“I disagree, Your Honor. Showing Miss Price’s ability and intent to leave the country is incredibly relevant to this case.”
“Overruled. Answer the question, Miss Price.”
Jason kept his eyes on Rachel’s.
“Yes. Jason and I are lovers.”
“And you work for him?”
“I am an employee of Fairchild Charters.”
“Mr. Fairchild is a pilot, is that right?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Has he flown you anywhere?”
Rachel’s eyes started to lose focus. “Yes.”
“Would you say he has the freedom and ability to fly anywhere in the world at a moment’s notice?”
Rachel took her eyes off Jason and stared at Yanez. “He owns a company that charters private jets, of course he has them at his disposal.”
“And with you as his girlfriend, they are at yours as well, isn’t that right?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not like that.”
“What is it like, Miss Price?”
“I would never ask Jason to fly me anywhere.”
“But you could.”
“Objection. Does counsel have a question?”
“Sustained. Ask a question, Mr. Yanez.”
“Did you fly a lot before moving to New York?”
“No.”
“And Owen, has he been on many planes?”
“No. We drove to New York with the move.”
“How is it, then, that you both have passports?”
The direction Yanez was going became apparent. “We got them before Emily died.”
“So you could leave the country if the Colemans sought custody?”
“No. It wasn’t like that.”
“Why would you need a passport, if not to leave the country?”
Rachel sat forward. “Emily thought there might be a treatment for her overseas. She made sure Owen had his passport in case a cure was found.”
“That’s convenient, since Emily isn’t here to tell us otherwise.”
Rachel winced.
“Objection!”
Jason wanted to object with his fist.
“Mr. Yanez, skip the comments and ask the questions,” the judge warned.
“Miss Price, do you like the Colemans?”
Her gaze moved to the couple. “No. I don’t.”
“How do you propose to ‘foster a relationship’ with them for Owen’s sake when you don’t care for them?”
“The same way I tolerate my Uncle Barry. We don’t have to like our family to be around them.”
Some spectators chuckled.
“You said you believed Owen should know his biological family.”
“I did.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
She was torn, Jason could see it in her eyes. “Not at the risk of Owen’s safety.”
“Have Mr. and Mrs. Coleman raised a hand to Owen?”
“No.”
“Have they threatened him?”
“No. Not that I know of,” she said.
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do to keep Owen safe?” Mr. Yanez asked.
“No.”
“Would you take a bullet for him?”
“Yes. I love him as if he were my own son.”
Mr. Yanez smiled as if he’d caught her. Jason felt the rabbit hole closing in. “Would you leave the country in order to keep Owen safe?”
Her breathing became a staccato that the entire courtroom heard.
“Objection, Your Honor. Leading the witness.”
“Sustained.”
Mr. Yanez held up his hand. “One more question, Your Honor.” He removed the paper with Owen’s signature on it and held it in front of Rachel. “This isn’t your signature?”
“No.”
“This is your address, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Whose signature is it?”
She blinked, twice. “I’m not sure.”
“Really? Look again. That signature isn’t familiar at all?”
Rachel looked Jason’s way again.
Without words, he tried to tell her everything would work out.
She studied the paper again. “It could be Owen’s.”
Deyadria pounded the table with her hand and said, “Ha.”
The people in the courtroom watching and waiting for their turn started to talk among themselves.
“Could be? Or is? You’ve known Owen since he was five, helped in his primary school classroom. Don’t you know his handwriting?”
She looked at Yanez. “It is his.”
The lawyer smiled. “Thank you, Miss Price.”
Rachel sat through closing arguments in a haze. Mr. Yanez painted her as a woman who purposely fostered a relationship with a man capable of taking her anywhere in the world and as a significant flight risk. He argued that she knew about the court order and ignored it. He asked that the court give the Colemans time to locate their son and bring him back before granting her permanent guardianship back.
Clive ended with a plea that the judge recognize the love between Rachel and Owen and the proof of her intentions of doing the right thing by moving there and opening up their lives to the Colemans. He requested the court grant her full guardianship.
Now they all sat in the courtroom while the judge retired to her chambers to review the case.
“Any word on Owen?”
“Nothing.” Jason looked at the screen on his phone.
“It’s going to be dark soon.”
“We’ll find him.”
“You sound so confident.”
“Owen’s a smart kid. He isn’t sitting out in the cold.”
She hoped Jason was right.
The bailiff called the room to order and Rachel turned to face the judge.
“Be seated,” she told them.
“I’ve looked at all the evidence and the statements given by the social workers assigned to this case. Most of the time I can find a clear right or a clear wrong that helps my decision. This isn’t the case here,” Judge Sherman said.
