‘He said he wanted Mom to come find him.’ Isaac’s eyes filled with fresh tears, and she felt his pulse quicken as he rocked back and forth. ‘He showed me a basement he’d prepared for you.’ His choked words were barely above a whisper.
Alyssa scooted her chair in closer to her son and wrapped one arm around him, pulling back, eyes drawn together in concern when she noticed him wince. ‘There were chains on the bed… and he…’
Alyssa caught Cord’s gaze, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. Callie McCormick. ‘I’m right here, sweetie. He’s not going to get me. Or you. I promise.’
‘I threw up, and he… he… kicked me, and screamed… I couldn’t…’ Isaac moaned as he replayed it in his own mind. He was beaten and bruised in more ways than one, Alyssa knew.
The knowledge that he was taken because of her, that Isaac had been tormented because of her left her choking and suffocating at the same time. All she wanted to do was track down the man who claimed to be Hunter Jenkins and make him suffer for what he’d done. Dual emotions of rage and heartbreak beat through her.
‘Sweetie, I want you to think carefully now and describe him. Do you think you can do that?’
‘He was about five ten, maybe a little taller than me. His hair looked like he was in the military.’ Isaac’s leg bounced up and down as he spoke. ‘He was maybe about thirty or forty, I guess.’
Both Alyssa and Cord snapped back, a questioning look in their eyes. ‘Are you sure about his age, Isaac?’ Cord asked, placing a warning hand on Alyssa’s shoulder.
‘Well, I mean he could’ve been older, I guess, but he wasn’t as old as Dad or Mom, I don’t think.’
Alyssa saw a faint smile try to work its way onto her husband’s face, but he, too, was struggling to keep it together, to stay strong for his son and daughter. With her arm still wrapped around Isaac’s shoulder, she stretched her fingers toward Brock’s until he reached out and squeezed them. They stared at each other, and their message was clear: they’d get through this, somehow, some way.
Then Isaac shocked them all. ‘Mom, he was watching the news, he was proud that an Amber Alert was issued. And I saw… I saw you on television…’ His teeth clacked together loudly as he said, ‘He laughed because he said you were looking for Hunter Jenkins, but that Hunter Jenkins was dead. And then he said you wouldn’t be finding the old man you think is Hunter Jenkins, either.’
Alyssa sat up straighter, her brows drawn together. They knew Hunter Jenkins was a stolen identity, at least in name – they hadn’t found any record of his social security number being used after the real Hunter Jenkins’ death – but, what had the kidnapper meant when he said they wouldn’t find the old man they thought was Hunter Jenkins?
Was it possible they were dealing with two perpetrators working together? She was sure Jenkins was somehow involved; it couldn’t have been a mere fluke that Holly had seen him in the neighborhood before Isaac went missing. It was far too much of a coincidence, especially when adding in the fact that Jenkins had gone missing shortly after Callie’s death.
Cord excused himself to head out to his car. When he returned, Alyssa recognized the McCormick file in his hands. He pulled out an image of what she knew would be the grainy photo of Hunter Jenkins and handed it to Isaac who took it, obviously confused. She watched her son’s face for any signs of recognition.
‘Is this the man who claimed to be Officer Shane Pobiv?’ Cord asked.
Alyssa’s eyes wandered to the name written down on the police report, something tickling at her brain when Cord spoke the man’s name aloud. She mentally searched through offenders she’d arrested in the past but came up empty. She wasn’t familiar with the name itself, but there was something there that she needed to explore because she wanted to know why the name Shane Pobiv made the back of her neck itch.
Isaac shook his head in response to Cord’s question. ‘No. This man’s way too old. But that’s the guy whose picture was on the television.’
Alyssa caught her partner’s eyes, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
‘I have to go to the bathroom,’ Isaac said suddenly, and his grip tightened on his mom’s.
Brock stood, holding his son’s elbow when Isaac’s wobbly legs buckled beneath him. ‘I’m glad you said that, son, because I have to go, too, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just go with you.’
As they turned to go, Alyssa said, ‘I should call your mom and let her know what’s going on.’
