“Are you telling me the State wishes to drop all charges against Ms. Watson?” the judged intoned, looking over his half-glasses at the prosecution table.

 

“Yes, your Honor,” the prosecution attorney said. “Further, we would like to have Ms. Watson’s arrest record expunged.”

 

“Care to inform me why you are wasting the court’s time, then?”

 

“Yes, your Honor. Several credible witnesses have come forward who place Ms. Watson elsewhere during the time of the crime.”

 

The judged looked at the prosecution, clearly annoyed about something. “Perhaps the next time the District Attorney’s office might investigate before bringing charges.”

 

“Yes, your Honor,” the woman said, unable to meet the judge’s eyes.

 

“I expect the paperwork for the expungement to be ready for my signature and on my desk by lunch tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, your honor.”

 

The judge then turned his attention to Daisy. “Ms. Watson, you’re free to go.”

 

“Thank you, your honor,” Daisy said respectfully, but inside she was leaping for joy. Once outside the courtroom, she hugged her attorney. “Thank you.” “They should have never pressed charges in the first place,” the woman said.

 

“We should sue the Eugene police for false arrest,” Rich Tyrell growled.

 

“Daddy, I just want to go home,” Daisy said, desperate to put the whole thing behind her. Her attorney had gotten her arrest expunged by threatening a false arrest suit, and that was enough for her. “Thank you, again,” she said shaking the lawyer’s hand.

 

She didn’t have much, and she now she had even less. Her parents had posted her bond when she was arrested, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to pay her lawyer fees and court costs. She smiled as she stepped out of the courthouse, free of her ordeal at last. It was perfect spring day, the sun was shining, and she would worry about paying her lawyer tomorrow.

 

Now that she was sure she wasn’t going to do three to five for robbery, she could start to get on with her life, start over, and maybe build something for herself and Riley.

 

As they began the three-hour drive home to Prineville, she and her dad spoke little. She knew he was disappointed in her. She was disappointed in herself. Twenty-six, dead broke with a kid, and going through a nasty divorce, she was going to have it rough for a while. But she’d beaten the robbery charge, and she would beat this, too.

 

Rich’s phone began to ring and she picked it up. “Mom?” She’d just spoken to her mom twenty minutes before, telling her the good news as they were pulling out the courthouse parking lot.

 

“They took him!” she sobbed. “I tried to stop them, but they took him!”

 

“Mom? Mom, what’s wrong?” she cried as her mother continued sob. “What are you talking about? Who took who?”

 

“The men! They broke in and took Riley!”

 

Daisy felt faint and unable to breathe. “Who did? Mom! Who took Riley?”

 

“I don’t know! Three men took him! I couldn’t stop them!”

 

“Did you call the police?” Daisy asked, her voice quiet but the tremor telegraphing her distress.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Hang on, Mom! We’re coming!” She looked at her dad and whimpered. “Someone took Riley.”

 

Rich glared at Daisy a moment, then matted the throttle, the Silverado downshifting then growling as the speedometer crept past one hundred and kept climbing.

 

***

 

Daisy and her father had broken every speed limit on the rest of the drive from Eugene, arriving at her parent’s house barely two hours after Daisy hung up the phone. There were still two Prineville police cruisers sitting in the drive as they ran across the yard and burst into the house.

 

Elizabeth Tyrell, Lizzie to her friends, began to sob again as her daughter and husband entered, rising to hug first Daisy then falling into Rich’s arms. Her mouth was swelling, her left eye turning dark, and she had a butterfly bandage on her left cheekbone.

 

“I couldn’t stop them,” she wailed. “I tried, but I couldn’t stop them!”

 

The officer allowed the family a moment, before interrupting. “Are you the child’s mother?” he asked.

 

Daisy stepped away from her mother and father, sniffing and trying to dry her tears. “Yes.”

 

“Any idea who may have done this?” the officer asked.

 

“Leo Watson. Leonard is his real name. Leonard Watson.”

 

“He’s the boy’s father?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Your mother said you two are separated?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Any reason why he’d want to kidnap Riley?”

 

“Because he’s a fucking asshole!” she spat, then gathered herself. “Because he didn’t get what he wanted.”

 

“What’s that, Ms. Watson?”

 

“Me in jail.”

 

The officer frowned. “Care to explain?”

 

“I have petitioned the court for sole custody of Riley. He set me up to go to jail, but it didn’t work. He knows I’ll likely win custody, so when the prosecution dropped the case, I guess he decided to try something a little more direct.”

 

“You have any proof of this?”

 

“Of course not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. It’s funny how I’m suddenly arrested right after I slap him with a restraining order, and how Riley is taken right after my case is dismissed.”

 

The cop scribbled on his notepad. “Any idea where we can find Leonard Watson? Does he live here in Prineville?”

 

“Eugene. Try the Firechrome Motorcycle Club clubhouse, on…” she paused as she tried to remember the address. “I can’t remember the address, but I bet the Eugene police department can tell you.”

 

“Your mother gave us a picture of Riley. Do you have a picture of Leo?”

 

“Maybe. I just moved back home. I’ll have to dig through my stuff to see.”

