Lorraine stalled until the judge said, “Let’s move this along, Counselor.”
Reno said, “Ms. Stanley, could you walk me through your conversation with your daughter on November 17th?”
Lorraine frowned. “I don’t remember that specific day . . .”
He supplied, “That was the day Madison told you she wanted to go live with her family in Bozeman. How did you respond? Did you tell her she could go?”
“We had a fight. I told her she wasn’t allowed to go.”
“What happened November 29th through December 2nd, ma’am?”
Lorraine didn’t answer.
Reno looked at the judge, “Ms. Stanley doesn’t seem to recall that Madison left Sarasota, Florida by bus on November 29th and arrived in Bozeman, Montana on December 2nd. The trip took three-and-a-half days, including four bus transfers and an overnight layover in a bus station in Jackson, Mississippi by herself. She was thirteen years old.”
The judge’s eyebrows drew together in a frown at that.
He turned back to Lorraine. “How many times did you text or call your daughter during that four-day period, Ms. Stanley?”
“I—” A long pause from Lorraine. “I don’t recall.”
Hank hadn’t allowed himself to picture what that bus ride had been like for his thirteen-year-old daughter. Not since Lorraine’s parents called him from Bozeman to let him know Madi had just shown up on their porch unannounced, asking if they knew where her father was and if they could help her get to him.
How bad had the situation with Lorraine gotten for his responsible, mature daughter to do something as drastic as run away? How scared must she have been on that long trip alone?
Guilt seared through him. He should’ve been keeping a closer eye on his ex-wife. Seen her slipping back into her old ways and found a way to get Madi from her. He shouldn’t have been traveling the rodeo circuit, licking his own wounds. He should’ve been looking out for Madison. Protecting her from wounds of her own.
He had to force himself not to look across the courtroom at Lorraine or else he might just give her a piece of his mind right here, right now, for driving their daughter to such desperate measures.
Reno was speaking again, and Hank tuned back in to the proceedings. “Let me help you recall, ma’am. The phone records show no contact between you and your daughter from November 29th through December 2nd. In fact, your first text or phone call to your daughter after she ran away wasn’t until February 20th.”
The judge’s eyebrows sailed up at that revelation.
Reno continued, “The only conversation you had regarding Madison at all was on December 2nd, when her grandparents, your parents, called to inform you that Madison was with them and unharmed. Did you speak to Madison during that call?”
“I—” She opened her mouth angrily, snapped it shut, and said merely, “No.”
“Did you ask to speak with her? Offer to speak with her? Give your parents any message for her?”
Lorraine took a deep breath as if she was winding up to give a lengthy answer, but Reno forestalled her, saying gently, “I would remind you you’re under oath, and your daughter will testify today, if necessary. Oh—” He snapped his fingers as if he’d almost forgotten to mention something but recalled it at the last second. “—and Madison’s grandparents are sitting outside this courtroom in case I need to call them to testify.”
Lorraine deflated all at once and scowled at Reno, who said a bit less pleasantly, “I asked you if you spoke with your daughter, tried to speak with her, or passed along any message for her, Ms. Stanley.”
“No.” Lorraine’s tone bordered on surly.
Reno nodded, and said briskly, “On February 20th, you finally sent Madison a text message.” He read it aloud. “Baby, come home.”
“I was missing her?—”
“You were missing her on February 20th, but not enough to call or text her any other day between November 29th and February 19th?”
“I was giving her space. Sometimes mothers and daughters need space.”
“Eighty-four days’ worth of space? She was thirteen. You ignored her . . . or gave her the silent treatment . . . for almost three months!”
“I was angry, okay? She took off and made me look like a—” Lorraine broke off.
“Like a what?” Reno asked kindly. “A bad mother? Why did you text her on February 20th, Ms. Stanley?”
