Wood U (Carved Hearts #4)

by L. G. Pace III

  “Colt? It’s Mac Hildebrandt.”

  “Mac? What’s going on?” It took me a few minutes to get the words out. I was glad that Colt already knew most of what was going on. Having to explain what I’d just found was hard enough.

  “She just…left him here—” my voice choked off.

  “Okay, Mac,” Colt spoke calmly, “here’s what I want you to do. Our first step is to protect you and your son. You need to disappear until I can get in front of a judge.”

  What do you want me to do?” It felt good to have someone giving me direction. I needed a way out of the dark place in which I’d found myself.

  “Based on our past experience with your ex? I like to call this the nuclear option. We take you, and M.J., out of the equation. If she can’t reach you, then you have no legal responsibility to return the boy. Not that I think any judge would question what you are doing to keep your son safe. You are well within your legal rights as his father to take him out of that dangerous environment. But Patty does like to create drama, and the last thing either you need is more of that. So I want you to take some cash out, as much as you can get. Then you need to pull the battery and SIM card out of your phone. Find a decent hotel that’ll take cash. No credit cards, no debit card. They’re too easy to track.”

  “My phone? Credit cards? What the hell are you talking about?” I was struggling to keep up, and his directions had me confused.

  “Listen Mac,” he said quietly. “This is a gray area that we’re operating in. A skilled investigator could track you by using your phone or cards. All of this is just a precaution. I am going to get the right people over to her house before she has a chance to clean it all up. After that, a judge should have no problem granting you temporary sole- custody. There will be a full hearing after that, but I’m confident based on what you’ve told me that I can get you permanent custody. In the meantime, you need to lay low. Your ex has an established history of muddying the waters with her antics. It’ll be best if you and your son are out of contact until I get this handled.”

  “Okay,” I said. “How long do you think this will take?”

  “A day. Maybe two. Once you’re settled, give me a call so I know where to reach you. The judge will want to talk to MJ. Stay out of sight and let me do what I do.”

  I hoped that he could get in front of a judge before Patty could come up with a way to turn the situation around. I told myself that as long as Junior was with me, we were good. Possession was 9/10ths of the law, after all.

  I thought about taking M.J. to Kelly’s place, and then immediately discarded the idea. If she did look for us, Patty was sure to drive by Good Wood, and she’d spot my truck. Mason’s and Mom’s were out of the question as well. In the end, I took Colt’s advice and took him to a hotel. M.J. thought it was some great adventure. We went swimming, ordered a pizza, and watched an action movie. He fell asleep next to me on the bed, and for a while, I watched him sleeping like I had when he was a baby. Filled with regret and doubt, I finally drifted off.

  The next day was insane. My lawyer was a bad ass shark with a howitzer. Before Patty had time to get home, Colt had Child Protective Services at her house. This time case workers interviewed the neighbors, checked the house thoroughly, and got a real view of what Patty was like.

  Colt got us into an emergency meeting with a judge that afternoon. The judge asked Junior a lot of questions, and once the kid started talking, even I was appalled at how bad things were. Worse, was how cheerfully oblivious M.J. was to the abnormality of it all. When the judge sent M.J. out of the room with the bailiff afterwards, she grilled me. How had things gotten so bad? Where was I when my son needed me? I did my best to explain, and I think she saw how sincerely shaken I was. Colt jumped in and told the judge about our previous tussles with Patty and how she’d pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. I didn’t hear half of what Colt said. It was heartbreaking to think of how badly I had failed my boy, and the realization shook me to my core. Even sadder was that while I was being awarded temporary full custody of my kid, no one had even been able to find his mother.

  That night, I took M.J. back to our hotel. Colt had suggested we lay low until the authorities found Patty. To avoid any “unpleasantness,” is how he put it. M.J. was overjoyed to swim in the pool again and to order Chinese food. As I watched him scarf down his weight in Sesame Chicken, I thought about all the times I’d picked him up and he’d claimed to be starving. How I’d always kid him about having a hollow leg. Horrified, I had to go into the bathroom so he wouldn’t see me break down. I wanted so badly to call Kelly, to hear her gentle voice tell me that everything would be alright. I decided to let it lie. I assumed she was probably furious at me, and at that point, I just didn’t have the energy yet to explain myself.

