Chapter 3 - Seven Lies for a Judge
Rachel did not sleep.
At 5:42 the next morning, Owen entered the kitchen and found her sitting beneath the pendant lights with Lily’s tablet in front of her.
He stopped.
“You’re up early.”
Rachel turned the screen toward him.
He read the device information.
Nothing changed in his expression for several seconds.
Then he said, “That proves nothing.”
“It was created on your laptop.”
“Lily uses my laptop.”
“She’s seven.”
“To watch videos.”
“To write a list about why she should live with you?”
Owen opened the refrigerator.
Rachel watched his hand tremble slightly as he took out orange juice.
“You’re deciding what happened before you have facts.”
“I have facts.”
“You have metadata.”
“Which is a fact.”
He shut the refrigerator harder than necessary.
“Margaret could have used my laptop.”
“At our house?”
“She has been there dozens of times.”
Rachel stood.
“Without you knowing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Without me knowing?”
Owen rubbed his forehead.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want police involved before we understood the situation.”
Rachel stared at him.
“You didn’t want police involved because you were afraid they might understand it.”
His face hardened.
“Be careful.”
“No. You be careful.”
Lily appeared in the doorway wearing pink pajamas.
Both adults stopped.
She looked from one parent to the other.
“Are you fighting because of me?”
Rachel immediately crossed to her.
“No.”
Owen said, “Of course not.”
Lily looked unconvinced.
Rachel knelt.
“You did nothing wrong.”
Lily whispered, “Grandma said everyone would be mad if I told.”
Owen closed his eyes.
Rachel asked gently, “What else did Grandma make you do?”
Owen opened his mouth.
Rachel held up one hand.
“Don’t.”
Lily twisted her fingers.
“She made me practice the sentences.”
“The ones in the note?”
Lily nodded.
“Did anyone else hear you practice?”
Another hesitation.
Rachel’s heartbeat climbed.
“Daddy was there one time.”
Owen stared at his daughter.
“Lily.”
Rachel turned sharply.
“Don’t correct her.”
“I’m not correcting her.”
Lily looked frightened.
Owen softened his tone.
“Honey, are you sure I was in the room?”
“You were downstairs.”
Rachel looked at him.
Lily continued.
“Grandma told you I was being stubborn.”
Owen’s face changed.
Memory.
Recognition.
He sat at the island.
“I remember that.”
Rachel waited.
“I thought Margaret was helping Lily rehearse for some school thing.”
Rachel almost laughed.
“Those sentences?”
“I didn’t hear the sentences.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
Lily said, “Grandma told you I wouldn’t say it right.”
Owen looked at her.
“What did I say?”
Lily’s eyes dropped.
“You said, ‘Then we have a problem.’”
Silence consumed the kitchen.
Owen looked at Rachel.
“That was not about this.”
“What was it about?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remembered being there ten seconds ago.”
Before he answered, the doorbell rang.
A woman stood outside with an identification badge and a gray folder.
“Rachel Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Denise Harper. Bedford County Child Protective Services.”
Rachel’s stomach clenched.
Denise’s expression was professional but not hostile.
“We received two reports concerning Lily.”
“Two?”
“One relating to the incident with her grandmother.”
Rachel nodded.
“And the second?”
Denise looked at Owen.
Then at Rachel.
“The second report alleges ongoing neglect and emotional instability in this household.”
Rachel slowly turned toward her husband.
Owen looked genuinely surprised.
Or very good at pretending.
“Who filed it?” Rachel asked.
“I can’t disclose the reporter.”
Rachel almost smiled.
She knew.
Margaret had moved first.
Denise interviewed Rachel, Owen and Lily separately.
Rachel hated letting Lily go into another room, but Celia had warned her not to coach, hover or interfere.
Ninety minutes later, Denise emerged with Lily.
She looked more serious than before.
“I need to tell both of you something. Lily has been remarkably consistent.”
Margaret’s accusations, Denise explained, were not substantiated by Lily’s account.
Lily denied that Rachel regularly drank, screamed at invisible people, forgot her or took mysterious pills.
But Denise also had to document Rachel’s admission that she had struck Margaret twice.
“That was wrong,” Rachel said.
Owen looked at her.
Denise wrote something.
Rachel wanted to add that Margaret deserved it.
She didn’t.
After Denise left, Owen received a call.
He walked into the study.
Rachel followed quietly enough to hear his first sentence.
“No, she found the note.”
Silence.
Rachel stopped in the hallway.
Owen lowered his voice.
“I said she found it.”
Rachel pushed open the door.
Owen spun around.
“Who are you talking to?”
He disconnected.
“My attorney.”
“You have an attorney?”
“After last night? Yes.”
Rachel stared at him.
“What did you mean, she found the note?”
“I was explaining what you found.”
“Who is your attorney?”
“Dean Holloway.”
Rachel knew the name.
Dean represented Margaret personally.
Not Vale Development.
Margaret.
Her pulse accelerated.
“You hired my mother’s lawyer?”
“He called me this morning.”
Rachel looked at his phone.
“Show me the call log.”
Owen laughed in disbelief.
“No.”
“Show me.”
“You don’t get to interrogate me.”
Rachel stepped closer.
“My daughter was slapped and locked in a wardrobe after being coached to lie about me. The coaching document came from your computer. My mother named you on the recording. And now you’re secretly talking to her attorney.”
His face cooled.
“Our daughter.”
“What?”
“You keep saying ‘my daughter.’ She’s our daughter.”
Rachel saw something then that terrified her more than anger would have.
Possession.
Calculation.
Owen put his phone into his pocket.
“You should start thinking very carefully about what happens next, Rachel.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Maybe because your mother and I agree about one thing.”
Rachel felt her throat tighten.
“What?”
Owen looked toward the doorway where Lily had stood only minutes earlier.
May you like
Then back at Rachel.
“You are not the only parent who gets to decide what is safe for her.”
