Chapter 8
David disappeared for thirty-six hours.
By Sunday morning, his face was on local news websites.
Police used careful language.
Wanted for questioning.
Financial crimes investigation.
Possible identity theft.
Nobody mentioned Margaret’s death.
Not publicly.
Claire barely slept.
Neither did Lisa.
I spent Saturday night in a chair near the front window even though police had told us David was unlikely to return.
Every noise sounded wrong.
Every car slowing outside made me look up.
At three in the morning, Claire came downstairs.
She found me awake.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
She sat on the couch.
For a while, we watched the dark street.
Then she asked, “Were you ever scared of him?”
“David?”
“Yes.”
I thought about it.
“Not until Friday.”
“Really?”
“He was unreliable. Selfish. Angry sometimes.”
I shrugged.
“But dangerous?”
“You didn’t think so.”
“No.”
“Mom did.”
I looked at her.
“She told you?”
“Tonight.”
I waited.
Claire pulled her knees toward her chest.
“She said one reason she never pushed harder for visitation was because she didn’t trust him after the drinking incident.”
“That’s true.”
“You agreed?”
“Yes.”
She looked hurt.
“Did you ever try to adopt me?”
That question took me back fifteen years.
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
“When you were eight.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“David refused.”
Claire stared.
“He wouldn’t visit me, but he wouldn’t let you adopt me?”
“Basically.”
“When did he refuse?”
“We sent papers twice.”
“He answered?”
“Immediately.”
A bitter laugh escaped her.
“Of course he did.”
I nodded.
“He said he would never surrender his rights.”
“Why?”
“He said you were his daughter.”
Claire stared into the dark.
“I hate that sentence.”
“Which one?”
“‘You’re my daughter.’”
I understood.
For David, the words had often meant ownership.
For me, they had always meant responsibility.
Same words.
Different meaning.
Claire asked, “Did you want me to have your last name?”
“I wanted you to have whatever name made you happy.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
She smiled back sadly.
“I used to write Claire Carter in notebooks.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“When I was like twelve.”
“You never told me.”
“I thought it would hurt Mom.”
“Why?”
“Because Bennett was her name once too.”
I laughed softly.
“Your mother would’ve rented a billboard.”
Claire laughed.
Then became quiet.
“I wanted to ask you to adopt me when I turned eighteen.”
My chest tightened.
“Why didn’t you?”
“David.”
Of course.
“I thought if I did it, I’d be admitting he was never coming back.”
She looked embarrassed.
“That sounds stupid.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I kept thinking there would be a right time.”
“There rarely is.”
She nodded.
Then looked at me.
“Would you have said yes?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
She laughed nervously.
“Wow. Okay.”
“Claire.”
“It’s fine.”
“I would’ve said yes before you finished asking.”
Her eyes filled.
“Oh.”
We sat quietly.
Then she whispered, “Would you still?”
That one hit harder.
“Still what?”
“Adopt me.”
“You’re twenty-three.”
“Adults can be adopted in Ohio.”
Of course the finance graduate had researched it.
I looked at her.
“Did you look that up tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Claire.”
“I’m not asking because I feel guilty.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Good answer.
She wiped her face.
“That’s why I’m not asking yet.”
I smiled.
“Okay.”
“I want to ask someday when it isn’t because I’m terrified and my biological father is running from police.”
“That seems wise.”
She leaned back.
“But I wanted to know if the answer had changed.”
“It hasn’t.”
Her eyes closed.
“Thank you.”
At seven, Lisa found us asleep.
Claire on the couch.
Me in the chair.
She covered Claire with a blanket and made coffee.
For two hours, things almost felt peaceful.
Then Evan called.
Claire answered immediately.
“Hey.”
His voice was frantic.
I could hear it from the kitchen.
“Claire, Mom’s gone.”
She stood.
“What do you mean?”
“She left early.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“She got a text.”
I moved closer.
Claire put the call on speaker.
“What text?”
“Dad.”
Lisa stopped pouring coffee.
Evan continued.
“He said he wanted to turn himself in, but only if Mom came alone.”
I swore.
“When did she leave?” Claire asked.
“Like twenty minutes ago.”
“Did she tell you where?”
“No.”
“Can you track her phone?”
Evan was already trying.
“Find My says unavailable.”
I called Detective Kim.
She answered on the second ring.
Within minutes, police were contacting Megan.
No response.
Checking traffic cameras.
Pulling cell records.
Claire paced the kitchen.
“Why would she go alone?”
Evan’s voice cracked through the phone.
“Because Dad said he’d kill himself.”
Nobody spoke.
Claire stopped moving.
“He said what?”
“He sent a picture.”
Evan began crying.
“He had a gun.”
Lisa sat down hard.
I took the phone.
“Evan, listen to me.”
He tried to breathe.
“Do you know if your dad owns a gun?”
“No.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
“No.”
“Did the picture show where he was?”
“I don’t know.”
“Send it to me and Detective Kim.”
A minute later, the image arrived.
David sat inside a vehicle.
A handgun rested against his leg.
There was enough background through the windshield to see trees.
A chain-link fence.
Part of a sign.
I enlarged it.
Three letters visible.
RIV.
Claire leaned over my shoulder.
“What is that?”
Lisa said, “River?”
I sent the image to Kim.
Police image analysts would do better than us.
Then Evan said something.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“That fence.”
We listened.
“I know it.”
“Where?”
“There’s an old baseball field near Grandma’s house.”
My stomach tightened.
“What baseball field?”
“Riverside Park.”
Claire was already typing.
Images appeared.
Chain-link fence.
