Chapter 2 #2
Two of the lawsuits from Ted were his fight for full custody, which had been denied again and again.
In the latest one, though, Ted was spinning the story that Ally had “alienated” Charlotte from him.
The court had already ordered that he be on monitored visits only, once every three months.
That detail made Joe’s brow furrow. Supervised visits weren’t handed down lightly.
But the why was sealed tight. He’d need a judge’s clearance to look at the sealed files, or someone like Clay to crack into them.
Why they were sealed was another mystery. Obviously, Ted had had a hand in that.
The newest lawsuit made Joe snort and almost spit out the warm cup of hotel coffee he was drinking.
Ted was suing Ally for a million dollars.
He claimed that Ally had caused “emotional distress and reputational harm, which had caused him several health issues.” He had listed these as migraines, heart palpitations, kidney problems, and erectile disfunction.
The reputational harm claim said that she was running a smear campaign that was damaging his work position.
He knew for a fact that the man had bragged on one of the interviews last week about being in peak health. They had even shot the video at the local gym, where he was shown playing basketball with a bunch of at-risk teenagers.
Joe dug deeper, trying to find any evidence that the woman had besmirched her husband’s name anywhere. There were no newspaper mentions or any online chatter from Ally, not even a social media account. There was nothing. It didn’t appear that Ally had ever even have had a Facebook account.
He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d gotten into her email weeks ago—easy enough when Ted handed over the right breadcrumbs—but the only thing in her inbox were exchanges with her attorney.
Updates on filings. Legal strategy. Not a single personal message, not even spam newsletters from shopping sprees or bank accounts.
If Ally was waging a smear campaign against her ex, she was the quietest smear artist he’d ever seen.
Joe leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
Fourteen lawsuits. A DA with money and clout to burn. And a woman who seemed to do nothing but raise her kid, pay her brother back for his lawyer, and try to stay invisible.
Something didn’t add up.
The morning in Pride broke gray and misty, the kind of coastal damp that seeped into your bones, whether you invited it or not.
Joe pulled his jacket more tightly around his shoulders as he pushed open the glass door of Sara’s Nook, the small-town bakery that seemed to be the only place open before six.
The bell above the door jingled, and the warm scent of cinnamon rolls and strong coffee hit him like a punch of nostalgia.
The place was already buzzing as locals crowded the tables, sipping from steaming mugs and flipping through newspapers. The counter girl gave him a smile that was all habit, then slid a menu toward him. He didn’t need it. He ordered coffee, black, and whatever breakfast sandwich they had.
He moved over and took a seat near the window, his back to the wall, an old habit. He stirred the coffee when it came, letting the chatter of the room wash over him.
Finally, he heard what he was waiting for.
“…Ally Wilson,” one woman’s voice carried from the booth near the counter. “You know, Max’s sister. She’s back in town. She’s staying at the lighthouse for a couple months, watching the place for him and Juliette.”
Joe’s hand stilled on the mug.
Another older male voice chimed in, low and gravelly sounding. “It’s about time she escaped that bastard of an ex. The poor girl’s been through hell, or so I hear. That little girl deserves a happy life. Both of them.”
“The horrors they had to endure,” the woman whispered back. “I heard plenty from Leslie Wilson last time she came to visit. Though she wasn’t forthcoming with all the details. I can’t imagine what she’s been living with all these years, still fighting a man with such power and money.”
Joe kept his face neutral and his eyes fixed on the condensation trailing down the bakery window.
When his biscuit sandwich came and the first bite melted in his mouth, he instantly wished he’d ordered two. How did such a small town have such good food?
The front door chimed again, and Joe’s gaze jerked up out of instinct. A young couple walked in. The woman was petite with sandy brown hair and the same features as Ally, though she was a few years younger. Her hand was tucked into the arm of a tall, brown-haired man.
They were obviously Faye and Nate Elliott.
This was Max and Ally’s youngest sister.
Faye was married to Max’s wife’s younger brother Nate.
He could tell that they were locals to the core, as they were greeted by half the people in the bakery. It was a scene straight out of the show Cheers.
Luckily, they ended up sliding into the booth directly in front of him. Leaning back in the booth, he lowered his head and pretended to be focused on his phone as he let their voices flow over them.
“She looks too thin,” Faye was murmuring.
He could hear the slight oddity in her voice and remembered reading about her hearing loss.
For most of Faye’s life, she’d been deaf.
Then she’d had surgery, an implant. If he hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight speech peculiarity.
“I don’t think she’s sleeping at all. Not really. ”
“She’s holding up better than I thought she would be,” Nate replied. “But yeah, she’s running herself into the ground. The latest lawsuit is eating at her, not to mention the move. And job hunting can’t be easy in this small of a town. It’s too bad that she’s too proud to come work for us.”
Joe shifted slightly as his muscles tightened, so he reached for his coffee.
“She hates that Max has been paying her lawyer fees all these years,” Faye added, her tone softer now, as though even in public she didn’t want it overheard.
“She swore that she’s going to pay him back every penny.
She’s been paying him what she can every month.
I know that she won’t take another dime from anyone who offers.
But…” Her voice cracked with frustration.
“She can’t handle a million-dollar suit on her own.
She didn’t even get a dime in the divorce.
I don’t see how Ted believes she’s got anything. ”
“He knows she’s broke. That’s what he wants.
Her broken or, worse, crawling back to him,” Nate said.
“It’s not about the money. I don’t think it’s ever been about money.
Or Charlotte. It’s about making her suffer.
He only became the DA after their divorce, yet he’s claiming she’s caused his career to suffer.
