Between Now and Forever

by Barbara Freethy

  Jim Reynolds's law firm was on the thirty-second floor of a downtown skyscraper with a view of San Francisco and the Bay Bridge. It had been six years since Nicole had been in this office, but she vividly remembered the last time, the day that Jim had placed Brandon in her arms and said, "I'd like you to meet your son."

  Emotion choked her throat, and she sniffed back a tear. This was no time to break down. There was too much to do.

  She followed Ryan to the reception desk, happy to have him take the lead while she pulled herself together.

  "We need to speak to Mr. Reynolds," Ryan said, his voice firm and demanding.

  "Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked.

  "No, but Mr. Reynolds handled our adoption six years ago, and the child we adopted is now missing. I'm Ryan Prescott. This is my wife, Nicole. We'd like a few minutes of his time."

  "All right," the woman said, a wary look on her face. "Wait here."

  She got up from her desk and disappeared down the hall.

  Nicole walked over to the window and gazed out at the city below. The narrow, crowded streets were teeming with tourists and business people. In the distance she could see Coit tower, Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39. The view was beautiful, but from here, the city seemed huge and filled with a million people. Where on earth was her little boy?

  She'd never not known where Brandon was. For every second of his life, she'd been in control. But now she had no idea where Brandon was or who he was with. The biological parents were nameless, faceless people, that she'd stopped thinking about a long time ago. That had obviously been a mistake.

  "I should have asked more questions," she said, turning to Ryan. "About Brandon's real parents. But I didn't want to know anything about them. I wanted to pretend that Brandon was ours."

  "He is ours, and we are his real parents. We were there when he had colic every night as a baby. We took turns holding him when he had a fever. We were there when he learned how to walk and talk. We comforted him when he cried. We were by his side every moment of every day." Ryan's jaw tightened. "At least you were."

  She saw the flash anger in his eyes, and habit made her want to reassure him. But she couldn't quite bring herself to let him off the hook.

  In the first year after Brandon's diagnosis, Ryan had been very present. But as the years passed, his hope had faltered, and she couldn't handle his realistic viewpoint. They were suddenly at odds all the time. They couldn't hear each other. They couldn't connect the way they used to. Brandon's condition was always between them. Their strong bond frayed, and then it eventually snapped.

  But they were together again now. It seemed the bitterest irony that Brandon's presence had split them apart and his absence had brought them back together.

  As the tense silence between them lengthened, she cleared her throat and said, "Do you think the biological parents will tell Brandon that he's their son?"

  Ryan stared back at her. "If the parents are the ones who took him, probably so. I don’t think he'll believe them or even understand them."

  "I wanted to tell him when he was older. And then after he got sick, it seemed like the last thing we needed to try to get into his brain."

  "That was the right decision," Ryan said.

  "I thought it was." She paused. "What if we did something wrong, Ryan? What if the right papers weren't signed? What if Mr. Reynolds cut some sort of corner?"

  "Jim Reynolds is a reputable attorney. Look around this office. He's been in business for years. He's helped coordinate thousands of adoptions."

  "I know, but I remember thinking back then that it was too good to be true. Didn't you?"

  He frowned. "No. I didn't think that. We tried to adopt for five years, Nicole. I thought our turn had finally come up." He glanced at the empty reception desk. "What's taking so long?"

  "Maybe he doesn't remember us. It's been six years."

  As she finished speaking, the receptionist returned to her desk followed by Jim Reynolds. The attorney was in his early fifties and was a short, stocky man with a receding hairline. He waved them into a nearby conference room.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Prescott," he said. "What can I do for you?"

  "Our son is missing," Ryan replied. "And apparently, he's a twin, something you didn't disclose to us at the time of the adoption."

  "His twin has also disappeared," Nicole put in. "The police think the biological parents could be connected."

  Jim stared back at them for a long minute. Nicole couldn't read his expression. He seemed surprised, but he was also wary.

  "We need to know everything you know about Brandon's biological parents," Ryan added.

