Love & All Things Broken

Standing at the stove, I was flipping the second batch of pancakes and bacon—Macy's favorite breakfast. I only bust out the giant cast iron griddle a few times a year, but it was worth every penny for mornings like this. I love this thing and it makes the pancakes taste out of this world. Well, that, and my super-secret recipe. The smell of breakfast permeated the kitchen, and probably the whole house by now. This was morning comfort food at its finest.

"More syrup and strawberries, please," Macy said, holding up her plate. She looked better this morning—she had a little pink back in her cheeks and she seemed more like herself.

"How's your arm feeling?" I asked, adding another pancake to her stack. I placed the bowl of sliced strawberries and the bottle of maple syrup in front of my daughter.

Today, she could have as much as she wanted—we'd all just have to plan for a nap. A carb-and sugar-loaded breakfast like this was definitely going to knock us into a food coma sometime in the next two hours.

"Good. It doesn't hurt at all anymore. Can we still go get my stuff today?"

Felicity and I exchanged glances. We'd planned to retrieve Macy's belongings this morning, but after last night's nightmare, I wasn't sure if it was the right timing.

"We don't have to rush it," Felicity said, gently. "We could wait a few more days if you want."

"No, I want to get my things. Especially my art supplies and my books. I miss them."

"Okay," I said. "Or, we could just buy you all new supplies for now."

Macy paused, looked down, and very quietly said, "but I need Lamby too."

"Oooooooh," responded Felicity. Lamby is Macy's stuffed animal. She has loved it and slept with it since she was a baby. I'd thought maybe by now she had outgrown it, but she must still sleep with it. If ever there was a time for your emotional-support-stuffie, now was it. Felicity reached over and placed her hand on Macy's back, smiling softly at her.

"Okay honey, we'll go get your stuff today. Don't worry," I responded.

"Okay. Thanks, Daddy."

"But if you change your mind at any point, we leave. Deal?"

"Deal."

An hour later, we were getting in the car, preparing to follow Detective Morrison's cruiser to Jessica's house. Morrison had shown up at the house a few minutes earlier with another officer riding shotgun. They'd briefed us that the house should be empty—Brad seems to have disappeared. He hasn't been back to his house since Jessica had taken off with Macy.

We turned into the neighborhood and followed Morrison's car into the driveway.

"That's interesting." Felicity said.

"Sure is." We were referring to the silver Lexus sitting in the driveway—Brad's car. Morrison pulled up behind it, and we parked alongside.

"I thought he wasn't going to be here." I muttered.

Morrison was already out of his car and motioned for us to stay back. The other officer appeared to be calling for backup on his radio.

"Stay in the car," I told Felicity and Macy.

"Dad, what's happening?" Macy asked, craning her neck to see.

"Caden, maybe you should stay too," Felicity urged.

"It'll be okay. I won't get too close. I just want to talk to Morrison and see if he thinks it would be better for us to leave and come back later."

Felicity nodded, looking at Detective Morrison—I could tell she was just as curious and feeling cautious. "Okay—but really, please don't be a hero in whatever is unfolding here." Then she turned toward Macy and said, "we're just going to stay here together, okay? The police need to handle something first. Daddy's just going to check it out and see if we should come back later."

I got out and walked toward Morrison, who held up a hand to keep me at a distance.

"Mr. Barrett, I need you to get back in your vehicle."

"Isn't that Brad's car?"

"Yes. And we're going to approach very carefully. He's potentially armed, remember?"

Before Morrison could move toward the house, the front door opened. Brad stepped out, looking seemingly surprised to see the police cars.

"Officers? What's going on?" He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and he looked casual. "I was just getting some of my things."

Morrison's hand was on his duty belt—close but not on his weapon. "Mr. Jensen, we've been looking for you." I stepped back a bit, trying to stay out of Brad's line of sight, but where I was still able to see and hear him.

"Looking for me? Why?" Brad moved down the front steps, a duffel bag in each hand. "I've been staying at my brother's place since. With everything happening the other night, I didn't feel like being here alone. I just came back to get some clothes and important papers."

"We'd like you to come to the station to answer some questions about the financial investigation," Morrison said.

"Questions about what? You have her computer and you have her. What could you possibly want with me?" Brad's voice carried a note of indignation now.

"It's just a few questions."

He sighed, appearing very put out. "Fine. I guess I'll come down. Let me run these things over to my brother's house and I'll plan to meet you down at the station in," he looked at his watch, "let's say an hour?" While speaking he was making his way to his car, like nothing was amiss—as if there weren't two officers standing in his driveway asking him to come to the station.

As he approached his car, Morrison stepped in front of him. "We'd like you to come with us now."

"What? Now? Well, that's really not convenient for me. I'm sorry officer, now won't work."

"Mr. Jensen, we'd like this to be amicable. How about you come on down to the station with us." He paused l, and continued, "at this point it's a request." The manner in which he said those last words left no question to us listening that what he was really telling Brad that it wasn't an actual request.

"No need to get pushy Detective. Of course I'll come answer your questions," Brad said, straightening up with what looked like wounded dignity. "I have nothing to hide. I want to help however I can."

I felt my jaw clench. I could already tell he was a lying asshole. Between him and Jessica, it's amazing my girl is growing up to be so sweet and fun.

Morrison nodded. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Jensen."

"I just need to lock up the house," Brad said, pulling keys from his pocket. "I'm not sure how much more I can do to help, but I will do my best, of course."

"Actually, Mr. Jensen," Morrison said, "we're going to need to examine the house again since you've been inside. You'll need to leave it unlocked for now."

Brad's expression shifted to one of polite regret. "Oh, I'm so sorry Detective, but I'm just not comfortable with that. I mean, I want to help, of course, and I'm happy to answer any of your questions. My attorney, however, would kill me if I consented to a search without him present—you know, since I already gave you Jessica's computer and let you look through her things when you were here before." He gave an apologetic shrug. "You understand, I'm sure. Nothing personal."

Morrison nodded slowly. "We can get a warrant if necessary."

"That is, of course, your prerogative," Brad said with a pleasant smile. "I'm just trying to protect myself legally, you understand. With everything that's happened with Jessica, I need to be careful. I hope you don't take it the wrong way."

His tone was perfectly reasonable, even apologetic, but I could see the smugness underneath. He thought he was being clever, making the police jump through hoops.

"No problem at all, Mr. Jensen," Morrison said evenly. "We'll handle it properly. In the meantime, we'll be entering anyways. We're here to accompany Macy and her father to collect her belongings."

Brad's eyes popped open. "I don't think so Detective. I do not consent to you entering my home."

It was Morrison's time to look smug, "I understand that Mr. Jensen, however since Macy is a legal resident of this home, and Mr. Barrett has legal custody, she is permitted to access the premises. As we are here at the request of her custodial parent, we will be accompanying both of them onto the premises to collect those belongings."

The sound of tires turning onto the driveway pulled all our attention. Two additional squad cars had driven up.

"Oh good! Mr. Jensen, these officers are here to hang out with you for a bit while we go inside to help Macy with her things. There wouldn't be anything you want to tell me about before I enter, would there?"

Brad was fuming at this point. You could tell he wasn't prepared for a police visit, nor was he prepared to lose the upper hand.

When Brad didn't answer, Morrison repeated himself, "Mr. Jensen. I'll ask again. Is there anything you want to tell me before I enter the home?"

Brad exhaled through his nose, stiffly. "I'd like to exercise my right to remain silent."