Greg arrived at the advocacy center shortly after noon.
Dana had warned me before he came upstairs. “He has been interviewed. At this point there is no indication he caused the injuries, but we are still assessing what he knew or should have known.”
I nodded.
Kaylee heard only one thing.
“My dad’s here?”
“Yes.”
She stood so quickly the stuffed llama dropped.
For the first time since Friday evening, excitement overcame fear.
“Can I see him?”
Dana hesitated.
“Yes, but I need to be there.”
Kaylee was already moving toward the door.
Greg entered the family room two minutes later.
He looked ten years older than he had in my driveway.
His work shirt was untucked. He had apparently left home without shaving. The moment he saw Kaylee, his face collapsed.
“Baby.”
Kaylee ran to him.
He dropped to his knees.
She threw both arms around his neck.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Greg saw the bandages.
His entire body went rigid.
“What happened to your feet?”
Kaylee froze inside his embrace.
He felt it.
“What?”
She pulled away.
“I fell.”
Greg looked at Dana.
Dana said, “Don’t question her.”
His face changed.
“I’m her father.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“We are still gathering information.”
Greg stood.
“Where’s Tasha?”
Dana’s answer was careful.
“At home.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Investigators are there.”
The room became silent.
Greg turned toward Kaylee.
She looked terrified again.
He saw it.
Something in him broke.
“Kaylee.”
She stared at the floor.
“Baby, look at me.”
Dana interrupted. “Greg, don’t ask her to explain anything right now.”
His jaw tightened.
“She’s hurt.”
“Yes.”
“And somebody thinks my wife did this.”
Dana didn’t answer.
Greg dragged both hands over his face.
“I was home yesterday.”
Kaylee flinched.
He noticed.
“I was there.”
His voice cracked.
Dana said quietly, “Being physically present does not mean you had all the information.”
He looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
Dana motioned toward the chairs.
Greg sat.
Kaylee chose the seat beside me rather than beside him.
That seemed to hurt him more than anything else.
Dana kept her voice neutral.
“How often do you travel?”
“Ten days out, four home. Sometimes twelve out if a project runs late.”
“How long have you had that schedule?”
“Three years.”
“Who handles Kaylee’s daily care when you’re away?”
“Tasha.”
“Medical care?”
“Tasha usually. I handle appointments when I’m home.”
“School communication?”
“Tasha.”
“Meals?”
“Tasha.”
“Discipline?”
Greg frowned.
“Both of us.”
Dana asked, “What does discipline mean in your home?”
“Loss of tablet. Earlier bedtime. Extra chores.”
“Standing punishments?”
He stared at her.
“What?”
“Is Kaylee required to stand as punishment?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“On rice?”
Greg’s face emptied.
“What did you say?”
Dana did not repeat herself.
He looked toward Kaylee.
She pressed against me.
Greg’s eyes filled with horror.
“No.”
Dana remained calm.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“Has Tasha ever described using physical discipline?”
“No.”
“Has Kaylee ever tried to tell you she was afraid of her?”
Greg opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
That silence mattered.
Dana asked again.
“Has she?”
He stared at the floor.
“She complains.”
Kaylee’s shoulders tightened.
“What kinds of complaints?”
“That Tasha is strict. That she doesn’t like chores. That she wants me home.”
“Anything about being hurt?”
“No.”
“Anything about being hungry?”
Greg hesitated.
“Once.”
Kaylee closed her eyes.
Dana leaned forward.
“What happened?”
“She called me while I was at a site. Said Tasha wouldn’t give her dinner.”
“What did Tasha say?”
Greg swallowed.
“That Kaylee refused what she cooked and wanted junk food.”
“What did you do?”
“I told Kaylee she had to eat what was served.”
The shame on his face was immediate.
Dana asked, “Did you speak to her again that night?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Tasha texted that she ate.”
Kaylee whispered, “I didn’t.”
Greg looked at her.
She still would not meet his eyes.
His face crumpled.
“I didn’t know.”
Kaylee said nothing.
“I swear to you, I didn’t know.”
