her friends passed out on drugs and Madeline locked in the back bedroom, crying. I was going to leave with Madeline, but Dakota told me she’d never let me take Madeline because she wasn’t mine.”

  “So you stayed.”

  “I stayed another year—and that’s when she left. Went to live in that house where they were making meth. She had her son there, and I know for sure he isn’t mine. Anyway, she let me see Madeline as long as I agreed to all her terms of the divorce. She’d bring Madeline to me then, and it was several months before I even found out where they were living. As soon as I found out where they were, I knew it wasn’t a good situation, and I got her into the house they’re in now.”

  “I hate to break this to you, Parker, but Dakota was probably lying to you about Madeline.”

  He groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. “I can’t believe I let her do this. I should have called the police the day I saw the drugs on her TV, or when she was doing drugs with her friends, but because I didn’t, Madeline’s in danger every single day.”

  Caitlin’s heart softened against her own will. It was hard to keep up indifference toward this man whose one look made her knees tremble. “Look, you’re not the first man this has happened to. If we can prove she’s lying, it only makes your case stronger.”

  “And if she’s telling the truth?”

  She knew what he meant. If the court ordered a paternity test and he wasn’t the father, he wouldn’t have much standing, despite his years of devotion. She shook her head.

  “I can’t risk it.” The ache in his voice made her want to comfort him. “Madeline couldn’t be any more mine no matter what genes she may have. I couldn’t love her any more or be any more responsible.”

  “At least we can play our cards a little better now that you know it’s possible she is lying. If she doesn’t bring it up, then we can assume either she doesn’t know for sure herself who the father is—or she knows it’s you and doesn’t want you to find out.”

  Parker gave her a half-smile. “That makes sense. If she was sure, she’d bring it out right away.”

  “Well, she could be reluctant because it makes her look bad.”

  He frowned. “Then I guess I still don’t know.”

  “You said yourself it didn’t matter.”

  “It doesn’t, except in the legal sense.” He glanced at his cell phone. “It’s time. We should find Mrs.Turnball.”

  • • •

  Parker shrugged off his coat as they sat in two of the three chairs in front of the desk. The woman facing them was unsmiling, her blonde hair cut close around her face, curling under in one long, tight curl that made Parker want to fluff up her hair to see if the curl changed shape. The style was unbecoming and decades out of date, and her reddish complexion did little to enhance the whole picture. Wrinkles gathered around her eyes, and laugh lines carved into her face. Parker had been prepared to hate this woman by the crisp, no-nonsense tone of her voice, but her face told him that if she had one fault it was caring too much. The sternness in her voice and the careful demeanor came from fighting for children, and he couldn’t fault her for that, even if she was misguided in his case.

  “Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Turnball.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her tone hadn’t changed, but he could see she was reevaluating him. He knew he was considered good-looking by women, and in his youth he’d used it to his advantage. But something told him if he tried to charm Mrs. Turnball, she’d see right through it. She was accustomed to people trying to fool her, much like Caitlin was in her line o
f work. Better to be sincere.

  Caitlin opened her briefcase on her lap and took out a pen. “My client would like to see his daughter.”

  “Uh, if you don’t mind,” Mrs. Turnball said, “the child advocate should be here during our conversation. If you’ll wait a moment, I think I hear him coming down the hall now.”

  A few seconds later a man appeared. He was round and short and sported a thick goatee. Not at all like Parker had envisioned his daughter’s appointed advocate. “Sorry I’m late,” he puffed, out of breath.

  Parker stood and offered his hand. “Mr. Reeve?”

  “Yes.” Mr. Reeve nodded to Mrs. Turnball and Caitlin before taking the last seat with a slight sigh of relief.

  “Okay, now that we’re all here . . .” Mrs. Turnball nodded to Caitlin.

  “My client,” Caitlin began again, “is here for two primary reasons. One, he’d like to see his daughter. Two, he would like CPS to open an investigation into his ex-wife’s drug use.”

  “We only promised to discuss visiting rights,” Mrs. Turnball said quickly.

