“I’m defending us from getting stupid.”
That silenced the room.
Terry tapped the paper.
“We do not threaten this investigator.”
Nobody answered.
“We do not follow Ventry around.”
Another pause.
“We do not decide a nine-year-old rumor is fact.”
Gregory finally nodded.
“He’s right.”
Jimmy frowned.
“So what do we do?”
“Lawyer.”
Lucy nodded.
“Child services.”
Several men reacted badly.
Terry held up a hand.
“We get ahead of the system.”
Gregory looked toward the paint bay.
Through the small glass panel in the door, Sky was adding highlights to Luther’s motorcycle.
“We protect her legally.”
Jeff asked:
“And Ventry?”
“We document.”
Lucy answered.
“If the investigator comes here, he gets Martha Clark’s number.”
Jimmy looked dissatisfied.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“You think paper stops everybody?”
Gregory spoke.
“Sometimes paper is exactly what stops people.”
The investigator appeared two days later.
A gray sedan parked across from the garage.
Jeff noticed it first.
A man in his forties stepped out.
Plain jacket.
Camera bag.
Nothing theatrical.
He walked toward the building.
Jimmy intercepted him outside.
Not aggressively.
Just by closing the door behind himself.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Sky Holloway.”
“Why?”
The man produced identification.
Private investigator.
He said he had information relating to a missing-minor report.
Jimmy did not answer substantive questions.
Terry came outside with Martha Clark’s business card.
“All communication about Sky goes through counsel.”
The investigator looked toward the building.
“Is she inside?”
Terry repeated:
“Counsel.”
The investigator took the card.
“You understand child services already knows where she is?”
“We assumed they would.”
“This could become difficult.”
Terry looked at him.
“Then it becomes difficult with lawyers present.”
The man left.
Sky had seen the car through the paint-bay window.
That evening she confronted Gregory.
“They found me.”
He did not lie.
“Yes.”
“I can leave.”
“No.”
“You said you wouldn’t hide me.”
“We aren’t hiding you.”
“If they come—”
“We talk.”
“They’ll take me.”
“Maybe.”
Her face hardened.
“Then I’m gone tonight.”
Gregory stepped between Sky and her backpack.
Not blocking her physically.
Just standing close enough that she had to look at him.
“Your whole life has taught you that when adults make decisions, you run before they can hurt you.”
Sky’s jaw tightened.
“That kept me alive.”
“I believe you.”
She had expected an argument.
Gregory continued.
“But there has to be a day when running stops being the only tool you have.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
He looked toward Luther’s unfinished face on the mural.
“But Hollow tried to give you another option.”
Sky followed his gaze.
Gregory told her about the custody petition.
All of it.
The first filing.
The second.
The evaluator.
The reasons.
Sky sat down slowly.
“He tried?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he forgot.”
Gregory’s face changed.
“He never forgot you.”