Finding Her Son

by Robin Perini

  Mitch didn’t dwell on the implications. He slid into the pickup just as an SUV pulled into the driveway.

  His brother Chase and sister, Sierra, jumped out, their faces tense and furious.

  Mitch met them on the lawn. “Did Noah call you?”

  “Our brother is an idiot,” Chase said, darkly.

  “And you just learned this?” Mitch said.

  Sierra shook her head. “I should’ve known something was up when his techy gadgets started getting cooler than mine. Is he okay? Really?”

  “He’s fine. We’re the ones who need an adjustment.” Mitch said. “Go talk to him. You may learn more than you bargain for. I’ve gotta run.”

  Sierra placed a hand on his arm. “You’re not hurt again, are you?”

  He kissed her cheek. “Not in the way you’re thinking, little sister.”

  His brother gave him a speculative glance, but Mitch shook his head. They could talk later. Maybe. Chase had his own demons to battle.

  As his brother and sister strode up the sidewalk, Mitch got back into the truck and stared at the tracking device. Emily had made it to Sister Kate’s and she wasn’t moving. He gunned the accelerator and headed toward the police station. This next hour wouldn’t be pretty.

  THE DENVER POLICE DEPARTMENT—a place Mitch had called home for a lot of years—didn’t feel welcoming right now. He stood and faced his boss. Tanner’s face had gone red.

  “You might want to calm down, boss. You’re going to pop a vein.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “That we have a mole in this office, and I didn’t know who to trust. I couldn’t risk Emily’s life or losing her son’s trail. Not for anyone or anything.”

  “I thought we had an understanding.” Tanner paced up and down his office. “You made me believe you trusted me, Mitch. And you go off and put yourself and Emily at risk. On a hunch after I told you not to leave town, much less the state of Colorado. You should know better.”

  “We might’ve found her son. I couldn’t risk the opportunity slipping away.”

  His boss thrust his fingers through his short, cropped hair. “Serves me right for giving such an important case to a damn short-timer.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean we all know you’re going to quit when you can’t make the physical for SWAT. I’ve seen your file, Bradford. You can’t cut it. But nobody’s brave enough to tell you to your face.”

  “You don’t know that. With Emily’s help, my leg’s improving. I could make it back.” Even to Mitch’s ears the words sounded hollow.

  “You sure that’s the kind of help you’re getting? She’s your assignment, not your toy.”

  Mitch grabbed Tanner by the collar. “Shut up.”

  The detective gripped Mitch’s wrists. “Back off. Or I will take you down. No matter how sympathetic I am to your reasons. I want you on desk duty until I decide if I have a use for you. Got it?”

  “I’m not leaving Emily stranded. Perry Young may have been a drunk and a gambler, but he was right. This thing is big, and it’s ugly.”

  “Fine,” Dane said. “I’ll put someone else on it. But you’re benched. Starting now.”

  He’d expected the action and didn’t know whether to feel anger or relief. “Then I’m taking sick leave.” He spun around and opened the door.

  “You don’t have any left,” his boss called after him.

  “Then it’s leave without pay. Either way, I’m off duty.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alone, Emily stretched out on the twin bed in the small room in Sister Kate’s shelter, her bag at her side. She pulled out the photo of Joshua and traced the image with her finger. She’d been so close—in her own imagination. Never in reality. “Have I lost you?”

  A soft knock sounded on her door. Emily’s hand found the cold steel of the weapon in her bag. “Come in.”

  Heather peeked around the door. “I heard you were back.”

  Emily motioned the girl in and studied her face. “The bruises have faded a bit.”

  Heather touched her cheekbones. “I decided not to go back to him.”

  “I’m glad,” Emily said, tucking Joshua’s photo under her pillow. “You deserve better. We all deserve someone in our life who puts us before themselves.”

  “I’m finally starting to believe that,” Heather said, tugging at her maternity top. “Sister Kate introduced me to the agency you told me about. They said they can find a good home for my baby.”

  “What do you think?”

