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“I have spoken to him.”
“Officially?” Adam asked.
“No, I just told him that she was taking photos of Roman over the fence. He said he’d have a quiet word with her.”
Adam looked over at Yvonne. “Are you okay if we go down to Nate’s office right now?”
“Go ahead. It’s not busy.” Yvonne waved a hand at them. “You need to do something, Lizzie. This is not right.”
* * *
The last person Lizzie wanted to be walking beside right now was Adam Miller. She’d rather be at home, curled up in bed eating ice cream and having a good cry. But, as a working mother, and an adult, that option was apparently no longer available to her.
“Coretta said that she had to protect the boy,” Adam said. “I asked her why, and she said she had the right.”
Lizzie concentrated on crossing the street. “She’s Roman’s great-great-aunt.”
Adam stopped walking and looked down at her. She could see the wheels turning in his head. “Ray Smith is Roman’s father?”
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. She’d have to tell Nate anyway. “He used to come and stay with Coretta for the summer.”
“I remember. He was a really good baseball player.”
“He went to college on a scholarship and played professionally for a while before he got injured,” Lizzie said as they started walking again. “He’s a sports journalist and media commentator now.”
He glanced down at her. “How come I’ve never seen him with you and Roman?”
“Because he bolted when I told him I was pregnant.”
“What an asshole.”
“Correct.” Lizzie pushed open the door into the sheriff’s office and appreciated the coolness of the air-conditioning. There were two desks, an office behind them, and two small holding cells.
Betty, the woman who managed the office, looked up with a smile. “How can I help you, folks?”
“Is Nate in?”
“Yes, he is. Would you like to speak to him?” She pushed back her chair, went through to the back, and hollered at the sheriff so loudly she might as well have stayed at her desk.
Nate came out wincing, a finger in his ear, and beckoned Lizzie and Adam to come through.
He took his seat behind his desk and looked expectantly up at them. “What’s going on?”
Lizzie let Adam explain about Coretta photographing his license plate and her threats to call social services on Lizzie. He also suggested that Coretta thought they were seeing each other, which might have been hysterically funny if she wasn’t stressing out.
“And she’s also been taking pictures of Roman?” Nate was writing notes. “I have to ask this, but is there any reason why she should be worried about the child’s safety?”
“Of course there isn’t,” Lizzie said. “You know Gabby’s a fantastic day care provider. Coretta just hates me because her great-nephew has somehow convinced his family that I’m the bad guy.”
“In what way?” Nate looked up, pen poised over the paper.
“Ray Smith is Roman’s father,” Lizzie reluctantly explained. “He’s never seen his own child or paid me a dime in child support. Coretta’s his great-great-aunt.”
Beside her, Adam frowned and shifted in his seat.
“So, Coretta has some family connection to your son,” Nate said.
“Yes. I’ve offered her the opportunity to meet Roman properly, but she refuses to do that.” Lizzie pushed her wayward hair away from her face. “I’m worried that she’s sending all this ‘evidence’ to Ray’s family to make me look bad.”
“Sure sounds like it,” Adam murmured beside her. “But seeing as they had no interest in supporting the kid, what will it matter?”
“I don’t know,” Lizzie said despairingly. “I just want her to stop.”
“I’ll go talk to her in an official capacity and give her a warning,” Nate said. “You could try and get a restraining order against her, but it’s going to be hard to enforce when she lives next door to your day care provider.” He paused. “Is there any chance you could find someone else to mind Roman?”
