The following morning, I contacted my attorney, Denise Park, whose measured composure had guided me through grief years earlier, and when I explained my concerns she listened without interruption before responding with the quiet firmness I had come to respect.
“Franklin, concern is not evidence,” she said. “If you want the court to act, you must build something concrete.”
She referred me to a private investigator named Renee Dalton, a former financial examiner whose efficiency carried an almost clinical precision, and within days she uncovered details that transformed suspicion into alarm, revealing Darren’s mounting debts alongside a business venture registered under the reassuring title of Silverline Recovery Services, which upon closer examination bore troubling inconsistencies.
“It looks legitimate at first glance,” Renee explained, her tone steady. “But the address connects to multiple dissolved entities, and there are prior inquiries related to unlicensed distribution.”
My stomach tightened. “Narcotics?”
“That would be my working assumption.”