Wooded parking area.
A faded sign.
RIVERSIDE ATHLETIC COMPLEX.
The letters visible in David’s photograph lined up.
I told Kim.
She ordered units there immediately.
Claire grabbed her shoes.
I blocked the doorway.
“No.”
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“That’s my brother’s mom.”
“Police are going.”
“What if—”
“No.”
She stared at me.
“Mark.”
“I am not taking you toward a desperate man with a gun.”
She looked furious.
Then stopped.
“I was about to say you can’t tell me what to do.”
“You can.”
Her eyes filled.
“But you’re right.”
She sat down.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
No update.
Evan stayed on speaker.
At twenty-seven minutes, Detective Kim called.
“They located Megan’s vehicle.”
Claire stood.
“Is she okay?”
“Vehicle is empty.”
“Where is she?”
“Officers are searching.”
“What about David?”
“Not located.”
My stomach dropped.
Kim continued.
“We did find a note inside Megan’s car.”
“What note?”
“It says, ‘He knows about the recordings.’”
Claire frowned.
“What recordings?”
Nobody knew.
Then Evan stopped breathing.
“Oh.”
“What?” Claire asked.
“My mom.”
“What about her?”
“She records stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Calls with Dad.”
Megan had spent years dealing with David.
Missed payments.
Threats.
Promises.
Custody fights.
At some point, she started recording conversations.
Evan knew she kept them on an external drive.
Claire asked, “Where?”
“At home.”
I called Kim back immediately.
Police went to Megan’s house.
Evan waited outside with a neighbor.
The drive was gone.
But Megan had backups.
Cloud storage.
Password protected.
Evan knew one password she commonly used.
He logged in while police watched.
There were dozens of recordings.
Years of them.
The most recent was dated four days before Margaret’s death.
Evan clicked it.
David’s voice filled the room through Claire’s phone.
“You need to stop talking to my mother about my finances.”
Megan answered.
“She asked me.”
“You keep your mouth shut.”
“She knows you took Evan’s money.”
“I said I’m replacing it.”
“You emptied his account.”
“I needed cash.”
“For what?”
“None of your business.”
Then Megan said something that made us all freeze.
“Margaret thinks you’re stealing from Claire too.”
David became quiet.
On the recording, Megan continued.
“She told me about the account.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She saw the paperwork.”
David’s voice changed.
“If my mother calls you again, don’t answer.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s confused.”
“She sounds pretty clear to me.”
“She doesn’t understand what she’s doing.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she’s making decisions that could destroy this family.”
Megan laughed.
“You destroyed the family years ago.”
Then David said:
“If she changes that trust, she’ll regret it.”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Detective Kim requested the file immediately.
Evan found another recording.
March 3.
The day before Margaret died.
Megan’s voice:
“David, leave me alone.”
David:
“I need Evan this weekend.”
“No.”
“My mother wants to see him.”
“Then she can call me.”
“She’s sick.”
“What happened?”
“She took too many pills again.”
There was silence.
Megan:
“Again?”
David:
“She gets confused.”
Megan:
“She told me last week she stopped taking the sleeping medication.”
David:
“Well, she started again.”
The call ended.
Lisa looked at me.
The grandmother supposedly died from an accidental overdose the next day.
But according to Megan, Margaret had stopped taking the medication.
Claire whispered, “He knew.”
I said nothing.
We didn’t know what he knew.
But police now had more questions.
At 10:43 a.m., Detective Kim called again.
They found Megan.
Alive.
Claire nearly collapsed with relief.
“Where?”
“In a maintenance building near the park.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Minor injuries.”
“What happened?”
“She says David forced her into the building and took her phone.”
Evan cried.
“Can I talk to her?”
“Soon.”
“Did you find Dad?”
“No.”
Then Kim added, “But Megan gave us information that may help.”
“What?”
“David told her he was leaving the state.”
“How?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Where?”
“She thinks Kentucky.”
I looked at Lisa.
Her sister lived in Kentucky.
So did several relatives who had attended Claire’s graduation dinner.
Claire’s face changed.
“Aunt Julie.”
Lisa was already calling.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
My chest tightened.
Claire said, “She’s probably at church.”
Lisa tried her husband.
Nothing.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Silence.
“Hello?”
A man breathed.
I knew the sound before he spoke.
David.
“You should’ve stayed out of this.”
My blood went cold.
“Where are you?”
He laughed softly.
“Claire there?”
I looked at her.
She stared at me.
“No.”
Another laugh.
“You’ve always been a bad liar.”
I walked away from the speakerphone.
“What do you want?”
“What I wanted from the beginning.”
“The money?”
“My life.”
“You destroyed your own life.”
“Easy for you to say.”
His voice shook.
“You got everything.”
“I didn’t take anything from you.”
“You took Lisa.”
“No.”
“You took Claire.”
“No.”
“You took my family.”
“You left them.”
He went silent.
Then he whispered, “Not this time.”
The line disconnected.
Claire looked terrified.
“What did he mean?”
I didn’t know.
Then Lisa’s phone rang.
Her sister.
She answered immediately.
“Julie?”
We all listened.
Lisa’s face changed.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“When?”
Her free hand began shaking.
“Call the police right now.”
She hung up.
“What happened?”
Lisa stared at Claire.
“David was there.”
Claire went pale.
“At Aunt Julie’s?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Why?”
“He asked where Claire was.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did she tell him?”
Lisa closed her eyes.
“She told him we were home.”
Claire looked at the front door.
Then her phone buzzed.
A text.
May you like
From David.
I’m coming to get my daughter.
