"Remarkable," Agent Nyler muttered, shaking his head. "Zach really is your son, but…adopted…as an embryo…"
"Without our permission," Kara emphasized again. She had made the same point already and didn't want him to miss it. She wanted to keep her son. She said another silent prayer for him, wherever he was.
"Right, without permission. And then he came and found you." Agent Nyler rubbed a finger across his mustache, mulling over the notes he had taken as Kara and Craig had spoken, telling the story of what they had discovered about Zach. "You should have told us about him sooner."
"You should have told me when I first brought him here," Officer Garrenton admonished from her seat beside Agent Nyler, across from Craig.
Kara grimaced. "I tried at first, but then… We thought he must be a relative. We thought he was Craig's cousin's son. And then when we found out he was ours, we were afraid to say anything. We didn't want to lose him." Craig looked abashed, but he had no more reason than she; until recently, she had agreed that they should keep Zach's mystery to themselves.
As the five adults had sat together around the dining table for the past thirty minutes, an extra chair brought in for Eddie, the most impressive bit of information Craig and Kara had offered had been the first—the DNA test results, hard evidence that Zach was their son. Those results had brought an exchange of serious and confused looks between Officer Garrenton and Agent Nyler.
As soon as he had seen those results and the picture of young Craig in the entryway, which was strong evidence in itself, Agent Nyler was convinced that Craig and Kara had had no part in Zach's disappearance—he had good instincts—and had notified his office at the FBI that Zach had likely been abducted. That sent agents, port authorities, and police officers into alert across the metropolitan area, watching for signs of Zach. No one would be able to leave the area by ship or plane with an undocumented child matching Zach's age and description, at least not openly. By car, though—that was another matter. No number of officers checking every car, even if that were feasible, could secure every road. And, of course, there were ample places to hide a young boy in Seattle itself.
So Zach could be a long way away by now, or well-hidden nearby, some five hours after school had let out. Kara had broken out into a cold sweat, realizing that.
The doorbell rang and Officer Garrenton rose to answer it. She invited a pair of FBI agents inside and led them to the den, where she and Agent Nyler huddled with them, quietly sharing the information they had gathered and passing around the photograph Kara had provided of Zach in his baseball uniform.
Kara looked at Craig. He so hated feeling helpless. But there was nothing for either of them to do that the police and the FBI weren't already doing. She took his hand and gave it a supportive squeeze. He offered an unconvincing smile and fidgeted a little. Zach fidgeted like that when he was nervous. How fascinating it had been to have Zach here in their home with Craig, to see the two of them, father and son, reflections of each other, so much the same and yet so distinct. Their time with Zach had so often been wonderful—but tonight that wonder had been twisted into a nightmare. Kara continued to sweat.
Eddie remained in his seat, keeping quiet. He had offered his share of information about Zach's history at the school with no unnecessary elaboration; he had a natural sense for what information was important and what was not. He had remained a bit sheepish, too, keeping his head down and, though he had been sitting right there with them the whole time, staying out of the way. Now he watched Kara and Craig, his eyes anxious just like theirs.
They waited. After a minute, Officer Garrenton rejoined them at the table and spoke in a subdued tone. "No departments report any sign of Zach so far."
Craig received the news with a miserable nod. "Is there anything we can do?"
She smiled sympathetically. "Wait and pray. That's about all, I'm afraid."
"I need to be doing something," Craig fretted.
"Mr. Fleming," Officer Garrenton admonished compassionately, "you are doing something. You're here, and you're ready. We'll need you if the kidnappers call. Or if the FBI has a question." She sighed and reached across the table to place a hand on his. "And your son will need you to be there when we find him."
The two FBI agents talking with Agent Nyler departed a few minutes later. "We're checking recent passenger manifests for planes and ships that have come in from Asia," Agent Nyler reported, reclaiming a seat at the table. "In the morning, they'll be checking on anyone from Asia who stands out. I've sent agents to watch the airports and the docks. We'll also have agents at the clinic that performed your in vitro procedures first thing in the morning, Mrs. Fleming. They'll have a warrant to search the clinic's files and question the doctors the moment the employees begin to arrive."
