by Irene Hannon
“No.” Kate broke off a bite of cookie and settled in. Pauline’s stories might seem off-topic at first, but they always had a point.
“It was many years ago now, but I remember it clearly. We set out to see the second-highest sea cliffs in Ireland. But it was a misty day, and we had trouble finding the trailhead. After a lot of driving in circles, we came across a spot on the side of a barren, sheep-covered hillside that appeared to be it. There was one other car parked there, which convinced us to give it a try.
“Well, not ten minutes down the goat path that passed for a trail, we came upon another couple heading toward us out of the mist. We struck up a conversation, and you know what? Not only were they Americans, they lived ten minutes away from us. What on earth do you think the odds are that two American couples who were almost neighbors would run into each other in such a remote part of the world?”
“Infinitesimal.”
“Exactly. So we agreed to exchange names and phone numbers and get in touch once we returned home—and that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Even though Charles is gone and they’ve moved to Florida, we stay in close touch. And it all started as a result of a strange coincidence that perhaps wasn’t a coincidence at all. Thanks to experiences like that, I’ve learned never to discount possibilities because of the odds—because all things are possible with God.”
Kate knitted her fingers together. Tight. “Does that mean . . . do you actually think that boy could . . .” She blew out a breath. “Other than the PI I hired, everyone who heard the story at mall security and in the police department thinks it’s crazy.”
“Do you think it’s crazy?”
“Logically, yes. Kevin’s been gone for three years, Pauline.”
“What does your heart say?”
At the woman’s gentle question, her fingers tightened on the cup. She whispered her response, almost afraid to voice the words. “It says maybe.”
“And what does your PI—this Connor—say?”
“He’s skeptical. He warned me not to get my hopes up, and that the odds of finding the boy weren’t in our favor.”
“But he took the case.”
“I’m paying him.”
“Does he strike you as the kind of man who would take money for a job he knew he had no chance of completing?”
Good question.
“No.” Kate slowly shook her head, then spoke with more confidence. “No, I don’t think so. I’m sure he believes there’s a possibility he can identify the boy. But even if he does, it’s a huge leap to think that boy could be Kevin.”
“Why not take this one step at a time? Wait and see what he discovers at the mall. If it ends there, so be it. But I’ve always been pretty good at assessing people, even if I don’t have a fancy degree like you do.” Pauline winked and patted her hand. “You’re a very level-headed young woman. Running into a boy who reminded you of Kevin, as upsetting as that might be, wouldn’t send you into a tailspin. However, throw in the poppysicle reference, the fact that he turned when you called his name, the recognition you thought you saw on his face—I think you’re doing the right thing by having this Connor try to find him. Do you think he’s competent?”
“Very. He used to be a Secret Service agent. I have a feeling if he can’t get to the bottom of this, no one can.”
“Then there you go. No more reason to fret. Just put it in God’s hands and trust things will work out.”
Kate sighed and reached for a paper napkin to mop up the tea she’d managed to spill in the bottom of her saucer. “Easier said than done—and I speak from experience.”
“I know you do. But despite everything that’s happened, you’ve hung on to your faith. You keep hanging on and you’ll be fine.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Absolutely. You, my dear, are a survivor. Now”—Pauline picked up her cup—“let’s drink this before it gets cold while I tell you about the show I saw at the Muny last night.”
Somehow, Pauline managed to distract her while they finished their tea and snack. And by the time they walked out to their cars and parted in the parking lot with a hug—along with a cheery “See you Thursday morning” from Pauline—Kate’s spirits were once again on the rise.
That could be short-lived, of course, depending on what Connor had to report. But until then, she was going to let the tiny ember of hope keep burning.
Even if, in the end, it flickered and died, leaving her heart colder than before.
5
Hey . . . just saw your email. What���s this about a pretexting gig?” Nikki stuck her head in Connor’s office, mug in hand.
He waved her into a chair. “You up for it?”
“Always.” She sat. “Does this involve your new client?”
“Yep.”
“You found something at the mall yesterday?”
“Not much. But before I let this go, I want to follow up on every possible lead.” He brought her up to speed on the case. “Unfortunately, there was nothing in the security camera feeds to ID the boy or the man. However, I did spot them coming out of the Build-A-Bear store. No bag in hand, so I’m assuming they didn’t make a purchase, but it’s possible a clerk might remember them. If we can find someone who was there last Friday, and if you chat her up, maybe she’ll pass on a piece of information that might be helpful.”
Nikki crossed her legs. “That’s a lot of it’s possibles, ifs, maybes, and might bes.”
Like he didn’t know that.
“It’s all I’ve got. If I come up blank here, the case is over.”
“No pressure there.” She took a sip of her tea. “What does the little boy look like?”
He pulled the screen grab out of the folder and handed it over.
“Cute kid.”
“I never got a decent view of the father, but he was wearing a red Cardinals baseball cap, T-shirt, and jeans. Based on his build, my guess is he either works out or has a manual labor job.”
She nodded and set the printout on the desk. “What kind of pretext did you have in mind?”
