Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(43)
Joanna was astonished. It had never occurred to her that Leon was anything other than Kendall and Peter’s biological father. And what Lyndell Hogan was saying was inarguably true. In a custody hearing, a stepfather wouldn’t stand a fighting chance, especially one who’d had a child-molestation charge lobbed against him. Proven or not, that was something that would have stuck to Leon Hogan like glue. After all, when Joanna had first heard there were domestic-violence issues in the household, hadn’t she assumed that Leon had been the one at fault? It wasn’t just divorce courts that were biased in that direction.
Suddenly Joanna had a much clearer idea of why Leon would have been reluctant to press charges during those previous domestic-violence incidents. He’d been doing his best to hold the marriage together, maybe for no other reason than to create a line of defense between two young kids and a potentially violent mother.
“You told us earlier that you and your son were estranged,” Ernie offered. “So how come you know so much about all of this?”
“I think I told you I come from a long line of ranchers. Our place has been in our family for three generations now. Years back a lot of our ranch hands came through that old bracero program. One of the best of those guys was named Eduardo Moreno. He had worked for my dad for years before he married a local girl and was able to become a U.S. citizen. Their youngest son, Jorge, and I grew up as best friends. We played football, baseball, and basketball together all through high school, but Jorge was always the smart one. After graduating we both went to the University of Wyoming. I was an aggie, Jorge was prelaw. I went back home and became a rancher. Jorge went to law school, became an attorney, and eventually settled in Tucson—Jorge Moreno. Ever heard of him?”
Joanna and Ernie shook their heads in unison.
“We lost track of each other over time, but then, a couple years back there was a big piece about Jorge in our alumni magazine, because he’d been given some prestigious award. And that’s when I found out that he’s built a national name for himself in representing husbands who are being booted around during the course of family divorce proceedings, and most especially ones who are fighting to be granted custody of their kids.
“As I said, Leon and I had been estranged, but once Izzy told me what was going on, I called Leon up, put him in touch with Jorge, and told him that whatever the bill was, I’d pay it. And that’s what broke the ice between us. Leon was incredibly grateful for the help. When it came time for him to move out, I helped him with that, too—paid his first and last months’ rent and security deposit. It was a small price to pay—pocket change, really—to get my son back.”
Lyndell Hogan paused for a moment, fighting back tears and searching for words. “Except I didn’t get him back,” he said at last. “Now he’s dead.”
Hogan pulled a hankie out of his pocket and dabbed at his eyes. Then he turned his gaze on Joanna. “That’s my story,” he said. “What can you tell me?”
Before Joanna could say anything, Ernie asked another question. “When your son was telling you about all his difficulties, how did the two of you communicate—by phone, e-mails, texts?”
Lyn frowned. “Mostly by text,” he said, “although there were some e-mails, too. Why?”
“And do you routinely erase text messages?” Ernie asked.
“Hell no, why would I? As much as I use that phone, it’s not like it’s going to get so full of stuff that it blows up. But you haven’t told me why you’re asking.”
“Because it sounds to me as though your son really cared about those kids—as though he thought of them as his kids rather than hers.”
Hogan nodded and said nothing.
“With Leon gone, Madison is all those kids have left.”
Lyn Hogan nodded again. “Yes,” he said. “Their mother and us—Izzy and me. Madison may not think much of us as grandparents, but that’s how we think of ourselves. Leon went to court to make those kids his. In my book that means they’re ours, too.”
“So if something were to happen to Madison, would you and your wife be willing to take the kids?” Ernie asked.
“In a heartbeat,” Lyndell Hogan declared, “and without a moment’s hesitation. And if it comes to taking her to court to ask for custody of the kids, we’re up for that, too. As far as I’m concerned, if there were ever an unfit mother, Madison Hogan is it!”
“In that case,” Ernie said, “having access to those contemporaneous texts and e-mails would go a long way to telling the real story about what was going on behind closed doors while Leon was still here. It would also give Leon a chance to speak out on his kids’ behalf from beyond the grave. It might be possible for the court to consider it as deathbed testimony. Mind if I take a look?”
There was a long silence after that. It wasn’t easy, but Joanna somehow managed to stifle the impulse to get up and hug Ernie Carpenter around the neck. Finally Lyndell Hogan reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his phone. He logged in with several swipes and taps before passing it over to Ernie.
“Here you go,” Lyn said. “Be my guest. I turned it on. All you have to do is go to my text and e-mail folders. Everything is in there—all of it. What he sent to me, what I sent to him, and a lot of what he sent back and forth to Jorge. Since I was paying the bill, Leon copied me on most of their correspondence.”