"He's a big boy. He can handle himself."
"But he's here because of me. I should help him out."
"If he wanted your help, he'd ask for it."
"I doubt that. My brothers are very proud men."
"And you and your sisters are very stubborn women. So you should all just accept that about each other," he said with a smile. "I know it's in your nature to worry about everyone, but I think Sean is all right. He may be your younger brother, but he's twenty-eight years old, and he's been taking care of himself for a long time."
"I know he's super independent. He hates to take any help from the family."
"He wants to prove to your father that he doesn't need help."
"He and my dad have a very complicated relationship. Sean and Aiden probably have the hardest time with my father. They haven't been able to fall in line as well as everyone else. But while I could always see why Aiden and Jack clashed, Sean's relationship with Jack was different. There was almost a mystery to it. I don't know how to explain it. But I often felt like there was some underlying tension that only the two of them could explain, and they never felt inclined to do so—at least not to me or Emma. Did Sean ever tell you anything?"
"No."
"Maybe I'm just imagining something." She shot him a warning look as he started to open his mouth. "And don't tell me that it wouldn't be the first time."
He smiled. "I wasn't going to say that. You do have a good imagination, but you also have good instincts about people. What I was going to say was that it's funny how sometimes you call Jack your dad and other times you call him Jack."
She had always been a little torn when it came to calling her stepfather Dad. Even though her real father had basically abandoned her and Emma when he'd divorced their mother, she'd still felt a connection to him. As the years passed, it became clear that Jack was a better Dad than her father ever could be or wanted to be. But she still hadn't been able to let go of wanting some kind of a relationship with her real father, and that relationship had come after she started working in a field similar to his. Now they had mutual interests. Sometimes he seemed to treat her more like a colleague than a daughter, but at least they talked occasionally, and strangely enough that meant something to her.
She frowned, wondering now about the strength and power of that biological bond. Would Brandon feel some inexplicable connection to his birth mother or his birth father? Would something down deep inside his soul recognize that they were blood?
She found that thought disturbing.
"Nicole," Ryan said, drawing her gaze back to his. "Where did you go?"
"Some place I didn't want to go. I was just thinking about biological parents and adoptive ones. I know there's a strong blood bond that runs through everyone. It's genetic."
"I don't believe that blood is more important than love. At least, it wasn't in my case." He paused. "We're Brandon's parents. He knows us. He loves us on some level, and he doesn't know these other people."
"He's been with them for a few days now. And he's with his brother." She let out a painful sigh. "God, I just realized he's with his real family."
"No, he's not with his real family," Ryan said forcefully. "He's with the people who gave him up for adoption. If that's in fact who he's with; we don't know for sure." As he finished speaking, his cell phone rang. "Hello?" he said. "Yes, my wife is with me."
Her nerves tightened at his words. "Who is it?" she asked impatiently.
He held up a hand as he listened. "I understand. We'll be right there." He put down the phone and said, "That was Chief Silveira. He wants us to come down to the station. They've found some security video that may be helpful."
"Security video? Of Brandon?"
"Apparently, it's from a fast food restaurant somewhere between here and Los Angeles. He said the images are not good, and the boys are not completely identifiable, but he wants us to take a look in case it is them. He has already called Jessica. She'll meet us at the station." His gaze turned grim. "It may not be them, Nicole. This could be a false alarm."
"Or our first big break."
* * *
Ten minutes later Nicole and Ryan pulled into the police station parking lot behind Sean's green van. The four of them met up on the sidewalk, and Nicole could see the excitement and hope in Jessica's eyes that they might finally have a real clue.
As they walked toward the station, Nicole fell into step with her brother. "Sorry I bailed on you last night," she said.
He gave her a smile. "No problem. You had a lot on your mind."
"I did, but that's not really an excuse. You drove up here to help me, and—"
"And nothing," he said, cutting her off. "I don't want you to worry about me, Nicole. Brandon is your sole focus, and I am more than okay with that."
"Thanks. Did you stay with Jessica all night?" she asked, a little curious about how they were still together.
"I kept her company until she went to bed and then I slept on her couch," he said, meeting her questioning gaze. "I was going to get a hotel room, but she didn't want to be alone in the house. So I stayed."
"That was nice of you."
"I can be a nice guy," he said lightly. "And, frankly, I thought you and Ryan needed to be on your own for awhile. You were upset when you ran out yesterday, and he's the person you needed to be with."
Her brother was a pretty smart guy. "You're right. But I'm better now, and I'm ready to hear some good news."
"I hope that's what's coming," Sean said, as he followed her through the front door.
After checking in at the front desk, they were ushered into a conference room and told that Chief Silveira would be with them in a moment.
Ryan and Nicole sat down on one side of the table, Jessica and Sean on the other. For a moment there was nothing but tense silence.
Then Jessica sent Nicole a hesitant smile. "Are you feeling better today? Sean told me about Brandon, and I'm really sorry. I hope I didn't make things worse by talking on and on about Kyle."
"You didn't do anything wrong; you didn't know. I should have told you. I don't know why I didn't. I guess it just felt like too big of a story to get into. We'll talk more later."