  “That I don’t have a job, and my family can’t help me. That I can’t take care of my baby.” Tears slid down Heather’s cheeks. “I think I have to give her up. Does that make me a bad person?”

  Emily stood and wrapped her arms around the girl. “I think it makes you a mother who loves her child more than herself. It makes you a hero.”

  “I want my baby to be with a family who will love her, but I need to be sure.” Heather wiped her eyes. “Snake is going to be really mad.”

  “Snake?” Emily covered her mouth. “Your boyfriend is really named Snake?”

  “Y-yes.” Laughter filtered through the room. “Some guy was willing to pay twenty-five thousand dollars if our baby was born with blond hair. Can you believe that? Snake made a deal with the guy. Snake would do anything for that kind of money.” Heather caressed her abdomen. “Even sell his daughter.”

  Emily’s hand stilled on Heather’s back. She met the girl’s teary gaze. “I need to talk to your boyfriend. Would you be willing to call Snake for me? Lie to him?”

  Heather paused, uncertain. “Would I have to see him?”

  “No, but I need to know who’s involved in taking these babies, Heather. Your boyfriend could be the key to finding my little boy.”

  “You’ve been so nice to me, Mrs. W. I’ll call him.”

  “Get your phone while I write down what I want you to say.”

  Emily’s pulse pounded, a flicker of hope reigniting. She could create an imaginary Scandinavian husband who wanted a blond-haired girl who looked like him. The adoption agency might very well contact Snake. It was worth a shot. Emily looked down at her clothes. No way would this sell her as a wealthy want-to-be mother. She’d have to go back to the house. Find something appropriate.

  Within a half hour Emily had absconded with Sister Kate’s keys. The nun had argued with her, but Emily had assured her she’d be right back. She struggled to find the gear on the ancient Impala and headed toward home.

  As she reached the curve, she sucked in a deep breath. Eric’s cross was still bare. “What did you know, Eric? What didn’t you tell me?”

  The memorial had no answers, and neither did she. Emily pulled down the street and studied the house she and Eric had bought together. Yellow crime-scene tape blocked the door, but that wouldn’t stop her. Her key slipped easily into the lock, and she pushed into her home.

  “I knew you’d come back eventually.”

  Emily froze. Ghost rose from the sofa. A line of opened wine bottles, crackers, cheese and trash littered the coffee table.

  She clutched her bag closer, taking comfort in the heavy metal inside. “You’ve made yourself at home,” she said, her words coming out slowly, feeling her way for the weapon. Just a few more seconds.

  “Unfinished business,” he said with an arrogant grin.

  “We certainly have that.” Emily pulled out the Glock and held it on the man who had come to symbolize her search for her son.

  Ghost paused and then smiled, his glittering teeth giving her a glimpse of how he must’ve charmed all those young girls to give their babies away.

  “Who’s your contact?” she asked. “Where do you take those girls?”

  “I have a lot of contacts, Mrs. Wentworth. A certain police officer you know very well, for example.”

  She shook her head. “Mitch would never—”

  “Interesting.” He continued to grin. “You assumed I meant your lover. I c
ould’ve meant his boss, or a beat cop who roams around the neighborhood. You can never tell the good guys from the bad guys these days.”

  “I know which one you are,” Emily said, disgust lacing her tone. “You take advantage of those teenagers.”

  “They’re sluts. They get what they want. Money and no kid to take care of. I’m providing a valuable service.” Ghost grabbed one of the wine bottles that Eric had taken so much pride in collecting and tipped it back. “You want your son?”

  Emily nodded her head, her hand still steady on the weapon.

  “You’d do anything, wouldn’t you?” Ghost muttered with a smirk.

  “Yes.” She swallowed back the eagerness and tried to remain calm. She could do this. For Joshua’s sake.

  “Then come with me. Come with me, and I’ll show you where your son is.”

  He could be lying, but she’d believed from the beginning that Ghost could lead her to Joshua.

  “I keep my weapon.”

  Ghost took another step forward. “I don’t think so.” He smiled and kicked the coffee table aside. “You don’t have the guts to shoot me.”

