Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
RACHEL
I spent my morning making phone calls and catching up on paperwork, but my thoughts kept straying to Frankie and her parents.
I wanted to believe I’d just caught them at a bad moment, but after so many years in this job, I knew better than to assume.
Once I had a minute, I opened a new case in the agency database, typing in the information I’d already gotten on Frankie.
As I typed out what I knew, along with what I’d been told by Mojave and by Arthur, I got a clearer picture on Frankie’s life.
Her parents, who both looked barely out of their teens, worked multiple jobs and were rarely home.
Frankie was forced to fend for herself, and get to school on her own.
After school was over, she was allowed to do what she wanted, and go wherever she wanted.
Neither parent seemed aware of how dangerous that could be, especially with a child Frankie’s age.
She wasn’t a teen who knew the basics of personal safety and what to do in unsafe situations.
She was a little girl who needed an adult looking out for her.
Mojave popped into my head, but I pushed the thought away. As wonderful as it was that someone saw Frankie and stepped in to care for her, he had no connection to her or legal obligation toward her care. Her parents were the ones who needed to be looking out for her.
I made note of who I’d need to meet with, including teachers and neighbors.
It would be smart to do a formal interview with Mojave as well, just to document how he found her and how she started following him around.
After that, I gathered what I could about resources for families in the area.
There wasn’t much, our small town didn’t prioritize kids the way they should, but there was a childcare subsidy that might help, or food assistance if they were struggling to make ends meet.
Maybe hours could shift and they could be home with Frankie more if they had a little help in that regard?
My phone rang while I was printing out documents, and I tucked it between my shoulder and ear, my attention on the printer that sometimes liked to suck papers back in and jam if you didn’t pull them out of the tray fast enough. “Rachel Clark.”
“Rachel, sweetie, how are you?”
The sweet sacrine tone of my mother made me sigh. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“We’re having a family barbecue this weekend. I want you to be there. It’s been weeks since you’ve been home and we miss you.”
Yes, and that was for a very good reason. “Will Scott be there?”
“Yes, of course,” my mother said, like it was normal for her to invite my ex-husband over for family dinners months after the divorce was finalized. “He’s been talking a lot about you lately. Maybe if you just spoke to him–”
Exasperated, I resisted the urge to snap at her.
“Mom, we’ve had this conversation before.
I’m not going to talk to Scott. Not only did he cheat on me, he’s also being investigated for illegal activities.
Even if I was able to get past the cheating, my job requires me to maintain professional boundaries and good judgment.
Staying involved with someone under criminal investigation isn't a risk I'm willing to take.”
My mom made a frustrated noise, and I could practically see her irritation rising. She never agreed with anything negative said about Scott. Both my parents saw him as the son they always wanted, and turned a blind eye to anything he said or did that could be considered offensive or inappropriate.
“Why do you even need a job? You’re married! You should be having children of your own instead of spending all day taking care of other people’s kids.”
“I’m divorced,” I reminded her. “And I was still working when I was married. Thankfully, since I had a savings to fall back on when Scott showed his true colors.”
“What true colors?” Mom argued. “All that nonsense about him framing that nasty biker is just rumors. Probably started by the bikers as payback for arresting a criminal.”
“He wasn’t–” I cut myself off, pressing my fingers against my temple.
I was tired of having this argument. At this point, everyone in town knew about what happened.
There was video evidence, for goodness sake.
But my parents refused to believe it, even after I showed them the court findings myself.
“Mom, I’m not going over this again. If Scott is going to be there, then I’m not going to attend. I need to get back to work.”
“Rachel,” she scolded. “He made a mistake. He admits that. If you’d just give him another chance—“
“Goodbye, Mom.”
I hung up, letting out a long sigh. I hoped eventually they’d come to accept the divorce and move on, but I wasn’t holding my breath that it’d be any time soon. Maybe after Scott was officially charged.
“Everything alright?” Ted asked, drawing me out of my head. I turned, giving him a smile.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just family stuff.” I grabbed the rest of my papers, stepping out of the way so he could use the printer next. “Hey, I’m going to step out after lunch. I’ve got a new case and I’m going to do some interviews, see if I can figure out a way to help them.”
“Sounds good,” he replied.
Heading back to my desk, I ignored the buzzing of my phone with multiple messages.
It always happened the same way. Mom called and pestered me about forgiving Scott, then Scott started in with the messages reminding me that my parents were on his side and I was being unfair to continue to ignore him.
