Her Stolen Son

by Rita Herron

  Rice was already miles and hours ahead of them. By now, he could have long left Savannah and be God knows where.

  The hour layover in Atlanta gave them just enough time to hit a coffee shop and wolf down a muffin. Serena stared out the window as another plane coasted down the runway. “Petey must be so scared,” she said in a pained voice. “Where do you think Rice is taking him?”

  Colt didn’t want to speculate. Any ideas he had would only magnify Serena’s fears. “Maybe this witness can give us a lead.”

  The flight attendant announced they were ready to board, so they tossed their trash into the bin, then headed to the gate. A strained silence fell over them as they claimed their seats and the plane departed.

  Two rows in front of them, a woman with three boys tried to corral their boisterous behavior while the lady in the seat across from them cradled a baby girl to her chest.

  Colt saw Serena watching them with envy and the affectionate look of a mother who understood the problems associated with children, but one who adored them anyway.

  “Sometimes we take our families for granted until they’re gone,” she said softly.

  “I doubt you ever took Petey for granted, Serena. You’re a wonderful mother.”

  “But I didn’t keep him safe, did it? I was foolish enough to believe Lyle Rice wasn’t dangerous when he was only using me.”

  Colt frowned and slid his arm around her. “Unfortunately we can do everything possible to protect our children, but it’s not always enough. Bad things just happen.”

  “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

  Colt chewed the inside of his cheek. He rarely talked about his past, but he decided to share now. Anything to help assuage her guilt.

  “My younger brother was killed when he was twelve,” he said. “I was home watching him, and let him have a friend over.”

  “What happened?” Serena asked.

  Colt swallowed, the memory so fresh and raw it was as if it happened yesterday, not fifteen years ago.

  “His friend snuck in a gun. His dad’s .45. I was on the phone when I heard the shot go off.”

  Sympathy mingled with horror on Serena’s face. “Oh, my God.”

  Sweat broke out on Colt’s neck. “I ran in and tried to save him, but he died in my arms.”

  “I’m so sorry, Colt,” Serena said. “That’s so sad.”

  Colt nodded, the old familiar guilt raging through him. “It tore my mother apart. We’d just lost my dad, and she counted on me, then I let her down.” He swallowed against the emotions in his throat. “And the other boy…he was so riddled with guilt he turned to drugs. Last I heard he’d been in and out of rehab.”

  Serena sighed. “I don’t think I could survive if we don’t find Petey.”

  Colt pulled her closer to him, and she buried her head against his shoulder. She was stronger than she thought, but he was determined she wouldn’t have to face life without her son.

  Still, he understood her fear.

  His brother’s death was the sole reason he’d specialized in guns and worked to clean up the streets. But each time he’d put one away, another cropped up.

  Serena’s husband must have felt the same way about drugs.

  But then he’d stumbled onto a child kidnapping ring and now his own family was being destroyed because of it.

  Colt silently vowed to find Petey and abolish that ring so others like Petey wouldn’t suffer.

  Serena nestled against him, and he closed his eyes. For a brief moment he allowed himself to believe that once her son was home safe, and he disbanded this kidnapping ring, they might have a future together.

  But the sound of the engine rumbling jarred him back to reality. Serena and Petey were a family. He was not a part of it.

  His life revolved around work. Moving from one case to the next.

  The team at GAI was all the family he would ever have.

  SERENA STRUGGLED to remain positive as they departed the plane in Savannah and Colt rented a car. Derrick had texted him the address of the gas station where Petey and Rice had been spotted the night before.

  Colt plugged the address into the GPS monitor, exited the airport and made his way onto 95. Signs for hotels and tourist sights in Savannah sprang up. Billboards of carriage rides, ghost tours, restaurants, antebellum homes, shopping, voodoo shops and the riverfront looked inviting, but the idea of the cemetery tour unnerved her.

  “Why would he bring Petey here?” Serena asked.

