I sat up. “What’s he doing out there?”
“Keeps going to the same spot. I looked, but didn’t find anything related to the little girl.”
I punched the seat. “They all could have done it.”
“You sure your client didn’t?”
“Fuck off.”
He laughed. “Daddy dearest’s visits to see his wifey’s sister are getting more frequent. He didn’t even bother to leave twice this past week.”
“He still dealing?”
“Yeah. Pretty sick selling dope at the kid’s soccer games.”
“Christopher play?”
“Sits on the bench and sulks.”
I switched the phone to my other ear. “What about the mother?”
“Hasn’t left the house since I started watching. She sits in a rocking chair in the girl’s room. Stared at the bed for the hour I had eyes on her.”
I drummed my fingers on my knee. “Think there’s a chance the kid did it?”
He sighed. “Honestly, yeah. He ain’t normal. But the skinny bitch that’s his mother? She ain’t normal either.”
“Keep watching. I need something by next week.”
“I’m not a miracle worker.”
“Try.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Marlow
“Patrick’s been arrested.”
I shot up from my seat and pressed the phone to my ear. “Why are you telling me?” I forced the indifference into my voice even as I felt sick.
“He’s the father of your child. You’ve got some sort of bizarre relationship going on. And the other day, it seemed like you cared.” Andrew rattled off reason after reason when none of them even touched close to the truth.
“In case you didn’t notice, he doesn’t care about Blake or me. Was he anywhere to be found after the hearing?” I’d expected him to be, and it hurt worse than I cared to admit when he wasn’t. Whether it was fair or not, it was just the way I felt.
“I knew you were pissed,” he said almost triumphantly.
“How much did you wager with Holt?”
“Five bucks. And I told him not to hang around. Not with all this shit he’s in.”
“He could’ve called. For all he knows, Blake’s with—” I couldn’t finish the sentence, the pain at the thought of my baby being anywhere but with me too much.
“Marlow, the man has been accused of rape.”
We were quiet for a minute.
“Hypothetically speaking. If this were you and Trish in the situation, what would you do?”
“C’mon. I’m not going to speculate on things I know nothing of.”
“Fine.” I tapped my foot on the linoleum kitchen floor. “If you’d been there for her when she really needed you and then disappeared, what would that mean?”
“This is Patrick we’re talking about. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“You’re no help.”
“I’ve never seen him the way he is with you and Blake. He loves you. That’s why he was there the other night.”
The words struck me like a blunt force object. I felt that in the way he held me. He never made any false promises.
He never let me go.
“Have you talked to Dad?” My throat was dry. I cleared it to no avail.
“About thirty minutes ago. He’s waiting for Mrs. Quinn to come by. They’re going to play checkers or bridge or something.”
What?
“Last I heard they weren’t speaking.”
“He’s barely speaking to anyone, but somehow he must’ve gotten enough out to patch things up.” He sounded as surprised as I felt. “We still on for tomorrow night?”
“You better be there.”
I ended the call and picked up Blake from his chair. “How do you feel about going to see Grandpa?”
“How.”
“You should’ve been an attorney.”
“I’m insulted by that,” I said to Kane Zegas as I handed the woman behind the glass my driver’s license.
“You get what you want. That’s an admirable quality.”
“Patrick isn’t out of here.” I surveyed the bland receiving area of the jail. Gray. Everywhere.
“Do you have any idea what it took to even allow him a visitor?”
“If I cared, I’d have asked.”
The woman didn’t smile as she slipped my identification back toward me.
“See. It’s not too late for you to go to law school.”
“I’m forty-one.”
“Over half your life left.”
“Are we really having this conversation?”
“I can’t represent you with the custody since Patrick is my client now.”
“Whatever.” I waved him off.
“I knew you wouldn’t want to go through with it anyway.”
“It’s a moot point if he’s in prison,” I hissed.
“He won’t be.”
We wandered toward a metal door with no window.
“You better hope he’s not.”
“From what I understand, you think he’s guilty,” he said, keeping his voice low.
I glared as a lock clicked and an officer cracked open the door. He flicked his gaze to Kane.
“Twenty minutes. Best I can do.”
“We appreciate your generosity.”
Who knew he could schmooze when necessary?
Without a word, I followed the officer. Kane stayed put.
The gray theme continued down the hall, although the shades varied. My palms were sweaty by the time we stopped in front of a seal-colored door. What if Patrick didn’t want to see me?
Keys jangled. Metal rubbed. Cool air chilled my skin.
He sat at the table, still in a suit, his head bowed. Even as the officer locked us into the room, he didn’t look up.
I rushed over, perched on the table right next to him.
“We’re getting you out of here.”
Confused eyes greeted mine before they turned vacant.
“Take care of Gum—the baby.” His voice was flat.
“We’re supposed to do it together.”
“Gonna be hard from in here. They may freeze my assets, but Zegas already set up a trust.”
My chest seized. “You were arrested and already had time to set up a trust?”
“I did it as soon as I found out about her.” He stared at the wall straight in front of him.
“We’ve only got twenty minutes.”
“Why are you here?”
“For you.”
“I’m glad Blake’s home. Is he okay?” His tone was sullen.
“How do you know he’s home? Did Andrew tell you?”
He shrugged. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You left.”
He yanked his gaze to mine. “No, Wicked. I never did.”
“After the hearing. You weren’t in the car.”
“You didn’t need me anymore.” He dropped his chin.
“That’s where you’re wrong. The damnedest thing happened. Somehow in all your infuriating ways, you managed to make me love you.”
“You don’t love me.” It was spoken
