Her Stolen Son (6 page)

Colt's heart hammered in his chest. “Just look who the arresting officer was.”

“Parker Stover,” Ben said.

Colt whistled. “Looks like we just found our connection.”

 

“W
HAT IF THEY
don't let me out on bail?” Serena asked.

Kay Krantz pulled Serena's hands into hers, then rubbed them with her own to warm her icy fingers. “Don't worry. He'll release you. Do you have access to cash for bail?”

She remembered the money Colt had mentioned finding in her attic and cringed. That money was probably dirty, and she didn't want any part of it.

But she had her husband's life insurance policy. Of course, she'd socked it away into savings for Petey's college fund and hated to touch it. “Serena?”

“I could put up the house as collateral.” She took a deep breath. “I'd like to save my cash in case I need to pay a ransom.”

Kay nodded. “Right. I'll make that argument. We'll shoot for a low figure, but if we have to use the house, we'll do that.

“Colt called and explained about your son.” Kay's voice caught. “I'm so sorry, Serena. But I know the detectives at GAI, and they're top-notch. They won't give up until they find him.”

Serena nodded, her throat thick. She prayed he was alive when they did. She'd seen too many news stories to not imagine the worst.

Still, she had to remain positive. She had to do all
she could to find Petey. That meant being strong and helping Colt figure out who had abducted him.

Ten minutes later, they stood in the courtroom facing the judge. Serena felt like she was in a fog as the charges were read.

Kay requested bail be set at five thousand dollars, citing the fact that Serena worked in the community, had no passport, and that her son had been kidnapped.

“Sheriff?” the judge said, turning to Sheriff Gray.

“These are murder charges,” Sheriff Gray said. “We have no reason to believe that Ms. Stover won't flee the state.”

Kay cut him a stern look. “Give her a break, Sheriff. The woman's son is missing.”

Colt tapped Kay's arm, then leaned over and whispered something. Kay nodded, then cleared her throat. “To satisfy the court and Sheriff Gray,” she said, giving him a pointed look, “we'll agree that Ms. Stover be released into the custody of Colt Mason.”

Serena tensed, but the judge set the bail, then slammed down the gavel, and Kay pulled her into a hug. “You're free, Serena. Now we just have to find the real killer so you can remain that way.”

Before she realized what was happening, Colt had Serena's hand and tugged her toward the door. “Come on, Serena, we have to talk.”

“Did you find Petey?”

“No, not yet.” He shepherded her toward a parking lot adjacent to the courthouse, but suddenly the sound of gunshot rang out.

Serena screamed as Colt shoved her to the ground.

 

P
ETEY'S HEAD HURT
, and his throat ached. He opened his eyes, but it was so dark he couldn't see anything, and a rag was tied around his eyes.

Where was he?

He tried to move, but his hands were tied together, and so were his feet. The terrible day and night flashed through his head. First his mommy being torn away and taken to jail.

Then the kid jail. And then Ms. Bri's house.

He'd been upset when they got there, and he'd wanted his mommy, but the bed had been so soft, and he'd been so tired and Mr. Colt had told him he should be nice to Ms. Bri. Then Ms. Bri gave him one of Ryan's teddy bears and he'd hugged it and fallen asleep.

But he'd woked up and that man had been in the room….

He sniffled. He wasn't at Ms. Bri's anymore.

This place smelled stinky, like rotten fruit or like someone had peed inside.

An engine rumbled, and he realized he was in some kind of car or truck. Maybe a van. He had to get out!

He belly-crawled across the floor searching for a door. But he smashed into a hard metal wall.

He crawled the other way, but hit another wall.

Then the engine fired up, and the van started moving. No…

How would his mommy know where to find him if the mean man took him away?

Who the hell was shooting at them?

Colt covered Serena with his body, jerked his head up and scanned the parking lot and side of the building. Another bullet zipped by his shoulder, and he grabbed his Glock from inside his jacket.

“Serena, are you okay?”