  Colt left a message with the front desk for me to call him the next morning. When I reached him, he told me that Patty had been calling my cell phone non-stop for twelve hours. The police had finally tracked her down at her house. She’d finally called them. She’d been desperately trying to figure out where M.J. was. I almost felt sorry for her.

  Almost.

  He played me a few of her voicemails so that I would have an idea of how the calls had progressed.

  Message 1: Mac! Where the fuck are you? Call me!

  Message 2: When are you bringing M.J. home? What the hell is this? Where did you take my son you bastard? I’m calling the cops if you don’t call me back right fucking now.

  Message 3: Fuck you, Mac! Fuck you! Do you think that you’re going to get out of paying me child support? You dead beat fuck! You better call me!

  I told him that pretty much summed Patty up, and he promised to make sure the judge heard them as soon as possible. I asked if it was really necessary to play the voicemails in court, and Colt assured me that the recordings were just overkill.

  After I finished with him, I took M.J. out for chicken and waffles. We swung by Kelly’s afterward, but she wasn’t home. I asked Francis about it, and he said she was off with her mom. I needed to talk to her, but I didn’t feel up to meeting her mom, and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin their day with the kind of stories I had to tell. Instead, I loaded M.J. into the car and took him over to Mason’s house. He needed some normal activity, and I needed to go see my lawyer. The kid didn’t need to be a part of what was coming next.

  It took the better part of the day, but I finally ended up in front of the judge with Patty sitting behind the other table. I have to say, she pulled out all of the stops. She was smart enough to know threats and pleading weren’t going to work. So she threw herself on the altar of addiction.

  “I know that I’ve made some horrible mistakes, Your Honor. I accept responsibility for my actions.” I almost laughed at that, Patty had never taken responsibility for anything in her life. But she could really put on a show. Even I wanted to believe her, but all I had to do was picture that filthy house and M.J. sleeping there alone to squash the last bit of sympathy I had for her.

  “Ms. Dickson,” the judge said, “your lawyer has requested that the judgement in this case be deferred pending your completion of a substance abuse program.”

  Patty nodded. “Yes, Your Honor. I feel that if I can get a chance to be clean, I can be the mother that my son deserves.”

  The judge shuffled through some papers in front of her and shook his head. “Yes, well, according to your record, you’ve been ‘in the lifestyle,’ as it were, for a great many years. More than your son has been alive, it seems. While I commend your desire to commit to rehab, I must say that it will have absolutely no bearing on this case. Should you prove to this court that you are truly reformed one day, there may still be a chance that you might be allowed court-supervised visits with your son. If the child wants to see you.”

  That was the point where Patty realized that her ploy wasn’t going to work and when she displayed her poor impulse control issues. I was glad that M.J. wasn’t there to see it, but at least I wouldn’t have to wor
ry about Patty causing me trouble. The judge found her in contempt of court and sentenced her to thirty days. Then she added mandatory rehab. The kind of place where, as she put it, “they don’t let you out until you’re clean.”

  I picked M.J. up and took him back to my place. After a big dinner and some video games, we crashed for the night. The second my SIM card was back in my phone, I thought about calling Kelly. I decided not to half-ass it. She deserved an in- person and face-to-face explanation, not some late night call that she might mistake for me looking to get laid.

  Early the next morning, I took MJ to my mom’s house and headed over to the shop. I knew that Nick might revolt if I didn’t keep the crew in line, and the paperwork was backing up. I’d just finished the last of the bureaucratic bullshit, when I saw Kelly’s car pulling away from the building. I went out after her, but she didn’t seem to see me. I pulled out my cell phone to call her when it rang in my hand.

  “Hey! I was just calling you.”

