Of course, the boy could be programmed to begin the performance anytime the doorbell rang...
A far-fetched thought even for her.
“Don’t let me stop you from getting back to him,” Lacey said. “I’m here to check on his well-being.”
“His being will be well until I return to him,” the man said with a confidence that could have been endearing if it didn’t make her wonder just what made a grown man so certain that a little boy would stay at the table. “It’s the walls I’m worried about.”
“He’s confined, then?” she asked. Strapped in a booster? Or...heaven forbid, did the man keep a four-year-old in a high chair?
She’d seen it before. A mother who’d lost a toddler, not letting her second baby grow up. One of the saddest situations she’d had to oversee. Because in the end, she’d had to take the woman’s second baby from her, too.
“No.”
“Then how do you know he’ll be okay?” She was being difficult. She knew it even before she said the words. But the man was...bothering her.
“Because he gave me his word he wouldn’t get down from the table.”
Impressive? Or oppressive?
“Now.” Mr. Bridges’s arms were crossed again. “I want to know why child protective services is in my home checking up on my son. What’s this phone call you mentioned?”
“Someone is concerned about Levi’s welfare.”
“Nuh nuh nuh...” came from the distance.
“Someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I’m not at liberty to tell you that, Mr. Bridges.”
“I’m his father. I have a right to know if someone thinks that another person is hurting my son.”
“Not while the investigation is ongoing.”
“The investigation...” His eyes narrowed and then widened. “Wait a minute. You think I hurt my son? I’m the one being investigated?” He sounded as shocked as any parent she’d ever heard.
And she’d heard some doozies—from the innocent and the guilty.
“Everyone in Levi’s life is being investigated,” Lacey said, softening her tone in spite of how much the man was knocking her off her mark.
It was as though she’d known him before...in another life, or something as absurd.
“Well, I can tell you right now, no one is hurting my son. I’m with him every day. I’d know if he was being mistreated. Wouldn’t I?”
The catch in the deep voice struck her as he uttered those last two words, lodging someplace in her chest.
“It’s still my duty to check.” Her visit wasn’t personal. Had nothing to do with her at all—other than as an agent for the state.
“By all means.” He stepped back. And then, when she made to move forward, stood in her way again. “If someone is hurting him, I want them stopped,” he said, his gaze flint sharp.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lacey nodded.
“That’s what I’m here for,” she told him.
And hoped to God the call was a false alarm.