Nothing was going to change my mind. Cheating had always been a hard limit for me.
And even if it hadn’t, the minute I knew what he’d tried to do to an innocent man, merely because of his connection to the local motorcycle crew, a man I knew had children at home who loved and needed him, it would’ve been over.
I couldn’t even think of aligning myself with someone who could do something like that.
If that man had gone to jail, those kids would have been devastated.
Thinking of the crew made me think of those kids who’d somehow found their way into the heart of it.
Only two ever ended up on my radar. Xander I knew was thriving with his older brother.
I’d seen him around town and he’d put on healthy weight and was always smiling.
Cases like his made the job worth it. Jasper on the other hand… I worried about him.
Maybe a check in wouldn’t hurt. Those three should know they had my support. Only a good man would toss their entire life upside down to take in two kids.
My attention drifted back to Mojave. He had no connection to Frankie. No one asked him to care for her. He stepped in because he said he promised. That was it. I had to wonder… Why?
When I arrived at the school, Mojave was already there, leaning against the trunk of a tree a short distance away from the front door.
He tracked me as I pulled into the parking lot and I felt my stomach tighten at the intense attention.
The suspicion made me feel guilty. I’d looked into him, what little information I could find anyway, because I needed to be sure Frankie was spending time with someone safe.
It was due diligence. But it still felt like I was poking my nose into things that weren’t my business when he looked at me like that.
Not that I’d found anything bad. After getting his full name from Wyatt, who understood the request after I mentioned Frankie’s parents giving permission for her to spend time with Mojave unsupervised, I was able to piece together some basic information on Mojave’s history.
Weston Michaels was former military, honorably discharged, and there were some documents that made me think he was a disabled veteran, but I didn't have access to medical files to find out why. The address on file for him was a PO box, so I wasn’t sure where he lived, but I knew some of the crew lived in the clubhouse itself.
It was where Zero had lived before he moved to take in the kids. I figured Mojave was the same.
The only issue I had was that Mojave’s information went dark after his military discharge.
I knew he lived here in town, but that was it.
I couldn’t find anything about him working now or how he spent his time.
He’d had no prior incidents with drugs or with illegal activities, his motorcycle looked well maintained and he didn’t look like he was homeless or without regular access to food.
He obviously was taking care of himself.
But I still felt like I needed to know more.
Mostly for Frankie’s sake, though I could admit I was a little intrigued myself.
I married Scott straight out of high school and he’d always turned his nose up at the idea of adopting or even doing school events for the kids.
I wanted to know what made up a man who so willingly took on the care of a child that he had no connection to.
I moved to join Mojave under the tree, feigning innocence as I greeted him with a smile. “Good afternoon. Are you having a nice day so far?”
“Did you find out what you needed to know?” he asked in response.
My spine stiffened and I jerked my gaze to lock with his. “How did you–”
“Prez told me you were looking into me,” he said plainly. There wasn’t any accusation in his tone, nor did he look angry with me. His voice was calm and even like it always was. Still, I felt the need to defend myself.
“It was for Frankie’s sake. I wouldn’t be doing my job right if I just let her go off with a stranger without–”
“I know. Did you find out what you needed to know?” he repeated.
It still didn’t sound like an accusation. It sounded like he genuinely wanted to know. I frowned at him, studying the blank expression as his eyes scanned our surroundings like a habit.
“For the most part, yes.”
“What else do you need to know?”
Sharp brown eyes finally dropped to mine again, studying me in turn. I pursed my lip, adjusting my purse strap a little awkwardly. I’d never had someone be so straightforward to ask things like that before.
“Well, for starters, I guess I could use an address.”
“Don’t have one.”
“Do you live at the clubhouse?” My brows snapped together when he shook his head. “You’re not homeless are you?”
He shook his head again. “Trailer’s parked in the desert. Mail gets sent to the post office. I won’t be bringing Frankie there. Too far.”
That did, and didn’t answer my question, but I supposed it made sense. If he bought a plot of land but didn’t have his mail sent there, it might be hard for him to supply me with an address.
“What do you do for work?”
“Don’t work.”
“Why not?” I pushed. The question was important because if it was drugs–
His brows furrowed, his expression flashing with just a hint of uncertainty when he replied, “Can’t. I–” He grimaced and shook his head. “Just can’t.”