Chapter 6 #2
The scent of fresh paint lingered in the living room as she went through the house to the front door. The bright yellow school
bus lumbered around the curve and came toward her. It didn’t slow, and the woman driver waved as it rolled past to the next
driveway. Savannah frowned and jogged over as a little girl descended the steps.
The door started to close, and she rushed to stop it. “Excuse me, but where is Simon Legare? He’s supposed to get off here
too.”
The driver was in her thirties with brown hair up in a bun tight enough to heighten her cheekbones. “His grandfather picked
him up in the office.”
“What? That was never cleared with me. Who gave him the authority to take Simon?”
“You’ll have to take that up with the school.” The driver glanced at her watch. “I’m running late. Sorry for the mix-up.”
Savannah ran for the house to get her phone. Wait until she got ahold of her dad. How dare he whisk Simon away without permission?
“Hez!” She let the door slam behind her and grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter to dig out her phone.
Hez’s brisk steps sounded on the hardwood floors, and he came rushing into the room. “What’s wrong?”
“The arrogance of my dad,” she muttered as she called up his number. “He took Simon out of school.”
“Why would he do that? He hasn’t bothered much with him.”
“Cold, hard cash is the only thing that motivates him.” The call rang four times before going to voicemail. “He’s not picking
up. He probably knows I’m livid.” She called Simon next, but it went straight to voicemail. “Simon’s phone is off.”
Hez wheeled toward the door. “Blake and I will check the marina for Pierre’s car. Maybe he took Simon fishing.”
“I’m going to strangle that man. I’ll stay here and keep trying to reach him while you search. The cell coverage is awful
along the route.” Savannah followed him out as he called for his cousin. She tried to call her dad again as Hez and his cousin
drove off.
Her pulse throbbed in her neck. What should she do? This wasn’t a normal situation, and Simon’s lack of response was even
more worrisome. What if someone had pretended to be his grandfather? Stories of child predators dominated the news constantly.
She couldn’t put this off—she had to call 911. Before she could punch in the numbers, a gleaming black GMC Sierra Denali pickup rolled up the driveway, and Simon climbed out. Savannah’s pulse stuttered in her chest when she saw a familiar face behind the wheel.
Michael Willard. Grandfather. It all clicked into place.
She clenched her fists and rushed to the driver’s side as Michael lowered the window. “I was scared to death and about to
call the police. No one said you could take Simon from the school.”
The wind ruffled his blond hair. “I don’t need permission to see my own grandson.”
She curled her fingers into her palms hard enough to make her wince. It was all she could do not to slap the arrogant smirk
from his face. “I have custody of Simon. No one can take him from the school or anywhere else without my permission. Who allowed
you to take him?”
Michael raised one shoulder in a dramatic shrug. “The school receptionist knows I’m Simon’s grandfather, of course. We both
knew it was fine and there was nothing to worry about.”
“You did this so I would worry, and you know it.” She rounded on Simon. “And Simon Legare, you know better than to go off
with a stranger.”
Simon’s wide eyes went from her to Michael. “He’s not a stranger—he’s Mom’s dad, right? You don’t have to go ballistic. Sheesh,
Aunt Savannah, chill.”
His defense of Michael raised her ire even more. “Never go off with anyone without permission. Do you understand?” Simon’s eyes widened, and he gave a slight nod. “And why was your phone off?”
Michael stepped out of the truck and pushed close enough for his overpowering cologne to envelop her in a choking wave. “Don’t
take your anger with me out on Simon.”
She put the heel of her palm on his chest and shoved him out of her personal space. “Back off, Michael! I’m not intimidated
by you. You’ve caused enough problems for today. Get in your fancy truck and get off my property.”
Something dangerous flashed in Michael’s eyes, but his voice stayed calm and smooth. “He turned off his phone because I told
him to. Kids spend too much time on their screens. Don’t blame me for your irrational panic. As soon as you heard he was with
his grandfather, you could have called me. I’m the only grandfather he has, so it should have been clear.” Michael smiled
at Simon. “We had a great time, didn’t we, son? We had root beer floats at Mac’s.”
“And Pawpaw told me some cool stories about Mom, Aunt Savannah.” Simon’s voice shook, and his gaze darted between her and
Michael. “Stuff I’ve never heard.”
Michael’s low chuckle held only contempt. “You can’t object to that, now can you, Savannah? The boy wants to know his true
family.”
Her fury went from red-hot to cold determination at his haughty tone, and she closed her lips against the things she shouldn’t
say in front of Simon. “You will not take him again without permission, Michael, or you’ll be in jail. That’s kidnapping.”
Michael was enjoying pushing Savannah’s buttons way too much, and she was letting him get away with it.
She stepped back. “Simon, go inside. We’ll talk about this later.”
Michael’s lips flattened, and he gave her a pointed glare before climbing into his truck and driving off. The school would
hear about this, and Savannah intended they would understand the repercussions if they ever allowed it to happen again.