Parental Abductions. One Family's Story

Daughter Abducted: Now What

When my ex-husband disappeared with our daughter, I do not think he thought I would fight to get Carol back.  However, if the malicious accusations against my character were meant to dissuade me, they had the opposite effect. It was horrifying knowing the extent of his lies about me to a court. Worse was imagining what he told our daughter now that she was spirited away.

Where I worked, they knew I was divorced. However, I was very quiet about my private life. They were unaware that I had a child. That had to change. I would need character witnesses and time off work. 

My LA attorney looked over the litigation, and then consulted with a Houston colleague.  It was explained that just because my ex was in violation of a California order, that would not mean much in Texas.

Their prognosis was that in family law, as he had our daughter somewhere in that state, that jurisdiction favored the Lone star resident. While my ex was in violation of the California custody decree, there was at best a 50/50 percentage chance that Texas was going to let me bring my daughter back to the Golden State.

While getting ready for court, we pulled in every favor, depleted my savings and began to coordinate an alternate plan. If there was any way to get Carol back to California before the Texas court date, I was willing to face legal jeopardy  to get my daughter back from the man she grew up to call her “birth father.”

A retired FBI agent took an interest.  Someone had installed a “bug” in my apartment, which was immediately disconnected.   

Two Plans, Wigs and Disguises

A week before the Houston Court date, there were two plans in place. One had us going to court.  My witnesses had plane tickets and hotel reservations. The other had us finding my daughter beforehand and hightailing it back to the protection of the legal system here.

I lived in California as a natural brunette who favored tailored clothing.  I got on the plane as a prissy blonde-haired woman carrying suitcases bulging with a rainbow of wigs and outfits to alter my appearance as the situation required.

I was met at the Houston airport by my attorney and private investigator. They did not have a positive ID on where Carol was being educated, however they had some posh private schools we could peek into windows and scope out children on recess breaks.

We circled the schools more than once, each time in a different car.  In a corner of a play yard, I spotted one of my daughter’s outfits that my ex described as tacky. Carol was unmistakable wearing the red dress with the Peter Pan collar.

My attorney and I headed to the office, pretending to be a married couple with a child we were considering enrolling.  While my attorney listened to the principal expound upon the school’s excellent reputation, an assistant took me on a tour of the facilities. On the playground, I inched closer to my daughter. We had not seen each other in over three months and she had never seen me as a blonde.

Next to my child, I grabbed her to face me. “It’s your mother and I am taking you home.” Her eyes were wide as I lifted her up and ran back through the office.

The attorney pulled out a copy of the custody order from California and explained to the principal that we were taking Carol. Then the real fun began.

My mother and her side of the family were in Colorado with plans to meet us in Denver, thinking there would be safety in numbers.  However, my attorney was concerned that there would be a warrant issued for my arrest. He advised the safest route would be straight through to where the original custody order was filed: back in Los Angeles.  We would book the earliest flight possible that was not in full daylight.

Every 4 hours we moved to a different hotel room.  I learned what my ex told our daughter -- that I did not want her anymore.  A pair of airplane tickets was purchased in an acquaintance’s name.  She had a son about the same age as Carol.

For the flight home, I was a redhead.  Carol’s was dressed in boy’s clothing and her hair was cut very short. On my attorney’s advice, Carol took the window seat. I sat next to her, a metal nail file clutched tightly in my hand.

The family phone tree had been busy. The LAX lobby was full of relatives. Carol shot off like a rocket to my parents.  I ran to the man dressed in black. I was afraid the family would assume he was there in some capacity to undo what I had just done, when in reality he was my most trusted colleague at work.

Back Home

For the next 6 months, while the State and Federal issues were resolved by the courts, Carol was hidden with a trusted Aunt and Uncle. The State of California pulled the professional license of my ex to work here.  He was ordered to pay child support. He never did.  Still,  I never said a bad word about him to my child.  It served no purpose.    

For Carol, there was no normal ever again. Her father never sent her a card, called or acknowledged her in any way until her 21st birthday.  Then she went to see him once. She came home saying, “I never want to see anyone in that family ever again.”

In the end, cancer took the daughter my ex tried to steal. She lived her whole life with the trauma of being used as a pawn by someone who should have loved her. She could not sleep with a window cracked open.  She never fully trusted men. With one exception, the man dressed in black at LAX. When asked who her father was, that man, who became my second husband, she answered that he was the only father that counted.

I would like to thank the Diamond Bar Patch reader who allowed the interview on the condition of anonymity -Lydia