Deceived (Private Justice Book #3): A Novel (28 page)

As Diane showed her ID to the woman behind the desk at STL Academy and signed out for Todd, she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “No. He cut his arm on a saw and had to get some stitches, but the doctor’s fixing him up right now. As soon as we get to my car, I’ll call his cell and let you talk to him. How does that sound?”

Todd clutched his daypack and stared up at her, eyes wide as he gave a silent nod.

The poor kid was scared out of his mind.

But if everything that PI and Kate had told her was true, the little guy was in for a lot more upheaval.

Life stunk sometimes—even for innocent kids.

The woman behind the counter pulled out a booster seat and handed it over. “You or Mr. Sanders can return this tomorrow or the next day.”

“Thanks.”

Juggling the seat, Diane took Todd’s hand as they walked toward the parking lot. “Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see. Why don’t we stop on the way to your house and get a soda? Would you like that?”

“Dad never lets me have soda before dinner.”

“I think we can make an exception this once.” She opened the back door, secured the booster seat, and helped Todd buckle up. Then she circled the car, slid behind the wheel, and pulled her cell out of her purse.

Greg answered on the second ring. “Did the daycare place give you any trouble?”

“No. Your call to them smoothed the way. How’s it going with you?”

“The urgent care center is a zoo. This must be the day for accidents. I’m estimating another hour at least, maybe more. Sorry to inconvenience you.”

“No problem. Todd would like to talk to you.”

“I want to talk to him too. Sorry again to put you out. I’ll be home as fast as I can.”

“Don’t rush on my account. Todd and I will keep each other entertained.” She handed the phone over the seat. “Here you go.”

As she backed out of the parking space and headed toward Greg’s house, she listened in on the one-sided conversation.

“Are you hurt real bad, Dad?”

Pause.

“No. She was waiting for me. They even let us borrow a car seat.”

More silence.

“Yeah! That will be twice this week! And Diane said we might stop for a soda on the way home too. Can I have soda and a sundae on the same night?”

Another pause.

“I love you too, Dad. Bye.”

Diane’s throat tightened. Their mutual affection was so endearing . . . yet she had only to recall Kate’s tearful comments yesterday about hearing her absent son call to her in the night to know she was doing the right thing. And she’d see it through. This was one thing in her life she wasn’t going to mess up.

Spotting a 7-Eleven, she spoke over her shoulder. “What kind of soda would you like?”

“Can I have a Mountain Dew?”

“Sure.” She swung into the lot and found a spot near the door, eyeing the counter and the soda dispenser beyond it. She could see the car from the store; no need to take Todd in with her. “I’m going to run in real fast. Can you wait here for me?”

“Yeah. I’ll look at the book about dinosaurs I borrowed from the library at daycare.”

“Great idea.”

Exiting the car, she locked the doors and hurried inside. No one was in line, and in less than three minutes she was back with two sodas, a pack of bubble gum tucked in her purse.

“Here you go.” She stuck a straw in Todd’s cup and handed it over the seat, then put her own Diet Coke in the holder beside her. “So tell me all the fun things that happened today—and the stuff you’ve learned about dinosaurs.”

He was off and running as she drove to Greg’s house, chattering away as she fed him questions. By the time she pulled up in front of the bungalow, the sodas were gone and Todd’s worry about Greg seemed to have been assuaged.

“Your dad said you know about a key that’s hidden behind the bush next to the front door?”

“Yeah.” Todd released his seat belt and pushed the curbside door open as she set the brake. “I’ll get it.”

Daypack thumping against his back, he dashed toward the bush and dived underneath as she pulled the borrowed booster seat out of the car.

“Here it is!” He held aloft a small ziplock bag, waving it triumphantly—and reminding her of the real motivation behind her good Samaritan deed.

Once in the house, Diane disposed of the soda cups, set her
purse on the table, and pulled out the pack of gum. “Would you like a piece?”

Todd gave it a covetous look. “Dad doesn’t let me chew gum very much.”

“I have a feeling he wouldn’t mind today.” She unwrapped a piece and held out another for him.

“I guess I could have one piece.”

As he undid the wrapping, she sat at the kitchen table, working the gum with her teeth. “Do you know how to blow bubbles?”

“Not very well.”

“I used to be able to do this. Let’s see how much I remember.”

As he watched, she positioned the gum with her tongue and managed to blow a midsized bubble.

“Wow. That was real good.” Todd’s expression was tinged with awe.

“You try.”

His inaugural effort produced a small bubble.

“Not bad.” She coached him through a few more attempts. “You’re doing great. I’ll tell you what . . . why don’t we have a contest for the biggest bubble?”

“I’ll lose.”

“You never know.” She stood and took his hand, leading him toward the mirror in the guest bath. “When my friend and I had contests, one of us had to stand on a chair, but since I’m taller, this will work.” She positioned him in front of her and bent down until she was just above his head. “Now we can watch ourselves and each other and judge who has the biggest bubble. Ready . . . set . . . go!”