  With a howl, he launched his body at her, arms outstretched.

  Emily squeezed the trigger.

  MITCH STARED IN DISBELIEF at the tracking map. Sister Kate had promised to keep an eye on her. Why had Emily gone back to her house? He gunned the accelerator forward just as the radio he’d pilfered from the police department squawked to life.

  “Report of shots fired…”

  When the dispatcher quoted Emily’s address, Mitch cursed and floored the gas pedal. She could be injured. Or worse. If anything happened to Emily…

  He couldn’t bear the thought. It would be his fault. He should’ve locked her up to keep her safe even if she hated him for it. At least he’d know she was okay.

  Sirens wailed behind him as he flew up the mountainside, but he didn’t care. Let them arrest him…once he knew Emily was okay.

  He focused on navigating the sharp turns, nearly running into an old, junky Impala trundling down the hill, until a loud beeping sounded at his side. He glanced at the tracking system. Emily was on the move again. And she’d just passed him.

  His gaze hit his rearview mirror. He could barely make out the taillights of the Impala rounding a curve when his phone rang. Mitch punched the speakerphone as he searched for a place to make a U-turn on the mountain road.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Tanner barked. “I’ve got officers in pursuit of Noah’s car, with you at the wheel, I presume, and shots at Emily Wentworth’s home address. You are so fired.”

  “Fine. Fire me. Emily was at the house. Now she’s headed back down the mountain. Or at least her phone is.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The cell has a tracking device planted in it,” Mitch muttered.

  “You keep after the signal. If Emily’s in the car, we want to know. We’ll check out the house. I’ll get back to you. But, Bradford, we are having a long conversation before you’re back in my unit.”

  “Dane.” Mitch had to trust his instincts again. “Work with Lieutenant Decker to pick your team. I trust him. No one else.”

  “Will do, Mitch. I’ll keep in touch.”

  Mitch dropped his phone on the seat. For ten minutes he tracked the Impala but couldn’t quite catch up. Whoever drove it knew downtown Denver like the back of their hand.

  Finally, the phone rang.

  “Bradford.”

  “Emily’s not here,” Tanner said quietly.

  The hesitation in the man’s voice made Mitch’s gut churn. “But…”

  “The house is pretty trashed. There’s blood spatter in the living room. Someone’s hurt.”

  Mitch gripped the steering wheel and glanced at his side. “According to my tracker, the car’s stopped.”

  “Where are you? I’ve got the lieutenant and his team on standby.”

  “Coming up on Fifth and Colfax.” He caught sight of the car, and two figures disappearing into an abandoned apartment building, one slight, with a sway of hips he recognized all too well. Thank God. His heart started beating again for the first time since he’d heard the notification of shots. “I see her. With a big guy in a trench coat. Might be Ghost. They went into that old apartment building on Sixth.”

  “I know it. I’ll get the team there. Wait for us, Mitch.”

  “As long as I can.”

  He stabbed the off button. Without any intel, he had no idea what he was walking into. All he knew was Emily was trapped inside.

  He flipped his collar up and walked down the street, passing the Impala. Streaks of red smeared the front seat.

  Blood.

  GHOST SHOVED THE GUN into Emily’s side and she staggered through the door of the decrepit apartment building. All but one of the windows were boarded shut. The place looked abandoned.

  “Get me upstairs to the first room on the left,” he rasped. “Don’t talk to anyone or you and them are dead.” They trudged up, and Emily studied the layout and each young girl’s face she met as they climbed the stairs and entered the room.

  A square-jawed man with a military haircut stomped into the room behind them. “What the hell happened to you? And what’s she doing here? Are you crazy?”

  “Sit down and shut up, Vance,” Ghost said as he flopped back on the bed.

  He pulled away the bloody hand from his side. “Witch shot me, but I got her here. Get me some disinfectant and some bandages, will you?”

  “You need the doc?”

  “Nah. She grazed my side. Some butterflies’ll hold me for now.” Ghost propped himself up against the back of the bed, still aiming the Glock he’d wrestled away from Emily. “Once we find out what she knows, we’ll take care of her. I have to waste that kid, Ricky, too. He’s still poking around.” He glared at Vance. “You should’ve taken him out—”

  “Shut up,” Vance said.

