He’d had a call from Troy, too. The Arizona statute his lawyer had warned him about was going to protect Susan. Unless Kirk could come up with much more substantial evidence to show that the father named on Colton’s birth certificate was not his biological father.
Kirk needed a new lawyer.
And someone who had authority in the Arizona court system.
After ten minutes of pacing, Kirk was back in his car, heading out of the elite neighborhood that no longer felt like home. A few minutes later, he parked in the space he’d grown, over the past couple of years, to think of as his. He had some serious issues to ponder. And the only place he could find solace was with his daughter.
Alicia might not need him there. But he needed her.
And maybe, if he got lucky, Abraham Billings would wander by.
KIRK SEEMED DOWN when she met him at the end of her driveway at ten o’clock that night. More likely, she was projecting her own mood on to him. She’d just had one hell of an evening, to top off one hell of a day. She’d fixed sloppy joes for dinner—the twins’ favorite—and even that hadn’t been enough to ease the frowns from their faces.
Chandler’s problem was almost certainly the same as her boys’. They were worried about Abraham. Valerie sighed. There was no way she was going to escape the inner turmoil this night. She, who always played straight, hadn’t done so in this particular situation. She’d assumed the end justified the means. Like Thomas?
And maybe that was fitting. She could have prevented at least some of this.
“The boys tell me that Abraham Billings missed practice again today,” she said, determined to get the discussion over with.
Starting off down the street, Kirk nodded, though the motion was barely discernible in the darkness.
He told her about his concern for Abraham, expressing a level of caring she hadn’t realized he felt for the boy. She’d known he watched out for Abraham, not that he’d become so involved, so determined to help the boy and end his suffering.
“I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow,” she blurted when she could think of nothing else to say. She was too tired.
And she’d just spent the past few hours serving platitudes to her sons. What she’d needed to do was tell someone that she was making herself crazy worrying about the boy. At various moments she found herself imagining what Abraham might be doing right then. And hoping he was okay. That he was accepting things for now. Settling in.
“Steve McDonald said Abraham had the flu yesterday.” Kirk couldn’t seem to get off the subject, no matter how little she contributed to it.
She felt like such a fraud, walking beside him, listening to him as though she knew as little as he did. When, in fact, she knew exactly where Abraham was.
He was in a specially chosen foster home on the west side of Phoenix. Far enough away that there was no risk he’d run into his mother or anyone he knew. Seeing familiar people made the transition so much harder.
“Then he was probably still sick today and he’ll be back tomorrow,” she said again, wondering why on earth she continued to suggest something she knew for certain wouldn’t be happening. Why couldn’t she just plead ignorance and let him talk?
Why did this boy, this case, matter so much?
He shook his head. “He wasn’t sick in bed yesterday.”
Valerie slowed, too exhausted to keep up the pace they’d set on earlier excursions. “How do you know that?” She was careful to sound merely curious—continuing the duplicity.
“I saw him yesterday afternoon, hanging out not far from the park where he lives.”
She had to know if the boy had acted strange—stranger than warranted for ditching practice and being caught by your coach. Strange enough to suspect he’d already been bruised by then.
Or had somebody hurt him the previous night?
“You think he just lied about being sick to cut school?”
“No.” Kirk shook his head. “Something was wrong. I just don’t know what.”
She slowed her pace more as her adrenaline sped up. “Why do you say that?”
“He was pretty bruised.”
She hadn’t wanted to hear that. Although hearing that he’d been okay the previous afternoon wouldn’t have changed what she’d seen that day.
“Did you ask him about it?”