"So," Craig grumbled, "you basically have no leads?"
"Not much," Agent Nyler admitted grimly. "But we have a clinic and a human trafficking ring, and we have an undercover agent in the latter. We've notified him to keep his ears open. And we have the names of the Lerwicks—we've got people working on tracking them down, too. The information you've collected, Mr. Fleming—it may save your son. I've solved cases with less to go on at the start."
Craig grimaced, but Kara nodded—weakly, to be sure, but it was all she could manage.
After a long silence, she offered to get drinks for them all. Craig gulped his down quickly and wandered back to the bedrooms, returning a minute later with his glove and Zach's baseball, pounding the ball into the glove as he paced the room.
An hour went by, then two, then three. It was getting very late. Derek and Ben stopped by the house again, but they could only sit and be supportive. They stayed a while, but as midnight approached Craig persuaded them to go home and rest.
Agent Nyler received an update by phone every half hour. Another pair of agents joined them at the house to process information with him. He seemed to be of high rank in the local Bureau; he directed the investigation and didn't appear to need to request a higher officer's permission for anything he needed.
Craig, still restless, went to the side door and invited Paws into the house. The dog immediately walked over to Kara, who approved his presence by rubbing his yellow head. Then Paws trotted down the hall to Zach's room, returning a moment later with his tail hanging behind him. He turned back to Craig and followed him across the room, lying down when Craig took a seat, placing his head on Craig's foot. The dog knew something was wrong, knew Zach wasn't here like he should be.
Seeing Kara sagging against the end of the wall dividing the hall from the den, Officer Garrenton rose from the armchair and stepped over to her. "Mrs. Fleming, why don't you and your husband try to get some sleep? If anything happens, I'll come get you right away. There's nothing you can do, leaning here against the wall."
Kara was tired, no question. But her son was out there somewhere, and she couldn't pray for him if she was asleep. Praying was the one thing she could do. "I don't think I'd be able to sleep," she told the officer. "I'll be okay."
Officer Garrenton studied her for a moment before taking a seat at the dining table.
Eddie came to stand next to Kara. "Do you mind if I lie down on the couch?" he asked softly. "I'd like to be here if you find out anything. But a little nap wouldn't hurt."
"Go ahead," Kara nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?"
Eddie shook his head. "I want to help if I can."
She shrugged. "Make yourself at home. Get whatever you like from the fridge. I'll get you a blanket. And the bathroom—"
"There, on the left," Eddie said, pointing toward it.
Kara blinked at him—he was observant—then turned and walked midway down the hall. In the cabinet she found him a thick blanket. He received it from her and disappeared back around the wall into the den.
Craig's phone rang, and he jumped to answer it. It was Rita, still awake and worried, calling to get an update on the sea
rch for Zach. Craig had no news to offer her. Grover had called an hour earlier, and Craig's answer had been the same. Rita didn't stay on the line long; Agent Nyler had advised them to keep their phones free as much as possible, in case the presumed kidnappers called.
When he had hung up, Craig sat at the table and rested his chin in his hands. Kara turned to the coat rack and lifted her jacket off of it. Officer Garrenton saw her, jumped up from the table, and strode over to her. "Mrs. Fleming, we really need you to stay."
Kara sighed. "I just need some fresh air. I'll be right here, on the porch." The officer didn't object as Kara stepped out the door and shut it behind her. She felt the officer's eyes watching her through the entryway window, but it didn't matter; she had no intention of leaving. She sat down on the porch step and stretched her feet out into the steady rain.
"Where are you, Zechariah?" she whispered, gazing out into the darkness that hid most of the world from view. Raindrops streaked the thin beams shining from the tall lamp across the street. God, hold him tonight, wherever he is! she prayed. She had often prayed for the boy, but not like tonight. She had never prayed for anything as hard as she had silently in her heart tonight.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. That tear opened the floodgates, and she wept for her son there on his step—the step where he had sat that first morning and splashed his bare feet in the rain. Almost unconsciously, Kara slipped off her shoes and socks and let her feet soak in the drops that fell from the sky.
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 89