by EMILIE ROSE
The bald statement stole her breath and her strength. She sank back onto her seat. Then a confusing tangle of relief and loss engulfed her. Hannah would never have answers to the multitude of questions that had come up over the years. “How?”
“She was leaving town with her lover. A car crossed the center line and hit them head-on. She was probably killed on impact.”
She focused on the first part and rejected it. “I never saw signs of an affair.”
“She worked with the guy. He was a civilian contractor on base. Apparently, they held their assignations over their lunch hours. Sometimes meeting at your house. Sometimes his.”
Shock kept her mute. She sifted through her memories for any man who might have been a frequent visitor or one whose name her mother might have mentioned, but she came up with none. She made a “continue” movement with her hand.
“She was pregnant. When your father found out, he realized that because of the timing of his deployment, there was no way it was his. He ordered her to get out.”
The story was almost too much to comprehend. She didn’t want to believe it. “Dad told her to leave? Did he tell you that?”
“After I confronted him with the facts, yes.”
“Where did you get your facts?”
“I started with a news article about a vehicular fatality in a town near the base. It stated the man, a woman and her unborn child had been killed. Once I had that, I tracked down a coworker quoted in the article. She gave me the details. She also said the rumor mill had been active and she suspected your father knew about the affair. That’s when I called him. He verified that he’d heard the rumors while deployed, but had refused to believe what his friends were saying until your mother confirmed the information.”
“So that’s why he spied on us. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“You’ll have to ask him. But you should also know that he did tell me she’d insisted she was coming back for you as soon as she and her lover got situated, and he told her, quote, ‘Over his cold ashes,’ end quote.”
Her mother hadn’t abandoned her. And her father hadn’t been willing to let her go. She’d often wondered if he loved her or just kept her out of a sense of duty. He’d never been the demonstrative sort. She rolled the discoveries around in her head and tried to make sense of them. The knowledge changed her view on so many things. Maybe Rick and her children weren’t the only ones who loved her.
“Thank you for investigating and telling me. I don’t know how you uncovered all this when I did multiple internet searches and turned up nothing.”
“Digging up the hidden truth is what I do, and I’m used to searching for obscure details. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.” He reached out, as if to cover her hands, then stopped and sat back in his chair.
She was grateful for his restraint. As shaken as she was, and as much as she needed to be held, she had no idea how she’d handle his unsettling touch. The sympathy in his eyes tightened her chest with guilt, especially given what she was about to do.
“Would it have been better to learn she’d abandoned me without second thoughts?”
“Guess not.” He rose. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. It will take a while to...digest.”
“I’ll let you get to be—I’ll say good-night.”
To bed, is what he’d almost said, but hadn’t. Why did that hit her like a double espresso? She rose on shaky legs and walked him to the front door while she struggled to find the courage to say what would no doubt seem ungrateful under the circumstances.
“Brandon, thank you for tonight. I’ve never had a birthday party before.”
“Then it’s time you, Mason and Belle start some new traditions.”
He stood there in the foyer for an awkward moment. In the past, before Rick’s death, he’d have hugged her good-night. She’d been the one to stop that five years ago. And given her crazy reaction to his touch now, it wasn’t a practice she’d resume. She definitely would not be taking Lucy’s advice and “nabbing him.”
“Brandon... I think it would be best if you didn’t come around anymore.” A line formed between his eyebrows. She opened the door and when he didn’t take the hint to leave, she stepped onto the porch and waited for him to follow then closed the panel behind them.
“What about Mason?”
“He’s behaving now. Maybe he was only going through a phase.”
“And the note?”
“Maybe it wasn’t his.”
“That’s a lot of maybes, Hannah.”
“Belle already loves you. She keeps asking for you to be her daddy. Mason is getting attached. It’s going to hurt them when you disappear. Lingering will only make it worse.”
“Who says I’ll disappear?”
“Me. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I can’t forget...the past or how dangerous your job is.”
His jaw and shoulder muscles bunched. “I promised Rick I’d look out for you.”
“I’m relieving you of that promise.”
He inhaled, long and slow, filling his chest and making it seem even broader. Then he dipped his chin once, sharply. “Take care of yourself, Hannah.”
He pivoted and walked away. Seconds later his truck engine started. Tension drained from her, but it didn’t leave her feeling relaxed. It left her empty. Instead of watching his taillights, she walked back inside and locked the door. The engaging dead bolt sounded like a loud gunshot echoing off the foyer walls. Cutting Brandon from their lives was the right thing to do. For her sake and her children’s.
* * *
HANNAH WANTED HIM GONE.
Brandon climbed into his truck and drove through the darkness. He’d tried to fulfill his promise to Rick, but to do so he’d have to keep fighting Hannah. He already had a lot on his plate between work, his dad and his rental houses, and given the way his neglected hormones reacted to Hannah’s proximity, it was best for both of them if he cut a wide berth from Rick’s widow.
He should feel relieved to be released from the burden of watching over the Leith family. Instead, he was frustrated, irritated and, damn it, hollow. He worried about the kids. And he worried about Hannah.