  "You've caught me off guard here," Jim said slowly. "As I recall, your adoption was closed. Is that correct?"

  "Yes," Ryan said.

  "I'm afraid I can't give you any information without the consent of the biological parents."

  "Then get them on the phone," Ryan ordered.

  Jim stared back at them. "Tell me what happened with your son."

  "He disappeared from his school playground," Ryan replied. "And his identical twin was taken from a party a few days ago."

  "His identical twin," Nicole repeated, watching the attorney's face for some clue as to whether or not he had known there were two boys. "Why didn't you tell us our son had a brother? We would have adopted both of them."

  "I don't remember the circumstances of your case. I'm sorry. I've handled thousands of adoptions. Quite frankly, I didn't even remember your name until I saw you in reception. I will, however, check the file and see what information is available."

  Nicole's heart sunk at his answer, but she was used to fighting for Brandon. She had no intention of letting the attorney blow them off. "Every second is critical. Our son has been missing since yesterday afternoon, and the other child has been gone for three days. We need you to open the file now."

  "I understand your desperation, and I sympathize. I have children of my own, and I can only imagine what you're going through."

  "You can't imagine," Ryan said forcefully. "No one can imagine the horror of losing a child. We'll wait while you look up our case."

  The attorney frowned. "It was six years ago, right? I'm afraid those files were moved to storage several years ago."

  "They're not computerized?" Ryan asked.

  "No, but I will have a search conducted for the records."

  Nicole didn't think that sounded like a fast process. "We've just come from the police department, Mr. Reynolds. They'll be contacting you soon."

  "I understand. I'm happy to cooperate."

  "You don't seem cooperative," Ryan said bluntly, his words echoing Nicole's thoughts.

  Mr. Reynolds tipped his head. "I'm under legal constraints, Mr. Prescott. California has very strict laws when it comes to unsealing adoption records. There's little I can do without the consent of the biological parents. If I can help you, I certainly will. I promise to be in touch as soon as I know anything."

  Jim opened the conference room door, making it clear their meeting was over.

  Ryan strode forward, then paused in front of the lawyer. "Whoever kidnapped two six-year-olds from the only families they've ever known doesn't deserve the protection of the law. The children do; they're the only ones who are important here. Please help us."

  "I will do everything I can," Jim promised.

  They walked out to the elevator in silence. Ryan slammed his hand against the elevator button. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath.

  She didn't disagree with his opinion of the lawyer. Jim Reynolds had seemed like their benevolent savior six years ago. Now he was a hard, ruthless man, who was obviously worried about protecting himself. He was not going to help them unless the court ordered him to open up his records. And how long would that take?

  Suddenly overwhelmed, she put a hand on the nearby wall to steady herself.

  Ryan's gaze shot to hers. "Are you all right?"

  She shook her head. "No."

&nbs
p; "What can I do?"

  "Bring Brandon home," she said helplessly.

  "I'm trying."

  "I know you are," she said, meeting his gaze. "I'm glad you're here with me, Ryan."

  His eyes darkened with emotion. "There's nowhere else I want to be. Let's go home."

  * * *

  When they returned home, Ryan found himself surrounded by Callaways, and his tension increased. In the past several months he hadn't had much contact with the family, and he didn't know what Nicole had told anyone about their separation, but he doubted her family was too high on him, especially her father, Jack Callaway.

  The patriarch of the family, Jack was also second in charge at the San Francisco Fire Department. He was a man who was bigger than life, with a loud booming voice, sparkling blue eyes, and innate leadership qualities. Ryan had always admired Jack. Jack was the kind of father that Ryan had wanted to be, but he'd fallen short of that goal.

  As they entered the living room, the group chatter came to an immediate halt. On the couch next to Jack were Nicole's mother, Lynda, and her grandmother, Eleanor. Nicole's sister, Shayla, was perched on the arm of the recliner, next to her grandfather, Patrick. Nicole's brother, Drew, and his new love, Ria, were on the loveseat. Burke stood by the window, his arms folded in front of him, a serious look on his face, but that wasn't unusual. He was the most intense and focused of the Callaway brothers.

