Chapter 4: The Man With a Lawyer
His name was Victor Hale.
Agent Reeves came back inside twelve minutes later and told us that much.
She set her phone face-down on the table, which I had already learned meant the news was not good.
"His attorney filed an emergency motion two hours ago," she said.
"He's claiming Lily was taken from him illegally.
He's arguing that the operation violated his property rights."
I stared at her.
"His property rights."
"He's framing the child as — " Reeves paused.
"He has documentation.
Falsified, we believe, but documentation.
A birth certificate listing him as the sole legal guardian.
Patrice's name is not on it."
"How is that possible?"
"He filed it while Patrice was still in the house.
She didn't know." Reeves sat back down.
"His lawyer is good.
This is not going to be resolved tonight."
Dana had gone very still beside me.
"So what happens to Lily?" I asked.
"For now, she stays here.
We have emergency protective custody in place.
But his attorney will challenge that in the morning." Reeves looked at Dana.
"I need you to be prepared for a hearing.
Possibly as early as day after tomorrow."
"I'll be there," Dana said.
"There's something else." Reeves folded her hands on the table.
"Victor Hale is not who he presented himself to be to Patrice.
We've been building a case on him for fourteen months.
This isn't the first time."
The kitchen felt smaller suddenly.
"How many?" Dana asked.
"We know of two others.
We believe there are more." Reeves kept her voice even.
"He finds women in vulnerable situations.
He isolates them.
When a child is born, he uses the child as leverage to keep them compliant.
When they stop being useful to him, he — " She stopped.
"He has a system."
I thought about Patrice naming her daughter Lily.
Wanting her to grow up somewhere clean.
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"In custody.
But his attorney is already arguing for bail.
He has ties to the community.
A business.
A house.
On paper, he looks like a respectable man."
"And off paper?"
Reeves didn't answer that.
She didn't need to.
Dana pushed her chair back and walked to the window.
She stood there with her arms crossed, looking out at the driveway where the police cars were still parked.
"He came to the alley on purpose," she said.
"He saw my car.
He knew I'd been watching."
"We believe so, yes."
"He wanted to scare me off."
"Yes."
Dana turned around.
"It didn't work."
Reeves almost smiled.
"No.
It didn't."
I looked at my daughter standing in my kitchen — dirty clothes, bruised wrist, ten days of sleeping in a car — and I felt something I hadn't felt in the last ten days of terror and silence and unanswered phones.
I felt proud.
Then Dana's expression changed.
"Reeves," she said.
"You said his attorney filed two hours ago."
"That's right."
"We only arrived here forty minutes ago."
Reeves was quiet.
"He knew where we were going," Dana said.
"He knew we were coming here."
The agent picked up her phone from the table.
"I need to make another call," she said.
She walked out the back door again.
Dana looked at me across the kitchen.
May you like
"Lock the front door, Mom," she said quietly.
"And don't open it unless I'm standing right next to you."