  “So you’ve heard?” The voice on the other end wasn’t Kelly’s. It was Colt’s.

  “Heard what?” The urgent way he said it set my teeth on edge.

  “Your ex-wife got away from the guards when she was being transported. She conned them into letting her go to the bathroom and she managed to get out of the window. They have no idea where she is. Is your son with you?”

  “No. He’s with my mom.”

  “Okay, just to be safe I’m going to request a patrol car to go sit outside your mom’s house.”

  At least they didn’t consider Patty enough of a threat to put her picture out on TV. Junior had gotten into a couple of scraps about Molly since going back to school, and he didn’t need to have his mom all over the evening news, too. Feeling a little paranoid, I picked M.J. up from Mom’s house and had him come help me in the shop. The kid loves working with me and we had a pretty awesome day. I even let him boss around the interns for a while. He was a lot nicer to them than I’d ever been, so they didn’t have a problem with Mini Me taking over.

  Late that night, just after I turned off the television to go to bed, my security system went off. I’d recently upgraded to get all the bells and whistles. Between Molly’s abduction, and the crazy that is my ex, I figured it would be a good idea. Turns out I was right. Motion sensors were the first to alarm, turning on the flood lights in my front yard. Then my phone started buzzing, alerting me to someone out on the porch. I checked the camera through the app on my phone and saw an unsurprising sight.

  Patty.

  Pulling my boots back on, I grabbed a flashlight. I dialed my phone and got my lawyer’s service. After leaving him a message, I went out into the front hall. Patty stood outside the screen door, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Mac?” Her voice quivered. “Can we talk for a second?”

  I folded my arms. “Patty, the cops are looking for you.”

  Anger flared on her haggard face. “You called them? You want to put your kid’s mom in the slammer?”

  I surveyed her thoughtfully, truly seeing her for the first time in a very long time.

  How did I ever love you? Was I out of my mind? How could I not see this manipulative behavior for what it was? Oh yeah, thinking with the dick. Screws you every time. Once someone like her loses her looks, it’s a long way down a very steep hill. Going nowhere with nothing to offer the world.

  “No, I haven’t called them. But I did advise my lawyer that you’re here, and he likely will. I should call them. I don’t want to get into trouble for harboring a fugitive.” The angry look left her face, and the tears started again.

  Her dragonlady fingernails were on the screen. “Mac, open the door. I can’t talk to you through a screen like this.”

  I started to swing the door shut. “I have nothing to say to you, Patty. Go turn yourself in.”

  She began crying, heavy tears interspersed with sobs. Turning away from the door, she slowly walked down the sidewalk. Pulling out my phone, I saw a message from Colt.

  Colt: Cops are on the way. Stay inside.

  When I looked back up from my phone, Patty was standing in the road. A car passing nearly ran her down, and he or she blared the horn as the car swerved around her. Without thinking, I opened the door and went out after her. I didn’t care if she got run down. Truth be told, I couldn’t care less what happened to her. I just didn’t want M.J. to have to see his mom splattered on the street. Pulling this stunt in front of my house was just another example of her manipulative bullshit. Instead of making me angry, it just made me feel a headache-inducing exhaustion.

  “Patty! Get off the road.” She ignored me, standing there like an idiot on the dark asphalt. “Patty, for the love of our son, get your ass out of the road.”

  As I reached the mid-point between us, she turned to look at me. I was nearly to her when she took a step toward me. Then she ran to me, mascara streaming down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Mac. How am I supposed to live without your help?” she asked, squinting at me through her running mascara. I saw a flicker of an idea behind her eyes. “You still think I’m pretty, don’t you? If you keep paying me, I can take care of M.J. and I can take care of you, too. I used to make you feel really good, remember?”

  The thought sickened me, and the suggestion made it clear exactly how far down the rabbit hole she’d gone. Before I could stop her, she locked her arms around my neck and mashed her horrid smelling lips to my face.