Her bubble came out fast and large, as she’d hoped . . . and she lowered her chin as it popped, one scant edge collapsing on his hair.

“Whoops!” She straightened up as Todd kept blowing, making an impressive-sized bubble.

A moment later, his burst too.

“I think you won.” She smiled at him in the mirror.

“I don’t know. Yours was bigger . . . but it broke faster. I guess it was a tie.”

“Excellent call. Now let’s see if I can separate my gum from your hair. Why don’t you go get your comb for me?”

As he took off down the hall, she returned to the kitchen, feeling in the pocket of her skirt to verify the small pair of scissors and ziplock bag she’d slipped inside. Still there.

“Here it is.” Todd waved the comb as he skidded to a stop beside her.

“Turn around and let’s have a look.”

As he complied, she surveyed the damage. Not bad. Her aim had been spot on. Combing through the fine strands, she was able to remove the evidence of their contest. But she pretended to work on a nonexistent tangle.

“There’s just one spot here . . .” She gave it a slight tug. “Gum and hair don’t mix very well.” Fingering the hair with one hand, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the scissors. “I might have to snip this out.” She cut off a tiny clump close to his scalp and slid her hand back into her pocket, aiming for the bag.

Done.

Taking a deep breath, she fiddled around with his hair for another fifteen seconds before handing over the comb. “Good as new. While you put this away, I’ll see what’s in your fridge and get dinner started. After that, why don’t we build that skyscraper with your erector set?”

“Awesome!”

As he disappeared through the door, she sealed the ziplock bag and stowed it and the scissors in her purse.

Then she did a long, slow scan of the kitchen where she’d enjoyed such happy times with Greg and Todd. Where she’d hoped to enjoy many more.

But if the hair sample she passed on to Connor proved Todd belonged with Kate—and that Greg had never been the man she’d thought he was—the future she’d allowed herself to dream of would end up being nothing more than a sham and an illusion.

Just as her marriage to Rich had been.

Except this time she was going to be the victor, not the victim.

Straightening her shoulders, she crossed to the refrigerator. No matter how this ended, she was going to be okay—even if the worst happened, and the loving father and considerate suitor she’d come to know and care about turned out to be a cold-blooded killer and kidnapper.

A shiver rippled through her that had nothing to do with the blast of cold air emitted by the freezer.

It was hard to believe Greg could be capable of those heinous things—yet all the evidence added up. And she should count her blessings she’d learned of his dark side sooner rather than later, leaving her free to walk out of his world in an hour or two and never look back.

Kate, however, wasn’t so fortunate. She couldn’t walk away, not with her son’s future hanging in the balance. And now that Greg knew about the photo, he had to suspect Kate was trying to track him down. Could that put the woman who’d befriended her in danger?

As another shudder swept through her, she grabbed a pack of ground beef and slammed the door shut. She didn’t need to add worries about Kate’s safety to all her other problems. If there was any threat, Kate had that smart, handsome PI watching her back. A guy who’d protected world leaders—maybe even the president himself—wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. She’d be fine.

Wouldn’t she?

F
rom the depths of her purse, Kate’s cell rang as she maneuvered through the door of her condo with an armload of shopping bags.

After dumping everything on the kitchen table, she fished it out and greeted her favorite PI.

“Hi yourself.” The warmth in Connor’s response sent a little tingle through her. “How’d you sleep?”

“I’ve had more restful nights.” She pulled the box of cherry popsicles from the grocery bag and slid them into the freezer. “How about you?”

“I’ll plead the fifth. What did you do on your day off?”

She surveyed the results of her whirlwind shopping expedition. “Let’s just say I’ve been busy.”

“That’s not what days off are supposed to be all about.”

“Busy is better than pacing around my condo battling the urge to knock down Sanders’s door and snatch my son. Besides, I had a lot of errands to run. The lab was first on my list.”

“I know. They called to tell me both tests were already in process. I wanted to let you know I’ve alerted an acquaintance at the local FBI office to expect a case in the next few days.”

She sank into a chair, fingering the package of baseball-
themed sheets she’d purchased for the twin bed that would soon occupy her unfurnished spare bedroom. “How much did you tell him?”

“Everything.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’d bone up on the official background and put everything in place for a fast response once they have proof in hand.”

“He doesn’t think we’re crazy?”

“Far from it. Nick’s handled an odd case or two in his day—including one that involved a Raggedy Ann doll and the woman who’s now his wife. That’s why I called him specifically. He’ll be ready to move the instant I bring him the results of the DNA test.”

“What do we do in the meantime?”

“Wait—and watch.”

She blew out a breath. “That is a really, really hard assignment.”

“I know. Just keep hanging in. We’re in the final inning.”