"Whatever you want, Nicole."
They all fell silent again, the only sound in the room provided by the tick-tock of the big clock on the wall.
"Where the hell is Silveira?" Ryan muttered, his gaze darting to the door every other minute.
Nicole was wondering the same thing.
Finally the door opened, and Joe Silveira walked into the room dressed in his usual dark suit with white shirt and tie. With him was a uniformed officer, a blond, blue-eyed man, who was built like a linebacker.
"Hello, everyone," the chief said. "This is Officer Lynch."
Colin gave them a compassionate smile. "Hello. You met my wife, Kara, yesterday, and she asked me to tell you that the search goes on for who made the matching quilts. She hopes to have something for you today."
Nicole nodded, not really surprised to learn that this cop was married to Kara. There seemed to be many intersecting relationships in Angel's Bay, but it was all good. The more people who were working on the boys' behalf, the better.
Colin set a laptop computer down on the table and took a seat in front of it, while the chief stood behind him.
"All right," the chief said, pressing his fingers together. "This is what we know. Last night we got a call from a cashier at a restaurant in Carpinteria, about two hours south of here. The woman saw the boys' photos on a local news broadcast and believed that the same children had been in her restaurant yesterday, Saturday afternoon."
Nicole felt a rush of anxiety at the chief's words, and she found herself reaching for Ryan's hand. He gave her a quick look, then squeezed her fingers reassuringly as the chief continued.
"We followed up with the manager of the restaurant," the chief continued. "He was able to send us video from their security camera. Unfortunately, the identity of the boys is not
clear. That's why I asked you to come in."
Nicole bit down on her bottom lip and tried to breathe through her nerves. She wanted the chief to stop talking and play the video so she could see her son.
Joe dimmed the lights as Colin punched several keys on his computer. A minute later, a video appeared on the television screen on the wall.
Nicole squinted at the grainy images, wishing she could see more clearly. A parking lot, play structure and outside patio was visible as well as a portion of the front door leading into the restaurant. At one of the patio tables, she could see a family enjoying a meal, but there appeared to be a woman, a man and only one child. "Is that one of the kids?" she asked.
"No, watch the door," the chief replied.
Ten agonizingly slow seconds later, the front door opened. They could only see the bottom third of the doorway, but it was high enough to show two small boys walking out holding hands. They wore big gray sweatshirts that fell past their thighs, and the hoods were pulled up over their heads, hiding their hair color. Dark sunglasses covered their eyes.
Nicole's heart stopped as Colin froze the frame. "Oh, my God," she whispered. Was one of the boys Brandon?
As she studied the small figures, she was almost certain Brandon was the boy on the left. Her gaze moved down his body to the black tennis shoes and she knew. "That's him," she said. "That's Brandon on the left. He wore those shoes the day he disappeared. Oh, God. That's really him." She squeezed Ryan's hand. "That's our son."
Ryan shot her a tense, worried look. "Are you sure?"
"I'm positive," she said, meeting his gaze.
He nodded, his jaw tight. "I am, too."
Nicole looked across the table at Jessica. Her gaze was fixed on the screen.
Kyle was wearing jeans like the boy on the right," Jessica said slowly. "But I wish I could see his face."
Nicole felt the same way. She wanted to pull down the hood and yank off the sunglasses and gaze into the eyes of her son. Even if he wouldn't make eye contact with her, even if his expression was as withdrawn and dull as it always was, she would be happy, because she would be able to see him.
But she still wouldn't have him. They had a grainy video taken at a restaurant miles away. And who knew where the boys were now? There had to be another clue, some other lead to follow.
"Play the rest," she ordered.
Colin nodded. "You got it."
As the video began again, Nicole could see a pair of jean-clad legs that appeared to belong to a man just behind the boys. But they couldn't see anything above his hips.
"What the hell kind of security camera doesn't capture the entire doorway?" Ryan demanded, anger in his voice.
"The manager said that the camera's position was altered by some high winds during a big storm two weeks ago. They hadn't fixed it yet," the chief explained.
"Did the cashier tell you who the boys were with?" Ryan asked.
"She didn't wait on them at the counter, but she noticed them when they came out of the bathroom with a male, who appeared to be in his early to mid thirties. She was struck by the fact that he was dressed very much like the boys with the hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses. She thought at the time he was simply dressing his twins like him. But later when she saw the news, she wondered if the sunglasses and hoods were meant to be more of a disguise."
"Of course they were a disguise," Ryan said. "Anyone can see that. Someone should have called in the second they saw the boys."
As Ryan spoke, Nicole focused on the unseen male. It had been easier to think of the biological mother, or a woman having her little boy, than some guy. Who was he? The biological father? The biological mother's boyfriend?
She wanted more answers instead of more questions.
"Can you go back to the boys?" she asked, feeling a desperate need to look at Brandon again.
Colin rewound the video.
Nicole searched for any other detail that might be important.
"They look okay, don't you think?" Jessica asked, a hopeful note in her voice. "They're not crying. They don't look hurt. I guess that's something."