  Caitlin looked thoughtful. “I understand that is a primary concern, but Mr. Hathaway has reason to believe Madeline is in immediate danger. He has personally seen drugs on the premises, and before he moved Dakota Allen and her daughter to the house where they now live, Dakota was living with a man who was picked up for having a meth lab on his premises.”

  “Are you sure she lived with this man? Will he swear to it?” asked Mrs. Turnball.

  “He was out on bail when he committed suicide last week.”

  “I see.” Mrs. Turnball made a note on the paper lying on her desk.

  Mr. Reeve grunted. “Is there any solid connection? Witnesses and so forth who can attest to her being at that place?”

  “Not names that I can give you,” Parker said. “Dakota wouldn’t even give the police his correct name.”

  Caitlin frowned at him, her eyes telling him to shut up, but Parker couldn’t stop. “The meth house is done and gone, so it’s not really the issue here. What Dakota is doing now is the problem. A few weeks ago I saw a bag of drugs on the TV. That’s why I did what I did. I can’t risk my daughter, and Dakota obviously isn’t ready to grow up and take responsibility.”

  “Look.” Mr. Reeve crossed his legs, leaning back on his seat, plump hands folded on his stomach. “Given the circumstances, Mrs. Turnball can’t open an investigation on just your word. You kidnapped your own daughter, Mr. Hathaway, and there are some who think you are inventing a drug problem for your ex-wife to protect yourself. If you had gone through channels—”

  Parker leapt to his feet. “If I’d gone through channels, Madeline might be dead right now, another headliner in the newspaper! This is a child we’re talking about. My child. How can you just sit there and do nothing?”

  Caitlin was at his side, her hand on his arm. “Parker,” she said in warning. “Please. Sit down.”

  He knew she meant sit down and shut up, but looking into her face he saw compassion and strength. This was her territory, and if he wanted to do Madeline any good, he had to trust her. Though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he clenched his jaw and sat. So much for his plan of getting his way with calm discussion.

  “Please excuse my client,” Caitlin said smoothly. “As you can tell, he’s very emotional about his daughter. Keep in mind that we are certain Dakota Allen is a danger, and that will be a large part of his defense. In fact, my department has a private investigator looking into the matter now, and we are also cooperating with Detective Sally Crumb at the police department. We strongly feel it is only a matter of time until we are able to obtain solid evidence. However, that time is what we’re worried about.”

  Mrs. Turnball shifted uncomfortably, her lips pursed in a near scowl. “There isn’t much we can do about that.”

  “We just want someone to have a chat with Dakota Allen so she’s aware there is suspicion. Maybe make a home visit to see things personally.”

  Mrs. Turnball nodded. “Actually, I have talked several times with Ms. Allen, and we did visit her home. We found nothing to cause suspicion.”

  “We heard that someone from this office visited her. But was it a surprise visit?”

  “No.”

  Caitlin nodded solemnly as if having proven a great point, though Parker couldn’t tell if the others were impressed. They should be. She was incredibly confident, and her words made it seem as if the police were inches away from charging Dakota with drug use.

  Regret once again filled him. If only he’d called the police that day when he’d seen the drugs! But growing up as he had, the police had always been someone you ran from, not called willingly. How little he’d understood then how his actions would affect his future. Madeline’s future. He vowed to make it right, if it was the last thing he did.

  “I’ll take this under advisement,” Mrs. Turnball said. “But until the police are able to give us what we need . . .” She lifted her shoulders and hands in a delicate shrug.

  Caitlin inclined her head regally. “We appreciate any attention you give this matter. You should be aware, if you already aren’t, that there is a paternal grandmother who is ready and willing to look after Madeline until things are cleared up.”

  “We are aware of that,” said Mrs. Turnball.

  “As for visitation—” Caitlin began.

  “The judge has denied all contact for the time being,” Mr. Reeve interrupted.