What about her life? You said she was in school when they met? ”
“Yeah. After they got engaged, he made her quit school and refused to allow her to get a job. After they married, she had to ask for money for groceries. Then, Charlotte came along and…” She dropped off.
Nate exhaled slowly. “She knows she doesn’t have to do this alone.”
“She has to try,” Faye added. “I don’t think she’ll trust anyone easily again. She has to prove she can do this, to herself and to her daughter.”
The words made something in Joe’s chest shift, though he couldn’t say why. He took another bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly, cataloging every detail. Ally Wilson was surrounded by people who seemed ready to circle their wagons around her.
It made his job trickier. Maybe even dangerous.
The couple’s conversation changed to the holiday festival in a few weeks, and he blocked the rest of their conversation out. Half an hour later, they left, along with most of the other customers.
Joe finished his third cup of coffee, dropped a few bills on the table for a tip, and pushed to his feet. As he left the bakery, Faye’s words echoed in his mind and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that, once again, he was on the wrong side.
Instead of getting back in his car, he grabbed his camera and headed down the weathered path that led to the beach.
The tide was low and the air was thick with salt. The sound of gulls cut through the morning mist. He headed to the right when he hit the wet sand and made his way toward the lighthouse, slinging his camera over his shoulder.
He moved like a tourist, unhurried, casual, camera always up. He snapped shots of driftwood, the rocks near the base of the cliff, the endless gray stretch of the Pacific. Nothing suspicious there. He’d done this kind of cover hundreds of times.
The lighthouse stood proud above the fog, white and stoic. The attached house was quiet except for two horses that grazed by the barn.
He could picture Ally inside, maybe making breakfast, maybe going through emails from her lawyer. His gut twisted at the thought for some reason.
He zoomed in through the lens, took a few wide shots of the property. Habit. Documentation. But his heart wasn’t in it.
When he turned to head back toward his car, something small and fast collided with his leg.
“Whoa there,” he said, instinctively catching the little bundle before it toppled over.
A girl looked up at him. She had long brown hair that was in two braids, and a dusting of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were so bright they almost startled him.
“Sorry!” she said, breathless but smiling. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
How was this kid only five?
He blinked. “Are you okay, kid?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded solemnly, then peered at the camera hanging from his neck. “Are you a photographer?”
“Something like that,” he said, crouching a bit to her level. “You out here taking pictures too?” He motioned toward the little camera strapped around her neck. It was bright pink with ponies on it, the kind that parents gave their kids.
She nodded her head and her braids bounced. “Mama says I can’t take her camera anymore after I dropped it in the sand last time. It still works, but the button’s sticky.”
Joe couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “That’ll happen.”
“My uncle Max just sent me this one.” She held up the bright camera. “It takes pictures that go on my mama’s computer. I’m Charlotte,” she announced proudly, sticking out a tiny hand to shake his.
He hesitated a beat before shaking the small hand. “I’m Joe.”
“Nice to meet you, Joe.” She tilted her head then squinted at him, studying him in that open, fearless way kids do. “Do you live in town?”
“No, I’m just passing through,” he answered easily.
Before he could ask where her mother was, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Down the sand about ten feet, near the base of the stairs that led up the lighthouse, Ally Wilson sat on the edge of the lowest step. She was still as a stone and had obviously been watching them.
Even from this distance, he could feel the sharpness in her gaze. She wasn’t panicked or startled. But she’d seen everything, measured it, and, no doubt, was already ten steps ahead.
“Charlotte.” Ally’s calm voice carried easily over the wind. “Honey, go ahead and start back up to the house.”
The little girl turned instantly. “Okay, Mama!” She gave Joe a cheerful wave before dashing back toward the stairs, her small footprints swallowed quickly by the tide.
Joe straightened and took his time brushing the sand off his hands as Ally stood and walked toward him.
Up close, she looked a lot different than the photos he’d taken or seen of her.
She was thinner, yeah, but not fragile. Her beauty was almost breathtaking.
There was a quiet strength in the way she moved.
She was graceful yet powerful. As she got closer, her chin lifted and her eyes turned sharp and knowing.
“You can tell Ted,” she said, stopping a few feet away, “that I’m flattered he’s still spending money on me. But he’s wasting your time.”
He froze, the practiced lie of who he was and what he was doing there caught somewhere between his chest and throat. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Please.” Her low voice cut through his.
“You’ve been parked outside my mother’s place for weeks.
I saw you parked at the end of the drive here as well.
” She nodded toward the lighthouse. “I had hoped that you wouldn’t follow us here, but…
The only people who drive the same car past a house that often are cops or private investigators.
You don’t have the posture of a cop.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “At least not one who is still active.”
He met her stare and saw no fear behind her eyes, just exhaustion and razor-edged awareness.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” he said finally.
“Then stop taking pictures of my brother’s house.” Her tone softened just slightly, enough to make him wonder what she’d sound like if she wasn’t constantly on guard. “My daughter deserves to play on the beach without someone watching her through a lens.”
Joe swallowed, guilt tightening his gut. “I’ll keep my distance.”
She nodded, as if that answer was good enough for now.
“If you really want to know how we’re doing for your report, come back for dinner.
” She turned to go but stopped and threw over her shoulder, “Five o’clock sharp.
You can bring dessert. Charlotte is allergic to nuts.
I bet Ted didn’t clue you in on that bit.
” She ran her eyes over him once more before turning around and heading back toward the stairs without another word.
Joe watched her go. The wind was whipping her hair across her face as she reached for Charlotte’s hand at the top. She pushed it out of the way to glance back at him once before disappearing over the hillside.
Once more, he wondered whether he was working for the wrong person.