by Aimee Laine
“I—”
Whispered voices provided either encouragement or guidance, Wyatt didn’t know which. Sounds like these folks are breaking rank or very unorganized.
“Send her to us, and you’ll be kept out of it.”
“Doesn’t matter if you include me.” Wyatt adjusted the car to the road’s curve before he turned onto Turner Point’s upward spiral.
“Uh—” the voice said.
Wyatt grinned. These guys are amateurs.
The caller disconnected without another word. Wyatt pressed ‘1’ to speed dial his office.
“Sheila McGowan.”
“It’s Wyatt. Please run my cell tap and send the details to Cael Aldridge.”
“Right now?”
When had she ever asked before? “Yes, please.” Wyatt shook his head and hung up. A bright-red gleam caught the corner of his eye as he rounded another corner.
“What the—” He craned his neck, slamming the brakes.
The red spot bobbed to a stop.
Wyatt pulled to the side. “That was not an animal.” He put the car in reverse. It whined as he sped backward and returned to the spot where he’d first seen it. “Oh my god.”
Wyatt jumped from the car and ran around it to the edge of the forest. “Chase?”
Chase jumped from a hole and ran with nothing but socks and underwear that hung, three sizes too big, from his body. Wyatt took four leaps in his direction and caught him in one arm.
Chase fought, kicked and screamed. “Let me go!”
Wyatt kept him tight against his body but didn’t move toward his car. “Hey, buddy. I know you were taken. You’ve got to be scared. I’m not one of those guys, and I’m not here to take you back to them. I’ve been helping your—” Wyatt didn’t remember if Charley called herself mom or not. “I’ve been helping Charley, Lily, Cael, James and Sophie find you. And Stuart, too. You know Stuart?”
Chase stopped kicking but didn’t turn. Wyatt almost wished he’d continue to fight to show he hadn’t given up. Unless someone dropped him off, which Wyatt didn’t think possible, Chase had made his way from wherever he’d been. Dirty, scratched and bruised, his body smaller than Wyatt had pictured, Chase shivered in Wyatt’s arms.
“You don’t know me, and I don’t expect you to believe me. If you come back to my car, I’ll let you call Charley. Is that okay?”
Chase nodded.
Wyatt pulled him against his body to warm his chilled form—one that couldn’t weigh more than seventy pounds. The boy’s refusal to turn toward him set Wyatt’s pace at a limp.
He stepped out from the trees. “That’s my car.” He pointed with one hand but didn’t remove his arm from the boy, who hung like laundry. “I’m going to set you on the hood, since it’s warm, and I’ll get my phone from inside.”
He put Chase on the car just as he’d explained, and the boy turned away from him. Wyatt hoped he wouldn’t jump and run off. He grabbed his cell and held it out to Chase. “You can call them. I won’t even dial for you—unless you need me to.”
Chase snatched the phone and flipped it open but hid the numbers from Wyatt. “Charley?” he whispered, covering his hand over the phone’s microphone and tucking his body into himself.
Wyatt wanted to put his arms around him and hold him tight. Boney, like so many little kids who hadn’t yet filled out, had he been wet, too, Wyatt would have thought him a drenched rat.
“I’m okay. Hungry. Yes. He said his name was Wyatt.” Chase turned to Wyatt for the first time. “He’s kinda tall, sorta dark hair. Jeans. A T-shirt.” Chase cocked his head, opened his eyes wide. “I dunno. Green.”
Wyatt smiled as he moved to dig through his car for a candy bar. He often had one or two stashed inside.
“Okay,” Chase said. “Wyatt?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Charley wants to talk to you.”
Wyatt walked back to him and traded him a Snickers for the phone. Chase tore into the sugar-laden treat as soon as he let go.
“Um … hi,” Wyatt said. “Doesn’t seem worse for wear. I’m a mile away or less. Can be there in two minutes.” Wyatt closed his phone and turned to Chase, who’d added a chocolate mustache to the dirt and grime.
“You ready, buddy?”
Chase nodded at him, but his eyes twitched from the car back to Wyatt.