  I struggled to get her off of me, but she clung to my neck with insane strength. Headlights flashed and I prayed that the police were on the scene. My lips were pressed tightly together and I was in real danger of suffocating if I couldn’t get her loose. Another car whizzed by before I could get her off of me, shoving her hard enough that she stumbled. When the cops finally did show up, they nearly had to pull their guns to get her cuffed and in the car. I was just glad that MJ didn’t wake up for any of it.

  The next day, I took Junior back to work with me and left him with Nick while I went upstairs to talk to Kelly. She didn’t answer the door, which was odd because it was well after she’d normally return from her run. Disappointed, I went back downstairs and found a somber-looking Francis waiting for me in my office. M.J. was busy inspecting some of the guys’ projects, and Francis closed the door behind us.

  “Mac, we need to talk.” The look on his face overwhelmed me with dread.

  “What is it?” I was sure I didn’t want him to answer me.

  “It’s about Kelly. I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but she says she’s moving.”

  AFTER LEAVING MY apartment with everything I could stuff into my car, I drove around aimlessly for over an hour. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I had only one place to go. Heading across town, I left my car with the valet outside The Driskill. I used one of the house phones to call upstairs, and my mother answered on the first ring.

  When I arrived at their suite, my mother was waiting in the open doorway. She’d removed her make up for the evening, and the unflattering light made me realize how well her efforts hid her age. I paused, suddenly nervous about bothering them. It wasn’t too late to get a hotel room and take the night to get my head together. My hesitation must have shown, because she stepped out into the hallway and guided me inside. I ended up on the couch with my mother next to me. Without waiting for an explanation, Bart took one look at my face and mixed some strong cocktails from their mini-bar.

  “What’s going on, Honey?” Mom demanded.

  I could smell the liquor wafting out of the drink Bart handed me. Shooting him a grateful smile, I took a long pull from the glass. The powerful spirits burned their way down my throat. I didn’t know where to begin, so I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

  “I…I need to know if it would be okay for me to come to Denver to stay with you for a while.” The look of shock that crossed her face was quickly replaced by pleasure.

  “Of course you can,” my mother insisted. “Kelly, you know you always have a
place with me. But why? What’s happened?”

  “I don’t think I can stay in Austin.” I could feel my throat narrowing, but I gripped the glass and fought the tears. “He works with dad…I live right upstairs. My God, I even work at Junior’s school. There’s no way to avoid him. It’s better to just get out of town.”

  “But, honey,” Mom started cautiously, “you told me that you loved it here.”

  Bart came and handed mom her signature martini and leaned across to pat my hand.

  “I’m going to leave you two to talk,” He kissed my mother’s cheek before disappearing into the adjoining bedroom. I’d always appreciated Bart’s intuition. He knew when to make himself scarce.

  “He’s back with his ex.” I managed to keep it together until the last word of the sentence. Admitting this abhorrent truth out loud broke some sort of dam inside me, and the tears began to flow. Within seconds, I was a blubbering mass, clinging to my mother like a toddler. She stroked my hair, holding me to her while I finally released my bottled up pain.

  Say what you want about avoidance, but it had always successfully allowed me to avoid heartbreak like a boss. Now, in the wake of Mac Hildebrandt, I felt like my chest was made of glass and someone had struck me with a sledgehammer.

  I wasn’t very coherent, but even so, Mom took my emotional outburst like a champ. She didn’t even mention that my snot and tears had likely ruined her lovely silk blouse. Several minutes later, my tears were under control, but what followed was one prolonged and vicious outburst.

  “He hung up on me! And I texted him after that. I’m pathetic. Who doesn’t even return a goddamn text?”

  Several drinks later, my lids were heavy, and my mother tucked me in on their couch. Alone in their sitting room, I had a modicum of privacy to cry myself to sleep.

  I woke up the following afternoon feeling like I’d been beaten down in an alleyway. My entire body ached, and I had trouble forcing myself into the sitting position. Worse, it seemed I’d slipped through a portal into another universe…a place where my all-knowing mother was suddenly unsure. Instead of helping me plan my egress from Austin, she began questioning my desire to leave.