  Colt shrugged, his face stony. “I don’t know. It may or may not be his intended destination.”

  Serena considered the airport, the islands off the coast, and the port, and fear seized her again. Rice was hours ahead of them. “Do you think Rice is planning to ship Petey away or sell him?”

  Colt scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Let’s not go there,” he said. “We have leads now. We’re closing in.”

  But Serena had seen the dregs of society. And if Rice didn’t plan to sell Petey, if he killed him, Rice could dump his body in the ocean, and they might never find him…

  Colt veered off the exit, sped down the ramp and turned right. The bright lights of a motel gleamed against the sky, blinking like cheap Christmas lights. Beside it stood the gas station.

  Colt swung the sedan into the parking lot, and they climbed out and went inside. Sunshine slanted rays across the asphalt, breaking through the clouds, and heating up the day. The scent of gasoline and oil hung in the air along with the aroma of French fries and burgers flowing from the attached fast food restaurant.

  A big black pot in a corner of the parking lot bubbled with steam, a hand-painted sign made of cardboard boasting boiled peanuts for sale. A small fruit and vegetable stand sat beside it, under the watchful eye of an ancient-looking woman with leathery skin wearing a bonnet selling apples, fresh tomatoes, green beans, squash and potatoes in small cardboard containers.

  “I’ll talk to the clerk inside. You want to ask the woman what she saw?” Colt suggested.

  Serena nodded, walked over to the vendor, introduced herself and showed her a picture of Petey. “Someone from this station phoned yesterday saying they spotted a man with my son.”

  The woman squinted up at her. “Yeah, I seen you on the news. Sorry about your boy.”

  “Did you see Rice and my son here?” Serena asked.

  The woman shook her head. “Afraid not. I took sick yesterday with my arthritis, and had to shut down the stand.”

  Disappointment ballooned in Serena’s chest. “Well, thanks anyway.”

  “I sure hope you find him,” the woman called.

  Serena nodded and crossed the parking lot to the store. When she entered, Colt was talking to a white-haired man behind the counter. She glanced around for other patrons, but the station was empty.

  “Yeah, I was the one who called that tip line,” the man said. “Man in that picture on the news, he was here all right.”

  Serena sucked in a sharp breath, then handed him her son’s photograph. “Was this little boy with him?”

  The man’s hands shook slightly as he took the picture and studied it. “Yeah, that was the boy. He had on a baseball hat, though, a little too big for him I thought, and held his head down low. At first, I didn’t think nothing of it. But the man kept a hand on his shoulder the whole time, kept him right up next to him.”

  “So he wouldn’t try to escape or ask for help,” Colt muttered.

  “Was he okay?” Serena asked. “He didn’t look hurt?”

  Sympathy flickered in the man’s eyes. “Didn’t see no bruises, if that’s what you mean. But…right before they left, the boy looked up at me. And I saw it in his eyes.”

  Serena’s heart pounded. “What did you see?”

  “The fear. Course I just figured he was scared of his old man, that he was in trouble for some reason.” The old man wheezed. “But this morning when I saw that news story and the picture of your boy and that criminal, that’s when I put two and t
wo together and called the tip line.”

  “We appreciate your help,” Colt said. “Did Rice say anything about where he might be going?”

  The old man shook his head. “Didn’t say much. Just paid for his gas, bought some burgers and fries, and left.”

  “What was he driving?” Colt asked.

  “A white van, you know one of them utility kind.”

  “Was there a logo on the side?”

  “No. Didn’t see the tag either.” He made a face. “Sorry.”

  Colt propped his hip against the counter. “Is there anything else you remember?”

  The man pulled his hand down his chin in thought, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah. He had a map of Florida he was looking at while the boy was in the john. Circled Miami with a red marker.”

  Serena’s lungs tightened. Miami. He was taking Petey farther and farther away from her.

  “Did you see which direction he went when he left?” Colt asked.

  “He drove over to that motel across the street.”

