Innocent Lies

by Robin Patchen

  Ana, her five-year old, trailed her.

  "I told him you were running late," Marisa said. "Do you want to come in?"

  Eric glanced at Daniel, whose smile had vanished. Kids were easier to read than cereal boxes. "Thought we'd just go, if you don't mind. I'm hankering for some pizza."

  "Me, too." Daniel turned to Marisa and said, "See you later," before he bounded out the door. Halfway to the Jeep, he yelled, "You brought Magic!"

  Eric said goodbye to Marisa and followed, chuckling. "I told you I would."

  Daniel climbed in, and the dog jumped into the front and nearly licked the kid to death.

  When Eric had started the car, he said, "How hungry are you?"

  Daniel angled away from the dog, petting her behind her ears. "Not a lot. Miss Marisa makes humongous breakfasts."

  Eric turned the car toward the park. "Then I have a surprise for you."

  ERIC collapsed on a bench in the town common, and the dog collapsed on the ground beside him. Eric had been running alongside Daniel for an hour, hoping the kid wouldn't fall, snapping photos, and taking video. Magic had just barked and chased. She probably would have knocked Daniel over, if Eric hadn't kept her tethered on her leash.

  Now, both man and dog were exhausted. While Daniel pushed himself up the small hill, the one he'd been too scared to ride down when they first got there, Eric opened his photos to see what he'd captured. A lot of great pictures. Would there ever be a parent for this child, one who would treasure the photos?

  "Eric, watch!"

  Eric looked up, and Daniel pushed himself off and rode down the hill, teetering just when it got steep. Eric stood, willed Daniel not to fall, prayed he'd be safe.

  Finally, Daniel got his balance and made it to the bottom. His momentum carried him all the way to Eric.

  "Did you see? I went all the way to the top that time."

  Eric high-fived him. "Awesome job."

  "Thanks! I love my new skateboard."

  "I'm glad. And you promise to always wear your helmet?"

  Daniel answer was sarcastically patient, like he'd catapulted from eight to fourteen and found an attitude along the way. "I know, I know. Every time."

  "I don't want you to get hurt."

  "You sound like my mom."

  The boy's smile faded, and a fresh wave of rage rolled through Eric at the thought of the boy's mother. "You hungry now?"

  Daniel picked up the skateboard. "Starving. I think I could eat a whole pizza, all by myself."

  Eric chuckled. "Maybe we'll split one to start, but if you're still hungry, I'll buy you another one."

  "You will? Really?" Daniel's smile was back, and he and the dog raced to the Jeep.

  They drove the short distance to downtown Nutfield, and Eric parked a few doors down from the pizza place. The dog looked as eager as Daniel.

  "Not this time, girl." Eric patted her head and scratched behind her ears. "But I'll save you a slice."

  The dog looked forlorn when they left her in the car.

  "I feel sorry for her," Daniel said.

  "She'll curl up in the backseat and sleep. And I really will save her a slice."

  "What's her favorite kind of pizza?" Daniel asked.

  "Well, I never asked her, but I'd guess anything with meat. How about you? What's your favorite?"

  "I like hamburger and sausage and pepperoni."

  Eric couldn't help the chuckle. "I guess you and my dog have a lot in common."

  Daniel beamed in response.

  They were nearly to the pizza joint when Daniel stopped. He cupped his hands around his face to block the light and looked in the storefront window. Eric realized where they were.

  "What's that?"

  "The Nuthouse. It's a video arcade. They also have ice cream and snacks and an old-fashioned soda fountain."

  "Cool."

  Much as he longed to return to Kelsey, he didn't have the heart to refuse this boy. "We can stop in for a few minutes after pizza."

  Daniel peered up with wide eyes. "Can we? Really?"

  "After lunch, since you're starving."

  The boy's smile was as wide as Eric had seen it.

  They ordered the meaty supreme. While they waited for it, Eric took Kelsey's advice and asked Daniel if he was a Harry Potter fan.

  The boy filled him in on the series for the rest of their lunch.

