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Again, she stiffens next to me, but I tuck her closer to my side. We both stare down Greg Everett as he slowly approaches, his expression fading from strict determination to surprise and fear.
I feel a thrill shoot through my spine.
Greg Everett is afraid of me.
Perfect.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, now eyeing the rest of our ensemble.
“We’re here to return a kidnapped child to her mother,” Bambi curtly replies. “Immediately.”
The receptionist raises a brow, but wisely ducks off to the side to let Greg handle this on his own.
“Kidnapped?” He chuckles nervously. “Hardly. You know as well as I that Martin has the right to his daughter?—”
“Oh, he absolutely does not.” If Bambi’s smile could inflict physical damage, Greg Everett would be dead. She calmly pulls an envelope from her folder and hands it to him, not once breaking eye contact. “As you can see here, not only has Detective Patterson exercised gross misuse of police resources and abuse of power, he has officially kidnapped a child by basing his warrant on false charges.”
Greg waves away the accusations with the envelope. “Ridiculous! Judge Cartwell?—”
“—is about to be apprehended for solicitation, assault, bribery, and a slew of other serious misdemeanors. Including signing off on warrants he knew were illegitimate.” Bambi flashes her teeth with her smile. I swear, the woman could sprout literal fangs and it wouldn’t surprise me. “I called it in myself. The evidence is going to keep your CSI division busy for quite some time.”
The older detective looks like he’s going to throw up.
Perfect.
Bambi doesn’t give him an ounce of mercy. “I’m sure you had no knowledge of anything related to Cartwell’s misconduct. As a detective, you’re legally bound to report such matters toyour superiors. So rest assured, I let the DA’s office know that there’s no way you were complicit, despite the interestingly high number of cases you testified in Cartwell’s courtroom.”
Translation: it’s probably the first thing she told the district attorney to look into.
“Furthermore,” she adds as she pulls out a second envelope and hands it to him, “Martin Patterson has no legal, paternal claim over Willow Everett. He never married Ms. Clara Everett prior to the birth, nor after, and he did not sign the birth certificate.”
Now, Greg’s good-natured chuckle sounds more like a frantic wheeze. “This is definitely a mistake?—”
“See for yourself. Intentional or not, Detective Patterson was negligent in seeing to his paternal rights and duties.” Bambi softens her vicious smile into something far more patronizing and tilts her head to one side. “He couldn’t sign a piece of paper, Detective Everett. What makes you think he’s fit to be a parent?”
I wish I could take a picture of Clara’s face right now. It’s fucking priceless.
Greg tries to diffuse the situation by appealing to his daughter. “Clara, sweetheart…”
She slowly shakes her head. “No, Dad. I’m not backing down on this. And you should be backingmeup, not Martin. I don’t care if he’s your partner or your protege. I’m yourdaughter. You should have called me the second you saw him bring Willow in.”
“I—”
“Mommy!”
All heads turn to the sound of that sweet little voice calling from across the lobby. Willow’s sitting in a desk chair, undoubtedly Martin’s, and she lights up the moment she sees us.
When she sees me, she gasps and jumps to her feet. “Demmy!”
Her little feet fly across the tiled floor. I’m quick to meet her halfway. I scoop her up into a giant bear hug that makes her squeal and giggle with glee. When she hugs me tight, I’m struck with the sudden, intense realization that I’m not letting this kid go.
Ever.
Except to let her go hug her mother, which is what she should really be doing right now. So I slide her down to her feet and nudge her toward Clara, who chokes out a happy sob and sweeps Willow into her arms.
“Oh, my sweet baby! I was so worried about you!”
I turn to give them a little privacy…
