“That my granddaughter? She’s got her grandmother’s eyes, she does. Beautiful little girl. Shame no one thought to call me about her birth. I know Sandra and I have had our differences, but I can’t think of anything I did that deserves not knowing about such a sweet child.”

“Three.”

“I’m here to help, son. Truly. I may be an old man, but I have some fight in me left.”

“Four.”

Max’s gaze grew narrower, more appraising. “You kill my only daughter, Jason Jones? Because if it turns out you harmed my Sandra, hurt one little hair on her head—”

“Five.”

Jason stepped off the porch. Max didn’t follow him right away. Jason was not surprised. According to Sandra, her father lived as the proverbial big fish in a little pond. He was a highly respected judge, an affable Southern gentleman. People instinctively trusted him, which is why no one had ever intervened to help his only daughter even as her mother poured bleach down her throat.

The reporters saw his approach, and optimistically stuck their microphones into the air, screaming louder.

“Where is Ree?”

“Who’s the man on your porch?”

“Do you have any words for the person who may have abducted Sandy?”

Jason stopped next to the uniformed officer farthest from the press and gestured him over with his finger. The officer’s nameplate read “Hawkes.” Excellent, Jason could use a hawk.

The officer dutifully huddled close, having no more desire to share their conversation with the greater free world than Jason did.

“Old guy on the porch,” Jason murmured. “He’s not welcome on my property. I have asked him to leave. He has refused.”

Officer arched a brow. Looked from Jason to the reporters to Jason again as a wordless question.

“If he wants to make a scene, that’s his choice,” Jason answered in a low undertone. “I consider him a threat to my daughter, and I want him gone.”

The officer nodded, pulled out a spiral notebook. “What’s his name?”

“Maxwell Black from Atlanta, Georgia.”

“Relation?”

“Technically speaking, he’s my wife’s father.”

The uniformed officer startled. Jason shrugged. “My wife did not wish for her father to be part of our daughter’s life. Just because Sandy’s … gone is no reason to disregard her instructions.”

“He make a statement? Threaten you or your daughter in any way?”

“I consider his presence to be a threat.”

“You mean you have a restraining order?” the officer asked in confusion.

“First thing tomorrow, I promise.” Which was a lie, because Jason would need proof of threatening behavior, and the courts would probably require something stronger than Sandy’s belief that Max had loved his psycho wife more than his battered daughter.

“I can’t arrest him,” the officer began.

Jason cut him off. “I consider him to be trespassing. Please remove him from my property lines. That’s all I ask.”