by Cynthia Eden
Miles was also hurting inside and felt powerless to help his son. That made them kindred spirits.
“Tell me what happened,” Jordan said gently.
He slanted her a condescending look. “I thought you said Brody filled you in.”
Jordan simply folded her arms. “Yes, but I want to hear it from you. Everything from the day Timmy’s mother died to how and where you found Timmy to what the doctors said.”
A muscle jumped in his chiseled jaw. “You can read the police report.” He yanked an envelope from inside his denim jacket pocket. The movement revealed the weapon he had holstered to his side. “Here’s the doctor’s report, too.”
Jordan forced a calm into her voice. “I will read it, but it’s important I hear what you have to say.”
“Why? All I need for you to do is to get Timmy to look at this picture.” He yanked another envelope from his jacket, pulled out a photograph and slapped it on the table. “If he can identify this man as his mother’s killer, then I can put him back in jail where he belongs.”
Jordan gritted her teeth. “So Timmy witnessed the murder?”
Miles gave a clipped nod, the pain so intense in his eyes that it nearly robbed her breath. “I believe so, but he hasn’t spoken since that day. That’s why I need you to get him to talk.”
Jordan glanced through the window at Timmy, her heart aching for the boy. “I understand your impatience,” she said. “But Timmy has undergone a terrible shock. It may take him time to open up.”
Miles glared at her. “I don’t have time.”
Jordan’s anger rose. “Then you’d better damn well find it, because the important thing here is that your son heal.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, his eyes flaring with rage. “The important thing is keeping Timmy safe. This man Robert Dugan is a cold-blooded killer. He threatened me in court, he slit Timmy’s mother’s throat, and if he knows Timmy is a witness, he’ll probably come back to kill him.”
* * *
TIMMY ROCKED HIMSELF back and forth in the chair. He thought the lady said something to him. Something about horses. But he couldn’t make out her words. It was too noisy in his head. Voices...things crashing...the screaming.
And he couldn’t see any horses.
All he saw was the red.
Red blotches...black blotches...more red...more black...
Someone else was in the room with him, too. His daddy...at least he thought it was his daddy...
No, he was mad at him. He hadn’t come home...
His eyes blurred and then it was dark. So dark everything went black.
Like night all the time. Scary night.
Scary night when the monsters came...
He buried his head in his arms and rocked harder. Pushed at his ears to make the noises be quiet.
He didn’t want to see the monsters. They were bad. They were going to get him.
He had to run....
But he couldn’t run...he couldn’t move. Couldn’t do nothing to stop the noises and the dark from coming...
Or the red from splattering the walls...
Or his mommy’s cries...
ISBN: 9781460300992
Copyright © 2013 by Cynthia Roussos
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Excerpt
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Excerpt