She clenched the baseball-themed sheet. “Did Sanders go to work today?”

“No, but he did take Todd to daycare.”

“So what’s he up to?”

“According to Cal, who’s tailing him at the moment, not much. He stopped at Home Depot, gassed up his car, paid a quick visit to his bank. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Do you think he knows we’ve identified him?”

“Hard to say. But he has to be worried about it.”

“What if he runs?” The last word hitched.

So much for her attempt to sound composed.

“We’ve got it covered, Kate. Try not to worry. We’re on his tail 24/7. And if he heads for an airport, Nick’s prepared to muster FBI resources to keep him in sight at his destination until we can get there. That’s why I wanted him in the loop ASAP. Agents don’t come any sharper than Nick Bradley.”

In the background, another male voice spoke, the words indistinguishable. Connor responded with an “I’ll be right there,” then returned to their conversation. “I need to run. We’ve got a conference call on a hot job that’s coming up. I’ll be in touch at least once a day with updates, but feel free to call if you need anything in between.”

“Thanks—for everything.”

“My pleasure. Take care.”

The phone went dead, and Kate tucked it back into her purse as she scanned the pile of bags on the table, most of which contained decorating items that would turn her empty bedroom into a welcoming, baseball-themed haven for her son.

But did he like baseball as much as he had three years ago, when the two men in her life had spent many a Sunday afternoon on the sofa, rooting for their team? Three years was an eternity in a little child’s life. What did she know of the boy he’d become? Of his favorite color and favorite food, the books he liked, the hobbies and sports he enjoyed?

He was a stranger to her in so many ways—and she to him.

Fighting back a sudden wave of panic, she ascended the stairs and wandered down the hall to the empty room she’d originally planned to make an office. Strange how she’d ended up gravitating to the kitchen table for work instead. Almost as if she’d known this space was destined for some other purpose.

She stopped on the threshold, imagining how all the things she’d purchased would look once they were in place. The Cardinals-themed bedspread and matching curtains. A baseball-shaped lamp. Three throw pillows in bright red. The team’s most recent World Series poster.

Perhaps she’d been foolish, buying things she didn’t even know if Kevin would like. But if he didn’t, she’d return them and redo the room to suit the tastes of the little boy he’d become.

Leaning a shoulder against the wall, she folded her arms tightly against her chest, drew an unsteady breath—and imagined.

Kevin, back in her home.

Kevin, back in her arms.

Kevin, alive not just in her heart but in the flesh.

All thanks to a chance encounter on an escalator.

Coincidence is a small miracle in which
God chooses to remain anonymous.

Connor’s words echoed in her mind, ringing with truth.

Except if Kevin was restored to her, the miracle wasn’t small. It was huge—and God’s hand was all over it. He’d graced her with compassion the day she’d agreed to run an errand for her neighbor in the mall, despite her busy schedule. He’d timed her exit so she’d caught a glimpse of the son she’d thought long dead. And he’d led her to the perfect man to help her sort out the mystery—a competent, professional PI with a boatload of integrity . . . and charm.

A man who also appeared to be destined to play more than a professional role in her future.

God was, indeed, good.

But much as he’d done for her up to this point, she needed him now more than ever for the daunting challenge ahead—earning back the love of the son who’d stolen her heart in the maternity ward when he’d locked those big blue eyes on hers and grasped her index finger with a grip so strong even the nurse couldn’t pry it loose.

Closing her eyes, Kate took a shaky breath and sent a silent prayer heavenward for strength, courage, and wisdom to deal with the challenges she and Kevin would face once they were together again.

Assuming, of course, there were no glitches on the way to their reunion. Connor seemed confident a positive end was near,
however. That it was just a matter of waiting for the test results and keeping Sanders in their sights. She was the one who was antsy. Anxious. Impatient. Worried.

But she needed to do her best to chill. To put her trust in the PI who’d earned it—and in God.

Besides, after coming this far and getting this close, what could possibly go wrong?

“Haircut time, champ. We can’t have you starting school looking like a shaggy dog.” Greg waved the scissors at his son from the kitchen doorway.

“Aw, Dad, do I have to?” Todd sent him a pained look from the living room floor, where he was engrossed in building an airplane with Diane’s erector set.

“I know it’s not your favorite Sunday afternoon activity, but you’re overdue.”

“You never cut my hair this often in Montana.”

“That’s because we lived in the mountains and didn’t see a lot of other people.”

Todd rose slowly, dragging his feet as he walked toward the kitchen. “Sometimes I wish we’d stayed there.”

That made two of them.

“Well, we’re here now. And it will be good for you to make a whole bunch of new friends in first grade.” That was still the plan—unless Kate Marshall botched it up for them.

He tightened his grip on the scissors and gritted his teeth. After all these years, who could have guessed danger would be lurking on an escalator in a new town from a woman he’d never expected to see again?

