Chapter 4

He crossed the last street before finally reaching the school, frustrated that he couldn't think of anything in time. Improvisation, that's what was left for plan C.

Winston usually drove fast, and because of the time he arrived at school, he didn't have to pay much attention to this while parking the car, there were never any people, never any cars leaving or entering. That day, something was different, there was a car that shouldn't have been there.

With the car parked in the usual spot – penultimate, bottom – he made his way to the principal's office where he found Principal Brooke busy, attending to the possible owner of the intruding car.

"Ah, Mr. Connel, we've been expecting you," said the director, getting up and signaling to sit down. "This is Chelsea Miller," she pointed to the guest, who smiled and turned to the man.

"She held out her hand to greet him, and he politely returned it, still confused. "Pleased to meet you," he said and sat down.

"We've been expecting you, Mr. Connel, the caseworker is here to do a background check on you".

"And it's excellent, I'd say," Chelsea had sympathy in her voice. Winston remained confused.

"Forgive my ignorance, but why are you checking my background?" he asked, finally.

"Well, Mr. Connel, or Mr. Winston, as you prefer me to call you?" she worried, trying to be as polite and professional as possible. He preferred the version that carried the word "Connel," as it made him feel more intelligent. "Well, Mr. Connel, I imagine you've heard the news about your sister," she lowered her voice and wiped the happy expression off her face. Winston's middle sister had passed away about a week ago, she lived in Detroit, as did most that remained of the small family, so he had not been able to attend the funeral, but he made sure to send flowers, he had not been that close to the family since an incident with his other sister had occurred many years ago.

"Yes, I was informed," he replied seriously, just enough to show that he was sorry, but not to show any lack of politeness.

"I am sorry, my condolences to you, sir," she was kind. He thanked her with his head. "I must say that you were the closest relative we could find, since both of them are dead, and his parents are retired and elderly".

"I don't understand what you are getting at, Ms. Miller," his expression showed confusion again, he was not a man who liked to beat around the bush, he was direct, direct as a freshly fired bullet.

"Morgan Connel, your niece; you are the only close relative who can take care of her, none of the grandparents are in a position to do that. You are an adult, and you have a job, I heard you moved into a big new house, so I thought I would check your background and talk to you. I had planned to have this conversation at your house, but it was already during your work schedule," she explained. Don't worry," she continued, "Morgan is already eleven years old and is well-behaved according to many people, I'm sure you would like her, and she would like you, I imagine you would have no difficulty since everyone around here admires your work. Of course, if you prefer not to accept custody of her, she will be sent to an orphanage. Unfortunately, the system is in chaos, so I need to hear from you today, Mr. Connel, so if you can tell me if…

"I accept," he said, interrupting her. "I accept to take care of her, if I am the only possible relative for that, I must accept. If they sent her to an orphanage on my whim, I would not forgive myself," he was polite. No one could imagine what was going on in that head.

"Good, I am happy with that news. If it's okay, after hours, I can pay you a visit with her, and then finalize her custody."

"Fine by me," he stood up next to her, shaking her hands gently.

"I have your card, so I'll call you when I'm going. Have a good day," and she then left the room.

"Congratulations, Daddy," the principal laughed, he laughed back, nervously.

"For a screw-up in family life like me, even being the last option has its advantages. I leave the children's area, but they don't leave me."

Back in his workroom, Winston was thinking. The girl was exactly the age he needed the “victims” to be, if she was included in the tests, it would be one less kidnapping; of course, she would have to be more liberal than the others, if she disappeared from the map, it would be very suspicious, she should continue to have her freedom, he was good with teenagers, he could make her act as he wanted; however, his plan was already in practice, and he didn't know her yet, what if she were one of those teenagers that you can't wait to get away from? He had no idea. The fact was that she was a good bet and that on that day, the kidnapping plan would be aborted, risking taking two children into his home, while a social worker is visiting, is not a smart plan. Thinking on the bright side, he would have more time to come up with a good capture plan, since he still had no idea how to get Jeffrey and Martin off the street exit.

His morning appointments had been tedious, making him miss Martin, who liked to chat and talk about soup, and even Jeffrey, with his constantly dead look and his mute teenage actions. Winston had his favorites, and to think that he would shape their lives for the next four years was heartening.

The director had given him permission to leave early, "pack up, make a good impression," she advised. The two were close, they had had an affair until recently, she liked him, and he liked her, but let's face it, he was not a man for relationships, he only thought about work. Occasionally, they still went out or had sex, she was divorced, and so was he. Their marriage had lasted only two years, until she finally got tired of being his second choice, and today, she was happy with someone else, somewhere in Denver, and he still had a life of pure work in Seattle.