Dana raised a hand.
“This is not the time to ask her to reassure you.”
Greg stopped.
The sentence landed hard.
He nodded slowly.
“You’re right.”
Dana continued.
“Did Tasha ever tell you Kaylee exaggerates?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“All the time.”
“Did she describe Kaylee as manipulative?”
Greg stared at Dana.
“Yes.”
“Attention-seeking?”
“Yes.”
“Dishonest about physical discomfort?”
He looked sick.
“Yes.”
Dana placed the note from the backpack on the table.
“Did you know your wife sent this with Kaylee?”
Greg read it.
Then again.
“No.”
“Is the handwriting hers?”
“Yes.”
His hands began shaking.
He put the note down.
“I need to talk to her.”
“No,” Dana said.
Greg looked up sharply.
“You should not contact Tasha while investigators are at the house.”
“She’s my wife.”
“And this is an active child-welfare investigation.”
“What are they looking for?”
Dana glanced at Kaylee.
“We’ll discuss that privately.”
Greg understood.
He stood.
“Can Kaylee come home with me?”
The child stopped breathing.
Dana saw it.
“So did Greg.”
He sat down again.
The silence that followed was brutal.
“No,” Dana said.
Greg’s eyes reddened.
“Because you think I hurt her?”
“Because we have not yet completed a safety assessment.”
“I would never—”
“I’m not making that accusation.”
“Then she belongs with me.”
Dana’s voice remained even.
“Her safety comes first.”
Greg looked at his daughter.
This time he did not ask her anything.
He simply whispered, “Okay.”
Kaylee finally looked at him.
“You’re not mad?”
Greg stared at her.
“At you?”
She nodded.
His face broke.
“No.”
“For telling?”
“No.”
“Tasha said you would be.”
Dana’s attention sharpened.
Greg went completely still.
“What did she say?”
Kaylee immediately withdrew.
Dana stepped in.
“No questions.”
Greg nodded through clenched teeth.
A phone vibrated.
Dana checked hers.
She read the message, then stood.
“I need to speak with the investigator.”
Greg rose too.
“What did they find?”
Dana looked toward Kaylee.
“Not here.”
They stepped into the hallway.
I remained with Kaylee.
She was watching the door.
“Mrs. Harper?”
“Yes?”
“Dad didn’t know.”
I chose my words carefully.
“He says he didn’t.”
“He didn’t.”
“You believe that.”
“Yes.”
She looked down at the stuffed llama.
“He was gone.”
I thought of every ordinary family conversation I had ever had with Greg.
Work.
Traffic.
School fundraisers.
Weather.
All while his daughter had been living a second life inside his own house.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
When Dana returned, Greg was not with her.
“Where’s Dad?” Kaylee asked.
“He’s speaking with another worker.”
“Is he leaving?”
“No.”
Dana pulled a chair closer.
“Kaylee, the investigators found some things in your house.”
The child’s face changed instantly.
Dana continued gently.
“They found a plastic container in the laundry room.”
Kaylee began to shake.
“You don’t have to tell me what it was used for.”
Tears spilled down her face.
Dana reached for tissues but didn’t touch her.
“They also found a small camera.”
My skin prickled.
Greg appeared in the doorway behind Dana.
He had clearly heard.
“A camera?”
Dana turned.
“Greg.”
“Where?”
She did not answer in front of Kaylee.
But Kaylee did.
“In the laundry room.”
Greg stared at his daughter.
She was crying openly now.
“Tasha said it proved whether I cheated.”
“Cheated at what?” I asked.
Kaylee wiped her face.
“Standing.”
Greg turned away.
He pressed both hands against the wall.
And for the first time, I understood why Kaylee had been afraid that Tasha would “clean” before anyone arrived.
There had been evidence.
Not only of punishment.
Of surveillance.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Camera in the Laundry Room Contained More Than Proof of Punishment, and One Recording Changed the Entire Investigation
The Sleepover Began Normally Until Kaylee Wouldn’t Take Off the Pink Sneakers She Had Worn Inside All Evening
Part 7 of 44
