Page 29 of My Off-limits Firefighter Next Door
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
“Do you have time to talk?” Savannah asked.
“I do?” I said as we stood in line.
Savannah leaned closer and whispered, “I need to talk to you—about Roger.”
“Are you sure you want to talk in front of you-know-who? About you-know-who?” I flicked my eyes toward Alana, who was still gazing at the treats in the cabinet like she wanted to order every single one.
Savannah followed my gaze to her daughter. “We’ll have to talk in code.” She turned back to me, her voice dropping even lower. “He tried to get to her at daycare today.”
Anger surged through me, hot and sudden. My fists clenched, but I forced myself to stay calm. Losing my temper wouldn’t help anyone.
“What happened? Did they stop him?”
“They did. My custody papers are on file, so they know he has no visitation rights at this time. But if he had any legal standing, they might have been forced to let him see her.”
I shook my head, trying to process. “I’ve gotta admit, I don’t know much about custody laws in our state. So he doesn’t have the right to see her at all?”
“No,” she said firmly. “When he went in, I didn’t think he’d have a way to see her, but my counselors encouraged me not to give him any visitation. He still has rights as her dad, though, and he can take me to court to try to get time with her. That’s what scares me most—I don’t know who he really is anymore.”
Her voice wavered slightly, and I could hear the fear and frustration breaking through her words.
“So the daycare knew not to let him see her? Even though he said he’s her dad?”
“He did say that, but the papers I have on file clearly state, 'Not without my permission.' And he’ll never get that. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try. He’ll have to go through the courts to force visitation. I feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder.”
By then, we’d reached the front of the line. Savannah placed her order, added a few extras, and paid.
“Come along, Alana!” she called, and the little girl trotted after us.
We found a booth near the coffee side of the convenience store. Savannah placed the order number on the edge of the table and slid into the booth with Alana on her lap.
She shifted her daughter to sit beside her by the window, effectively cornering her unless she decided to crawl under thetable—something I could imagine myself doing as a kid, but not Alana.
With her coloring book and crayons spread out in front of her, Alana was happily occupied.
“So, what’s your next step?” I asked. “Clearly, he’s not going to stop pushing boundaries. Do you have a lawyer? Someone who can intervene? What about Detective Detwiler? You should call him and let him know what’s going on.”
Savannah hesitated. “I’ve thought about that, but the problem is, he can’t really do anything. I can’t just go to court and say I’m afraid of Roger. Judges want something concrete to have happened.”
I frowned. “He showed up at your house at eleven at night. He went to your child’s daycare. What more proof do they need?”
“They need proof he intends to harm us. Right now, he’s just... watching. And for all I know, he’s already filed to get his rights back, and I just haven’t been served the papers yet.”
Her voice was steady, but her eyes told a different story. She was scared, and I didn’t blame her one bit.
“He’s been out for what... a week? Two weeks? Wouldn’t you have papers? I mean, where is this guy staying? What is he doing?”
“I saw him in a taxi. He was headed away from the business district so he could have been coming from a lawyer’s office.”
“Did he have a lawyer before?” I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle of who this man was.
“Just a public defender.”
“And not a good one, I guess.”
Savannah snorted, eyeing me. “Good enough to get him in line for an early release. I wish I had more details about his crimes. I didn’t know he was responsible for paralyzing someone.”
