Jeremy Marchant’s jaw hung open. “That can’t be right. She phoned us only last week.” “Last week. You waited a week till you came to see if Kit was in good hands?” Breck struggled to keep a lid on his temper. Anna Marchant looked anywhere but at Breck. “We were very busy, you understand,” she murmured. “We were lecturing in the South Island and we couldn’t get away.” “I think if you’d been that concerned about Kit you would have arranged for Child Protection to pick him up days ago.” Breck let his statement hang in the air. Ms. Ellis patently agreed with him. She nodded and crouched down beside Kit. “Show me your bedroom, Kit.” Oh shit. Kit didn’t have a separate bedroom. They were still both sleeping in the only bedroom the apartment had. “Daddy?” Kit inquired. He had been listening, bug-eyed, to the conversation. “Go ahead, son. Show the lady your books and stuff.” Kit took Ann Ellis’s hand and trotted off. Breck faced his parents. “You’ve stuffed up this time, Father. No doubt you planned to sue for custody of Kit. But in your anxiety for raw material on which to practice your educational theories, you rushed your fences.” Jeremy Marchant threw himself down on the sofa. “Mannerless as usual, I see. Sit down, Anna.” Anna Marchant looked from her son to her husband and remained standing. “I said sit down , Anna.” Jeremy Marchant’s voice held an edge. “Doesn’t change, does he?” Breck said to his mother. Anna Marchant tightened her lips. She sat down. Mr. Kelly paced to and fro between the living room and the kitchen, his cellphone glued to his ear. “What? Say again? Oh, hell.” He tucked his cellphone in his breast pocket. “Look, Marchant—” “Yes?” Breck and his father answered together. Jeremy Marchant threw Breck a glance of dislike. A glance of dislike from this man had once reduced Breck to an insecure, trembling mess, but it no longer impressed him. Years of policing had taught him how to cut through façades and get to the people inside. “I think Mr. Kelly is talking to me. What’s the problem, Kelly?” “Unfortunately, now that the order has been issued and served, it can’t be withdrawn without a further application to the court.” Breck looked out the window at the darkness outside. “We can’t do anything until tomorrow morning.” Kelly said. He looked sideways at Breck’s parents, and then turned back to Breck. “I’m sorry, Marchant. Your son will have to go with Ms. Ellis tonight and we’ll rescind the order as soon as possible tomorrow morning. I’ll draw up an ex parte document tonight. We should be able to get it before a judge by mid-morning.” “What? No, we will not be withdrawing the order!” Jeremy Marchant shouted. “We have no choice. The information given you was false and was proffered under questionable circumstances. The boy is well cared for. I am not prepared to say otherwise. I shall talk to Ms. Ellis.” Kelly stalked off to find Ann Ellis. Defeated, sick to the bone, Breck sank down on to a kitchen chair. How was he going to explain this to Kit? How could he tell Kit he’d have to go with a woman he didn’t know, to a place he didn’t know, where he’d be with people he didn’t know? And he might see his father again tomorrow. Or he might not. Breck choked down the lump in his throat, heaved himself to his feet and went to talk to Ms. Ellis. She had obviously been in circumstances like these many times. “Kit, you have to come with me. You’ll see Daddy again tomorrow. Don’t bother bringing anything with you. There are lots and lots of toys and books where we’re going. Just get him a change of clothes,” she advised Breck. “If he takes too much stuff, you may never see it again. I’m sure you understand what I mean.” Oh God. Poor little Kit. “Where are you taking him?” “It’s a foster home for short-term stayers and it’s not far away. Try not to worry, Mr. Marchant.” So she wouldn’t tell him where the place was. Kit was silent. He didn’t shed a single tear. Instead he clung like a limpet to Breck’s legs. Ann Ellis had to unpeel his fingers one by one. Breck looked down at Kit’s bowed head. There was the faintest of whispers. “Daddy?” Breck broke. He bent down and scooped up his son. “This boy has been through a lot, Ms. Ellis. This is the last thing he needs.” He was shaking. He couldn’t seem to stop. Kit buried his head in his father’s neck and Ms. Ellis had to do the unpeeling thing all over again. “I’m going to go quickly now. Give me your card,” she murmured. Breck dug his card out of his jacket pocket. She grabbed it, scooped up Kit and his knapsack and rushed out of the room as if they were being chased by a pack of jackals. Breck heard Kit scream “Dadd-ee!” and the door slammed. “Oh, God.” “Mr. Marchant.” Breck stared through swimming eyes at the lawyer. “What?” “I suggest you get a restraining order for both yourself and Kit to keep those two”—here the lawyer jerked his head towards the living-room—“out of your hair.” “Thanks. That’s good advice, even though you’re acting for them,” Breck murmured, trying to smile. “Yes, well…once I’ve got the withdrawal of application set up, I’ll call a meeting at our office and inform everyone that we no longer act for your parents. This is not the first time I’ve been sent on a wild goose chase by your father, but this is the most distasteful trick he’s pulled.” He sniffed. “I’ll give you my private cell number.” He scribbled on the back of his business card and handed it to Breck. “Sorry about this, Marchant. Call me anytime.” Breck nodded. There were some good guys around. Whoever would have thought they’d be in the legal profession? “I need to ask them about this phone call.” Kelly rolled his eyes. “How can they have missed the fact that their…what is it…ex-daughter-in-law…is missing?” “They’ve always tended not to see the wood for the trees,” Breck murmured. “Must have been fun being brought up by them.” “You can say that again.” His parents were sitting just as he’d left them, bolt upright bookends on his sofa. “We need to know everything you can remember about that phone call, Father,” Breck began. “Or what? You’ll arrest me?” Jeremy Marchant’s lips tried to spread in an unused smile, but his eyes were hard. “Hope it won’t come to that,” Breck said, treating it as a joke. “Anyway, I’d have