Chapter Forty-Nine

Peter Carillo

Peter listened to the lawyer go over his options. Frank Bollinger worked in family law. A divorce lawyer. A custody lawyer. A lawyer that Peter never in a million years thought he would have to consult. He sat in the small conference room, back straight, heartbroken, angry and deeply sad that Annie would do this to him, to their family.

Blah, blah, blah. That's what Peter heard. Rehashing everything Detective Sullivan had already told him. That it's a process, that it takes time, that he has options. Completely dismissing Peter's concerns about Annie's mental health and the safety of his children.

"Without independent corroboration, we won't get an emergency hearing," Bollinger was saying. "And even when we do get a hearing, without her address we won't be able to subpoena her to produce the kids."

He didn't speak—couldn't speak. None of this was fair. What about his rights? As a husband? A father?

"There is one option we have," Bollinger said. "Your wife could be charged with federal kidnapping if she took the kids over state lines. Right now, because it's only been a few days, I don't know that the FBI will look at it, but we can definitely reach out to the local FBI office and ask them to open an investigation. Phoenix PD may pass it along to them in a few days, but in my experience, without evidence that she left the state, Phoenix will drag their feet."

He didn't want the FBI involved. He didn't want anyone involved, but Annie had left him no choice.

"The private investigator knows where she is," Peter said. "Why can't we force her to talk? Subpoena her?"

"There is no cause to do so, but if she aided in the kidnapping of minors, the FBI may be able to bring her in for questioning and possibly charge her with obstruction. It's a bit of a delicate situation. Do you have any idea where Annie might have gone?"

He shook his head. "Her father lives in Montana. He left her mother when she was young and as far as I know, she hasn't spoken to him in years." It was possible, he supposed, because she had proven to be a deceptive, lying bitch.

Bollinger took notes. "It's a place to start. Have you reached out to him?"

"I don't know how to contact him."

"Do you have a name? Last known address?"

"Chris Correa. When he left Phoenix, he moved to Bozeman. Annie was thirteen at the time. But that's all I know."

He wrote down the information. "I'll have my investigator track him down and if she's there, then we might be able to compel her to return, or go to the FBI. I would suggest that we start the process rolling in state court—but it'll take time to get before a judge. We'll need that time to track her down. Once we have her location, we might be able to expedite the hearing—but the FBI would be the best option to get the kids back. They can go anywhere in the states." He paused, then asked, "Does she have friends or family in Mexico?"

"Not that I know of."

"You've talked to her friends locally, but does she have friends elsewhere? Relatives? A distant cousin?"

He shook his head. "Her mom died when she was nineteen. She's never talked about any family."

Peter didn't want to bring in the FBI. He wanted to find Annie on his own, and all he could think about was forcing Margo Angelhart to tell him. Put the fear of God into her...

The fear of God.

The priest was involved. He had talked to Annie—Peter was positive. There was nothing at Angelhart's home pointing to Annie's location, but the priest might have records.

Peter knew the church schedule, when they had masses and school, but he would watch the place for a while. There were at least two priests. During school hours would be best, because the priests would likely be in the classrooms, but would there be staff in the rectory? Where would Father Morales keep such information? Did he have a private office? Maybe in his bedroom. A safe?

"Peter, are you listening?"

He nodded, though he had no idea what Bollinger had been saying.

"I'm going to prepare the papers, but hold off filing until after my investigator talks to Annie's father, on the chance that she is there. When we file, it'll be a few weeks before we get a hearing, and that gives us time to have a private investigator track her down."

Private investigator. Like Margo Angelhart. The bitch who took his wife.

"Okay," he said.

"We don't know where Annie is, and you have no proof that Annie is a danger to the kids, so I suggest you file for a divorce. Since she has left your home and is unreachable, the divorce would likely be granted. The court would then appoint an investigator to find her."

"I don't want a divorce."

"This might be the best way to get your children back. Once you're divorced, then you have the right to custody of your children, and she can't withhold the right without violating a court order."

He didn't want a divorce, but he wanted his kids. Was this the only way to get them?

"Okay," he said, "and we can do it right away?"

"It'll take a few months. Six to nine months, but—"

"Months? Months? My baby will be walking! My son might not even remember me! I can't wait months!"

Bollinger stared at him. "There's no quick fix here. Even if we bring in the FBI, it'll take them time to find her, and that's after they determine she's left the state. If she's keeping a low profile—changed her name, keeps moving—finding Annie will take time. My recommendation is that you work this both ways—file for divorce and while it's pending I can work to get custody rights, which will put her immediately in violation. But like I said—it'll take a few months."

Months. Peter couldn't believe Annie was doing this to him.

"Once we contact the FBI, they'll interview you, look at your bank records, credit cards, computers. They have more resources than Phoenix PD. She may be arrested, depending on the circumstances."

"Hold off on the FBI for now." That was too much, and he couldn't focus on what he needed to do if he was worried about some asshole federal agent getting into his business. "I just want my family back. Let's just give it a little time first, then we can talk about it."

Bollinger nodded.

"I don't want a divorce, but I want my kids, and if that's the only way..."

"It may be. Just because you start the paperwork, doesn't mean you have to sign. We should get the process started as soon as possible. If you think of anything else—a friend from high school, a cousin, anyone—let me know and I'll find them. If she accesses your bank account, credit cards, or you get a call verifying anything like her identity or employment—let me know."

"I will. Thank you."

He wouldn't, of course. He would find out where she was and bring his wife and children home.

Bollinger prattled on about nothing Peter cared about as he walked him to the door. Then the lawyer said, "My experience tells me that in situations like this, the wife comes home within a week. If you haven't heard from her by Monday, we might want to rethink calling in the FBI."

"Okay," he said, though he didn't want the FBI involved at all.

Not when he finally had a plan.