Page 59 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
I laughed, "yeah, well let's hope you're not sick with it tonight!" She swatted me and laughed. If all this shit wasn't happening right now, I'd be so happy that I was getting the chance to just be with my wife.
My phone rang—we both jumped, looking over at it on the table. David's name flashed on the screen. I swiped to answer, "David, what did you learn? Can we go get Macy?"
"Hi Caden. Okay, so I was able to reach her attorney. Jessica says Macy isn't feeling well and she'd prefer to keep her home tonight. She suggested you can go see her tomorrow instead."
A chill ran down my spine. "She's refusing?"
"Not exactly refusing, just... making excuses. Do you want me to push harder?"
I sighed, "no, not yet. Let me call Detective Morrison back first." I hung up and immediately dialed Morrison.
"Mr. Barrett?"
"She's making excuses. Says Macy's sick and she wants to keep her home tonight."
There was a pause. "That's concerning, given the circumstances. Would you say, as a parent, that you have concern for your minor daughter's welfare?"
"What?! Yes, isn't that what w—"
"Caden, I'm just getting things down for the record."
I paused, following his logic, "Oooooh. Okay."
"And would you say you had concerns for her welfare?"
"Yes, yes I would, Detective."
"Given these factors then, and the depth of your concern, I think a wellness check may be warranted."
"A wellness check?"
"Yes—essentially, we can send a couple officers over—just to ensure your daughter's safety. If your ex-wife is acting suspiciously and given the ongoing criminal investigation, it is reasonable for us to take precautionary methods to provide for the safety and security of your daughter."
"How long before that happens?"
"I can have officers there within half an hour. Meanwhile, I need you and Mrs. Barrett to come to the station. We'll need full statements about the financial crimes, your experiences with your ex, and the more recent custody issues."
Felicity stood up; her face determined. She practically yelled into the phone, "We'll be there in ten minutes."
As we gathered our documents and headed for the garage, I kept checking my phone, hoping for some sign from Macy—a real text, a call, anything. But the silence felt ominous.
The ride was silent—I don't think either of us could muster up the words. The pit of my stomach felt sour.
We pulled into the police station parking lot, and I felt like I was walking from one nightmare into the next. Six hours ago, Felicity and I had been curled up on the couch, finally finding a sort of tentative peace. Now we were about to give statements about felony charges against the mother of my child.
Inside, Detective Morrison was not what I'd expected. Mid-thirties, sharp jawline, the kind of presence that commanded attention without trying. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover more than in a police station. His eyes held the intelligence and weariness of someone who'd seen enough shit in his day to know that people are exceptionally unpredictable.
While there was something slightly rumpled about the detective, I still felt like I should smooth down my clothes and hair, and probably double check that being in the same room with him didn't somehow revoke my man-card. Honestly—is this guy a cop or a freaking model? His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up—like he'd been working long hours. He led us to a small conference room and spread some documents across the table with practiced efficiency while loading other documents onto a screen.
"Mrs. Barrett," he said to Felicity, and I noticed the way his voice had a warm, professional tone that seemed to put her at ease, "I understand you've had some concerning interactions recently?"
"Definitely. Jessica has always been a bit of a witch. But she has been increasingly hostile toward me over the past few months. Today she hung up on me twice when I tried to talk to Macy, then told my husband that Macy didn't want to speak to me, which is completely out of character."
Detective Morrison made notes. "And Mr. Barrett, when did you last have normal contact with your daughter?"
"Yesterday. She was excited about a surprise she'd planned for Felicity. She was supposed to stay with me until late in the evening, but Jessica picked her up early, claiming she needed her home."
The detective's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and answered.