“How about this—your husband took your son to their store Friday, and somewhere in the mall your little boy managed to lose his backpack. You’re hoping it’s at Build-A-Bear.”
“The mother act, huh? Might work. And not bad practice, either.” She delivered the last line looking straight at him, her eyes twinkling.
It took a second for her meaning to register, and when it did, he grinned. “You’re pregnant.”
“Give the man a gold star.”
“That’s great, Nikki.” If anyone deserved a happy domestic life, it was the woman across from him. Maybe this would help make up for her own abusive childhood and fractured family. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. Me too.”
“Did you tell Cal and Dev yet?”
“I shared the news with Cal yesterday. I’ll get to Dev sometime today. So back to the matter at hand . . . I’ll give it a try. You do realize, though, that this is probably going to be an exercise in futility. There’s a steady parade of kids in and out of a store like that. There’s not much chance a busy clerk will remember one in particular.”
“Yeah. But it’s worth a call at least. Let me close the door, then I’ll put the phone on speaker.”
“I’ve got it.” She rose and crossed toward the hall. “You dial.”
Connor tapped in the number, worked his way through the automated menu, pressed zero for a live person, and leaned back in his chair as Nikki took her own seat.
“West County Center Build-A-Bear. This is Carolyn. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Carolyn. I may be on a wild-goose chase, but I’m trying to track down a Spiderman backpack my son left somewhere at the mall on Friday.” Nikki’s tone was conversational, friendly, chatty. Perfect. “He and my husband were in your store around lunchtime, and I wondered if he might have forgotten it there.”
“I didn’t work Friday, but I’ll be happy to check our lost and
found.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
As she sipped her tea, Connor throttled back the urge to offer advice about how to proceed when the woman came back with a negative report. Nikki’s instincts and her ability to think on her feet were solid, and she’d never let him down on one of these playacting assignments. No reason to think she’d start now.
“Are you still there, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry . . . I’m not seeing any backpacks. Have you talked to the main lost and found for the mall?”
“Not yet. I thought it might be easier to begin with a place I knew they visited.” She let out a protracted sigh that would be clearly audible on the other end of the line. “Is there, by chance, someone working today who was on duty Friday? I know it’s a long shot, but if there is, maybe she noticed whether he had the backpack with him when he came into the store. It might help me get a better handle on when and where he lost it.”
“Well . . . I think Rachel might have been here. Can you hold another minute?”
“Sure.”
Connor gave Nikki a thumbs-up and mouthed “way to go.” Talking to someone who’d been on duty Friday had been the whole point, and she’d maneuvered herself there smoothly.
Thirty seconds later, another woman’s voice spoke. “This is Rachel. May I help you?”
“Hi, Rachel.” Nikki replayed her script. “So I’m wondering if you might remember seeing him, and perhaps noticing whether he had his backpack with him while he was in the store. I hate to bother you with this, but the backpack was brand-new and my husband is so not into noticing details like whether my son has all his stuff with him—or wears matching socks. I didn’t even realize it was gone until today.”
The other woman laughed. Masterful. Nikki could build rapport even faster than she came up with zingers to lob at Dev.
“I hear you. I don’t know if I can help, but maybe if you describe your son, it might ring some bells.”
Nikki picked up the printout. “He’s almost seven. Blond. On the slight side. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt. And my husband was wearing a Cardinals baseball cap.”
“I’m sorry . . . that’s not triggering anything. We were overrun with kids Friday—two birthday parties. Was he at one of those?”
Nikki darted him a quick glance. “Yes, he was.”
“Was it the Garber party? That was around noon.”
He grabbed his pen and jotted down the name.
“Yes.”
“I helped at that one . . . and now that I think about it, there was a blond boy in the group. I noticed him because he was on the quiet side. You know, you might want to call the mother who hosted the party. If your son had his backpack with him when he arrived, one of the other kids could have picked it up by mistake.”
“I’ll do that. The last name was G-a-r-b-e-r, correct? I threw away the invitation and I don’t know all the parents from daycare.”
“Hold a sec.” Silence on the line, followed by the clack of keys. “Yes. That’s the correct spelling. Linda Garber.”
Connor wrote down the first name.
“Perfect. Thanks so much for your help.”
“No problem. I hope you find it.”
Connor killed the connection. “Nice work.”
She shook her head. “Don’t get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee she had the right kid in mind. Lots of little boys are blond. And didn’t you say neither the man or boy was carrying a shopping bag?”
“That’s right.”
“Most of the time at those parties the kids build a bear and take it home with them.”
That wasn’t the best news he’d heard all day. Perhaps the duo had stopped in simply to window-shop after all.
He frowned and tapped his pen against the notepad. “There could be some reason the boy didn’t have it in hand.” Nikki’s skeptical expression suggested the odds of that were slim, but already he was turning over next-step scenarios. “I’ll give this a little more thought before I call Kate.”
