We adopted a teenage brother and his little sister after every other family had turned them down — a month later, their former foster mother called me and asked, "They still haven't told you why they chose you?"

Foss didn't come after Daniel or me.

He went after Donna.

Donna, the foster mother.

The woman who had called me six weeks ago to ask if the kids had told me why they chose us.

The woman who had said yes without hesitation when I asked if she'd speak to investigators.

She called me on a Tuesday morning, and I could hear in her voice that something had shaken her.

"A man came to my door yesterday," she said.

"He said he was doing a routine review of my foster care license.

He had a clipboard.

He looked official." She paused.

"He asked a lot of questions about Jace.

About incidents.

About whether I'd ever had concerns about his behavior.

He kept asking me to confirm specific things — things that weren't true — and when I said they weren't true, he'd rephrase and ask again."

"Did he show you identification?"

"He did.

But afterward I called the licensing office and they said no one had been assigned to review my license.

No visit was scheduled."

I called Patricia before I'd even hung up with Donna.

"He sent someone to pressure a witness," I said.

"That's obstruction," Patricia said.

"Do you have a description of the man?"

Donna had a description.

She also, it turned out, had something better — a doorbell camera that had captured the man's face and his car's license plate clearly.

Patricia had the plate traced by end of day.

The car was registered to a private investigations firm that had done work for Foss's development company on at least two prior occasions.

"He just handed us everything," Patricia said.

She didn't sound surprised.

She sounded like someone watching a predictable sequence complete itself.

"Intimidating a foster care witness, sending an impersonator to conduct a false official review — this is no longer just about what happened to Renata.

This is active obstruction of an ongoing investigation."

The DA's office issued a formal request for Foss to appear for questioning three days later.

He arrived with two attorneys.

I wasn't in that room.

But Patricia was, and she called me afterward.

"He denied everything," she said.

"Smoothly.

Confidently.

The way men like him always do in the first meeting." She paused.

"But they showed him the doorbell footage.

And they showed him Roy's document.

And they showed him the toxicology report with the archived sign-off." Another pause.

"His lead attorney asked for a recess after the third document."

"What happened in the recess?"

"I don't know exactly.

But when they came back, the lead attorney said his client was prepared to cooperate with the investigation in exchange for a discussion about terms."

I sat with that for a moment.

"Patricia," I said.

"Does Jace get to know what's in those documents?

About his mother?"

A pause.

"That's your call.

And his.

But yes — eventually, he should know.

He deserves to know."

I looked out the window at the backyard, where Josie was on the swing set Daniel had put up two weekends ago, her legs pumping hard, trying to get high enough to see over the fence.

Jace was standing at the edge of the grass, watching her.

Making sure she didn't fall.

Still.

Even now.

Even here.

"Tell me when there's something definitive," I said.

"Something I can actually give him."