Finding Her Son

by Robin Perini

  “They destroyed the cabinet.” Mitch stood and looked around the facility. There were numerous lockers, all numbered. “Perry said, eighty-five.”

  “That could’ve been the year of the wine, not the locker number.”

  “Maybe,” Mitch mused. “Eight. Five. Eight times five. Forty. Eight minus five. Three. Fifty-eight.” He walked along the corridor, scanning those lockers. Some were full; some nearly empty. “If we have to, we’ll search them all.”

  “Eight plus five,” Emily said, her voice tentative. “Thirteen. Mitch! Perry’s lucky number was thirteen. He made a point of telling me this long, involved story of how everyone else’s unlucky number was his rabbit’s foot.”

  Emily’s enthusiasm warmed Mitch’s heart, but more than that, he’d come to recognize Perry had, at least in the last month of his life, laid some groundwork for them. “Did he share a lot of information like that story with you?”

  “Not really. That’s why it stuck out.”

  “Probably just what he intended,” Mitch said.

  They hurried over to locker thirteen. Inside were only three bottles of wine. He slipped on his gloves and forced open the lock. One more act that would get him suspended. Or fired. Right now, he didn’t care.

  He pulled the bottles one by one from the cabinet. “An eighty-five Merlot,” he said. He hefted the bottle in his hands. “The weight is wrong.”

  He turned it over, studying it from every angle, then smiled. “Well done, Perry.” He twisted the bottom, and it screwed open. A tube fell out. He opened the lid, revealing several sheets of paper coiled inside.

  “Clever guy,” Mitch said.

  Emily started to remove the papers, and Mitch shook his head. “No. Not here. Not now.” He pulled out his phone and tapped the speed dial.

  “Our fingerprints are all over this place. We have to be here when they arrive.”

  Emily gripped the tube. “You’re not going to show them Perry’s files?”

  “Not yet, but you have to understand what we’ve done here today could cost us a prosecution.”

  “I want these guys in jail, but I won’t let one more of Perry’s clues get lost in the police department, Mitch. I only trust us to find Joshua.”

  Her words solidified the dark cloud on Mitch’s soul, but he pushed it aside. “Let’s get outside and wait for the cruiser. Then we’ll go back to Noah’s.”

  EMILY SAT HUDDLED IN the truck. Heat blared at her, and she clutched the wine bottle in her arms.

  Cops swarmed the wine shop. Ian had shown up alongside the coroner. Two bodies in black bags had been carted off, and Emily hadn’t ever seen Detective Tanner as furious as he was right now—or Mitch’s expression as cold and withdrawn.

  Tanner, his face red, pulled Mitch aside and poked at his chest. Mitch’s entire body went stiff, and he reached under his jacket. He pulled out his gun and badge and shoved them at the detective, then turned his back on his boss.

  Oh, no. She’d watched enough television to know what that meant.

  Had she cost Mitch his job?

  She needed his help, but she knew enough about Mitch to know his career meant everything to him. Otherwise he wouldn’t be fighting so hard to get his SWAT position back. His work defined him. She couldn’t let him sacrifice himself.

  The weight of the bottle they’d hidden from the police turned heavy. Maybe Perry had given her enough that she could help herself and Mitch at the same time. Once they found Joshua, everything would be fine.

  She twisted the bottom of the bottle open and slid out the documents. She rifled through them, but at the top of one paper was a phone number and a single word circled: Adoption.

  The word screamed through her head. She looked up at Mitch, who still argued with Tanner. She bit her lip and with a deep breath took out her cell phone and dialed the number.

  Every ring vibrated through her, rattling her already shot nerves. She held her finger over the end call button. Another ring. Then a woman’s voice came on.

  “Anderson and Wiley. We specialize in private adoptions. How can I help you?”

  She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Had Joshua been adopted? Could this woman lead her to her son?

  “Hello?”

