“I’m here as Natalie’s mother,” I said before he could continue. “Not as a former judge. I don’t want special treatment. I want the facts handled correctly.”
A flicker crossed his face. Respect, maybe. Relief, maybe.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and then turned to Gavin. “Mr. Pierce, lobby.”
Gavin’s mask cracked. “Chief, with all due respect, my client has rights and serious concerns about his wife’s mental state. I’m here because Adrian believes the department needs the full history—”
“The full history,” I said, “can wait until my daughter has water, medical attention, and a statement taken without her husband’s lawyer narrating her life.”
He turned to me with that soft-eyed expression men use when they think they’re about to explain a woman to herself.
“Mrs. Bennett, Natalie has been unstable for months. There have been episodes. Adrian has documented—”
“Then you’ll have no problem preserving that documentation while the police do their jobs,” I said. “Did you come here before or after your client called 911?”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
When he was gone, Chief Hayes turned back to me.