  After a tense moment, Jack stood up and opened his arms to Nicole. She walked into his embrace.

  Ryan felt very much like the odd man out.

  "Ryan," Burke said, drawing his attention. "What have you found out?"

  "A lot." He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at Nicole. "Do you want to tell them?"

  "Go ahead," she urged.

  "All right. We learned today that Brandon has an identical twin brother," he said. "And that little boy, Kyle Schilling, was kidnapped on Wednesday night. The police obviously believe now that there's a connection, perhaps a link to the biological parents."

  Jack shook his head in disbelief. "That's shocking. You had no idea your son was a twin?"

  "None. Our lawyer didn't tell us, if he knew, and he wasn't willing to state whether he did know or he didn't. He said he would have to look up our case file, which doesn't appear to be on his computer system. Apparently, it's going to take some legal maneuvering to get to the identity of the biological parents, maybe even a court order."

  "That's crazy," Drew said. "If the kids have been taken by the biological parents, can't someone be compelled to open the file?"

  "The police are working on it," Nicole said. "But Ryan and I found our attorney to be pretty uncooperative. We don't know why. Hopefully, he didn't do something wrong at the time of the adoption."

  "Is that a concern?" Burke asked.

  Nicole met Ryan's gaze, then she shrugged, turning back to her brother. "We don’t know. Everything is happening so fast; we're trying to keep up."

  The doorbell rang, and Lynda jumped to her feet. "That's going to be a team from the Center for Missing Children. They've offered their resources to help search for Brandon."

  "Thanks for reaching out to them, Mom," Nicole said.

  "They called you, honey. They have a lot of resources we can tap into. Even if the biological parents are involved, I think it's still worth talking to them."

  "I agree," Nicole said, following her mother out of the room.

  "You look tired, Ryan," Eleanor said, drawing his gaze to hers. "You should drink some chamomile tea. It always works for me when I can't sleep."

  "He doesn't need tea, Ellie," her husband, Patrick, said.

  "How do you know what he needs?" she snapped back. "You don't know everything Patrick Callaway. I know a few things, too."

  "We should go," Patrick said abruptly.

  "What did I say?" Eleanor asked in confusion as Patrick held out his hand to her.

  "It's time for dinner," Patrick said.

  "We haven't eaten yet?"

  "No," Patrick said gently, taking his wife's hand as he brought her to her feet.

  It saddened Ryan to see Eleanor so confused. Nicole's grandmother had been one of his biggest supporters when he and Nicole had first gotten together. Eleanor had told him once that she completely understood what first and furious love felt like, because she'd felt that way about Patrick.

  But while he and Nicole had been derailed by the problems of life, Patrick and Eleanor still clung together, even after fifty years of marriage and Eleanor in the throes of Alzheimer's disease.

  "Grandpa always shuts Grandma down," Shayla commented. "Emma's right. It's like he doesn't want her to tell us something."

  Ryan didn't know what Shayla was talking about, but he had his own puzzle to solve. "I'm going to take a walk around the neighborhood." He'd wanted to go down to Brandon's school, and also look around the few blocks in between the house and the school. Dozens of people had already searched the surrounding area, but he hadn't had a chance to actually look for his son until now. And he needed to do that.

  "I'll go with you," Drew said, getting to his feet.

  "All right." If he had to have a Callaway with him, he'd take Drew. They'd always had a lot in common, starting with their love of aviation. Drew had flown helicopters for the Navy and was now working for the Coast Guard.

  As they walked to the door, he saw Nicole and her mother in the dining room with three other people. He paused to say, "Drew and I are going to look around the neighborhood."

  She nodded. "Okay. I'll be here."

  He walked out to the porch and down the steps, Drew on his heels. They didn't say anything for a few minutes, and he was grateful for the silence. He felt like he'd been on a sprint since he'd gotten off the plane and raced home, his heart beating out of his chest, terror running through his veins. And today had been one shock after the next. He needed to get his head together.

