"I was trying to help," I said finally.
"Sure you were." Maddox's tone made it clear what he thought of my methods. "The question is, were you trying to help her, or were you trying to fix a problem to make yourself feel better?"
The question hit too close to home. I hadn’t been able to help my gran. I'd been asking myself the same thing for three days, ever since I'd dropped Lottie off at that crumbling apartment building.
"Both, maybe," I admitted.
Maddox nodded, satisfied with my honesty. "So now you're running to Dubai because a girl you barely know made you feel something you weren't prepared for. Are you sure you’re not a Daddy?"
"It's not that simple." I’d spent years honing my craft in that dungeon. I knew what my needs were. Except, if I was going to be honest with myself, I hadn't been interested in a scene with anyone since the first time I'd laid eyes on her in that cute pink dress.
"It never is." He stood up, stretching his long frame. "Look, instead of running halfway around the world, why don't you just go see her? Check if she's okay."
"She made it clear she doesn't want my help," I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.
Maddox shook his head. "You didn't offer help, Walker. You offered a solution to a problem you'd diagnosed without consulting the patient. There's a difference. You know better than anyone that the types of relationship we offer can’t start without trust and consent. She shot you down because she doesn’t trust you. Hell, she doesn’t know you from Adam, and based on her history I’m not exactly surprised."
I rubbed the back of my neck, frustration building under my skin. "What would you suggest, then?"
"Start by seeing if she's alright. Ask what she needs instead of telling her what she should want." He moved toward the door, then paused. "And maybe consider why you care so much about this particular girl when you've spent half your life keeping everyone at arm's length."
After he left, I sat in the silence of my office, his words echoing in my head. Why did I care so much? I'd seen plenty of vulnerable people in my line of work. I'd helped some, failed others, but I'd never brought any of them home before. Never felt this gnawing worry that followed me through sleepless nights.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my keys and headed for the parking garage.
My phone vibrated and I answered. Eric. "Are you interested in more on the girl? There's something seriously off with this girl's background."
I gripped the phone tighter as I slid into my car. Eric had already given us the basics, but I'd told him that was enough when she'd been clear my help wasn't welcome. "Tell me."
"Parents died when she was five, as you know. Car accident, but..." Eric hesitated. "Walker, the police report has inconsistencies. A junior officer raised doubts, but it was dropped.”
My jaw clenched.
"Can't prove anything but the whole thing seems dirty, because there was never any real attempt to locate the other car. It had false plates, but the same ones had been used in two previous low-level smash and grabs. Two potential lines of inquiry just left hanging for a double homicide. Charlotte Mallory became the ward of her father's brother, Stephen Mallory, no other relatives.
“He moved into Lottie's house, gained control of all assets through guardianship, including her parents’ business interests. Mainly three apartments that all had tenants with long-term lease agreements, and because of their business and accident insurance are mortgage free."
"And now?"
"He still has full control of her parents' estate, which wasn't massive but included a paid-off house in Oakwood Hills, two cars, and the rental properties worth about three quarters of a million. The only thing she took was seven hundred dollars, which covered the deposit on the apartment she rented two months later."
"She's working minimum wage on Nebraska Avenue," I said flatly. "Living in a shithole apartment."
"Exactly."
Heat crawled up my neck. "This uncle. Where is he now?"
"Still living in her parents' house. Drives a new Mercedes. Dabbles in a few investments but not profitably. It’s Lottie’s parents’ businesses that are keeping him afloat and he can’t sell them because of her." He paused. “I know you said to leave it, but—"
"No, this is good," I croaked out.
"I need time to go into her parents’ will a little more. I have a contact that can translate the legalese a bit better.”
I closed my eyes, fighting to control my breathing. "And Lottie?"
"No criminal record. High school diploma but she was homeschooled, started community college but dropped out after one semester. No credit cards, no loans, barely any digital footprint at all. It's like she's been..." Eric trailed off.
"Isolated," I finished for him.Controlled.My grip tightened on the mug until I heard the ceramic creak. "Send me everything."