“Yes. Who's shooting at us?”

“I can't see him, but he's in the alley.” He gripped her hand. “Come on, keep low and stay behind me.”

Shielding her again, he pulled her toward his SUV. Another bullet ripped past them and pinged his Range Rover. Suddenly guards from inside the courthouse raced outside, weapons drawn, searching the street.

He jerked his head, motioning toward the alley, but he heard footsteps, then spotted a man in dark clothing dart into a black sedan.

“Get in the SUV,” Colt shouted. “And lock the doors.” He threw her the keys, then chased after the shooter. A guard was on his tail, footsteps beating the asphalt behind him.

But the sedan sped down the alley toward the rear
exit. Colt fired, aiming for the tires, but the sedan was too fast and spun around the corner, disappearing from sight.

Colt paused at the corner, dragging in oxygen, and cursing beneath his breath.

The guard's breath rattled as he rushed up beside Colt. “Did you get a license?”

“No, no tag.”

The guard flipped the radio mic on his lapel and called for assistance. “Shooting at the courthouse. Shooter driving a black sedan headed east out of town. Armed and dangerous.”

“Did you get a description?” the guard asked Colt.

He wiped at the sweat rolling down his neck. “I didn't see his face, but he was big, stocky.” He pivoted, searching the street again. “Check for bullet casings. I'm going back to Ms. Stover.”

Leaving the guard to canvass the scene, he raced back down the alley to the parking lot. By the time he reached Serena, he was furious.

And even more certain that whoever had framed her and kidnapped her son had something to do with Rice's murder. And that it was connected to her husband and that money in the attic.

For the first time since the shot rang out, it occurred to him that there might have been a second gunman, and fear made his adrenaline kick in. He reached the SUV, and sighed in relief when he spotted Serena huddled low in the seat.

But when she looked up at him with those big, innocent, terrified eyes and he opened the door and found
her trembling, he couldn't help himself. He pulled her in his arms again, and held her tight.

 

S
ERENA FELL AGAINST
Colt, grateful at the moment to feel his protective arms around her. Colt slowly stroked her back, his own breathing choppy and broken.

“Did you catch him?” she whispered.

“No, but one of the guards called it in so the police are looking for his car now.”

“Who was he?” Serena said against his chest.

“I don't know yet, and I didn't see his face. But all of these things have to be connected.”

Serena inhaled his masculine scent and savored the potent feel of his muscular chest against her. She felt safe in her arms, and she hadn't felt safe with anyone in a long time.

Even those last few months with Parker, she'd known something had been wrong.

But the thought of getting close to anyone, especially a man, sent a frisson of fear through her. She couldn't get involved with Colt. He was a detective, only a fraction of a hair from being a cop himself.

And she'd sworn she'd never become entangled with another cop. Their job was too dangerous.

The very reason she'd thought Rice was safe. He was a businessman. Or so she'd thought.

What a horrible mistake.

The sheriff appeared from inside the courthouse, along with another guard. She saw Sheriff Gray jogging toward them, and forced herself to release her
grip on Colt. But she immediately missed the comfort of Colt's arms.

Colt straightened as the sheriff approached, then buzzed the window down.

“What happened?” the sheriff asked.

“Someone fired at us when we came outside. I chased him into the alley, but he jumped in a black sedan and sped away.”

“You two okay?”

Colt nodded, and Serena did the same, although anger was quickly replacing the fear that had seized her earlier. “What are you going to do about this, sheriff?” she asked. “So far, since you falsely arrested me for a crime I didn't commit, my child has been kidnapped, and now someone just tried to kill me. Do you still think I'm the bad guy?”

Sheriff Gray adjusted his sunglasses. “I don't know what's going on, Ms. Stover. But I intend to get to the truth.”

Serena started to speak up again, but Colt squeezed her arm, and she wrangled her fury into control.

“I'm driving Serena home,” Colt said. “Let me know if you track down the shooter, or come up with anything more on Rice's murder.”