to call up whoever’s on duty. Can’t arrest you myself. So…exactly when did Tania call you?” “On the 27 th ,” his mother answered. She glanced nervously at her husband. “It was last Tuesday, wasn’t it, Jer?” She had an iPhone in her hand and was flicking through the apps with a long, pointed nail. “Here it is. Yes, the 27 th .” “That was six days ago,” Kelly said softly. “You waited six days before you acted?” “We explained that.” Anna Marchant looked up from her phone and frowned at the solicitor. “You lied to me,” the solicitor said softly. “You told me it was the day before yesterday, the 2nd.” “We got confused. We’ve been so busy…” “Yet you were able to find the date on your iPhone easily enough just now.” “Never mind the claptrap,” Breck interjected. “Tell me what she said and how she said it.” “What d’you mean—how she said it?” Breck looked at his father the same way his father had looked at him many times. As if he was an idiot. “Was she speaking under duress? Did she hesitate? Was she parroting a message she’d memorized? Was she reading from a script? Were there background noises?” “My son, the cop,” Marchant sneered, looking at Kelly for affirmation of his opinion. “Just as well he is a cop, otherwise you’d have a lot of explaining to do to some other cops who would not be so patient. Listen to your son, Marchant.” “Whose side are you on, Kelly? You’re supposed to be working for us.” “That’s why I’m suggesting you listen to the man. Formulate your answers carefully because you’ll be asked similar questions by cops from the Missing Person’s Unit soon. Isn’t that right?” Kelly turned to Breck. Breck nodded. “So, any thoughts on that phone call?” “I took the phone call,” his mother said suddenly, “and I put it on speaker phone. When she began talking about Christopher, we wondered what was going on.” About Kit. Not about Breck. Well, what had he expected? “She said she was no longer living with Marty and that you had temporary custody but that you weren’t managing well. That you farmed him out wherever you could and he looked unkempt and upset.” “And of course you believed her.” “Of course we did, boy. We never had any problems with Tania. We liked her. She was licking you into shape nicely when you jumped ship. Typical.” His father gazed at Breck as if his son had disappointed him more than a father could bear. Actor. “Yes, well…I found out a few things about her that I couldn’t stomach. When I confronted her, she ran off with Marty Kerr. Apparently she’d been having an affair with him for six months.” Breck glanced sideways at Kelly, wondering what he thought of the Marchants’ dirty linen. “Whatever. Couldn’t see a livewire like Tania lasting long with someone like you, anyway.” Breck folded his lips together tightly to prevent himself from disclosing what Tania had done. What the hell had he ever done to his father? He’d thought he was over his parents long ago, but barbs like that last one still hurt. Kelly cleared his throat. “Back to the phone call. Any background noise?” “Don’t think so. Did you notice anything, Anna?” “No. She sounded like her usual self. Except, of course, she was worried about Kit.” Yeah. Sure . “She said Kit looked unkempt. So she had seen him.” Breck looked at Kelly. “You’d better cart them down to the North Shore Missing Persons Division to make a statement. Do you want me to come?” “Please. And make sure you’ve got that card Ms. Ellis gave you in case—” In case his parents tried to push on with their interim custody application. **** Two hours later, exhausted and hungry, he arrived home. He opened the fridge door and peered inside. Cold pasta left over from last night. Oh happy day. He shoved it into the microwave and prepared a mugful of coffee. Sick at heart, he slithered down the wall and sat on the kitchen floor. He clasped his knees and bowed his head, wondering where Kit was, how he was faring. Was he scared? Had anyone given him something to eat? His cell phone buzzed like a hornet. Cursing, he plunked his coffee on to the floor beside him and yanked the phone out of his pocket. “Yeah?” “Daddy?” said a soft little voice. Breck scrambled to his feet. “Kit! Are you okay?” “I’m okay, Daddy. There’re lots of toys here. Can I come home now?” Another voice interrupted. “Senior Sergeant Marchant?” So she’d looked him up. “Yes, Ms. Ellis. Is everything okay?” “Well, there was a small incident when Kit decided to head home to you. Fortunately we have cameras everywhere so we caught up with him at the gate. I thought if he spoke to you, he’d feel better.” “Thanks, Ms. Ellis. Can I speak to him again?” He reassured Kit as best he could. “I think you’ll be able to come home tomorrow, son.” “Promise?” “No, I can’t promise because it’s not up to me. But I’m fighting to get you home again, Kit. Gee, the apartment sure is quiet without you here. I can hear the clock ticking.” “I promise to be quiet as a mouse when I get home, Daddy.” Oh, God. He’d said the wrong thing. He’d made it sound as if Kit was being punished for being noisy. “Nah, you’re never noisy, Captain Kit. Except when we play tag. We’re both noisy then.” Kit gave a sort of snuffling laugh. “I have to go to bed now, Daddy. Bye.” And Breck was alone with the silence.
Chapter Fourteen
Ingrid knew she was asking for trouble. Less than twenty-four hours ago the man had showed her he mistrusted her, so why was she behaving like a pyromaniac who dreads the fire but is enthralled by it? Because she was fascinated with Breck Marchant, that’s why. He was a caring man who was doing his best to hold down a responsible job and bring up a kid alone. Sometimes his job must fill him with dread. He dealt with difficult, heart-rending situations every day. Some of that would surely affect him. Did he lie in bed at night going over and over what else he could have done to make things right? That was the way she read him. He’d be awake by now. She’d call him to try and explain that it wasn’t she who’d phoned his parents. He’d probably slam the phone down in her ear. The worst part was that she had considered it because he needed help. Then she’d asked herself the question: would you go to your parents for help, Ingrid? And she’d realized that she and Breck were alike.