She’d looked so shattered tonight when he’d told her that her mother was dead, he’d been compelled to take her into his arms. Thank God he’d nixed the gesture. It hadn’t been easy. But he couldn’t risk comfort turning to desire the way it had when they’d packed up Rick’s clothes. He’d almost kissed her. Right there in the bedroom she’d shared with her husband. His best friend. What kind of bastard did that make him?
He hadn’t intended to get attached to her or Mason or Belle. But how could he not? Hannah’s surprise and delight over the party had made everything that went into the event worth it. Mason’s excitement on being included in the plot had been a bonus. And it had taught Brandon just how adept the boy was with a computer. He’d scanned Belle’s drawing and created and sent the invitations—both online and via US Mail.
Mason was geeky enough to need someone to help him navigate the difficult teen years ahead. And the kid might be in serious trouble, no matter what Hannah thought. There was too much evidence to clear that possibility with wishful maybes.
When Belle had hugged him tonight and told him she loved him, he hadn’t responded. Not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because he’d been so choked up he hadn’t been able to. He’d felt as if he’d had a ten-ton hazmat truck parked on his heart with its bumper blocking his throat. She should be saying those words to her father. And she never would.
He turned into his driveway, killed the engine and sat in the dark cab. Hannah had asked him to leave her and her family alone. Again. Could he abide by her wishes and forget about her, Mason and Belle and his promise to Rick? No. Setbacks in investigations were commonplace, but they’d never stopped him from pursuing the desired outcome.
&nbs
p; He’d give Hannah some space. But she hadn’t seen the last of him. Whether she liked it or not.
* * *
HANNAH TURNED AWAY from the door.
“Why did you do that?” Mason bellowed from the upstairs landing.
Startled, Hannah looked up. Mason and Belle stood by the railing. Her son looked furious. Her daughter was crying.
“Why did I do what?” she asked, wondering exactly what they’d overheard.
“You told Brandon to stay away. He and I made a deal. And now you’ve screwed it up!”
“What kind of deal?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know.
“When I helped him with your birthday party he promised to teach me how to run the lawn mower so you won’t have to pay the yard guy anymore, and then this summer I can start earning money mowing grass. And he talked to Mrs. Cohen. She’s gonna let us borrow Rocky so we can both learn dog obedience. Rocky and me, I mean. Brandon already knows. Then I can make even more money walking the neighbors’ dogs or taking care of ’em when they’re on vacation. If I make enough money from my jobs then I want to get my own dog. But you’ve screwed up everything!”
Flabbergasted, she gaped at him. While part of her was proud of him for making a goal and plotting a way to achieve it, the other part was incensed that Brandon had made these plans without consulting her.
Mason working? While in theory it was a good idea, she wasn’t sure he was old enough for that much responsibility. Lawn mowers and strange dogs were dangerous.
“I think it’s great that you want to earn money and save it, but I never promised you could have a dog, Mason.”
“You never let me have anything. Maybe I ought to go to boarding school. It couldn’t be worse than here.”
The comment stole her breath. “You don’t mean that.”
“Brandon’s cool. He teaches me stuff. And he doesn’t treat me like a dumb kid. I like him. And he likes me.”
“I like him, too,” Belle whimpered with big, fat tears streaking down her cheeks. “I don’t want Uncle Brandon to go away.”
Hannah’s heart ached. She climbed the stairs. “Guys, Brandon has a very dangerous job. And—”
“Then shouldn’t we try to take extra special care of him?” Belle asked.
Out of the mouths of babes... Hannah stared at her son and daughter. Was she making a mistake? No. She was protecting her children. “There are grown-up things you’re not old enough to understand.”
“See! There you go again treating me like a baby. I hate you!” Mason shouted then stomped into his room and slammed the door.
Belle’s lips quivered. “I don’t hate you, Mommy, but I’m not very happy with you right now. You ruined your birthday day.”
Then she returned to her room and quietly shut the door. Hannah stared at the closed doors. She wanted to comfort her children, but she had no idea what to say.
What she’d feared had come to pass. But Brandon hadn’t broken her children’s hearts. She had.
Chapter Eleven
HANNAH LOWERED HER phone and tried to ward off panic Friday afternoon.
“Are you okay?” her coworker Seth asked.
“Mason didn’t get off the bus at after-school care.” It was nearly impossible to force the words through the terror constricting her throat.
“Have you called his school?”
“Yes. That was them just now. They said he was in his last class. They don’t know where he went after the final bell rang.”
“I’m done for the day. I can take your last client. Go look for Mason.”
“Thank you. I... I don’t even know where to start.”
“The police?”
She shook her head, fear curdling her stomach. What would the Leiths make of this? Would they try to use it against her as proof she couldn’t control her children?
“Not if I can avoid it. South Carolina has runaway laws. He’d end up in legal trouble.”
She’d looked that up after the first incident.
“Do you think he ran away?” Seth pressed.
