Chapter 9 Alex #2
A police blotter from Reno appeared—two months old. Public intoxication. Resisting arrest.
The mugshot loaded slowly, pixel by pixel, until his face emerged. Older. Bloated. But those eyes—they were the same. Restless. Cold. Already searching for the exit.
My stomach turned as I dug deeper, landing on a nearly empty Facebook profile: a man slouched against a pool table, beer in hand, smirking like the world still owed him something.
A few rants about “the system.” A plea for cash pinned to the top—”medical bills after a fall,” it said.
Beneath it, the location tag stopped me cold.
Cliffside Bay, California.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t lost somewhere in Nevada or Oregon. He was an hour north in Cliffside Bay.
Mattie used to say only the good died young. Looking at him, I believed it. My beautiful Mattie gone, and this parasite still breathing.
I closed the laptop hard and pressed my palms to my knees, trying to steady my pulse. How could Bella want to meet this man? Would she still want to if she saw what he’d become—a criminal, a drifter, a coward who’d run from every responsibility he ever had?
I was Bella’s father. Not him. Tomorrow, I’d show her what I found. Then she’d understand she was already where she belonged.
With me. And Peter.
After a restless night of sleep, I woke determined to show Bella the truth. I had to nip this in the bud. Which meant I had to confront her about searching for him. She was already in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal, so I brought the laptop with me.
“I need to talk to you,” I said.
She looked up, eyes cold and with that sullen expression that made me want to ground her for life. “What? I’m leaving for the beach in a few minutes.”
“This won’t take long,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I know you’ve been searching for your biological father.”
“How do you know that? Oh my God, Peter told you, didn’t he?”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. And, honey. I understand why you’re curious about him and that you’re feeling abandoned by me right now but, before you go any further, you need to see the truth of who he really is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What truth?”
I brought the laptop to her, pulling up Darren Slater’s mugshot and the police blotter beneath it: Public intoxication. Resisting arrest. Reno, Nevada.
For several pounding heartbeats, she just stared. Then her chin lifted. “So what? That doesn’t mean anything. People screw up. Maybe he was going through something.”
“No. This is a pattern. Your mom told me all about him.”
“You went digging for the worst things you could find so I’d hate him. That’s not fair. You’re such a manipulator.” Her voice sharpened. “You don’t know him. You just know what Mom told you about him.”
“I know enough to know I don’t want you anywhere near him.” My voice broke sharper than I intended. “This is not an argument, Bella. You will not contact him under any circumstances.”
Her eyes flashed. “You don’t get to decide that! You’re not even my real dad.”
The words cut through me. I had to lean against the island to keep from collapsing. “That’s not true. I’ve raised you. I loved you from the moment I met you. I’m your father.”
“You’re just some rich dude my mom married. She probably just agreed to go out with you because you had money and she knew she had to take care of us. Why else would she choose a total nerd?”
“I didn’t have money when we first met.” My chest hurt so much that I could barely speak. “Not much anyway.”
“Stop trying to control my life. I’m nearly grown. I should get to decide if I want to see my father.”
I exploded then, angrier than I’d been in ages and ages. “I am your father, little one. And you will show me respect. Up to your room. Now. A beach day is not happening.”
“No. I’m going to the beach with my friends.”
She leapt from the stool, but I caught her arm, keeping her from running with a gentle but firm grip. “You’re grounded, Bella. Now go up to your room.”
Before I knew what was happening, she yanked her arm away, then shoved my chest with both hands, causing me to stumble backward. Crying, her voice full of rage, she said, “I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you.”
“I’m not the one you should hate. He’s the one who denied he was even your father.”
Every flush of color drained from her face. “You’re a liar. Mom and you kept me from him. This is all because of you.”
Sobbing, she rushed from the kitchen and ran back upstairs. And yet another slammed door rattled the house. The house I’d prayed would be a place of healing. Instead, it appeared to be the opposite.
As I stood there, reeling, feeling sick to my stomach, Sonya arrived. I must have really looked bad because she dropped her bag and came rushing over to me.
“Senor Alex, please come and sit. Are you ill? I’ve never seen you so pale.”
Like a docile lamb, I let her lead me over to the table, sinking into one of the chairs. I dropped my face into my hands.
“Is it Bella?” Sonya asked.
I only nodded, too sad and upset to speak.