“You can sit up front if you promise not to tell, but first—” Wyatt grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. He balled it up and tossed it to Chase, whose eyes grew wide.
Chase scrambled off the hood, shirt in hand, and threw it over himself; it hung to his knees. He climbed into the front seat and pulled the seat belt across his scrawny frame as Wyatt did the same.
“Ready to go home, buddy?”
• • •
Charley stood on the porch in an anxiety-ridden fervor—the minutes stretching too long. She’d answered her cell with the thought that Wyatt would make his apologies for a late arrival. Instead, Chase’s voice nearly shut her mind down like when she’d seen Wyatt for the first time, again.
Was he okay? Had they taken his captors into custody? Why was he with Wyatt?
James and Cael came with her, but Lily stayed inside; she worried she’d make such a scene that it might scare Chase.
Charley spotted the car as it made the turn into their drive. She darted toward it, reached the passenger door, and flung it open as soon as Wyatt pulled to a stop. Chase scrambled out and into her arms, wrapping his scrawniness around her neck and squeezing. Charley returned the embrace with the same ferocity. Her tears mixed with his red hair, which reeked of animal.
Bastards! They will pay for leaving him like this!
She pulled his face away from her shoulder, and while he hung on like a little monkey, she rained kisses over his filthy cheeks, nose and forehead.
“Yuck!” Chase induced a laugh in all of them.
Charley pulled him back in for another hug as Wyatt came around the car. She mouthed ‘thank you’ to him as he smiled at her.
“Hey, Chase.” At James’s call, Chase scrambled into his arms for another round of hugs.
Cael’s arms reached for him, and Chase jumped from James. Still at, but behind her shoulder, Charley heard them snuggle in. She reached a hand out to Wyatt, who stepped forward, but rather than shake, Charley buried her cheek against his bare chest. She wanted to cry, scream, or have her own temper tantrum, though ‘happily ever after’ sounded far better in more than one case.
“We’ll catch them, Charley,” Wyatt whispered into her ear.
She nodded into his shoulder.
“Cael?” Chase whispered. “I did it.”
“Did what, little guy?”
“I got away.”
Chase’s quiet murmur into Cael’s ear brought a swell of pride to Charley. She pushed away from Wyatt, careful not to overextend their connection. She realized, too, that he’d given Chase his shirt. She wanted to run her hands along the planes of his chest, through the hair, down and around anywhere she’d let him. With Chase safe, her hormones kicked in tenfold.
“I am so proud of you. I think we need to call you ‘little man’ now,” Cael said with a hitch in his voice.
Tears pricked the back of Charley’s lids.
“Or little mouse,” Chase said. “I really did it. Will Charley and James be mad at me?”
Charley cocked her ear in their direction; Chase and ‘whisper’ didn’t actually work as a team.
“No way little … ah … mouse?” Cael said as a question, adding, “Let’s go inside, get some lunch—and you can tell us all about it.”
“Okay,” Chase said.
They walked back into the house. Charley, James and Wyatt remained outside.
“Did he say what I thought he said?” James asked.
“You heard it, too?” Charley turned to Wyatt. “Where did you find him?”
“Making his way up the mountain. Saw a little bright red bob in the forest as I came
around a curve. Backed up out of pure curiosity and voilà. I was as surprised as you guys seem to be.”
“Do you think the kidnappers know?” Charley asked.
“No idea,” Wyatt said. “I would imagine so, but …” He shrugged. “I got an interesting phone call on my way up—had just hung up when I saw the boy there.” Wyatt pointed toward the house. “So what exactly did he mean by ‘will you guys be mad at him?’”
Charley looked to James, who shrugged and nodded at Wyatt. “I think he transformed. But into a mouse? Really?” She shook her head at the thought. “Maybe he just thinks he did. Do we know anyone who can be an animal?” She turned to look at James.
He looked back at her. “Yes,” he said. “Just one.”
Charley drew in a quick breath and pulled her hands up to her mouth. “Oh my god!”