“I hope not. But he’s...not happy with me right now.” Mason hadn’t forgiven her for sending Brandon away, but other than a slight coolness, he’d been behaving normally. He hadn’t taken anything to school with him other than his book bag today. Suddenly, Brandon’s chastisement haunted her. She hadn’t searched the contents. It still felt like an invasion of privacy. If she’d missed an important clue to his whereabouts, she had no one but herself to blame.
She brushed her hair back with a shaky hand. She hadn’t texted Brandon to tell him about the incident with Mason and Belle. The idea of calling him now made her insides jumpy, and inviting him back into their lives was the last thing she wanted to do. But who else could help her? No one. She was back where she’d started when she’d contacted him the first time.
“I’ll call Brandon.”
“The cop from the party? He seems like a nice guy. He’ll help. Go. I’ve got you covered. And if for some crazy reason Mason turns up here, I’ll call you.”
“Thanks.” Hannah grabbed her bag and raced out the door, dialing Brandon as she climbed into her car.
“Brandon Martin,” he answered.
The sound of his deep voice rumbled through her. “Mason didn’t get off the bus at after-school care. The school doesn’t know where he is, but he was in his last class. He may simply have missed the bus or...or something.”
“If he missed the bus wouldn’t he have gone to a teacher?”
She wished he wouldn’t be so calm and logical. “I guess. Should I file a report?”
“Let’s look for him first. I’m five minutes from the school. I’ll take the most likely route from there to your house and see if I spot him.”
“My office is near the after-school place. I’ll take the road from there to the school.”
“We’ll meet at your house.”
“If you get there before him or me, I keep a spare key in a pocket inside the red pillow on the swing.”
“Hannah, don’t panic. He’s been missing less than an hour. We’ll find him. Now hang up the phone and drive carefully.” He disconnected the call.
She headed straight to the after-school facility, but neither his teacher nor the administrator had seen him and had no clue where he might be. She raced back to her car and headed for the school, driving slowly and searching each road and between businesses. No sign of Mason. She regretted every lost opportunity to ask him about the note.
When she reached the school she drove around the building, hoping to see him hanging out with some of the students still waiting for their rides or staying for athletic practice. There were plenty of loitering kids, but none of them were hers and the ones she asked hadn’t seen Mason. Most didn’t even know who he was. She parked and went straight to the principal’s office. The woman was at the front desk talking to Mason’s homeroom teacher.
“Does he have a friend that he might have gone home with?” Hannah asked them.
The homeroom teacher shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Leith. I don’t know of anyone with whom Mason pals around. He’s a bit of a loner.”
Nauseated from nerves, she returned to her car and headed home. “Lord, you took Rick. Please don’t take Mason. Please, help me find him. And please, please let it just be that he missed the bus and was too embarrassed to ask a teacher to call me.”
But she knew deep in her heart that he hadn’t missed his ride. Something was troubling her son. Maybe he was angry with her for sending Brandon away. Or maybe the old problem was still a factor. As much as she wished otherwise, she would have to rely on Brandon once again.
* * *
WHEN BRANDON DIDN’T pass Mason on the road he headed to Hannah’s house, retrieved the hidden key and let himself in. He conducted a quick search of the residence, even checking t
he kitchen because that had always been the first place he’d headed after school as a kid. But he found no sign of Mason and no dirty dishes or crumbs to indicate that he’d been in for a snack.
On his way to the backyard Brandon passed the laptop on the coffee table and fingered the thumb drive in his pocket. He’d been carrying it since soon after Hannah had first contacted him. If he didn’t find Mason he would have to look for signs of foul play. And he’d start with that computer. He’d promised Hannah he wouldn’t install tracking software unless Mason was in danger. This qualified.
The yard and treehouse were empty. He scanned the area, searching for signs of disturbance. There were none. Had the kid gotten into a fight? Had overconfidence after one self-defense lesson led him to confront the bully? If there was one. Brandon mentally kicked himself for not stressing that the moves required enough practice to make them autonomic.
Was Mason hurt and lying somewhere? Or worse? Had he been kidnapped? Statistically, the latter was unlikely. Columbia, South Carolina, didn’t have much of that kind of crime. But Mason was into something. Most likely something online. And if the kid was involved in chatrooms or private networks, that upped the risk factor substantially.
Brandon’s job dealt with the sordid side of reality. He couldn’t prevent the routine checklist from clicking through his mind. Time was always a factor in a missing person case, and he tried to tell himself that was the only reason for the urgency pounding through him. But it was more than that. Mason was more than just another potential victim. He liked the kid. If this became a true investigation, then ethically he should recuse himself. He wasn’t sure he could do that.
He returned to the den, booted up the computer and installed the software. While it ran he scanned Mason’s visible documents and the computer’s hidden files. Nada. No emails. No chatrooms. No social media. The search history was as clean as before. He would have to take the laptop to the lab to run a deeper examination for erased data or dark web activity. He hoped like hell Mason hadn’t been lured into the invisible internet. The dark web was full of nothing but trouble.
Using his cell phone, he took a picture of the school photograph of Mason that Hannah kept on a table. Then he texted it to a few of his fellow officers with a message that it was an unofficial BOLO. Each texted back, promising to keep an eye out while on patrol.
