Chapter 7 - THEY CAME FOR MY DAUGHTERS
The first police cruiser crossed the gates with lights flashing but no siren.
More followed behind it.
Two unmarked SUVs stopped near the fountain.
A county van pulled in last.
Men with badges spread across my front lawn as if they had rehearsed the route.
I watched from the upstairs landing while Grace gathered the girls in the nursery.
"What did you do?" she asked.
"Nothing today."
"That is not reassuring."
"They are not here for an old warrant."
I handed her the Penn Station key.
"Put this somewhere nobody will search."
She slipped it inside the hem pocket of Sophie's stuffed rabbit.
The choice was so immediate that I knew she had thought about hiding things around children before.
"Stay with them."
"Where are you going?"
"To make sure men with badges do not become men with excuses."
I went downstairs unarmed.
That was deliberate.
Every exterior camera was recording to three separate servers now.
Every attorney I employed had been told to join by video.
If Vane wanted a spectacle, he would get one with witnesses.
Captain Gerald Pike walked through my front door wearing a county consultant badge.
I almost laughed.
The retired detective from Isabelle's murder investigation had just returned to my house beside child welfare officers.
He had not even bothered to hide.
"Dominic," Pike said.
"Captain."
"Retired."
"Corruption has good benefits."
His smile disappeared.
A woman in a navy blazer stepped forward.
"Mr. Romano, I'm Dana Kell with Nassau County Child Protective Services."
She showed identification.
"We have an emergency removal order for Olivia, Sophie, and Nora Romano."
I held out my hand.
"Let me read it."
Pike stepped between us.
"You can read it after the children are secured."
I looked at him.
"Move."
Something in my voice made two officers shift their weight.
I did not threaten Pike.
I did not need to.
Dana handed me the order.
The signature at the bottom belonged to Judge Thomas Vane.
The allegation claimed credible evidence that my daughters were being intimidated, isolated, and coached by household staff after witnessing violent activity connected to me.
The supporting affidavit came from an anonymous source inside the estate.
"Anonymous," I said.
Dana kept her expression professional.
"The source is protected."
"And the judge signing the order is a suspect in their mother's murder."
Pike laughed once.
"There it is."
Dana looked at him.
"There what is?"
"Paranoia."
I held the order toward her.
"Call your supervisor."
"Mr. Romano."
"Call your supervisor and tell them the issuing judge appears on evidence connected to an active homicide allegation."
Pike stepped closer.
"This is exactly why the girls need to come with us."
"You mean before they can talk to anyone you don't control?"
His face changed for half a second.
I saw it.
Dana saw it too.
"Captain Pike," she said, "please give me space to handle the removal."
He did not move.
That was when Grace appeared at the top of the stairs.
The girls stood behind her.
Sophie saw Pike.
The stuffed rabbit fell from her hands.
Her face went white.
"No."
The word echoed through the foyer.
Every head turned upward.
Pike froze.
Sophie backed away.
"No, no, no."
Grace crouched beside her.
"You're safe."
Sophie pointed at Pike.
"He was there."
My blood stopped moving.
Pike's expression did not change fast enough.
Dana looked from Sophie to Pike.
"Where was he?"
Sophie began shaking.
Grace held her without forcing her to answer.
Olivia stepped forward instead.
Her voice was quiet but clear.
"Outside school."
Pike said, "I investigated the scene. Of course I was there."
Olivia shook her head.
"Before."
The room changed.
Two officers looked at Pike.
Dana slowly lowered the removal order.
"Captain, were you at Garden City Little Oaks before the reported shooting?"
"Children misremember trauma."
Grace stood.
"That was not her question."
Pike turned toward the front door.
I saw the decision before he moved.
He was leaving.
One of my attorneys shouted from a speakerphone that nobody should obstruct law enforcement.
I did not obstruct him.
Dana did.
"Captain Pike, please stay until we clarify this."
He reached inside his jacket.
Three police officers drew their weapons.
My guards stayed back because I had ordered them to.
Pike pulled out a phone instead of a gun.
He smashed it against the marble floor.
Then he ran.
The foyer erupted.
Officers chased him through the front doors.
Dana ordered her team not to touch the girls.
I bent to retrieve Sophie's stuffed rabbit.