  "Where are we going?" Drew asked after a moment.

  "To the school. It's three blocks away."

  "You need to see where it happened."

  "I do," he admitted. "I know the school has been checked many times, but I have to start somewhere."

  As they walked, his gaze swept every yard of the residential neighborhood, which was a mix of houses and small apartment buildings. He knew the streets well. Nicole and he had always been walkers. They'd loved exploring the city on the weekends. Before they'd adopted Brandon, their walks had been longer and more vigorous. After Brandon, they'd stayed closer to home, visiting local parks and the beach on Sunday afternoons.

  Brandon had loved to walk with them, before he'd gone into his head and gotten lost. After that, it was a struggle to get him to go anywhere. Sometimes Nicole would have to drive him the three blocks to school just because she knew it would take close to an hour to coax him to walk that far. Often times, Brandon would sit down on the curb and refused to budge. Then they'd have to try to pick him up, and he'd scream loud enough to bring out the neighbors. He let out a sigh, thinking that even with all the problems, he wanted desperately to get his son back.

  Drew shot him a sharp look. "You okay, Ryan?"

  "I don't remember what okay feels like. Brandon is lost, and Nicole and I are headed for divorce. I don't know what the hell happened to my life." His gaze moved upward as a small plane flew overhead.

  Drew followed his gaze. "I bet you'd rather be up there."

  "Yes. I know what I'm doing up there. Down here—not so much."

  "The sky has always been a great escape for me, too. But eventually we all have to land. Any chance you and Nicole can work through your differences?"

  "Maybe if we spent more than five minutes talking about our marriage," Ryan replied. "But Nicole never has time to talk and even less time to listen. It's all about Brandon, and I understand why her focus is on him. But I can't be in this marriage alone. If I can't give Nicole what she needs, then maybe I should let her go, let her find someone who can."

  "What about what you
want?" Drew challenged. "Or who you want—is it still Nicole?"

  Ryan thought for a moment. "Yes. It's always been her." He paused. "I thought things had gotten so bad that being apart wouldn't matter, but I've missed Nicole these past few months, and I've missed Brandon, too. Unfortunately, there's a big wall between us, and I don't know how to tear it down."

  "Take out a small hammer and start chipping," Drew suggested.

  "Your sister is tough," he said dryly. "I might need a big hammer."

  Drew smiled. "Of course she's tough; she's a Callaway. But you knew how to get to her once. Do it again. Make her hear you. Make her see you. I don't think you should give up on her, not if you still love her."

  "Maybe I'll try again after Brandon comes home." He shot Drew a thoughtful look. "So now that you have a girlfriend, you think you know everything about women and relationships?"

  Drew grinned. "Not everything, but at least a little more than I knew before."

  "So you and Ria are a couple now?" he asked, having heard bits and pieces of their love story. "How's that going?"

  "Great."

  "She has a kid or a sister…"

  "Megan is Ria's niece, but Ria is her legal guardian now. Megan is seventeen years old and a senior in high school. She's a wonderful girl, very resilient. She lost both her parents and was terrorized by her mobster uncle, but she came through it all. And now she's a normal teenager. I've actually been teaching her how to drive."

  "You?" Ryan said with a laugh. "Didn't you get like three speeding tickets in one year."

  "That was a long time ago."

  "Yeah when you were Megan's age."

  "We don't need to share that information with Megan."

  "Got it. So you're kind of playing a father role these days?"

  "Megan is basically grown, but I like watching out for her."

  "And Ria?"

  "She's the woman I always dreamt about. I just didn't know who she was until I met her. And then that was it for me. I was hooked. I know she's the one. I'm going to propose next month on her birthday. No one else knows yet, so keep that under your hat."

  "I will," he promised. He was a little envious of the happiness in Drew's voice, the love in his eyes when he spoke about Ria. He'd had that kind of amazing love, too, but somehow he'd let it slip through his fingers.