  Emily forced herself out of the fog. “Umm, yes. I wondered…I mean—”

  “You’re interested in adoption?”

  The kind voice seemed like a grandmother’s, and even though she wanted to spill out her entire story and scream at this woman to tell her everything, Emily hung on to the calm and patience she’d learned over the last year of dead end after dead end. Her mind whirled through possibilities, and she finally settled on a strategy.

  “Y-yes. I don’t really know what to ask.”

  “You want a baby.”

  “Oh, yes.” Emily could hardly keep the eagerness from her voice. “I’ve tried so hard…”

  “I understand, my dear. You have to know it can be expensive, though. Our young mothers need their living and hospital expenses paid, postpartum visits seen to, that sort of thing. I hate to be indelicate, but if that’s not something—”

  “Money’s not an issue,” Emily said quickly. When it came to Joshua, she would hock or sell everything she owned.

  “Fine. If you’d like, we could set up a meeting with you. Discuss your options.”

  “I’d like that. When’s your soonest opening? I really want—”

  She knew the woman could hear her desperation, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I understand. It’s an emotional issue. Tell you what. You sound like a nice girl. I could fit you in—” rustling paper filtered through the phone “—Thursday afternoon, I think. At the end of the day.”

  “I was hoping we could talk today.” Emily couldn’t hide the real disappointment.

  “I’m sorry, dear. We just don’t have time. If you’re not interested…”

  “Of course I am. I’ll be there. Thank you. Thank you.”

  Emily secured the appointment, gave the woman a false name and ended the call. She leaned back in the seat, clutching the phone.

  “What have you done?”

  Mitch’s deep voice nearly shot Emily out of her seat. The phone flew out of her hand. Standing just inside the open door of the truck, Mitch snagged the cell out of mid-air right before he tucked his badge and gun under his coat.

  “You scared me.” She glared.

  “And you terrify me.” He pressed a couple of buttons on the phone. “Who were you talking with?”

  He crossed his arms and stood there, silent, waiting.

  “I thought Tanner fired you,” she said in a lame effort to change the subject.

  He shook his head at the obvious attempt but answered anyway. “He threatened to. I quit. He walked away in disgust with a lecture about protocol, then returned my badge and gun. We’ll see.”

  Many might not be able to tell if Mitch was happy or not. His face was expressionless as stone, but Emily knew better. His voice was clipped and short as he toyed with the electronics in his hand, but the tension in his neck and arms told her he was furious.

  “I’m glad,” she said gamely. “I know your job means a lot to you.”

  “Give it a rest, Emily. Who did you call?”

  She toyed with her too-long jeans. “You looked like you were in trouble. I thought maybe if I could find Joshua on my own, you wouldn’t have to be involved…”

  Mitch’s gaze snapped to the open bottle and papers on her lap. He plucked them and scanned them. “You used one of the numbers?”

  His jaw went tight, and his eyes flared with fury with a dangerous look that made her shiver. She’d seen it focused on others. She didn’t like being on the receiving end.

  He slipped into the truck and closed the door before twisting to her. “The adoption number?”

  She nodded, avoiding his glance.

  “What did you tell them?”

  The softness in his voice made her shiver. There was not a whisper of the desi
re she’d experienced last night and this morning. He was a man trying to hang on to control.

  “I just called to see whose number it was.”

  “I can hear the but in your voice. You didn’t hang up, did you?”

  She shook her head.

  He let out a violent curse that made her wince. “Tell me every word that was said, and don’t leave anything out.”

  As Emily relayed the conversation, Mitch released a tired sigh and rested his head on the back of the seat. The more she spoke, the more and more she realized she’d been a fool. She was so used to doing everything on her own, working around the cops, that she hadn’t considered anything but her own needs.

  “Didn’t it occur to you that I have contacts? You called from your phone. What if they track the number?”

  “Perry made me block it, so my name doesn’t show up.”