“Mr. and Mrs. Coleman. You have not shown clear and convincing evidence that Miss Price is unfit as a guardian for your grandson. However, there is still some question as to the state of her home, and the court has no choice but to wait for more information. I’m putting in my order that as soon as Owen Moreau is found, he see a doctor for a physical to rule out any toxicity in regards to Miss Price’s home. It is evident your son, TJ, knew of Owen and did not step into the role of father. For reasons unknown. But as Miss Price has pointed out, it is only fair Owen be given the opportunity to know his family . . . all of you. That is going to be a bumpy road, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman, as it seems Owen’s trust in you has already been broken.”
Deyadria opened her mouth, and Yanez hushed her.
“Miss Price. It is overwhelmingly evident that you will do anything for Owen. I am the mother of two, and I know I would do anything, and I do mean anything, to keep my children safe. Because I know that in my heart, I have no choice but to assume you would as well. I look at this signature card and can’t help but wonder if Owen saw and disregarded the paper. I question if you saw it. There really is no evidence outside of the fact the order did indeed end up in your home on . . .” She looked at the paper. “December twenty-seventh of last year. It is clear that you believe the Colemans are a threat. From Owen’s words on his video, he feels they are, too. And keeping him from that threat may very well mean leaving the country to do so.”
Oh, God. She is going to take him away.
“However, you took him away and brought him back, which points to you telling the truth about not seeing the court order. You don’t strike me as an unintelligent woman.”
Please, please . . .
“So this is what I’m going to do. Much as I’d love to put this matter to rest today, I cannot. I request Miss Price and Owen Moreau surrender their passports until a final ruling can be made. I want to rev
isit this matter once all the reports on Miss Price’s home are completed, Owen is found and can be questioned, and more importantly, Tereck Coleman Junior, otherwise known as TJ, can be brought in to testify. You see, I do believe a son deserves to know his father. That said, I’m not going to give TJ an unlimited time to make his intentions known. If TJ has any intention of taking custody, temporary or jointly, he will need to report to this court in three weeks. In the meantime, Owen Moreau will be considered a ward of the court and placed in the care of Miss Price. I will not mandate any visitation by the Colemans at this time.”
Sparks of joy exploded in Rachel’s chest.
“I will encourage Miss Price and the Colemans to come to some peace, for Owen’s sake.”
“But we’re his family,” Deyadria pleaded.
Judge Sherman focused on her. “That is where you’re wrong. DNA does not dictate family. Both of my children are adopted. One from Vietnam, the other from South Africa. Love dictates family. So, out of the mouths of babes . . . when the adults can ‘start acting like adults’ again, this matter can be solved. This case is to be brought back to me three weeks from today.”
She dropped the gavel, and Rachel turned and threw her arms around Jason.
For the next two days, Jason’s home became a field office in their search for Owen.
A map of the city and the trains leading into and out of it that Owen could have taken were drawn out. The shelters had red dots on them, those that had been contacted and/or visited had green dots.
“The problem is, Owen doesn’t want to be found,” Nathan told Jason and Glen. “If the lad knows he can come home, he will probably just show up.”
Ford and Lionel returned from their local search. “We looked at all our hangouts. No one has seen him.”
“I can’t help but think he isn’t in the city,” Nathan said.
“Why?” Glen asked.
“Because that would be foolish! There’s half a foot of snow on the ground.”
Jason looked at the vaulted ceiling of his childhood home, and his brain started to itch. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Glen paused, his pen midair, en route to mark off something on the map.
“This place is Narnia. We got lost in it. Hide-and-go-seek.”
Glen caught on and looked around them. “No way.”
“It’s a big place.” And hadn’t they sat around that very room, talking about not finding each other as children?
Jason called everyone into the room.
“You seriously think Owen is hiding here?” Rachel asked.
“We haven’t looked, have we?”
“That would be crazy,” Ford said.
“That would be smart.”
For the first time in three days, Rachel had hope in her eyes. They’d been searching on adrenaline and coffee without any sign of Owen.
Jason assigned everyone a section of the house, placed Nathan and Owen’s friends on the outside buildings.
He guided Rachel up, into the attic, where his childhood sat in dusty boxes.
The house was suddenly filled with everyone calling out Owen’s name.
“Owen?” Rachel called to the vast attic.
Jason found a switch and turned on a long string of fluorescent lights. The entire space lit up like it was noon instead of nine o’clock at night.
“Wow, this space is huge. I could get lost in here.”
“Or you could hide in here.” He looked around and started walking toward the east end of the house. “Owen?”
“Hey,” Rachel said, catching his attention. “The dust is a mess over here.”
Jason looked and patted her on the back. “We had some of the Christmas decorations up here.”
Her shoulders folded in disappointment.
“Owen?” she called out. “The court said you can come back home with me.”
Silence.
They ducked behind every box, looked in every corner. Dusty and more than a little cold, they exhausted the attic search and moved down one floor. Each room and every closet was poked into and overturned. When Jason and Rachel would meet up with another group, they’d take another direction. Finally they all ended up back in the living room.