  Parker had heard that at the arraignment, but it hit him just as hard the second time. His hands tightened on the armrests, and he had to swallow several times to rid himself of the sudden lump in his throat. He blinked hard to prevent tears.

  Caitlin’s hand was on his arm again, and slowly he was able to relax. “We do understand the reasoning behind this order,” Caitlin said, “but my client has not been found guilty. He is worried about his daughter and would at least like to see her to make sure she’s all right.”

  “I met with Madeline before I came here,” Mr. Reeve said, giving them a smile that was small despite the large size of his mouth. “That’s why I was late. Apparently Ms. Allen was pulled over for not using a child seat on the way to our appointment, so we got a late start. Madeline does miss you a great deal, Mr. Hathaway, and I personally believe it would be in her best interest to continue seeing you.” He glanced over at Parker and then away again, as if embarrassed to see his emotion. “If you can manage to get the case before another judge, I would be willing to recommend supervised visits.” He raised a hand as though to ward off another of Parker’s rants, though Parker had no intention of losing control again. “That’s the best I can do. I don’t know any judge who would give any more, no matter how strongly anyone urged it. And in good conscience, I couldn’t request more anyway. Your daughter needs security at the moment, and for better or worse, her mother’s house gives that to her.”

  Parker wanted to break the man’s head, but Caitlin was nodding. “We would very much appreciate your recommendation.”

  “We’re finished here, then.” Mrs. Turnball stood. “We’ll keep in touch.”

  That was it? Parker felt numb. Did these people even see Madeline as a person? “Please,” he said, his voice sounding gruff even to his own ears. “Please help my little girl.”

  “We’ll do everything we can, I assure you.” Mrs. Turnball led the way to the door, ushering them out. Mr. Reeve stayed behind, and Parker felt their eyes on him and Caitlin as they moved down the hallway.

  “What a waste of time,” he murmured as they rounded a corner and the eyes fell away.

  “On the contrary,” Caitlin said, slowing to a stop. “With Mr. Reeve’s promise, we’ll be able to see a different judge and get you temporary visitation. That’s something. Then there was the car seat incident. Not a good thing in their sight, I’m sure. I hoped Sally would get to it in time.”

  “That was your doing?”

  Caitlin shrugged. “The law in Utah says that even four-yea
r-olds need to be in some kind of a seat. Dakota wasn’t using one and got pulled over. Anyway, I think you impressed Mrs. Turnball.”

  “Me?” He wanted to gape at her. “I lost control.”

  Caitlin’s hand went to his face, her fingers sliding across his cheek and up to his eye. Her fingers came away wet. “I think it’s apparent you love your daughter, that’s all.”

  His skin burned where she had touched him. “She called me today. She’s all right. So far.”

  Caitlin smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “Thanks for what you did in there.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Look, I know you’ve already worked late, but would you like to have dinner? My treat.”

  She hesitated, and he took that as willingness. “There are a few things we need to discuss,” she said, “but I have to get back to Amy. Especially after last night.”

  “Oh, I meant her, too. Of course. I like Amy. She reminds me a lot of Madeline. In how they think and act, I mean.”

  Caitlin’s eyes met his, her top teeth coming down on her bottom lip. He followed the gesture, remembering how soft her lips were.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “But I’d better choose the place. Amy can be interesting to take out. We can’t go to any restaurants with play areas for children because she’s too tall for the height requirement. She gets really upset when the employees kick her off the equipment.” She took out her cell phone to check the time. “Looks like I’d better pick her up now.”

  “I’ll follow you,” he said, motioning toward his truck.

  “What about a place to stay?” She asked this with a hint of reluctance, as if afraid he might want to spend the night at her place. But that was far from his plans. He wasn’t into frustration; he already had enough problems to keep him up at night.

  “I rented a room today in an apartment, sight unseen. I paid for a week, and I can stay on a weekly basis if I want to continue. There’s no lease or strings, which is great given my situation. Like a motel, only cheaper. The apartment’s in West Valley. Not too far from you. Close to the construction site. Supposed to be furnished and have laundry service once a week.”