  “Thank God for small favors. That may give us some time, but if they forwarded your call to an 800 number, call blocking doesn’t work. If they have contacts at the police or phone company, it’s only a matter of time before they have your name.”

  So much she didn’t know. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose to try to ward off the headache threatening to pound behind her eyes while he drummed his fingers on the dash.

  “Okay, first we cancel your phone.”

  “We can’t. The woman could call again.”

  “Damn.” Mitch rubbed his temple. “Okay. I’ll make a couple of calls.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you hurt because of me.”

  Mitch twisted in the seat and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You have to trust me, Emily. Let me help you. That’s why I’m here.”

  She nodded. “I do trust you.”

  Her clear expression made his heart ache. For now, he just had to keep her safe. He would deal with the consequences—and there would be huge repercussions—later.

  “How much trouble did I get us in?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. We’ll deal with the fallout when we have to. For now, we take Perry’s papers back to Noah’s house and go through them. Then we plan our next move. Together. No more on your own. You got me?”

  “Together.”

  Mitch yanked the car into gear and pulled into the street.

  “Mitch,” Emily said, her voice quiet. “I wanted you to know that it won’t happen—”

  “Hold that thought.”

  Mitch’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. She recognized the intensity on his face. He checked both mirrors, reached the next light and, after it turned red, made a quick right. He let out another curse.

  “You buckled up?” he asked.

  Emily snapped her seat belt. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have a tail.”

  Chapter Ten

  Mitch stepped on the accelerator and maneuvered through several sharp turns as Emily twisted and looked at the nondescript vehicle behind them. The SUV jostled her, and she gripped the door handle.

  Mitch let out a long breath. “False alarm. This time.”

  Her gorgeous baby blues met his, concern filling them. He didn’t like making her worry over nothing. He’d overreacted, but without the security of his department or teammates behind him, he couldn’t afford to make any assumptions. No one had his back. Except Emily.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I know how to prevent a tail. I’m not taking a chance on our safe house being compromised.”

  Mitch took detour after detour until finally Emily leaned her head against the seat. “Can we stop soon? Even I don’t know how to get to Noah’s house from here.”

  “That’s too bad, because it’s right around the corner.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  Mitch parked and bit back a grin as Emily leaped out of the truck. Nothing serpentine about her sprint to the house. He followed her in after she’d unlocked the house and caught her coming out of the bathroom, a relieved look on her face. “Remind me never to go on a long trip with you,” she said.

  “Some of us hack it, some of us don’t.”

  “Some of us have abnormally strong kidneys.” She smiled and sat down at the large dining table.

  Mitch tugged a chair to her side. He’d seen enough of Perry’s notes to know there were likely some leads, and to know they’d probably need help. Emily opened the tube and spread out the few sheets of paper the PI had stuffed into the hiding place.

  Mitch turned the bottle over. “Pretty clever.”

  “Have you changed your mind about him?”

  “Maybe. I still think some of those leads of his were totally bogus.”

  “Me, too.”

  He leaned back in his chair and stared at her. “My God. Emily Wentworth admitting someone was less than who they appeared to be. I’m stunned.”

  “I wanted to believe him. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt.” She glared at him. “But I can see now that a lot of his early leads weren’t…”

  “Valid?” Mitch said. “I saw them. Missing children who were clearly custody disputes. He wasted valuable time.”

  “So did the police department. They kept investigating Eric and me. We weren’t responsible.”

  Mitch couldn’t fix the mistakes, but he could make a difference now. Only if she let him. He turned Emily’s chair to him and placed his hands on her thighs. “Do you trust me? Do you trust that I have your best interests at heart?”

  “Of course.”

  Mitch let out a slow, steady breath. He met and held her gaze. “Did you know your husband contacted Dane Tanner the day before the accident?”

  “That’s impossible.” A slow dawning settled in her eyes. She sagged back in the chair. “Why didn’t someone tell me?”

  “I probably shouldn’t have now, but I want you to think hard, Emily. Remember the weeks before the accident. Did Eric act strangely? Did he do or say anything odd?”

