Caleb
Derek's drive-by doesn't sit right with me. Just the fact that he showed up after demanding to have Ethan for the weekend is bad news. Red flags are going off everywhere. I don’t think he'd take his son—that'd be a kidnapping charge—but I don’t put it past him to harass Olivia in front of her neighbors.
I slip away from the party and walk toward the far end of the street, scanning the cross streets and driveways for the truck.
Wherever he went, I don't see him at all.
That truck isn't exactly easy to hide. But I turn the corner onto the block behind ours and there it sits, about four houses down from where our back fences meet, tucked behind a minivan where nobody from the party would spot it.
The truck sits empty with the engine off. And Derek isn't in sight.
Now I'm not someone who will make a fuss or try to start drama, but this jerk has done enough emotional damage for a lifetime. I don't like the idea of his being here and I don’t like how Olivia's entire demeanor shifted when he showed up.
I cut through a side yard between two houses, stepping over a garden hose, and come out on our street near the far end, away from the party.
I can see Olivia's house from here. Her front door faces the party, but the side door on the garage faces away from it, hidden from the food tables and the lawn.
And that sick bastard is right there. He pulls a key from his pocket, slides it into the lock, then steps inside. No fucking way this man has balls that big. He's breaking into her house because he knows she's not there to do anything about it.
This is dirty, even for him, and I'm not going to let him get away with this.
I pull my phone out and start recording as I move closer, keeping to the shadow along the fence line.
I creep forward until I reach the window on the side of the house that looks into the kitchen.
From there I can see Derek moving through the room, opening cabinets and pulling things out.
He grabs the Sertraline from the upper shelf and the Zolpidem from next to the coffee maker and opens both bottles, scattering pills across the counter and the floor.
Then he leaves both bottles uncapped and lying on their sides, positioned where a child could reach them.
My God this bastard is a total asshole, and if I weren’t here to catch him, he may very well get away with it, and Olivia would lose Ethan.
I keep recording, holding my phone steady as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of wine and two beers and sets them on the counter next to the pills.
Then he reaches under the sink and pulls the trash bag out, digging through it until he finds old food—containers with leftovers, something wrapped in foil that he unwraps and drops all over the kitchen and living room floors.
He takes a carton of milk which he opens and pours into the sink, leaving the empty carton on the counter.
The kitchen goes from clean and organized to a picture of neglect in about ninety seconds.
He moves to the living room, and I shift along the house to the next window.
He knocks a stack of books off the shelf, tips a lamp sideways, and pulls the throw blanket off the couch and leaves it bunched on the floor.
This is ridiculous, breaking into Olivia's home just to mess it up?
How pathetic. I wonder if he did this to those other women too.
When he heads upstairs to Ethan's bedroom, I can see the light flick on but I can't see what he's doing.
I can't imagine it's anything good at all.
Probably more of what he's already been doing.
What sort of animal breaks into his ex-wife's home to destroy it only to send complaints, just to get his child?
Just being a respectable man who works hard and does his job well would earn him much more respect.
When he stomps back down the stairs, I press my body against the siding, staying out of his line of sight.
He goes toward the back door, which he doesn't bother to shut, and I see the black gloves he's wearing, which I was previously too distracted to care about. Then he stomps off toward his truck.
This is insanity. He showed up at this block party for no other reason than to make trouble. What an asshole.
When he's gone, I check the footage and I got it all, including a very clear picture of his face to prove it's him.
By the time I'm back to the party street, the damage is unfolding. I see a police cruiser and Mrs. Finch is loitering. Derek is strutting up the street like he's fucking king of the block, and I start that way. I know why he came here, and I'm putting an end to this right now.
Derek leads the officers toward Olivia and stops a few feet away as I continue approaching, and I hear what he's saying.
"Officers, this is the mother I called about.
I drove by to check on my son and noticed the back door was open.
And when I looked inside, I saw the house is in deplorable condition—pills scattered everywhere, alcohol on the counters, the child's bedroom destroyed. I'm concerned for my son's safety."
Olivia wraps her arms around Ethan from behind and I see her lip trembling.
The accusation probably stings, and if those officers were to go look at that house, they'd see how bad it is.
But this recording on my phone will say otherwise.
"That's not true," she says, and she sounds like she's almost whimpering.
"My house was clean when I left. I cleaned it this morning before the party. "
"Ma'am, we received a call about a possible unsafe living situation," the first officer says, keeping his tone neutral. "Would you be willing to let us take a look inside?"