The seam had split when it hit the floor.
The brass locker key was gone.
I looked around.
Twenty people had moved through the foyer in the last thirty seconds.
Grace came beside me.
"The key."
"Gone."
Her face tightened.
Then Nora tugged my jacket.
I looked down.
After Pike fled, the front lawn became a collision of legitimate officers, confused county personnel, and people who had no idea whether they had nearly participated in a kidnapping.
Dana forced every person to remain on camera until identities were verified.
Two officers admitted Pike ordered them not to activate body cameras until after the girls were removed.
One said he had been told I was holding the children at gunpoint.
Another had been shown a photograph of Grace with bruises on her face.
The picture was fake.
Grace stared at it anyway.
"They were building a story where nobody had to listen to us."
That sentence stayed with me.
Falcon's strongest weapon was not secrecy.
It was a believable explanation delivered before the truth had time to arrive.
State police detained Pike after his crash.
He requested a lawyer and refused questions.
The fake CPS worker had escaped with the brass key.
Her photograph from gate cameras was blurry, but Grace recognized her posture.
"I've seen her before."
We searched photographs from the preschool memorial, Isabelle's funeral, and the hospital.
Grace found the woman in the background of a funeral image.
She wore black and stood beside Rachel Stone.
Her name was listed on the guest log as Melissa Grant.
No Melissa Grant matching the photograph existed in state licensing databases.
Anthony ran facial recognition through a private system and found a possible match.
Megan Vale.
Former court clerk.
Disbarred paralegal.
Niece of Thomas Vane.
The legal operation around the girls suddenly had a family connection.
Dana Pierce traced Megan's known financial accounts.
A shell company paid her twelve thousand dollars two days before Isabelle died.
The same shell company paid Lieutenant Pike nine thousand dollars labeled consulting.
We had money tying the false order team to the original murder investigation.
It was still not enough to know who gave the order.
Grace returned upstairs and found Olivia sitting beside the dollhouse.
She was crying silently.
I stopped at the door.
Grace looked at me and nodded once, giving permission to enter.
I sat on the carpet several feet away.
"I'm sorry the key is gone."
Olivia stared at the tiny wooden furniture.
"Mommy said don't lose it."
"You didn't."
"Bad lady took it."
"That is not the same thing."
Olivia looked at me.
"Are you mad?"
The question destroyed me.
For fourteen months, she had been measuring every adult reaction against the possibility of punishment.
I forced my voice to remain steady.
"Not at you."
"At bad lady?"
"Yes."
Grace gave me a warning look.
I corrected myself.
"But being angry doesn't mean I get to do anything I want."
Olivia considered that as if the concept were new.
It probably was, at least in this house.
She reached into the dollhouse and removed a tiny wooden dresser.
The back panel came loose.
A number had been written inside in Isabelle's handwriting.
417.
The key was gone.
The locker number was not.
Olivia had remembered the exact place her mother hid the backup.
I smiled before I could stop myself.
"Your mom was smart."
Olivia's mouth trembled into the beginning of a smile.
"Smarter than you."
Grace covered a laugh.
I nodded.
"By a lot."
After the gates closed again, the estate felt less protected than before the police arrived.
The uniforms had exposed how quickly authority could be copied, borrowed, or corrupted.
Grace told the girls that a badge should answer questions too.
I kept that sentence because I had spent most of my life expecting everyone else to answer mine.
The girls watched us correct the adults at the gate and saw something they had almost forgotten.
Authority could be challenged without the world ending afterward.
She pointed toward the open front doors.
"Bad lady took it."
"What bad lady?"
Nora pointed at the county van.
A woman wearing a CPS identification badge was already getting inside.
Dana followed my gaze.
Her face drained of color.
"She doesn't work for me," Dana said.
The van accelerated before anyone reached it.
I ran outside.
The vehicle shot through the gates while police cars were still turning around to chase Pike.
Grace came after me.
"She has the key."
"Yes."
"Then Vane knows about Penn Station."
My phone vibrated.
A text from an unknown number appeared.
THANK YOU FOR THE KEY.
A second message followed.
May you like
NOW LET'S SEE WHICH OF YOUR DAUGHTERS REMEMBERS THE LOCKER NUMBER.