“Listen, Colt,” Sheriff Gray said, his jaw tight. “I know you're investigating, as well, so keep me in the loop. If you interfere with the investigation, I'll bring you up on charges.”

“I don't intend to interfere,” Colt said harshly. “I intend to prove Ms. Stover is innocent and find her son and bring him back to her.”

Serena's heart clenched, but the sound of Colt's determined and confident declaration helped to assuage her worries.

Still, Petey was missing, and they had no idea who'd abducted him or what the kidnapper's intentions were.

 

O
N THE WAY
to Serena's house, Colt phoned Ben and explained about the shooting. “Will you email me those files you did with the facial recognition software? I want Serena to look at them.”

“Sure. Ben said the news story has been airing about Serena's arrest and Petey's kidnapping. We sent over photos of Rice, as well, and we've arranged for a tip hotline to come directly to us.”

Colt sighed. “Thanks.”

Ben hesitated. “The FBI will probably be showing up any minute.”

“If they help Petey, they're welcome to jump in,” Colt said. He turned onto Serena's street, and noted a media van parked outside. The beginning of the circus. “Dammit. The press is here.”

Ben grunted. “Might not hurt if the public sees the terrified grieving mother.”

Colt glanced at Serena. She had dark purple smudges beneath her eyes, her hair was tangled from their run-in with the shooter and she hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. Plus, she was still wearing the jeans and shirt she'd had on when the sheriff had dragged her from her house in handcuffs the morning before.

She looked too exhausted and emotionally wrung out to deal with the press.

“Oh, God,” Serena whispered. “They've probably plastered my face on the news and painted me as a murderer.”

Colt gripped her hand. “When we get out, don't say anything, Serena. You shouldn't talk about your arrest or the case without your attorney present.”

She squeezed his hand. “But I can ask everyone to look for my son, and I'm going to do that.”

Pasting on a brave face, she opened the door, climbed out and walked up the sidewalk to her front door. A young woman with short wavy brown hair and a red pantsuit approached Serena with a mic, a pudgy cameraman behind her.

“Ms. Stover, my name is Lydia Feldman and this is Renny Delaney.” She gestured toward the news van. “Is it true that you've been arrested for murdering a man named Lyle Rice?”

Colt rushed up beside Serena. “Ms. Stover is not at liberty to discuss the charges against her.”

Lydia arched a brow at him. “Are you her attorney?”

“No, I'm a detective with GAI, and I'm looking for her missing son.” He gave the woman a pointed look. “However, his kidnapping is a subject Ms. Stover would like to address.”

A flicker of irritation at deflecting the first question morphed to interest at the mention of the kidnapping. This woman knew the public was hungry to see details on the child abduction.

Lydia adopted an appropriately sympathetic smile. “Ms. Stover, can you tell us about your son's abduction?”

Serena straightened her shoulders. “Someone broke
into the home where my son was spending the night and stole him from bed, that's what happened.” Serena's face flushed with a mixture of emotions, and Colt stroked the small of her back, silently offering support.

“Have you received a ransom call or note?” Lydia asked.

Serena paled slightly. “No. Not yet. But I want whoever kidnapped my son to know that I will do anything, pay whatever you want, if you'll just bring Petey home safely.” Her voice broke. “He's just a little boy. Please don't hurt him. Just give him back to me….”

The reporter's eyes softened then flew back and forth between Serena and Colt. “Do you have any idea who's behind the kidnapping?”

Colt stepped up and addressed the mic. “Not yet, but we suspect that whoever kidnapped Petey is the same person who framed Ms. Stover for murder. GAI is asking anyone with information regarding Lyle Rice to please come forward. My office has faxed photographs of him and Petey to the media. Although beware, Lyle Rice has used several aliases before and changed his appearance. Any background information on him or who might be behind his murder could prove helpful.”