“Dammit.” James beat a hand against Wyatt’s car before he leaned with both hands onto the hood.
“What?” Wyatt asked, with his handsome and confused expression Charley wanted to kiss and snuggle herself into.
“Maggie can be an animal, and she left us eight and a half years ago.” James firmed his lips and turned his head skyward with his eyes closed.
Charley went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “This is good news, James.” She patted his chest, eying Wyatt from the end of the car’s hood. “I owe you for this.”
“For what? Picking him up off the side of the road? I really didn’t do anything. He’d have made it here by this afternoon at the pace he had going.” His furrowed brow and tight grimace confused Charley.
“Yes, for that. And for helping. And for not being freaked by all the weirdness.” She waved back toward the house but took a step toward him.
He backed up. “So, who’s Maggie?”
Charley shrugged. “Just a woman from long ago.” She wanted to run into his arms and thank him with her heart as well as her mind and body, but his hesitation threw her. “Um, would you like to come in? Maybe we can get more details from Chase? I’ll get you a shirt, too.”
As Wyatt stepped around her, Charley followed.
• • •
From the limited conversation, Wyatt gathered Chase’s gift had a more extraordinary level to it than anyone thought. He’d like to have asked Charley more about it, but the smiles she held and the excitement that abounded through the room at Chase’s arrival left Wyatt as an outsider looking in.
Charley’d found a T-shirt for him, which he slid over his form as a dusty, but happy, child began his tale, surrounded by family and friends.
“Um …” Chase looked around the room.
“It’s okay, Chasey.” Sophie, who’d been roused with the announcement, snuggled in to him, and Stuart wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m okay and you’re okay, so we can tell everyone what happened.” She turned first to James, then Cael.
Wyatt caught the small shrug. Her memory had not returned—that he knew.
“Well, the doorbell rang, and Sophie answered it. I thought it might be you guys, but instead it was these three big people dressed in black,” Chase said, his voice one of worry but interest as any seven or eight year old boy might have.
“How tall were they?” Wyatt asked. “Did they reach up to the art on the walls in the foyer or low by the doorknob?”
“Ummm.” Chase tapped his finger against his chin—a move Wyatt had seen Charley do on a number of occasions. “Almost to the top of the door.”
Between five and six feet, given Chase’s height and perspective as he looked up at them.
“And then they yelled for Charley, but Sophie told them you weren’t here, so they grabbed her. I tried to help.” He turned in Sophie’s arms. “I tried to help you.” His little voice cracked.
Sophie snuggled him even tighter. “You did a good job.” She winced over his shoulder as she hugged him.
“Are you sure? They didn’t break you?” he asked.
“Nope, nothing that can’t be fixed, and Mister Stuart and Lily are helping me feel better.”
Chase turned back to Charley.
“They only took Sophie with them in their big black car, but I followed them all the way down the road.” Chase dropped his head. “I’m sorry I went in the road.”
Sophie rubbed his shoulders. “That’s okay, big boy. You were just trying to help, like you said.”
“That’s when they came back and told me to get in the car so I could take care of Charley.” His eyebrows squished to the center. “But I kept telling them she wasn’t Charley, and they kept saying ‘yeah, right’, but I said they weren’t right.” Chase ran a finger under his nose. “Why did they think I wasn’t right?”
Cael chuckled. “Because they were bad guys. What happened next?”
Chase tilted his head back up but turned to James. “They didn’t make me buckle up.”
James chuckled. “Another okay, buddy-boy. You were there for Sophie, and that’s what counts the most.”
Wyatt couldn’t help the smile. The boy had clearly learned, but like a typical eight year old, he hadn’t grasped the point of the rules.
“Um … so, since Sophie was sleeping, they drove and drove and kept on going all the way over the river. I remembered the bridge—that’s why I knew where to go. You remember the bridge, Cael? When we went fishin’?”
“I do,” Cael said, his own grin mirroring Chase’s.
Wyatt mouthed to Cael, “The bridge?” Cael nodded. The kid had provided a fantastic geographic marker.