The whole thing was surreal.

Unfortunately, it was also very real.

“I wish you could just teach me stuff, like you used to in
Montana.” Todd climbed onto the two phone books piled on the kitchen chair and sighed.

“I have a job away from the house now.” Forcing thoughts of Kate from his mind, he draped a towel around Todd’s shoulders and began trimming the fine hair that reminded him of David’s. Sometimes, the tactile sensation was so similar he could almost pretend his first son was still with him.

“Didn’t you like taking care of Mr. Lodge’s ranch?”

“Yeah. I liked it a lot. It was a beautiful place. But I like construction too—and I wanted you to go to a bigger school. Learn from teachers who know a whole lot more than me.” As he snipped, a few matted strands near Todd’s ear caught his attention. He tried without success to comb through them, then looked closer. “You’ve got some snarled-up hair back here. Did you get glue in it at school?”

“That must be from the bubble gum. Diane gave me a piece the day she picked me up from school, when you hurt your arm.”

He poked at the tangled hair. “But how did it get on the back of your head?”

“We had a bubble-blowing contest. Hers was a really big one, but it broke and some of it got in my hair. She had to cut a little out in the back. Can you tell?”

Frowning, Greg leaned closer to scrutinize his son’s scalp. In the end, he located the small section where the hair was cut close to the scalp more by the bristly feel than by sight. “Yeah, I found it.” But he wouldn’t have if Todd hadn’t mentioned it.

Why hadn’t Diane brought it up?

Then again, there hadn’t been much opportunity. After telling him burgers were in the broiler and offering him an indifferent thank-you for the flowers he’d sent, she’d hotfooted it out of the house as fast as she could, stopping only long enough to give Todd a fierce hug.

The kind of hug you’d give someone you didn’t expect to see again for a long time, now that he thought about it.

All at once, fear congealed in his belly, and a wave of nausea rolled through him.

Something was up.

“Dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you done cutting my hair?”

He refocused. “Almost.” He lifted the scissors, the slight tremble in his fingers mirroring the quiver in his stomach.

It was possible the gum incident was innocent . . . but his instincts said otherwise. Diane liked Kate Marshall. Kate was searching for her son—most likely with professional help—and Diane knew the picture the woman had was a dead ringer for Todd. Miffed as she’d been with him, might she have told them about Todd, offered to assist them in establishing a concrete connection? With all the testing labs could do today, a hair sample would be devastating.

“Todd . . . what did Diane do with the hair she cut off?” He moved in front of his son to trim his bangs, doing his best to keep his tone casual.

The boy shrugged. “I dunno. I guess she threw it away.”

Easy to confirm. He’d taken a bag of trash out to the can in the carport Wednesday night. If there was a matted clump of hair and gum in there, it should be near the top.

He finished up the bangs and pulled the towel from around Todd’s shoulders. “All done.”

“Finally. Can I go finish building my plane now?”

“Sure.”

The boy scampered off.

After sweeping up the hair on the kitchen floor and depositing it in the trash can beside the cabinet, Greg went out to the carport. Only one small plastic bag was in the metal trash can,
and he pulled it out—along with some newspapers from the recycle bin.

Once back inside, he crossed to the door on the side of the kitchen. “I’ll be in the basement for a few minutes, Todd.”

“Okay.” The boy’s distracted voice floated back to him.

Ten minutes later, after a painstaking search through the trash he’d spread out on the newspapers, beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.

No blond hair.

Diane hadn’t thrown it away.

He muttered a curse and began to pace.

There was a small chance—very small—she’d disposed of it some other way. But based on the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, the explanation wasn’t that simple.

And if she’d given Kate Marshall and her cohorts a sample, he had just one option.

Run.

Fast.

Meaning he needed those documents from Emilio’s contact.

Now.

The man had promised to have them in his hands by Tuesday—but would that be soon enough?

Still . . . what choice did he have? Without ID, he’d get nowhere.

He’d have to wait.

At least he could make optimal use of the time, firm up the plan he’d begun formulating in case things went south. It was a solid plan, simple and straightforward. And it would work.

Favoring the arm sporting a dozen stitches, he began gathering up the garbage he’d strewn about the floor as he mentally walked through the steps he’d take.

First, rent a car, using his real ID. Tell the clerk he needed it for two weeks, to buy him some breathing space to disappear before the rental people missed it.

Second, pack up the camping gear he’d used after he’d driven away from Braddock Bay with Todd asleep in the backseat. Camping had been an inspired idea; by the time they’d spent three months at a variety of state parks before continuing on to Montana, his son had stopped crying for his mother at night and begun to respond to the care he’d lavished on him. They wouldn’t need nearly that long now, however. Ten days, max, to let Todd get comfortable with his new identity. Michigan would be a perfect spot for that. There were plenty of places to camp there.