Serena reached for Lydia's arm and wiped at a tear. “And please, please, if you know anything about where my son is or who has him, call the police. I need him, and…” She paused to swallow back an onslaught of emotions. “He's only six years old. He needs his mother.”

Colt gestured to Lydia that the interview was over. After all, Serena had said everything there was to say, and she'd said it perfectly.

 

S
ERENA FELT DRAINED
as she entered her house. The sudden silence was a brutal reminder that her son was missing. There was no Petey running to greet her. No little feet stampeding across the floor. No laughter.

Only an empty hollow pit in her stomach and house and…her heart.

Her gaze swept the room. His cereal bowl still sat on the kitchen table, her coffee cup on the counter, taunting her with the fact that they'd been ruthlessly dragged from their home.

She suddenly felt dirty, violated, and needed to be alone. “I'm going to take a shower.”

Colt sighed. “Sure. If you need to rest, Serena, lie down for a while. Then we need to talk again.”

She wanted to ask him what more questions he could possibly have, but she knew there were more. Things she needed to think about. Her husband's past. That mysterious money.

Lyle Rice and his aliases.

But she didn't have the energy to do so yet, so she trudged down the hall. When she passed Petey's room and saw his toys, his unmade bed, the giant panda he liked to sleep with, her heart shattered.

Tears flowed like rainwater down her face, and she rushed to her room, tore off her clothes and threw them in the trash. She would never be able to wear those jeans and that shirt again without remembering the night she'd spent in jail wearing them.

A minute later, she stood beneath the hot water and soaped and scrubbed herself until she felt as if her skin
was raw. The stench of the jail and those damn ink stains on her fingers haunted her.

Closing her eyes, she imagined that when she stepped out of the shower, Colt would be waiting in her bedroom smiling. That he'd tell her that her son was home safe and this nightmare had ended.

Finally when the water turned cold, she dried her body and tears and pulled on a pair of loose knit pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, then blew her hair dry and yanked it back in a ponytail.

The scent of chicken soup wafted through the hallway, and she found Colt in the kitchen ladling the soup into two bowls. Apparently he'd raided her cupboard. He set crackers on the table, and she slumped down at the table, exhausted.

“Eat, Serena,” Colt said quietly. “You have to keep up your strength.”

Numb, she did as he said. Not because she was hungry, but she had to keep going. Had to stay strong. Had to help find her son.

She'd die without him.

Colt joined her, a tense silence stretching between them as they ate the simple meal.

“Thank you,” she said when she'd managed to finish the bowl. Maybe she had been hungry. Who knew. Her emotions were on a roller coaster.

He nodded, then stood and took her bowl and his and rinsed them, then stacked them in the dishwasher. “If you need to sleep awhile, that's fine. I'll check in with GAI and see if they have any leads.”

She propped her head on her hand, weary. “I can't
sleep. I need to do something, keep busy, try to figure out why all this is happening.”

He nodded in understanding. “Then I want to show you that duffel bag of money and see if you recognize it.”

Resigned, Serena stood and followed him to the attic. He crossed the space to the old trunk in the corner and opened it. Two blankets lay on top, and he pulled them back then removed a black bag.

She frowned, studying the outside of the bag, searching her memory banks to recall if she'd seen it before.

“Do you recognize it?” Colt asked.

She shook her head and watched silently as he opened the bag and the stacks of hundred dollar bills appeared. Shock settled over her. “I can't believe this was Parker's, that he hid it up here.”

Anger bubbled inside her, and she paced to the attic window and stared out. Clouds were brewing in the sky, threatening a storm, making the sky look as dismal and gray as she felt inside.

A muscle ticked in Colt's jaw. “Had he brought cash home before like this?”

“No, at least not that I know of.”

“If he was deep undercover,” Colt said, “he could have planned to use it for a payoff, then bust the drug dealer. But he was killed before he could retrieve it.”

That was the scenario she wanted to believe, but suspicions nagged at her, just as she was sure they were Colt. “I'm beginning to wonder what else I didn't know about my husband.”