Chapter 3 - The Interrogation of Gavin
While the medical team fought to keep my postpartum vitals stable, the hospital’s sterile white conference room on the fourth floor had been converted into an impromptu interrogation holding area.
Gavin sat at the center table, still handcuffed, his bespoke suit looking remarkably wrinkled given the morning’s frantic events. Across from him sat Detective Miller and a senior investigator from the state department of child welfare.
“Let’s review your afternoon schedule, Mr. Mercer,” Detective Miller began, tossing a printed transcript onto the table. “You claimed your daughter was abducted from school by your wife at approximately two o’clock. Yet, according to the cell tower pings recovered from your mobile device, you were parked two blocks away from the elementary school fifteen minutes before the dismissal bell rang.”
Gavin swallowed hard, his throat dry. He kept his hands locked together on the table, trying to project an air of calm defiance.
“I was running early for a meeting in the district,” Gavin said stiffly. “It’s a coincidence.”
“A very convenient coincidence,” the child welfare investigator noted, sliding a bank statement across the table. “Just as it’s a coincidence that three days ago, you liquidated two commercial real estate holdings, withdrew four hundred thousand dollars in bearer bonds, and booked three one-way tickets to Zurich under a shell corporation.”
Gavin’s face drained of color. The carefully constructed persona of the grieving, bewildered father completely crumbled.
“I have business interests in Europe,” Gavin muttered, his voice losing its thunder. “That money has nothing to do with my family.”
“Then why was Ruby packed an overnight bag that was discovered in the trunk of your vehicle when the parking security searched it twenty minutes ago?” Detective Miller leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You weren't going to a meeting, Gavin. You were abducting your own daughter, fleeing the country to avoid the pending custody litigation with your ex-wife, Claire Dalton, and you planned to frame your current wife, Sloane, for the entire thing.”
Before Gavin could fabricate another lie, the heavy door of the conference room swung open.
A woman stood in the doorway, breathless and shaking. Her hair was pulled back in a hasty ponytail, and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying.
It was Claire Dalton, Ruby’s biological mother.
For two years, Claire had been trapped in a nightmarish legal battle with Gavin, who used his immense wealth and ruthless corporate lawyers to deny her visitation rights, convincing local courts that she was unstable.
Claire walked straight toward the table, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. She stared down at Gavin with a look of pure, unadulterated venom.
“You monster,” Claire whispered, her voice trembling with rage. “You threatened to take her away from both of us. You told me if I ever contested your custody agreement again, I would never see my daughter draw another breath.”
Gavin shrank back in his chair, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Ms. Dalton,” Detective Miller said gently, standing up and guiding Claire toward a chair. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Your testimony regarding his threats over the past six months will be vital in ensuring he never sees the outside of a federal penitentiary.”
“I’ll testify to anything,” Claire said fiercely, looking back at Gavin with absolute hatred. “Just tell me... is my baby safe? Is Ruby alright?”
“She’s safe,” the detective assured her. “She’s downstairs with the hospital’s crisis care team, waiting for Sloane to wake up.”
May you like
Claire paused, her expression softening into genuine concern. “And Sloane? How is she?”
“She delivered her baby just a few minutes ago,” Detective Miller replied. “She’s resting in recovery. But she fought like hell to protect your daughter today, Ms. Dalton. More than anyone realizes.”