 

“If you have one, that will be helpful.”

 

“I’ll look.”

 

“If you have one, bring it to the station and ask for Detective Choral,” he said as he handed her one of his cards. “Anything else you can tell us?”

 

“No. Will you be able to find Riley? He’s only five.”

 

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll do everything possible and alert the Eugene police. I’m sure they’ll send someone to check out the Firechrome clubhouse. Is there any reason to suspect Leo will harm the child?”

 

“Leo’s not the best father in the world. That’s why I want custody.”

 

“Yes, ma’am I understand. We’ll do everything we can to get Riley back to you safe and sound.”

 

***

 

After Detective Choral left Daisy spent almost an hour digging through the boxes piled in the garage until she found the one with photos in it. After locating the box, it didn’t take her long to find the photo she was looking for, the last family photo taken from two years before. She slipped it from the frame, haphazardly piling everything back into the box, and sat on the cold concrete floor as she wept over the loss of her child.

 

She’d smiled for the camera, but she hadn’t been happy. She’d already caught Leo having an affair and he’d been totally unrepentant, claiming that was the lifestyle and she’d just have to get used to it. Of course, the moment she mentioned taking a lover, that was a whole different thing, and he’d forbade it, claiming she was his old lady and he’d kill her and the first person who touched her.

 

Her parents had tried to warn her, but Leo was so handsome and charming, and being a member on the rise in the Firechrome Motorcycle Club, he promised her great things. It had taken her three years to figure out he was nothing but a braggart and a blowhard, and most of the things he claimed he’d accomplished he’d only been involved with on the periphery. He’d promised her a good life, but time after time his big scores never materialized and she’d been the one left working to support the family.

 

After six years of disappointment she’d had enough and put her foot down. Either find a job to help support the family or she was filing for divorce. That’s when the beatings started. The final straw had come when she arrived home from work to find a woman she’d never seen before sleeping on the couch while Riley played with his toy motorcycles.

 

Finding Leo had left a club girl watching Riley while he was off with the club, she flew into a rage and threw the woman out. When Leo had arrived home she was packing and had demanded a divorce on the spot. That was when he delivered the worst beating yet, but she was resolved. She reported the abuse and Leo had been picked up and spent a night in jail before the Firechrome could bail him out.

 

She touched the picture, running her fingers over Riley’s smiling face. He was the only good thing to come out of that miserable marriage. She dried her tears and rose to her feet. There was no way in hell Leo was going to get Riley, not while she drew a breath.

 

“I’m going to deliver this to Detective Choral,” she said as she stepped back into the kitchen.

 

Lizzie came to her, pulling her into an embrace. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

 

Daisy held her mother, her mouth hard. Her tears were done, at least for now. “It’s not your fault,” she said softly, holding Lizzie tight. “There was nothing you could have done.”

 

“If Leo shows his face around here, I’ll kill him,” Rich said, his eyes hard.

 

“Good,” Daisy said. She wasn’t sure her father actually meant it but she was done apologizing and making excuses for Leo. She’d made a mistake by not listening to her parents when they had warned her about Leo, then spent the next six years defending him, but no more.

 

“Do you need a ride?” he asked.

 

“No. Stay here with Mom. I’ll be back in a bit.” She gathered her purse and walked out to her 1972 Volkswagen Beetle. She plopped into the car and turned the key. It spun over willingly enough but would cough and sputter, then die. Gritting her teeth, she kept trying, stomping away on the throttle as the car cranked until it finally roared to life in a cloud of blue smoke. Leo could ride around on a new twenty thousand dollar Harley Softail Deluxe she’d been paying for, but she was struck driving a thousand dollar car with almost two hundred thousand miles that would barely run. She slipped the car into gear with a crunch, then backed out of the drive, keeping one foot on the gas so it wouldn’t die, the other on the brake.

 

Prineville wasn’t a large town, notable only for the Facebook Data Center located there, so when she walked into the police station and asked for Detective Choral she was informed he was on patrol and asked to wait. Apparently being a detective in Prineville didn’t excuse you from other mundane police work, like stopping speeders and responding to barking dogs.

 

She rose when Choral appeared. “I have the picture you asked for,” she said as she held the photo out to him.

 

“Thank you. I have already sent the information to Eugene, but I’ll send them a copy of this photo, as well.”

 

“I know it’s only been an hour or so, but any news?”

 

He smiled softly. “No, I’m sorry. We won’t forget about you, Ms. Watson. I promise. As soon as I hear something I’ll call you. If you haven’t heard from me in a couple days, you’re welcome to call, okay?”

 

She could feel the tears coming again and she willed them away and sniffed. “Yes, thank you.”

 

He took her by the arm and escorted her out of the building, stopping by her car. He smiled at her again. “I have a little girl not much older than Riley. I can understand what you’re going through, but these things take time. Go home. Try to get some rest. We’ll get Riley back to you as soon as possible.”

 

She nodded, unable to stop her tears this time, and sat down in her car. It took her a moment to gather herself enough to drive, but Detective Choral watched her until her car wheezed to life and she spluttered out of the parking lot.