by Joanna Wayne
“Have you checked with his uncle to see if he was with him?”
“His uncle died in a snowmobile accident three years ago, just a year before Cornell’s father was killed while working on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico. My son has never fully gotten over those deaths.”
“That would be hard on anyone.” And it definitely gave Cornell a reason to be troubled. “How old was Cornell when you got divorced?”
“Ten. That’s when I met Joni. I needed some job skills, so I went back for an associate degree.”
Faith’s house phone rang. She gasped and grabbed her chest as she ran to answer it. Travis followed, listening in on the conversation until he was certain Cornell wasn’t the caller.
He went back to the boy’s room alone to continue the search. All he found was typical teenage stuff. A worn baseball glove. Video games. Old comic books. Some swimming trophies from when he was in grade school.
Nothing that provided even a hint or a clue of where Cornell might have gone or why. Travis had started to put them back in place when he noticed a smaller box pushed to the back of the shelf. He took it down, opened it and peered inside.
A porn magazine stared back at him. He lifted it to find eight more, all with pictures of naked women, nothing sadistic or particularly kinky.
All well hidden from his mother.
No surprise. Guys of eighteen seldom confided those kinds of thoughts and activities to their mothers. But if Travis and Faith were going to find Cornell, they would have to go into this with their eyes wide open.
He stuck his head out the bedroom door. “Faith, want to come in here a minute?”
She arrived a few seconds later, breathless from racing up the stairs. The look on her face was expectant, downright hopeful.
He hated that what he had to show her would replace it with a kick in the gut. He tried to think of something to make this easier on her, but he’d never been great at dancing around the truth.
He set the box on the table. “This might explain why Cornell was spotted at the Passion Pit.”
Faith pushed back the cover of the top magazine with one finger, as if was too disgusting to touch. Tough on a mother to find out her baby wasn’t one.
Travis’s cell phone vibrated. Caller ID indicated it was from the precinct. “I need to take this,” he said.
Faith nodded.
His focus quickly switched to the call and the information relayed to him by one of the younger officers recently appointed to serve under him in the homicide division.
The news was not good.
Chapter Four
Travis’s find made Faith sick to her stomach. She steadied herself against the bedpost while she tried to put the magazines into perspective.
So he wasn’t as innocent and naive as she’d believed. It was only natural he’d have the same physical urges as other boys his age. That still didn’t explain his disappearance.
Or the interrupted phone call. Or why he hadn’t called back.
But she hated that it had taken ten months to find out that her son had porn hidden in his room. That probably wouldn’t have helped her or the police find him. But what else had been going on in his life that she didn’t suspect?
Had he grown from a kid to a man without her realizing it? When had she lost touch with him?
Faith looked up, suddenly aware of the gravity in Travis’s low, deep-toned voice as he talked on the phone, and wondered if he was talking about Cornell or one of his homicide cases.
She studied the lines and planes of his profile. His face was tanned, his brows as dark as his hair, his face narrowing into a prominent chin and jawline.
He wasn’t pretty-boy handsome, but he was definitely the kind of man who’d stand out in a crowd. The archetype of strength and masculinity. His looks and manner instilled confidence. If anyone could find Cornell, it would be Travis Dalton.
Or was it her own desperation that made her read those qualities into him? If so, it was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make.
“Disturbing news?” she asked once he’d broken the connection and returned the phone to his pocket.
“Could have been better.”
“Does it have to do with Cornell?”
“Afraid so.”
A new wave of apprehension flooded though her. “Were they able to trace the call?”
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“We have a general location, but not a specific one.”
“But a general location is better than nothing,” she insisted. “It gives us an area to start searching for him.”
“A very large and undefined area. The call was made from Texas, somewhere near the Mexican border south of San Antonio. But the phone used to make the call was purchased in Mexico. That places Cornell either north or south of the border.”
“Doesn’t the phone-service company have an address for the subscriber?”
“It’s not registered to a subscriber.”
“So it’s like one of those phones you can buy at a convenience store with a certain number of minutes included.”
“Exactly.”
“So all we really know is that Cornell is somewhere near the Mexican border.” Terror rumbled inside her. The border towns were known for their violent drug cartels, especially on the Mexico side.
Murders had risen to the point that few Americans ventured into them. Most of the police were rumored to be corrupt or so afraid of the cartels they couldn’t do their job. She and Cornell had watched a special about that on TV just last year. He’d been disgusted with the whole idea of criminals running over honest citizens.
“Cornell would never have gone to Mexico on his own,” Faith said. She dropped to the side of the bed. “He’s been abducted, Travis. I’m more certain of that than ever now. I have to find him, even if it means going into Mexico.” Her voice rose with her growing hysteria.
Travis shoved the magazines aside, dropped to the bed beside her. “I know how frightened you are, Faith, but believe me, going down there won’t help, and it could put you in danger.”