“They carried Sophie away and took me to a room with two beds and one Mickey Mouse light. There weren’t any toys, but they did bring me a samwich. Ooh! So, then there was this cute little mouse in my room, like Pops. He ran across the room a couple times, and one time the people came back to check on me, and the mouse ran in front of them. I was hiding under the bed, and they didn’t see me. They screeched like you do, Charley, when you see a mouse.” Chase’s giggle infected them all.
“The people just kept bringing me food and a couple toys, but they didn’t let me out. I was gettin’ bored, so I decided … um … to try what Cael showed me.” He tweaked his gaze to Cael again.
“Keep going. It’s okay. Charley knows I showed you.”
Chase bit his bottom lip. “So, I focused really hard on the mouse. Thought all about him and how he might walk and ’bout his whiksers—his whik—his whiskers … I tried to keep real still and think about it.” He turned to Cael. “Like you showed me how to get out of ropes and things.”
Cael nodded him forward.
“So when I was thinkin’, I did it! I got really hot, but I just kept thinking about being the mouse ’cause there was nothin’ else to do. I walked all around the room but got real tired. I think I fell asleep.”
“When did you change back to you?” Charley’s voice held a calm softness, but Wyatt could see the burn in her eyes.
“In the dark. I was kinda cold, so I thought about bein’ me again. It kinda hurt, but not as bad.” He cocked his head at them as if to say ‘it was no big deal.’
Wyatt tilted his head. The boy didn’t experience pain while transforming?
“Transformation is a very tough process,” Charley said. Her voice sounded supportive, not angry or judgmental. “Especially when you change into an animal. People are easier because you’re already one of them, but animals—very little is the same. You’re very special to be able to do that, Chase. Very, very special.” Her gaze tracked to James.
“It makes you extra sleepy, and you have to rest for a while,” James added.
“I know!” His exclamation came with excitement. Chase slid off Sophie’s lap and stood, nearly bumped her in the chin as he did. “So I did it again the next night when they told me to go to sleep, and then I stayed under the bed like the mouse—alllllll night!” He all but jumped with giddy elation.
“Didn’t they see you the next morning?” Cael asked.
“Nope!” He stood with his little arms crossed against his chest.
“They looked everywhere. While they were finding me, I went out the front door!” His smile would have warmed polar bears in a pond of freezing water.
• • •
The sound of the phone cut their conversation short. Charley whipped around to Wyatt. He flipped his cell open to speed-dial Detective Bland, who they’d not yet told about Chase’s reappearance.
“Go ahead,” Wyatt said.
She grabbed the handset from the base on the side table. Answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Is this Charley?” A flat voice, masked by the robotics of a computer, asked.
Charley’s entire body shook. “This is.”
“We will offer you a trade.” The caller took in a deep breath.
A trade? She opened her eyes wide at Wyatt, who remained in the room. Cael and James had disappeared to the office, or so Charley figured with their absence.
“Play along,” Wyatt mouthed.
Charley pressed a hitch in her voice. “Anything. You can have anything you want if you give me back my son.”
“Ah yes, the boy. We’ll return him—”
“Unharmed,” Charley interrupted.
“We’ll return him if, and only if, you meet uh—me, alone, at the arboretum as the night turns to morning of the last week day.”
Charley flipped her phone over so she could see the time. “Why not now? Why not right this fucking instant?” She pitched her voice up as if in hysterics.
The voice laughed. “You always get what you want, don’t you?” The sound turned to a sneer. “Well not this time. Friday. Midnight and no sooner. Nor later.”
“Where exactly?”
“By the gazebo, under the stars. Rain or shine, Charley. There will be no further instruction. Come alone.”
“You don’t know anything about him. He’s just a baby. Send him home, and I’ll meet you, now.” So I can kick your ass. “Do you want money? I have plenty. You can have it all. Tell me what I can do to get my son back!”
“Friday!” the voice blasted in monotone and hung up.
Despite the fact the entire conversation had been faked, Charley’s body vibrated with tension, rage and worry. “What do they want from me?”
She balled her hands into fists, pounded them against her thighs.