Page 53 of Miss Trust

Chance

I’d always been unapologetic about my decisions. Find a problem, fix a problem. Once Tory had admitted she’d checked the pool this morning when she’d woken to find her daughter missing, I’d immediately made a phone call. Now Penelope could get swim lessons, and Tory could have her mind set at ease. Simple.

So then, why was I letting Tory’s reaction to my fix get under my skin? Mentally shaking it off, I went into my club downtown, glad to see the family attorney I’d met with a few weeks ago sitting in my office. I had to give the man props for having come himself instead of sending a courier.

“Mr. Morrison, I hope I didn’t keep you long.”

He stood up to take my hand in a firm shake. “Not at all, Mr. Maxwell. I was early, which is often my habit.”

Something I could respect. “You have the paperwork?”

He handed over the folder. “This includes the termination of parental rights, as well as the questionnaire needed. It’s simple to see where he should sign if he’s amenable.”

The “if” was the unknown. However, negating the liability of future child support should be a powerful motivator.

“Also included is the will you requested, granting the child’s aunt full custody should anything happen to the mother.”

Caleb didn’t know either Tory or Penelope, but hearing them referred to as mother and child in such clinical terms rubbed me the wrong way.

My eyes skimmed over the documents. “And the request I emailed you about last week?”

“I’m still gathering all of the information on the mother’s medical debts, but once I have it in hand, I will pass it on to you.”

It could wait, but eventually I was going to pay off Tory’s medical debts. Sensing Caleb wasn’t done, I raised a brow. “You have something to say?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I do. Your delivery to John Fitch could make all the difference.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning if Mr. Fitch senses you have money, he may hold out, hoping for a payout.”

He had a point.

“Also, I’d suggest you have an attorney or a notary present, so Mr. Fitch can’t recant and say he was coerced into signing.”

Good idea. “Great. You’re up. What are you doing this afternoon?”

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

“I’ll make it worth your while. Two o’clock should ensure we’re not missing him on a lunch break.” My private investigator had dug up Fitch’s current employment as a mechanic at a garage in Long Beach. If we were to catch him at his work place, it was important to time this right.

He gave me a curt nod. “See you then.”

I appreciated his flexibility.

That afternoon, Malik drove us both down to the garage in Long Beach. I exited my Land Rover and saw Caleb parked across the street.

He walked over, shaking his head. “I see you didn’t dress down.”

“It wouldn’t be me if I did.” I wore my expensive Italian suit like a uniform, and I wasn’t one to change for anyone or any reason.

He’d dressed down in slacks and a button-up shirt, no tie.

I spotted John Fitch immediately thanks to the photo my private eye had turned up for me. He was dressed in dirty jeans and a blue, short-sleeved shirt with the name of the garage sewn on the pocket. He wasn’t unattractive if you were into the surfer look, but I couldn’t see Tory with a man like him.

He glanced up when I approached with Caleb and Malik. I imagined the three of us must’ve looked intimidating as I saw him immediately start scoping out an exit path. Interesting.

“John Fitch?” I asked.