“Then what will help, Travis? Sitting here doing nothing? Endless talking and promises from Mark Ethridge and now you? Waiting to hear that my son has been...”
A shudder ripped through her. Tears burned her eyes and then began to roll down her cheeks.
Travis snaked an arm around her shoulder. She started to push away from him, but the pain overpowered her stubbornness. Impulsively, she dropped her head to his shoulder and submitted to the ragged sobs.
Travis didn’t say a word until she’d cried herself out and pulled herself together. Even then, he didn’t move his arm from around her shoulder.
She pulled away. Talk. For ten months all the police had given her was talk. Why had she ever thought Travis would be different?
“I have connections in the towns on both sides of the border, Faith. Let me speak with them and put them on alert,” Travis pleaded. “They know how to handle this, who to talk to, where to look.”
“Then why haven’t the police already done that?”
“I’m sure they have, but I’ll put on the pressure. Give me forty-eight hours. If we don’t have a lead by then, I’ll make a trip to the area.”
Faith walked to the other side of the room before turning back to him. “Anything could happen in forty-eight hours.”
“Anything could have happened in the last ten months,” Travis said. “But you heard Cornell’s voice. You know he’s alive, and he didn’t actually tell you he was in danger when he called.”
“If he wasn’t being held against his will, he’d be home. I don’t know why I can’t make anyone understand that.”
“I’m trying, Faith. Believe me, I’m looking at this from all
angles. I’d like to take Cornell’s computer with me to see what additional information I can glean from it.”
“It’s a waste of time. Officer Ethridge and the private investigator I hired have both already checked the computer out and found nothing. Nothing suspicious on his email or any of his social-media pages. And nothing in the websites he’d visited offered so much as one decent lead.”
“I’d like to take that a step further,” Travis said. “The DPD has one of the best computer forensics experts in the country. He can discover ambient data that the average Joe has no idea exists on the hard drive. He’s found critical information to help me solve a murder case more times than I can count.”
“What kind of data do you expect to find?”
“It’s the unexpected that usually produces the best evidence. I’ll see if I can get a rush on this.”
Travis’s dedication seemed genuine, and if she could believe his rhetoric, he was ready to make finding Cornell a priority. But why? He was a homicide detective. This was way outside his line of duty.
“Why are you taking this on with such fervor, Travis? This isn’t your job. It isn’t you responsibility.”
“Let’s just say any friend of my new sister-in-law’s is a friend of mine. And from what I hear, you’re her best friend, practically family.”
“And from what I hear, you don’t even claim kin to your own father.”
“There is that,” Travis admitted. “So I guess we’ll have to go with that I’m one of the good guys.”
Strangely, she believed him. Yet she wasn’t convinced he understood the urgency. All her instincts stressed that the call from Cornell had been a sign that his fear was growing. He’d taken a risk to call her, and someone else had heard him on the phone. They were running out of time.
“You’ll let me know immediately if you hear anything at all?” she insisted as they went back downstairs.
“I promise. You do the same. If you hear from Cornell, call me at once.”
“I will, and I pray that’s tonight.”
“Keep that thought.” Travis stopped at the foot of the stairs. “I have a few more questions, but I need to get started with what I have, talk to my contacts, call in some favors.”
All things that should have been done months before. Instead, Cornell had simply fallen through the cracks. She really wanted to believe it would be different this time, that Travis was as good as his word.
But did she trust him enough to cancel her appointment with Georgio tomorrow? A man like that didn’t play by the rules, but he got things done. At least that was the impression she’d gotten anytime his name had come up while she was hanging out in his territory, searching for Cornell.
Travis stepped out the front door. Then, propping his hand against the doorframe, he leaned in close.
Awareness zinged through her. Her response to his nearness was unwelcome, almost frightening. She was thirty-five years old. She’d been married and divorced. Her son was missing and likely in danger. She didn’t fall for men she’d just met.
It was just that her nerves were so rattled her emotions couldn’t be trusted.
“Remember the ground rules,” he warned. “No putting yourself in danger. Leave the investigation up to me.”
“Then find my son.”
She took a backward step, willing her mind to focus only on Cornell. Still, as she watched Travis turn and saunter down the walk, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have his arms around her for something more than to offer comfort.
* * *
A DROP OF MAYONNAISE dripped from Faith’s cheese sandwich onto the granite countertop. Grabbing a napkin, she dabbed her mouth and then wiped up the spill. Eating dinner while standing at the counter had become a habit since Cornell’s disappearance, a way of avoiding the empty feeling of sitting at the table without him.
Faith took another bite of the tasteless sandwich and then crushed it into the napkin and tossed it into the trash. Before Cornell had gone missing, Sunday nights had been her favorite time of the week. She and Cornell had initiated it as family night right after the divorce, and with few exceptions, they always spent it together.