  Serena’s heart clamored. “Colt, maybe they’re still there.”

  Colt took her hand and they jogged to the car. Serena swallowed hard as they crossed the street.

  COLT FORCED HIMSELF to keep the panic off his face as he and Serena drove across the street to the hotel. If Rice was on his way to Miami and involved in a kidnapping ring, then Petey was in terrible danger. Putting Petey on a ship that sailed out of the country would make it almost impossible to track him down.

  Colt parked at the motel, swiping perspiration from his brow as he and Serena entered the front doors. The July heat had kicked in, temperature soaring, and it was muggy, mosquitoes buzzing through the air.

  A young African-American clerk with orange hair and a tattoo stood behind the reception desk. Her name tag read Shanika.

  Colt explained who they were and their reason for visiting.

  The clerk checked the register. “I’m sorry, sir, but no one by the name of Rice checked in last night.”

  Of course he wouldn’t use his real name. “He goes by various aliases. Let me look at the list.”

  “We can’t do that, sir. It’s against our policy.”

  “To hell with the policy,” Serena said sharply. “This maniac kidnapped my son and may have abducted other children. You have to help us.”

  A pudgy woman wearing a purple knit suit emerged from behind a closed door. “What’s going on here?”

  Shanika hitched her hip sideways. “These people want to look at the register.”

  Serena shoved the picture of Petey toward her. “This is my son. You’ve probably seen the news about his kidnapping.”

  The woman narrowed her eyes at the photo, then looked back up at Serena. “I saw the man but not the boy. He paid cash. Reeked of fast food and French fries.”

  Serena paled. “Petey wasn’t with him?”

  The woman shrugged. “Don’t know. He parked the van in front till he got his key, then drove around back to the room.”

  “Which room?” Colt asked.

  The woman pointed a finger at the register. “Three-eighteen. Specifically requested a room on the back side. Said he needed some sleep, didn’t want the sun waking him up.”

  “That was bull,” Colt said. “He didn’t want anyone to spot him carrying a kid inside.”

  Serena gripped the counter. “Is he still there?”

  “Left early this morning.” The woman turned to Shanika. “You find anything when you cleaned the room?”

  Shanika toyed with the gold loops in her ear. “I ain’t had time to clean it yet.”

  The woman glared at Shanika, but snatched the room key. “Come on. You can take a look.”

  Colt and Serena followed the manager outside and around the back to room 318. Colt scoured the parking lot for the white van, but it hadn’t returned. Not a good sign.

  The manager twisted the key and started to enter, but Colt signaled her to let him go first, so she stepped aside. The strong odor of cigarette smoke, burgers and French fries filled the room.

  He glanced at the beds. Both unmade.

  Relief surged through him. At least Rice hadn’t used Petey for himself. He glanced at Serena and saw her studying the room, as well.

  Colt searched the closet, then the dresser and trash, looking for anything that Rice might have left behind, hoping that he’d scribbled an address or left some indicator as to his plans.

  Serena had stepped inside the bathroom, then she gasped.

  His lungs constricted. Dear God, no.

  What if Rice had killed Petey and left his body behind?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Serena stared at the mirror, her heart thumping wildly with fear. The letters on the mirror, the writing, the childlike scrawl, the words…

  Help me.

  Was it written in blood?

  She trembled all over, knowing she needed to touch it to know, but denial forced her hands to her sides, and she began to pray with all her might, just as she’d prayed for help when she’d been stuck in those awful foster homes and lost on the streets herself.

  She’d never wanted Petey to suffer as she had.

  And now he was with some maniac who had evil purposes in mind. Had Petey fought him? Had he tried to escape and Rice punished him by hurting him?

  She lifted her finger to touch the message, but Colt rushed in and caught her hand. “Don’t touch it, Serena.”

  A sob caught in her throat. “But Petey wrote it and he’s scared, and it looks like he’s injured.”