‘Already done,’ Holly chimed in. ‘I sent her a text, giving her a brief run-down, and told her we’d call tomorrow.’ She said all this while staring at Isaac. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him since they’d all tumbled from the car, afraid he’d vanish into thin air again if she let him out of her sight.
Alyssa understood the feeling.
‘Thanks, sweetie,’ she said, relieved her daughter had taken care of that detail. She should feel like a horrible daughter-in-law for not having thought of it sooner, but she didn’t have any room left.
‘I’m going to talk to the guy who picked you up, okay?’ she told her son. He swallowed but nodded, his head swiveling every few seconds as they headed toward the restroom, reassuring himself she was still there. As soon as he rounded the corner with his dad, she stood to go speak to Tex Rivers, the twenty-six-year-old man who’d saved Isaac, but Cord’s hand settled on her shoulders.
‘You know you can’t question him, Lys. It’s a conflict of interest, and you don’t want anything standing in the way of a conviction when we catch Hunter Jenkins, or whatever his real name is.’
Her first reaction was to assure Cord there would be no trial because he wouldn’t live that long, but she knew that was grief and anger speaking. She upheld the law; she didn’t break it. Besides when she captured the guy who’d done this – and she would – a lifetime in solitary confinement would be better than a death sentence. ‘I just want to thank him,’ she said, ‘not interrogate him.’
She reached the other officer’s desk – Officer Sandoval, by the tag on his uniform – as Tex was explaining how he’d come across Isaac. ‘I just wanted to get out on an open road and try out my new car.’ He hitched his thumb over his shoulder to point outside where a shiny cherry-red Chevy sat, now with a cracked passenger window. ‘When I came around the corner, the kid bolted in front of my car in the middle of the road waving and jumping like he was on fire.’
Alyssa listened with a tight stomach as Tex continued to describe the events as they unfolded, from Isaac pounding on the windows, scratching at the door and pleading to be let in, to the man who’d suddenly appeared in the road, searching for his escaped prisoner.
Officer Sandoval stopped Tex and cocked his head at Alyssa. ‘Detective – your son told me you work out of 4th and Roma,’ he said when she arched her brows. ‘You can’t be here while we’re speaking to a potential witness in your son’s abduction.’
‘I just want to thank him,’ Alyssa repeated.
Cord reached out and shook Sandoval’s hand. ‘Sir, do you think I can take a look at the description of our suspect? We think he might be connected to another case,’ he asked, man to man.
Tex spoke up as if a question had been asked of him. ‘It was dark, and it all happened so fast. I was kind of freaked, you know? Look, I’ll be honest, man, I almost didn’t stop at all. I’ve heard too many stories about people pretending they’re in trouble just to trap you.’
Sandoval stopped him, staring at Alyssa until she gave a brief nod, thanked Tex Rivers again and walked off, listening as he told Cord, ‘He was short for a guy, shorter than me,’ Tex said. ‘I’m about five ten, and he seemed smaller than that. But he was built bigger. Had a barrel chest – I call it the military or cop chest. Burly, I guess you could say. Close-cropped hair, but not crew cut, more business-cut.’
‘Old, young, middle-aged?’ Alyssa overheard Cord ask, and she wondered if anyone else could sense the tension in his question.
‘Hard to say. Could�
�ve been any of those, but if you wanted me to guess, I’d say middle-aged.’
‘Mustache, beard, any scars you could maybe see?’ Cord asked, and Alyssa was surprised Sandoval was letting him get away with it. But since he wasn’t family, and he was investigating the same person, she supposed it was okay.
‘Naw, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice anything like that, but like I said, it was nearly pitch black out, and everything happened so fast.’
Alyssa watched the time pass, counting the minutes until Brock returned with Isaac. When she saw him limping, his face twisting in pain with every step, she tried once again to convince him he needed to go to the hospital. ‘Baby, you still have a fever, you’re covered in bruises, and those cuts have to be looked at.’ She looked pointedly at his wrists.
