Chapter 7: The Interrogation of Conscience
The private study in Katherine’s home smelled of old paper, leather, and polished mahogany. It was a room where she typically reviewed complex appellate briefs and drafted landmark judicial opinions, but today it served as a makeshift command center. Through the large bay window, the Seattle rain had returned, tapping a steady, urgent code against the glass.
Toby sat at the corner of the large oak desk, meticulously sketching something in a thick notebook Katherine had provided him. His colored pencils scattered across the blotter as he concentrated on drawing a detailed rendering of the golden flower crown, his tongue slightly clamped between his teeth.
Across the room, Katherine stood by the speakerphone, her hand resting on the receiver. The call had just connected to Detective Miller of the Portland Police Department—no relation to the fugitive, a coincidence Katherine noted with dry irony.
"Judge Vance," Detective Miller’s voice crackled through the speaker, sounding weary and formal. "Our counterparts in King County forwarded your emergency filing regarding the minor, Toby Miller. We’re reviewing the custody transfer, but regarding the background circumstances of Clara Miller’s death and the boyfriend, Ray Higgins... well, our hands have been somewhat tied."
"Tied by what, Detective?" Katherine asked, her tone razor-sharp, carrying the full weight of a senior superior court judge addressing a delinquent municipal employee.
"Jurisdiction, Your Honor," the detective replied, clearing his throat. "Ray Higgins skipped town two days before Clara passed away. We have an active warrant for domestic disturbance and abandonment, but without financial tracking or credible tips on his current location, he’s just a ghost in the national database."
"He isn't a ghost," Katherine countered, stepping closer to the desk where Toby continued to draw, seemingly oblivious to the adult conversation, though his shoulders remained slightly tense. "He’s a predator who preyed on a dying woman and terrorized an eight-year-old boy. I want that warrant upgraded to interstate flight to avoid prosecution. I have bank statements and medical affidavits from Clara's hospice care showing systematic financial exploitation."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Detective Miller clearly wasn't used to being directed by a sitting judge outside her own venue, let alone one acting as a grieving grandmother. "Judge Vance, upgrading a warrant requires verified probable cause of interstate travel—"
"I am providing the probable cause right now," Katherine interrupted smoothly. "Toby informed me this morning that Higgins threatened to track him down to retrieve the golden artifact left in his possession—an item of significant monetary and sentimental value, valued well over the federal threshold for interstate theft. Document it, Detective. Send the updated file to my chambers by noon, or I will personally issue a judicial writ of mandamus compelling your department to act."
The line fell dead silent for five seconds before the detective sighed heavily. "Yes, ma'am. I'll have the paperwork updated and transmitted to the FBI’s field office in Seattle within the hour."
Katherine disconnected the call and let out a slow, controlled breath. She turned back to Toby, whose pencil had stopped moving. The boy looked up, his dark eyes wide and searching.
"Is he coming for us?" Toby asked quietly.
May you like
Katherine walked over, knelt beside his chair, and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders. "No, Toby. He’s running from the federal marshals now. You are entirely safe here. I promise you that."
***
