Stolen Identity Page 20
Please, God. Please.
“He asked me to check the window lock twice. He seemed quiet at dinner. I thought he might be getting sick, but maybe…” Her guilt spilled out, and she had to stop the words so that the tears didn’t spill out, too.
“Your son’s disappearance might not have anything to do with what happened at Slade’s house.”
“But you think that it does?”
“Do you have a recent photo?” He didn’t respond to her comment, and she knew that he did.
She hadn’t realized she could be any more petrified than she’d been when she’d walked into Brady’s room and seen his open window.
She could be.
She was.
Cold air blew in, carrying a hint of rain or snow.
And, somewhere out in the darkness, Brady was scared and probably calling for her.
A tear dripped down her cheek.
“Eva, I need that photo,” Detective Black said gently, and she ran from the room, ran into hers.
So close to Brady’s.
She’d planned it that way when she’d decided which of the three bedrooms she’d take and which Brady would have.
So close, but she hadn’t heard a sound until he’d cried for her.
She grabbed the framed school photo from her nightstand, pressed it to her chest.
“Got it?” Detective Black walked into the room with his bloodhound, and Eva didn’t care that she’d left her waitressing uniform in a stack on a chair. She didn’t care that a pile of college books and papers lay beside her bed. She didn’t care about anything but handing him the photo and watching him walk out the door to find her son.
“This was taken a few months ago.” She handed him the photo, and he studied it for a moment.
“Cute kid,” he said with a small smile, and she nodded because she couldn’t speak past the tears that clogged her throat.
The doorbell rang again. This time she didn’t run to answer it. Didn’t believe that somehow Brady would magically appear on the porch, tired and scared but with some explanation that would make sense. Maybe some story about sleepwalking or thinking that Mrs. Daphne’s dog was outside whining for his attention.
She walked into the living room, her heart heavy and aching, her chest tight.
Captain Slade McNeal stood near the front door, his dark hair mussed, his face drawn and weary. “Eva, I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. I had to wait for my son’s babysitter to arrive.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice sounded hollow and old.
“Have you found any evidence, Cunningham?” Slade turned to the patrol officer.
“I checked the back window. It looks like someone popped the lock on it. I’ve already called for an evidence team.”
“Good. Are you going to take Justice out to track Brady, Austin?”
“Yes. We’ll start around back and work our way from there.”
“I’ll come with you.” Eva pulled her old wool coat from the closet near the door. There was no way she could put Brady’s life in someone else’s hands. No way she could trust that anyone else would look as hard or as long as she would. He was her son, after all. Her responsibility.
“The best thing you can do for your son is stay here and answer the captain’s questions. The more information you provide, the faster we can narrow down our search.” Austin walked onto the porch, and she followed.
He might not want her to help with the search, but she had no intention of staying behind. Brady needed her, and she needed to be there for him. That was the way it had been from the moment he was born, the bond between them so strong that she’d thought that nothing would ever tear them apart.
Something had.
Someone had.
She clenched her fist.
Brady was okay. He had to be.
“I’ve called in Lee Calloway. I’ll have him question the neighbors while I work with Cunningham and the evidence team.” Slade stepped outside, and Eva walked down the porch stairs, letting him approach Detective Black. They could talk all they wanted. She was going to look for her son.
Please, God, just let him be okay. Please, help me find him.
Please.
She could not lose her son.
Wouldn’t lose him.
If that meant searching alone while the police collected evidence and speculated on the who and why and how of Brady’s kidnapping, so be it.
ISBN: 9781460314111
Copyright © 2013 by Lisa Harris
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