Nikki rose and moved to the door. Stopped. Angled toward him. “For what it’s worth, your new client didn’t strike me as the type who overreacts. It might not hurt to make a few phone calls. How many Garbers can there be in the phone book?”
“I was already thinking along those lines.”
“I figured you were. You want me to peruse the phone listings while you and Cal are at the executive security meeting this morning? I could make a few preliminary calls, see if I can find the right Garber.”
“Do you have time?”
“I’ll have to push Dev’s filing down on my to-do list, but that’s no hardship.”
“Then give it a shot.”
“You got it.”
As she exited, he leaned back in his chair, rolling his pen between his fingers. Maybe they’d hit pay dirt with one of the Garbers . . . but that was a big maybe.
Meaning much as he wanted to help Kate, if this didn’t pan out, they were at the end of the road.
“Hey, Dad, I got my bear today! Lindsey’s mom finally remembered to bring it.”
At Todd’s exuberant greeting, Greg took his son’s hand and looked down at the Build-A-Bear shopping bag as they exited the daycare facility.
The thing turned his stomach.
Who could have fathomed a simple, innocent kid’s birthday party would shake the foundation of his world?
“You want to see it?” Todd beamed up at him.
“Sure. But let’s get in the truck first.”
Sixty seconds later, as his son buckled himself into the car seat, Greg circled around, slid behind the wheel—and took a calming breath. Things could have turned out worse. If Linda Garber had been taking her daughter back to daycare after the party instead of heading home to pack for vacation, Todd wouldn’t have needed to be picked up. Instead, he’d have been with Linda and Lindsey. What if Kate had spotted him then—and approached Linda?
He suppressed a shudder.
Using his brief lunch hour to rush to the mall to pick up Todd may not have been convenient—but in the end, it had averted disaster.
He hoped.
“Whaddaya think, Dad?”
Resting an elbow on the back of his seat, Greg angled sideways and studied the bear, which sported a Cardinals baseball uniform and cap. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah.” Todd tucked the bear next to him. “I wish I could have taken it with me the day of the party.”
“But it was thoughtful of Mrs. Garber to offer to go back to the mall and pick it up after the lady at the shop found that ripped seam.” Greg shifted around to face front, put the pickup in gear, and pulled away from the daycare center.
A few seconds of silence passed. “Do you think we might go back to that mall sometime too?”
A thrum of tension began to pulsate in his temples. “Why?”
“If we did, I might see that lady from the escalator again.”
Five days, and still Todd wasn’t letting the incident go.
“There’s not much chance of that. It’s a big place, and lots of people go there every day.”
“Yeah.” The car grew silent again, and Greg could almost hear the gears turning in his son’s head. “Do you think I might have known her when I was a baby? Before I was adopted?”
His gut twisted. “You would have been too little to remember that far back, champ.”
“I guess.”
But he didn’t sound convinced.
Not for the first time, Greg wondered if he’d made a mistake telling Todd he was adopted. After a lot of deliberation, though, it had seemed the safest choice on the off chance he ever ran into anyone from his old life who knew his history.
But he’d never expected to run into someone who knew Todd’s history.
“I wish I had a mom.”
At the forlorn comment, Greg tightened his grip on the wheel and merged onto the highway, heading toward the rental house they now called home—and regrett
ing anew the day he’d decided it was finally safe to leave Montana.
“I wish you did too, champ.” His throat tightened, and he forced himself to inhale. Even after five years, the pain of Jen’s loss could overwhelm him.
“If you got married again, I’d have a mom, right?”
“Yeah. But we just moved here, and we need to settle in before we make any more big changes in our lives.” Sweat beaded above his upper lip, and he tried to amp up the air conditioner. No go. It was already running at full blast.
But it sure didn’t feel like it.
“I like Diane. She’s nice.”
At his son’s hopeful tone, Greg pried his fingers off the wheel and flexed them to get the blood flowing again. It wasn’t difficult to follow the youngster’s train of thought. “Yes, she is.”
“How come we didn’t have pizza with her last Saturday, like we usually do?”
“I told you already. My stomach was upset.”
“Is it better now?”
Hardly.
“It’s getting there.”
“So are we going to have pizza with her this Saturday?”
A police cruiser loomed ahead, watching from the shoulder for speeders. He eased back on the accelerator. The last thing he needed was a run-in with the cops.
“Dad? Are we?”
That had been the plan. Now he wasn’t certain.
“I don’t know yet.”
“How come?”
“Look, let it go, Todd. I had a long day and I’m tired. We’ll talk about it later.” He hadn’t planned to raise his voice. Or sound aggravated. But that’s the way the comment came out.
Silence from the backseat.
He flicked a glance into the rearview mirror. Todd had picked up his Cardinals bear and was hugging him close, his face scrunched. Like he was going to cry.
Greg bit back an oath. All these years, he’d never once spoken to Todd in anger. He’d cherished him and nurtured him and had never, ever been unkind, even when administering necessary discipline. He treasured his son too much to ever hurt him.
But now, thanks to the stupid fluke in the mall that had put him on edge, he was taking out his fear on his child.