  Colt inched closer to the mirror and examined the writing. He lifted one finger and dabbed the corner, careful not to damage the imprint, then sniffed it.

  A frown marred his face, then he shocked her by touching his finger to his mouth.

  “What are you doing?” Serena asked.

  Colt sighed. “It’s ketchup, Serena.” A small grin tugged at his mouth. “Petey wrote the message with ketchup.”

  Serena’s shoulders sagged in relief.

  “Everything all right in there?” the manager called.

  “Yes,” Colt said, then took Serena’s hand. “Let’s go. We have to catch a flight to Miami.”

  Colt thanked the manager then phoned GAI to fill them in as he drove toward the airport. Ben booked them a flight and another rental car to be picked up when they arrived in Miami.

  Serena’s cell phone jangled, and she dug it from her purse, praying it was Petey or Rice, but when she checked the number, it was Kay Krantz.

  She punched Connect, hoping the woman didn’t have more bad news. Like her bail had been revoked because she’d left the state.

  “Hello. This is Serena.”

  “Serena, it’s Kay Krantz. Listen, a bit of good news. I just met with the judge and the sheriff and in light of the forensics and the eyewitness claiming he saw Rice alive, they’ve dropped the charges against you. Congratulations. You’re a free woman.”

  Serena pressed her hand to her throat. Yes, getting the charges dropped was good news.

  But what did it matter if she was free if she didn’t find her son?

  BY THE TIME COLT and Serena landed in Miami, it was early evening. The sun was fading although the temperature had hit the hundred-plus mark, and the air felt stifling.

  Colt quickly commandeered the rental car, fatigue adding to his frustration. He was going on more than twenty-four hours without sleep, but he didn’t have time to stop and rest.

  Even with Rice driving and them taking flights, the creep could have dropped Petey with someone else and be headed to his own destination to hide out.

  His cell phone buzzed just as he and Serena pulled away from the airport. It was Ian Shaw from the Special Victims Unit. “Ian?”

  “Yeah. I got your message, and I’ve seen the reports on the missing boy. You think his disappearance is connected to a child kidnapping ring?”

  “It looks that way. The boy’s father was a cop who was killed working undercover. His CI claimed
he had a lead on a kidnapping ring. We think that’s what got him killed.”

  Ian made a sound of disgust in his throat. “And Lyle Rice is involved?”

  “Yes. Parker Stover arrested him, so I think he abducted Stover’s son for revenge.”

  “About Rice,” Ian said. “I recognized one of his old aliases. We have two missing child cases here in Raleigh. Both girls are age six, brown hair, brown eyes. The first girl is Kinsey Jones, the second Ellie Pinkerton. They were kidnapped within a few hours of each other, and both attended the same elementary school.”

  “When were they kidnapped?”

  “Ten days ago. Kinsey’s mother recognized Rice from one of the shots on the news. She’s a real-estate broker, said she showed him some property. He claimed he had children and wanted to see the elementary school, as well.”

  “He was casing her family and the school.”

  “It appears that way. If you find him, he might have both girls.”

  Dammit. “No telling how many kids are involved,” Colt said. “Email me the girls’ photos and information and I’ll keep you posted.”

  When Colt ended the call, he headed toward the local police department.

  “What was that about?” Serena asked.

  “My friend with the SVU in Raleigh. Two little girls were kidnapped there ten days ago. One of the mothers recognized Rice’s photo. He was casing the elementary school.”

  “So Petey wasn’t his only victim.” A shudder coursed through Serena. “How could someone steal innocent children and sell them like they’re property?”

  “He’s sick and depraved,” Colt said. “But he’s not going to get away with it, Serena.”

  She turned to look out the window, and Colt noted the swaying palm trees, the rippling tides of the ocean, and beach properties, a dramatic change from the mountains. Miami was a happening city, a virtual resort for families and young people who enjoyed the nightlife. Celebrities also flocked to the town for its beauty, private island resorts and recreational resources.