7:48 A.M.
Michael took a couple of steps back.
He felt as though he’d been shoved, that a giant hand had landed against his chest and pushed.
“You’re full of it,” he said. “That’s bullshit.”
Detective Griffin bent at the waist, moving her head so close to the man on the ground that she spoke directly into his ear. But she didn’t whisper. Her voice cut through the still air like a revving engine.
“What are you saying?” she asked. “Why did you both want to take Felicity?”
“I didn’t want to take her,” he said. “I just needed something from her. And so did Lynn.”
“What did you need from a nine-year-old?” Griffin asked.
Before the man answered, Angela spoke up beside Michael.
“The paternity test,” she said.
Both the detective and Michael turned their heads toward Angela.
She was nodding, a look of certainty on her face.
“You wanted a paternity test,” Angela said. “To prove who her father is. You just needed spit or something, a cheek swab.”
The man on the ground almost smiled as he looked up at Angela. “Very good,” he said. “I didn’t want to hurt Felicity. I wanted to prove I was her father.” He turned his head toward Michael again. “And your sister wanted to prove you were her father. But Erica kept ducking us. She’d agree, and then she’d change her mind. She was giving us the runaround.”
“So, get a court order,” Griffin said. “Get a lawyer.”
“We were going to. But his name is on the birth certificate, and that makes it tough for anyone else to make the claim. The courts don’t just easily let any random person off the street come in and ask for a paternity test. You have to have a compelling reason. You have to build a case, and that takes time and money.”
“So?” Griffin said. “Take the time.”
“Erica threatened to leave town, to take Felicity away and never come back. And to not tell us where she’d go. When we heard from the music teacher that she’d stopped showing up for her lessons and blew Lynn off, we panicked. We thought she might have left. But Tolliver kind of knew Erica’s routine. He knew where she walked the dog in the morning, so he told Lynn.”
“He’d called Lynn because he was worried about Felicity,” Griffin said.
“Yes. I don’t think he knew he was causing any trouble for Erica. He just thought Lynn wanted to check on her. He thought Lynn would be a good influence on Felicity’s life with the love of music and all.”
“That’s why Tolliver didn’t tell us that little detail about sharing Erica’s routine,” Griffin said. “He didn’t want to be blamed. Or charged with anything. I guess that gave him even more reason to run away a couple of times. He thought he might be in too deep.”
“No shit,” Jake said.
“So Lynn went to the park to get the sample?” Griffin asked.
“Erica told me if I came around Felicity or her, she’d call the police. Like I said, she blamed me for the child protective services call, even though it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t think she’d really call the cops, but why risk it? So we thought Lynn would have a better chance. She’d met Felicity a few times, and Felicity liked Lynn. She thought she was her cool aunt, the rock star. What kid wouldn’t think that?”
“So she kidnapped her?” Griffin asked.
“No. I don’t know what she did. She wasn’t supposed to do anything crazy. She was just supposed to get the swab and leave if she could get Felicity alone. If she couldn’t in the park, she might try another way. Maybe go over when the babysitter was there. But when she got the sample, she could compare them to herself or to me to see who the winner was. I don’t know what the hell went wrong yesterday. If I knew where Felicity and Lynn were, I wouldn’t be looking for them all over town. I wouldn’t be eating dirt right now.”
Michael closed his eyes for a moment. He felt Angela’s hand on his arm, offering support. The sunlight turned his eyelids red.
“I know about your dead sister,” Jake said. “The one who fell off the swing. I know all about it and how it fucked you and Lynn up. Erica told me everything when we were dating.”
“Shut up,” Michael said, but his voice was faint.
“I told Lynn about the CPS call. I was trying to let her know how urgent things were. Maybe that got her worked up even more. Maybe I said too much, but I wanted to know once and for all whether I was the father.”
“Stop talking,” Michael said.
Lynn took Felicity. . . .
Lynn had Felicity. . . .
But the wrecked car, the blood, the unanswered calls . . .
Where was she?
He opened his eyes again. Griffin was on the phone, calling for more backup, reporting what she’d learned, the man again squirming on the ground.
The sun caught something in the grass, the light reflecting off silver.
Michael stared at the keys, then looked up to the end of the driveway where Jake Little’s Impala sat, the sun shining off the glass and chrome.
Michael pulled free of Angela’s grip. Without breaking stride, he snatched the keys from the grass and started for the car.
“Mr. Frazier, wait—”
“Michael—”
“If you know something—”
He ignored them. He unlocked the car and jumped in, driving off, the tires throwing up a spray of gravel.