She patted my shoulder. “It is only her age. My daughter was the same way. You must not feel bad. It will pass.”
I gestured toward the open laptop. “She wants to meet him. Her real father.”
Sonya took one look at the mugshot and grabbed the cross that hung around her neck. “Oh, no, we must not let that happen.”
“How are we supposed to stop her?”
“She must give you all her electronics. We’ll keep her home until she comes to her senses.”
Why hadn’t I thought of that? If she didn’t have technology she couldn’t search for a way to contact him.
“Yes, you’re right. I’ll go tell her right now.”
But when I got to her room, she was not there. Instead, her window was open, with nothing but a flapping curtain to greet me.
I drove straight to the beach, every mile a drumbeat of denial.
She had to be here. An act of rebellion.
I told myself she’d gone ahead, met her friends anyway.
I’d find her laughing with them, the whole morning nothing but another clash between us.
But when I spotted the cluster of girls with towels spread out on the sand, Bella wasn’t with them.
My hands trembled as I strode over, chest tight, sweat beading on my forehead despite the ocean breeze. Around me, families laughed, children shrieked with delight in the surf, seagulls called overhead. But I barely noticed. All I could think about was my daughter. “Where’s Bella?”
The girls exchanged startled looks. One of them pushed her sunglasses up, squinting at me. “She texted earlier. Said she couldn’t make it.”
My stomach hollowed, the sound of the waves suddenly too loud, too normal. “She didn’t tell you where she was going instead?”
They shook their heads, nervous now. “Sorry, Mr. Garcia.”
I turned away, panicked. My mind spiraled. What if she was hurt, what if someone had taken her, what if I was already too late? When my gaze caught on the uniformed officer standing near the lifeguard station, eyes on the crowd, I broke into a run, sand sucking at my shoes.
“Sir?” The cop straightened as I rushed him. His name badge read “Waller.”
“My daughter’s gone. She’s fourteen. She ran away this morning, and I’ve no idea where she went.” My words tangled, breath ragged, thoughts racing faster than I could speak.
The officer raised both hands, calm and steady. “Slow down, sir. Take a breath. How long has she been gone?”
“Since just this morning. I grounded her. When I went upstairs … to take her phone from her … she was gone. Her window was open. She clearly snuck out.”
Waller shook his head, looking less than sympathetic. “We can’t file a missing person’s report until she’s been gone at least twenty-four hours.”
Twenty-four hours? That might be too late. My vision blurred at the edges. Where could she have gone? Please, God, don’t let it be in search of him. Why had I shown her what I’d found?
Waller pursed his lips, clearly impatient with me. “But if she has a phone, you can probably track it. Most parents can. That’s your best first step. See where she is before assuming the worst.”
Right. Her phone. How had that not occurred to me? With shaking hands, I pulled mine from my pocket, but the screen swam before my eyes, panic making it impossible to focus.
A familiar voice cut through the roar in my ears.
“Alex?”
I turned, and there was Gillian, wearing running shoes and workout clothes, her eyes widened with obvious alarm. She hurried toward me, placing her hand on my arm when she arrived.
“Alex, is something wrong?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing coherent came out. My throat locked. All I could manage was a strangled “Bella. She ran away.” I handed her my phone, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped it. “I can’t even see what it says, I’m so freaked out. What does the phone tracker say?”
She stared at the screen for a second. “She’s headed north. Looks like she’s almost to Cliffside Bay.”
My blood turned cold, dread settling deep in my chest. She was going to try and find him.
“No, no, no,” I said, feeling like I might be sick. “This can’t be happening.”
Gillian tightened her grip on my arm. “Alex, what is it? Talk to me.”
“Bella’s gotten it into her head that she wants to find her real father. I was stupid enough to tell her where he was, and now,” I choked on my words, “she’s headed straight there.”
“Is he dangerous?” Waller asked.
Oh, now he was interested.
“Yes, he’s a criminal,” I said. “Her biological father. She’s never met him, but she knows where he lives. Cliffside Bay.”
Waller’s right eyebrow arched. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Anything comes of it, give me a call. But honestly, I see this all the time. She’ll be back before dinner.”
“Come on, let’s catch up with her,” Gillian said. “I’ll drive.”
I almost sank to my knees in relief. She was taking charge, and that’s exactly what I needed in the moment.