  As he handed Ghost the medical supplies, Emily caught sight of a badge hanging out of his pocket. He was the cop.

  “I had a bigger target. That warning shot should’ve shut her up.” He glared at Emily. “Doesn’t matter now. Once our problem upstairs is taken care of, Ricky won’t make trouble anymore. If he does, he and his grandmother will let a cop into the house. No one will care if an old lady and kid bite the dust. I’ll plant drugs or something.”

  His calculated plan made Emily shiver. She’d thought maybe she could reason with one of them. This cop had gone all the way bad.

  “We’ll make it two for one, today,” Vance added. “Keep our exposure to a minimum.”

  “Not a bad idea. How long ’til she pops?”

  “A few hours. Maybe less. Boss doesn’t want it done here, though. The last one pushed Marie over the edge. The idiot stole my data on my guest—” he nodded toward Emily “—and went to that drunk PI. Nearly blew everything. Doc doesn’t want any more screwups. We kill them off site.”

  The man said the words as if taking someone’s life was business as usual. A strange calmness came over Emily. She had the next few hours to find a way out. And, if nothing else, to come up with a way to get a message to Mitch. Despite everything, Emily recognized he would keep searching for Joshua, even if she were gone. She needed more information.

  “You told me you’d tell me where my son is,” she blurted.

  “I lied,” Ghost said. “We didn’t take your damn kid, but you ask too many questions. You should’ve left it alone. Snake and Heather’s baby was worth half a million bucks. Both blond-haired and blue-eyed. That’s why we paid him to get her pregnant. Then you had to go and ruin the deal.”

  Emily’s head spun. They didn’t know where Joshua was. She didn’t understand. “But Perry—”

  “Young?” Vance laughed. “That fool stumbled onto the operation. That’s why I had to take him out. He knew too much.”

  This couldn’t be happening. She had to get away. To find Joshua and to warn Heather. Emily squirmed in her chair and wra
pped her coat tighter around her, then shoved her hands in the pockets. Her fingers hit the metal of her cell phone. She clutched it, and her gaze flew to the men. If they would just leave her alone, she could call Mitch or 911. He’d find her. He’d save her.

  She could count on him.

  The truth filled Emily’s heart with awe. She could count on Mitch Bradford. He’d lied, but he wouldn’t let her down. She moved her fingers over the on button.

  “Hey, there. What’re you doing?” Vance grabbed Emily and yanked her to her feet. “You search her?” he asked Ghost.

  “She shot me. I got the gun. Exactly when—”

  “Idiot.” Vance tugged her coat off and patted her down.

  Emily shivered as his hands lingered over her breasts. He squeezed them and then pushed her down in the chair. Maybe he wouldn’t look in the pocket.

  He grabbed the coat and snagged the cell phone. “Fool.” Vance pressed a couple of buttons. “No calls for the past half hour. You dodged a bullet, dude. The doc would’ve had me kill you, too, if she’d led the cops here.”

  Vance dropped her phone on the floor and rammed the heel of his boot into it, smashing the small device, then tossed it into a sink and ran water over it. “No cavalry.”

  His satisfied smile squeezed out most of Emily’s hope. She’d put herself in this position, and now Joshua would never know that his mother had loved him very much.

  Ghost finished applying several butterfly strips and pulled down his bloody sweater. “That’ll do me. I’m changing, and then I gotta dump the car. Take care of her.”

  He pushed up his sleeves, and Emily saw the red-and-green devil tattoo. Her head ached, her mind whirled. It wasn’t right. Something was missing.

  Oh, God. Ghost wasn’t the man from that night. Perry had been right.

  “She’ll be fine in here,” Vance said. “One less room to wipe down for trace evidence.”

  They closed her in, and the sound of the door bolting sealed Emily’s fate. Once the poor girl’s baby was born, both of them were dead. Mitch didn’t know about Ghost or Vance. Unless Emily found a way out.