Nicole knew that Jessica was trying to find some peace in her fear, but she didn't know if she could believe Jessica's conclusion. Who knew what the oversized clothes and big sunglasses were hiding?
"They're holding hands," Ryan muttered. He looked back at Nicole. "I can't remember the last time Brandon willingly held someone's hand, can you?"
She stared at the two small hands clinging together. "No," she said. She'd had to force Brandon to take her hand sometimes, just to make sure he wouldn't suddenly dart into traffic if he got spooked when they were outside. But he never liked the contact. He always resisted her.
He wasn't resisting now. Her heart turned over at the sight.
"Maybe somewhere in Brandon's subconscious, he recognizes his brother," Ryan said.
"I guess that must be it," she said slowly.
"Kyle is very protective," Jessica put in. "He always watches out for kids who are getting picked on. It's his natural instinct. And Brandon is his brother, so he'd definitely watch out for him."
Nicole didn't want to think about Brandon getting picked on, but how could she not? If the kidnappers were going to get annoyed or frustrated with one of the kids, it would probably be Brandon.
"I wonder what Kyle and Brandon thought when they saw each other," Jessica continued. "Wouldn't it be strange to suddenly see a mirror image of yourself?"
"I don't know what Brandon would think," Nicole said. She turned to the chief, who was watching them all with sharp, perceptive eyes. "What do you think the kidnapper would tell the boys so that they wouldn't run away from him? Would he threaten them?" she asked, finding it hard to get the words out, but she had to ask the question. She needed some reassurance.
"If the kidnapper is related to the boys, then I think he'd tell them they're back with their real parent," the chief said. "If this man is their father. If he has some other relationship to their mother, maybe her friend, then he would probably bring her up. He'd point out that they look alike, that they are brothers, and that they're back together the way they were supposed to be all along. He'd probably tell them that they're now with their real family."
Nicole sucked in a quick breath, his words stabbing her like a knife to the gut.
"I'm sorry," the chief said. "I was too blunt."
"No, you were honest," she said. "Do you think they'd be threatened or hit?"
"I think it's better to focus on what we've just seen, which is two kids who do not look like they've been harmed," he said. "Speculation is not going to help."
She knew he was right, but it was difficult to stop her mind from racing to every worst possible case scenario. She was a mother. Her child was in danger. And she had to save him. That was all that made sense to her.
"What's the next move?" Ryan asked.
"The detective I sent to San Diego to dig through the attorney's records has not located any information on Kyle Schilling's adoption. On his way back up the coast, he will stop in at this restaurant and talk to the cashier and manager."
She liked the sound of that. Maybe they would remember something else.
"Before you go, can I ask you to take one more look at the video?" the chief enquired. "We don't know if the boys ate at the restaurant, or if they did, whether they were inside or outside, but it appears that someone recently left the first table on the patio. You can also see some cars in the lot. Anything else look familiar?"
Nicole watched the video as Officer Lynch played it again. "I thought I saw a white car near the school when Brandon was taken, but none of the cars in that lot are white." She frowned, wishing she could find something that the police had missed.
"Hang on," Ryan said suddenly. "Can you zoom in on the first table."
"What do you see, Ryan?" she asked.
"Crayons. And a picture."
She put a hand to her mouth, seeing what he was seeing. "Oh, my God."
"How is a kid's picture going to help us?" Jessica asked in bewilderment. "Kyle can only draw stick figures."
"Brandon has a photographic memory, and the ability to draw what he sees, what's around him, where he's been," Nicole explained. "It's what they call a savant skill. When he stopped talking, he started drawing."
Colin zoomed in on the table and brought the hand-drawn picture to full frame. Brandon had sketched two matching boys, himself and his brother, sitting side by side at a picnic table. He'd gotten every last detail right from the sweatshirts, to the sunglasses, to the different colors of their sneakers. Across from them on the table was a big set of keys and a pen that had some writing on the side.
"What does the pen say?" Ryan asked.
"Looks like Haywood Plumbing," Colin said. "A six-year-old drew this?" he asked in amazement.
"He's really good," Nicole said.
"I'll say."
"And there's a car in the picture," Nicole added, pointing to the far side of the picture. "The square license plate had a stripe of green and a round orange in the middle. On either side of the orange were two letters, J on the left and S on the right. "Can you find a car with only a partial plate?" she asked.
"We can search the databases and see how many cars match," the chief said. "That looks like a Florida plate, which could narrow things down."
"Florida," she echoed. "That's a long way from here." She'd preferred to think that Brandon wasn't too far away, but Florida was on the other side of the country.
"Well, he's not in Florida yet," Ryan said. "Not if they're driving. Not if they were in Carpinteria yesterday."
She appreciated the reminder. "You're right, but we have to find them soon, before they leave the state."
"Your little boy may have given us the break we need," the chief said as he turned the lights back on. "We'll check out the pen and the partial plate, and hope one of them takes us somewhere. I've shared this video with the San Francisco Police Department. They get everything I get and vice versa. We'll be in touch as soon as we know more." He gave them an encouraging smile. "You've all been very helpful. Thank you."
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