“Nothing,” Trent reported.
Jason looked out the window. “Okay, bundle up.”
Their barns and loft were empty, the tack room and storage rooms showed nothing. Rachel checked each stall. Because the space was enclosed and heated, it would make sense for Owen to hang out there.
He wasn’t there.
The report from the hangar was the same.
They searched Nathan’s house, and the housekeeper’s. A separate guesthouse on the far side of the lake was empty and cold.
It was close to midnight by the time they suspended their search.
Rachel held her head in her hands. “Damn it. I thought you were onto something.”
Jason did, too. “Tomorrow we put a billboard in the middle of town and another one at his school. I’ll have our team work on getting one to place over the side of our high-rise, letting Owen know he can come home.”
“We’re going to go,” Ford told them.
“Thanks, guys,” Rachel said, opening her arms to hug them. “If you hear anything.”
“We know.”
Glen approached them. “Mary and I are going to bunk here.”
“Of course,” Jason said.
“We’re headed out. The dogs are probably eating the furniture,” Trent said as he helped Monica with her coat.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Monica said.
The room emptied out.
“I should probably go home,” Rachel said quietly. “In case Owen shows up there.”
“Okay. Let me grab a few things.”
She stopped him before he turned to head up to his bedroom.
“You don’t have to come.”
He gave his best you’ve got to be kidding me look. “I’m not leaving you alone until we find him. And even then, there’s a pretty big chance I won’t leave you alone. I’ll go pack some things.”
She followed him to his room and filled the suitcase she’d brought over a few days before.
Jason filled a small duffel bag with a few essentials.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rachel looking through some papers.
“What’s that?” he asked, closing the door to his closet.
“My bills. I’ll be shocked if the electricity is still on when I get home. I’ve ignored all this since right after Christmas.” She kept scanning each envelope, then gasped.
“What?”
She dropped the stack onto the bed and waved one of the envelopes in her hand. “Here it is.”
He stopped what he was doing and moved to her side. “Here what is?”
“The court order.”
The unopened envelope stared at them.
“Ten bucks says Owen signed for it, tossed it in the stack, and forgot all about it,” Jason said.
“I’d bet a hundred.”
He turned back to his bag and placed the strap over his shoulder before grabbing hers. “Let’s go.”
Jason stepped out of Rachel’s room after taking a shower and found her sitting on Owen’s bed. They were going on four days without a sign from him. Jason was fairly certain Rachel had lost five pounds in that time.
“Hey.” She tried to smile when she saw him watching her.
“You okay?”
“I think I’m numb.”
“You’re tired and underfed.”
She patted the side of the bed, and he happily sat beside her. “When I decided to give us a shot, I never saw any of this.”
He smiled. “You mean when I wore you down and you realized there was no resisting my charm?”
He missed her smile. “I thought our biggest challenge would be work. Never in a million years did I think you’d be pulled into a custody debate with the Colemans or that we’d be keeping our eyes open with toothpicks, searchi
ng for Owen.”
“Life has a way of throwing curveballs. The fact we can’t quite predict everything makes life interesting.”
“Makes it crazy.”
“Maybe. But I like it. I didn’t see you coming, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he told her.
She melted. “You always know the perfect things to say.”
“It’s easy when you’re telling the truth.”
“See, perfect.” Her smile reached her eyes, and Jason leaned in to seal his words with a kiss.
She released a small moan and leaned into his arms. With her leading the way, he deepened his kiss and hoped she wouldn’t pull away. While they had been sleeping in the same bed since Costa Rica, they hadn’t made love for days. He missed her soft and pliant in his arms. He missed the way she was touching him right then, her hands on his chest, her legs crawling into his lap.
His body forgot the fact they were sitting on Owen’s bed, or that he was still missing. From the way Rachel was searching for his tonsils with the tip of her tongue, she’d forgotten, too.
He didn’t resist when she pushed him on his back and pressed her hips against his. With both hands, he held her against him, his erection searching for a break in their clothing.
Her breath caught, and she rode against him, finding pleasure without him being inside of her. If she kept doing it for long, he’d lose it in his pants, and he hadn’t done that since high school.
“Yes,” she whispered in his ear, her hips moving faster.
He thought of cold water, icebergs . . . anything to keep his erection.
With a quick shift of her hips, she moved in the opposite direction and moaned long and deep in his ear.
His cock twitched in anger at being denied release when she stopped stimulating him.
She started laughing with her head buried in his shoulder. “I think I just violated you.”
“Violate me anytime you want, hon.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “This should not have happened in Owen’s room.”
“We still have our clothes on.”
“I came.”
“Two seconds more and I would have, too.”
She smiled and he noticed guilt set in. “This is bad. Owen is missing and I’m . . .”
“You’re stressed. You needed relief. Don’t kick yourself.” He wanted relief, too. But he wasn’t going to pressure her.
Not Quite Crazy Page 27