When his trembling resumed, and he shook his head, tears streaming like a waterfall, it was his sister who stepped up to him. ‘Brother, we’ll be with you the whole time.’
He wouldn’t stop shaking his head. ‘They’ll want to take me for X-rays,’ he admitted, ‘and they won’t let you go with me.’ Alyssa could see how much the admission cost him, and she turned just as Cord was walking back over, having caught the tail end of the conversation.
Then, making sure Isaac saw him before he touched him on the shoulder, he said, ‘Hey, man, you know I’m married to a pretty hot nurse, right? So how about we don’t make you head to the hospital tonight, but you let Sara come and look you over? I think we’d all feel better that way.’
Isaac’s shoulder dropped as the weight of the hospital was lifted off him for the time being. ‘Yeah, okay,’ he agreed.
Cord excused himself to call his wife. Thirty minutes later she rushed into the station and hugged Alyssa, Brock, Holly, and Isaac. ‘Before I begin,’ she said, ‘have the police already photographed his injuries?’ At everyone’s nod, she said, ‘I assumed they had, but I needed to ask.’ She turned to Isaac. ‘Ready to get started?’ she asked gently. She offered a sad smile at his grumbled yes, and then began checking him for any immediate concerns. When she finished, she said, ‘I want to remind you all that I’m not a doctor, and Isaac really needs to see one first thing in the morning to have his ankle and wrist looked at, at the very least. I’d feel better if he went right now…’
When Isaac started to protest, she interrupted, ‘I can’t force that on anyone, but I do strongly advise it. From that bruise on your side, I’d guess you have cracked or broken ribs. It probably hurts with every breath you take, right?’
Isaac nodded.
‘And you might not have noticed it as much before because of the adrenaline rush. But you’re feeling it now, and you’ll definitely feel it in the morning. The hospital might be able to give you some pain medication that will help with that – as well as help you sleep.’
‘Mom, Dad, please. I promise I’ll go tomorrow. I just want to go home tonight. Please,’ he choked out. The tears in his eyes and the tremble in his body won out over common sense, and Alyssa capitulated after catching Brock’s eye and seeing his slight nod.
On the way home, everyone was silent, and Alyssa tried to compartmentalize all the information thrown at them that night, but all she accomplished was to replay what she’d heard about the nightmare her son had endured and his miraculous escape, thinking of all the things that could’ve – should’ve – gone wrong.
By the time they finally pulled into the garage and entered the house around two in the morning, the entire family was ready to collapse but afraid to let each other out of sight.
Alyssa draped her arm around Isaac and said, ‘I know this is going to sound silly and totally mommish, but I think I’d sleep better tonight if you’d leave your door open.’
Brock chimed in, understanding what she was doing. ‘To be honest, it’d make me feel a little better, too.’
‘Me, too,’ Holly piped in.
Relief flooded Isaac’s eyes, and Alyssa knew her son realized his family had just given him an out, but he played it off, shrugging, and said, ‘Yeah, okay.’
Alyssa hugged him and said, ‘Thanks, baby.’ She leaned in to kiss his scraped-up cheek and whispered so only he could hear, ‘Come get me if you have trouble sleeping, okay?’ He nodded, and Alyssa stepped back so the rest of the family could embrace each other and say their goodnights.
On the way up the stairs, she said, ‘And tomorrow, you are going to the doctor to get checked out, whether you like it or not.’ She gave the timeout symbol and cut him off when he started to argue. ‘It’s not up for debate. You’re going; I don’t care if you think you’re okay. Tonight, you get a reprieve only because Sara was kind enough to look you over. Tomorrow, you go.’
Isaac grudgingly nodded his assent, and, footsteps heavy with fatigue, they trudged to their bedrooms, leaving their doors open, needing the illusion of being connected even though they were in separate rooms.
Chapter Fifty
Friday, April 5, 11:00p.m.
‘Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!’ Bishop’s lips pulled back, baring his teeth, and his veins strained against his neck as he yelled at the image in the mirror. His face was covered in scratches from where he’d repeatedly raked his fingernails over it, his arms wore crisscross cuts, his shirt was torn in several places where thorns had attacked and grabbed at him, and the area under his eyes was flushed a dark purplish hue. Ignoring the stinging burn, he watched blood swirl in a circle down the drain as he ran hot water over knuckles scraped raw from punching trees on his race back to his house nestled high in the mountains.