"I—yes, of course, but I don't understand what's happening." She pulls Ethan closer, and he looks up at her with wide, confused eyes. She's doing exactly what Derek wants her to do—fall apart in public so everyone will think she’s unstable.
"Ma'am, we just need to take a look," the second officer says. "It won't take long."
"Olivia," I say, stepping between Derek and the cops. He tries to elbow me out, but I manage to squeeze past without decking him, which I want to do. She turns to me with wild, desperate eyes as I step in and say, "Let them look. It's going to be fine."
"Caleb, my house was clean. I don't know what he's talking about." She's trembling as I put an arm around her, and maybe it's presumptive to think she'd be okay with it considering Derek is standing right there, but with as terrified as she looks, she needs me.
"I know." I turn to the officers and pull my phone from my pocket. "Before you go inside, I need you to watch something."
Derek's face sobers and the color drains from it as quickly as a balloon deflates. The concerned-father mask slips for a fraction of a second and I see the monster peek out at me as I turn my phone toward the officers' faces and hit play.
"I recorded this about ten minutes ago through the windows of Ms. Bennett's home.
" I look over at Derek coldly as I listen to the crashing noises coming from the video.
"You'll see a man enter through the side door using a key.
He then proceeds to scatter prescription medication across the kitchen counter, stage alcohol bottles, dump food from the trash onto the floor, and destroy the child's bedroom.
The whole thing takes about two minutes. "
The officer takes my phone and watches the video while his partner leans in beside him. Derek backs away a few steps and shakes his head, face twisting into rage and then defiance before he covers his mouth.
The first officer looks up from the phone and turns to Derek. "Sir, is this you in this video?"
Derek's jaw drops and then he closes his mouth, but he can't say a word in his defense. I have proof. "That video is—I don't know what that is. He could've staged that. He's her boyfriend. He has access to the house."
"Sir, the timestamp shows this was recorded twelve minutes ago, which matches the timeline of your phone call. And I do believe that face on that video is yours." The officer hands my phone back to me. "Can you explain how you had a key to Ms. Bennett's residence?"
"I'm her ex-husband. I guess I just kept the key in case of emergency." He has no fucking excuse, and I can tell by the blank expression on his face.
"Breaking into someone's home and staging evidence isn't an emergency, Mr. Bennett." The officer steps closer to Derek, and I see his partner's hand move to his belt. "I'm going to need you to step over here with me."
Derek's eyes snap to Olivia, then to me, and he drops the act entirely now.
His face twists into rage I've never seen on him before, not even in the worst conversations we had.
He points at me, hand shaking as he says, "You did this.
You ruined everything. I hired you to do a job and you turned on me for her. "
"You hired me to find the truth," I tell him, trying not to let my temper out of control.
"The truth is that you're a fraud who harasses women and manipulates the court system.
You just dug your own grave." I take a step toward him and hold his glare.
"And if you think this is bad, wait until the custody hearing when every piece of evidence of your scheme comes out in front of a judge. "
Derek lunges, taking a swing at me, and his fist catches me on the left side of my jaw.
The impact jars my teeth and into my skull.
My head snaps sideways and I stumble back a step, tasting blood on my tongue, but I don't go down.
Derek winds up for a second swing, but one of the officers grabs his arm mid-pull, yanking it behind his back.
The second officer moves in and they drive him against the hood of the cruiser.
"Oh, God," Olivia mumbles, clinging to me. She's been quiet this whole time, watching me do exactly what I said I would do. I'm not about to let her be hurt by this asshole ever again.
Derek thrashes and curses, trying to twist free, but the officers have him pinned. The cuffs click on, one wrist, then the other, and his body goes rigid. He turns his head and glares at me, but he realizes he just lost, and he's not happy.
The second officer walks Derek to the back of the cruiser and opens the door and guides him inside while the first officer walks over to me and looks at my jaw. "You need medical attention?"
"I'm fine." I move my jaw from side to side and wince.
"We're going to need that video as evidence," the officer says, looking from me to Olivia. "And a statement from both of you."
"You'll have everything you need."
By the time they pull out with Derek in the back, half the neighborhood knows what went down. Ethan's friends cluster around him, asking a dozen questions, and Olivia is still clinging to me.
I really thought we'd have to wait this out until the hearing in July, but Derek just couldn’t control himself. His own anger got to the point that pushed him over the edge, and he'll probably regret that choice for the rest of his life.
"You okay?" I ask, and she nods, but I can tell she's crying.
"It's okay, sweetheart," I mumble, realizing this is the first time I've used a pet name for her. Things don't always go as we plan, but they always work out if you wait long enough.
This time just happened to work out faster than we ever expected.