Chapter 5 - THE COURT FILE
The courthouse archive smelled like dust and floor cleaner.
Ryan spent three hours there the next morning.
Some records from 2009 were restricted because he'd been a minor.
Others were accessible.
What he found didn't fit either parent's version perfectly.
Evan Mercer had petitioned for emergency custody in August 2009 after Linda failed to bring Ryan to an arranged exchange.
Linda had filed a protective petition two months earlier.
It had been denied for insufficient evidence.
There were statements about harassment.
Repeated phone calls.
Unannounced appearances.
Monitoring.
There were also statements accusing Linda of interfering with visitation.
Then came the order.
Temporary primary custody was granted to Evan after Linda failed to appear for two hearings.
Except by then Linda was gone.
Ryan sat at a wooden table, staring at the photocopy.
His father had not simply been “awarded custody.”
Linda had vanished during the proceedings.
The court reacted after she disappeared.
A clerk brought another file.
Inside was a photocopy of a missing-child bulletin.
Ryan saw his seven-year-old face.
MISSING: RYAN MERCER.
His stomach turned.
Mercer.
That had been his name.
Not Carter.
He had become Ryan Carter after Linda took him away.
There were photographs of Evan speaking at a press conference.
A quote beneath one image read:
I just want my son home.
Ryan closed the file.
He wanted to hate Linda.
It would have made everything easier.
But buried inside the same records were police notes documenting Evan appearing repeatedly outside Linda's workplace.
Fourteen calls in a single evening.
A complaint from one of Linda's coworkers.
A neighbor reporting Evan sitting in his car across the street from Linda's home for hours.
The pattern was disturbingly familiar.
Ryan thought of the gray SUV outside his apartment.
He thought of the AirTag beneath his seat.
Maybe Linda had lied.
Maybe Evan had terrified her.
Both could be true.
As Ryan left the courthouse, he saw the gray SUV.
This time it was parked directly across the street.
Ryan didn't run.
He pulled out his phone and began recording.
Then he crossed the road.
The driver's door opened.
A man in his late forties stepped out.
Older than the man in the photograph.
Gray at the temples.
Same eyes.
Ryan stopped ten feet away.
Evan Mercer looked at him as if the last seventeen years had collapsed into seconds.
“Ryan.”
Ryan's grip tightened around his phone.
“You put something in my car?”
Evan's expression shifted.
Not surprise.
Guilt.
That was all Ryan needed.
“You did.”
“I needed to know where you were.”
Ryan almost laughed.
“My mother said the exact same thing.”
Evan stepped closer.
Ryan stepped back.
“Stay there.”
Evan obeyed.
“I've looked for you since 2009.”
“So you decided to stalk me?”
“I found you three weeks ago. Then your mother started appearing everywhere around you. I knew if I approached too quickly, she'd disappear with you again.”
“I'm twenty-four.”
“I know.”
“She can't disappear with me.”
“You don't understand Linda.”
Ryan stared at him.
“That is also exactly what she says about you.”
For the first time, Evan seemed to have no answer.
Finally he reached into his jacket.
Ryan tensed.
Evan slowly removed an envelope.
“Read this.”
He placed it on the roof of the SUV and stepped away.
Ryan didn't touch it.
“What is it?”
“Seventeen years of proof that I never stopped looking for you.”
Ryan glanced at the envelope.
Then at Evan.
“If you come to my apartment again, I'll call the police.”
Evan nodded.
“I understand.”
“If you put another tracker on anything I own, I'll press charges.”
A pause.
“I understand.”
Ryan turned away.
Behind him, Evan said, “Your mother didn't run because I won custody.”
Ryan stopped.
“She ran before the judge ever decided who was telling the truth.”
Ryan looked back.
May you like
Evan's face had changed.
“She made sure you never got the chance to decide either.”