Only when the water changed from red to pinkish did Bishop shut the taps off. He wrapped a towel around his left hand, the one with the most amount of damage, and headed for the kitchen where Isaac’s discarded soup bowl rested on the counter. His eyes glazed over as a roar erupted from deep in his chest, and he slammed his fist down, rattling the dishes in the cabinet. His fury piqued again, he swiped his arm across the counter, forcing anything in his arm’s path to shatter against the wooden floor. And then he opened a cupboard and began hurling dishes against the wall.
How could he have made such an amateur move? Leaving the boy unbound and alone? He stomped into his living room and kicked an end table, toppling it on its side, and shattering his new lamp.
‘How? How did he get the code?’ he muttered to himself. In his mind, an image flashed. He’d just entered the code when a noise from outside startled him, and he’d jerked around to see what it was. When he turned back, the code flashed on the screen, and he hit enter. That had to have been what happened – in that split second of inattention, the kid must have seen it. Once again, he had the urge to gouge the kid’s eyes out. He picked his boot up and hurled it at the alarm, causing a flash of electricity to burst from the gadget. It’d be the first thing he did when he got him again. And he had no doubt he would. If Alyssa wasn’t coming to him this way, he’d go to her.
His anger finally slowing, his gaze landed on the basement door where he had plans for Alyssa Wyatt. What were the chances the boy could pinpoint this exact location? It wasn’t like he’d been able to get a good look at the place as he was fleeing. And it had been dark.
A new plan took shape, and this time, it included more than the detective and her son. It included her entire family.
As his idea grew, so did his hatred, and so he fed and nourished it. Before he killed her, she would know who had destroyed her life and taken everything from her. He imagined how he’d laugh as she pleaded for her family’s lives, for her own. He’d let her believe there was a chance.
And then, he’d ignite the flame and throw gasoline on the fire as he watched her hopes die a slow death.
Chapter Fifty-One
Saturday, April 6
Alyssa let Isaac sleep until ten the next morning. She’d lain awake another hour after everyone else had fallen asleep – everyone, that was, except Isaac. He’d tossed and turned long after Holly and Brock drifted off. Finally, when she thought her eyes were made of fine sandpaper,
Isaac stopped rolling around and fell into a fitful sleep.
An hour later she was woken by Isaac’s thrashing and mumbling and crawled out of bed to wake him from his nightmare. The light from his bathroom shined down on him, and her insides twisted as tightly as the covers embracing his body. Even now, he kicked out with one leg while wringing the sheets in his fists. The physical ache in her heart, she knew, was nothing compared to the torment her son had endured and would relive for a very long time, if not the rest of his life. And there was nothing she could do except love him through all the necessary stages.
That and catch Hunter Jenkins, and make sure he never stepped foot outside of prison ever again.
When Isaac’s moans became anguished cries, she tiptoed across the room, navigating through piles of dirty clothes, books, and miscellaneous other items. She stopped at the side of the bed, and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, hoping her touch would seep through his nightmare and into his subconscious, reminding him he was safe now.
To her surprise and relief, his body, bathed in sweat, stilled immediately upon her touch. She kept her hand there for several seconds then stroked the top of her son’s head, moving his wet hair out of his eyes. He murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, but she swore she heard him say, ‘I want my mom.’
‘I’m here, baby,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not going to let anything else happen to you. I promise.’ Images of Callie McCormick and Timmy flashed in her mind. Viciously, she shoved them away. She would protect her son and the rest of her family – the way she hadn’t protected the others. And she would track down Hunter Jenkins, even if she had to go to her grave to do it.
It was a vow she made to her son’s sleeping form and to herself. When he’d been still for ten minutes, Alyssa removed her hand and walked back to the open bedroom door, stopping to gaze at Isaac, unable to take her eyes off him quite yet.
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