  She gripped his hands in hers.

  All he could do was be there for her. He couldn’t tell her what to remember, he could only try to pick apart the clues and uncover the truth. “I know it’s hard, but the more we know about what happened that night, the better chance we have of putting these pieces together. Right now, things don’t fit. An organized attack on you. Someone trying to frame you. Missing evidence.” He ticked through the list, the implications becoming clearer and clearer. “Then the murders of Vanessa, Perry and the wine-storage couple. It doesn’t track.”

  Emily pulled her hand from his, and the loss of her touch tore at Mitch’s heart, but not nearly as much as the heartbroken look on her face.

  “I’ve been thinking about Eric a lot the past few days,” she said. “He was a wonderful man, but he wasn’t perfect. He pulled away from me the last couple of months of my pregnancy. He wouldn’t talk to me. There were whispered conversations over the phone. At the time, I wondered if he was having an affair.” Emily wrapped her arms about herself. “I’ve never said those words aloud. Not to anyone.”

  Mitch wouldn’t let her fold back into herself. He clasped her hands lightly in his, stroking the pulse point at her wrist with his thumb. “What do you believe now?”

  She stared at the floor and finally raised her head, her expression haunted. “I think he knew we were in danger. I don’t know why or how, because money was tight, but I think he set up that account with money so we could run away if we had to. He just didn’t tell me. He wasn’t honest.” She squeezed his hands so hard her fingers turned white with the effort. “Can I forgive him for that?”

  The despair in her eyes made him hurt for her, and he shivered in apprehension for the future he’d recognized he wanted with Emily. Every hour that passed made him doubt it would ever happen.

  “Did he say anything after the accident?”

  “Not that I remember, but the whole thing is still bits and pieces. Flashes of a red and green tattoo, the bloody blue blanket, a hooded man. It’s all mixed up in my head.”

  “That’s why you wanted to
see Ghost’s tattoo.” The request made sense now.

  “I thought it might jog my memory. Perry agreed.”

  “It’s all coming back to Perry,” Mitch mused as he aligned the papers side by side.

  “He was a good man,” Emily said. “In spite of his mistakes.”

  Mitch smiled at her. “That’s what I lo…like about you. No matter how much evidence you see, you still have faith.”

  Had he almost said love? Oh, God. He couldn’t feel that way. Not with his deception still between them. He cleared his throat and leaned down to focus on the papers. “Besides the phone number, he has some notes. Too bad they’re so random.”

  “I guess it was just too much to hope that we’d get an address for Joshua,” Emily sighed.

  “Well, well, well.” Mitch looked at the circled words. Tattoo—not Ghost. Florida.

  “Wait a minute,” Emily muttered. She ran from the table into the bedroom and came back with Perry’s box. She dug into it and pulled out a slip of paper. “Perry followed someone down to Florida.”

  Mitch turned one of the sheets over. “Here’s something else. Florida. Airline. December. One year ago.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “Is Joshua in Florida? Did Perry know where Joshua was and not tell me?” She rose from the table and started pacing. “I know he wasn’t perfect, but he knew what that information would mean to me.”

  “Maybe that’s why he wanted to be sure.”

  Mitch couldn’t believe he’d defended the less-than-stellar PI, but he understood the man’s desire to protect Emily from any more disappointments. Mitch scanned the next spattering of notes. “Cop. On the payroll. Without more, that’s no help.” He flipped the paper over. “Marie.”

  Emily peered at the notes. “What? A cop named Marie?”

  “Marie is a midwife. And, according to Perry, a murder witness.”

  Emily pulled the phone from her pocket. “Do you think Marie is the woman who called?”

  “There are no other names on this sheet of paper. And Perry’s death made the news.”

  “She knew Perry.”

  “And she’s probably helping deliver young girls’ babies,” Mitch said, his voice grim. “Perhaps she knows where Kayla is.”