They’d order in a pepperoni pizza—Cornell’s favorite—and wash it down with icy glasses of root beer as they watched a movie in the family room. Most of the time Cornell picked the flick, so in recent years there had been no shortage of car chases, explosions, villains and heroes. Not Faith’s genre of choice, but relaxing with Cornell had been worth enduring the gore.
Her phone rang. Hope sent a jolt to her heart, making it bounce off the walls of her chest. She grabbed the phone.
“Hello.”
“Hi. It’s me, Joni.”
Faith swallowed the disappointment and tried to keep her tone light. “You’re on your honeymoon. What are you doing wasting your time calling me?”
“I just wanted to say thanks again for being my maid of honor last night.”
“You’re welcome. It was a beautiful wedding.”
“It was. I feel so lucky to be part of the Dalton clan. As soon as we get our house finished, you’ll have to come out and stay a few days.”
“Sure. I’d like that. But you didn’t have to call and tell me that from your honeymoon, not with that gorgeous hunk you’re married to.”
“Actually, that’s not the only reason I called. I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
“Why wouldn’t I...?” Her mind answered the question before she finished asking it. “You must have talked to Travis.”
“He called Leif. He said he was going to help you find Cornell.”
“Is that all he told him?”
“Is there more?”
Joni was already worried about her. There was no point in lying. “I had a phone call from Cornell this morning.”
“That’s great news. You must be so relieved to know he’s alive and safe.”
“I know he’s alive. I don’t’ know that he’s safe. If he wasn’t being held against his will, he wouldn’t have just called and said nothing. He’d be home.”
“Travis said you took the call as a cry for help.”
“How else can I take it? You know Cornell, Joni. You know how close we were.”
“I do know, Faith. That’s why I called. I was hoping to reassure you.”
“How can you, unless Travis told Leif something he hasn’t told me?”
“I only know what Leif told me. He said Travis is committed to finding Cornell. And according to Leif, once Travis makes up his mind to do something, you can consider it done. I thought it might help if you heard that.”
“Thanks.”
“So trust him, Faith. Get some sleep tonight and try not to worry.”
“I’ll try.”
Leif’s confidence in his brother was reassuring, but even as she finished the conversation with Joni and broke the connection, Faith knew she’d never have a moment’s peace until she was face-to-face with her missing son and could see that he was unharmed.
That was why at noon tomorrow, she’d make her way to the Passion Pit. She’d ignore Travis’s ground rules and keep her appointment with a mysterious man from the dangerous underbelly of the city.
She’d do whatever she had to do to find her son—inside or outside the law.
Chapter Five
Cornell turned the water as hot as it would go, picked up the bar of soap and rubbed his hands vigorously. Staring at the drain as the bubbles spun into the pipes, he felt the memories hit again.
The liquid instantly changed from clear to a bright crimson. His hands were sticky. His throat was so dry he couldn’t swallow. He took deep breaths, trying to keep from throwing up into the sink and having the vomit mix with the blood. Sickeningly, the way it had done that first morni
ng after the murder.
The room began to spin and he closed his eyes and clutched the edge of the stained sink to keep from falling. Finally, the horrifying sensations passed.
When Cornell opened his eyes again, it was only water spraying over his fingers to disappear down the drain. He turned off the faucet, grabbed the worn, faded towel and dried his hands.
“You okay?” Tom Snyder asked as Cornell walked out of the bathroom. “You’re not about to have one of those seizures, are you?”
He shrugged. “What if I do?”
“I don’t like ’em. They freak me out.”
“You don’t like them?” Cornell muttered a few curse words that he’d never have uttered around his mother. Not that he got any thrill out of cussing. When it was all you ever heard, it got to be habit. “What the hell do you think they do for me?”
“Obviously make you insane.”
“Well, they never did before. Anyway, I’m not having a seizure.”
“Good. But no more stupid stunts like calling your mother. Georgio would throw you to the wolves if he knew about that.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t make that mistake again.” But not for the reasons Tom was talking about. Hearing his mother’s voice had done strange things to Cornell’s thinking. Made him so homesick that it was all he could do not to cry. Made him ache to open up and tell his mother everything.
But what would that do except destroy her? She’d try to love him the way she always had, but how could she once she knew what he’d done? And in the end, there was nothing she could do to change any of it.
“Want to go out and get a margarita?” Tom asked. “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for another night. Might even get a little action, if you know what I mean.”
Cornell knew what he meant. “You go ahead. I think I’m going to hit the sack early tonight.”
“Man, if you get any more boring, even the cockroaches are going to quit hanging around.”
“I can live with that.”
“Suit yourself.”
Cornell could live without the cockroaches, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could live with Tom and having no control over his life. He couldn’t go home, but that didn’t mean he had to do slave duty for Georgio for the rest of his days.