  Kelsey was a genius.

  Despite his prediction, Daniel only ate two pieces. Eric ate his fill and still left a slice for the dog. "Will you let her eat it here?" Daniel asked.

  "After we go to the arcade, we'll let Magic get out of the car and scarf down her slice. It'll take about thirty seconds."

  "Really? Cool!"

  Everything was cool today. Eric paid the check, and they went next door to the arcade.

  As soon as the door opened, the sounds assaulted them. Dinging and roaring and buzzing and laughing. It smelled like a combination of homemade sweets and teenage sweat.

  They stepped in, and Eric spied Wally and Sally Price, the couple who ran the place for the church. Sally was behind the soda fountain; Wally was on the floor, chatting with the kids. He crossed the room when he saw Eric.

  He held out his hand for a shake. "What brings you in?"

  Eric introduced Daniel, who was not-so-patiently standing by his side. "Wally, meet my new friend Daniel."

  Wally held out his hand, and Daniel shook it. Eric felt a little wave of pride, as if he could claim any responsibility for the boy's good manners.

  "Pleased to meet you," Wally said. "You hungry?"

  "No, sir."

  "We just ate," Eric said. "Looking to have some fun."

  Wally pulled a handful of tokens from his pocket, looked around as if he were afraid he'd get caught, and handed them to Daniel. "My favorite is the racing game."

  Daniel took the coins, his eyes wide and bright. "Thank you, sir."

  Wally winked at Eric and walked away.

  They started with the car racing game, which Daniel was surprisingly good at. There was a first person shooter, which Eric wanted to avoid. But Daniel educated him.

  "Mama says it's okay, as long as we aren't shooting people." He pointed to the zombies on the side of the machine. "I think zombies are okay."

  Well, his monster-mama would know.

  After the zombie game, they moved on to another racing game, then played two rounds of air hockey. Eric had to be careful not to destroy the kid—air hockey was his sweet spot.

  When Daniel wanted to play a one-player game, Eric didn't complain. He stood to the side to watch.

  This place had been built as a hangout for teens, a ministry connected to the church Eric attended. Their plan had been to give the kids a safe place to congregate, and for the most part, it worked. But as Garrison's son had proved the previous summer, where there were teens, there were problems. Fights, PDAs, and drugs. Too many drugs.

  Today, though, the crowd was light and seemed well-behaved. There were a couple of boys from the youth group at the church. Eric knew them well, since he volunteered on Wednesday nights. He'd spoken with them for a few minutes when he first got there. A gaggle of girls was sitting at one of the tables, sipping sodas and checking out a small group of guys hanging around one of the first-person shooter games.

  None of them looked familiar. There was one in particular who caught Eric's eye, mostly because he'd caught the guy watching him. Five-ten, blue jeans, black jacket, nose ring, man-bun. The kid had probably pegged him for a cop, but Eric wasn't here to bust anybody. He turned back to watch Daniel play his game, stifling a yawn. Watching video games wasn't nearly as fun as playing them.

  A ruckus near the door had him turning his head.

  The guy who'd been watching him threw a punch. Another one went down. The first snatched something that had flown across the floor and ran toward the door.

  "Hey." The kid on the floor struggled to stand. "That's mine!"

  The thief pushed outside.

&nbs
p; Wally started toward the ruckus. Eric headed him off, pointed at Daniel, and said, "Watch him and call 911!"

  "I will," he said.

  Eric slammed out the door and turned in the direction the kid had gone. He was running fifty yards ahead.

  Eric followed, checking for his pistol. It was concealed beneath his jacket, as always. Didn't matter if he wasn't on duty. He was a cop, always prepared. He didn't pull it, but he unsnapped the holster, just in case.

  Eric was gaining on him. The kid ducked into an alley. Eric knew the town well enough to know the alley would dump him out on the street behind. From there, the kid could get lost behind a smattering of houses and businesses.

  He reached the alley, turned into it, and froze. Something wasn't right. The kid couldn't have gotten though the alley that fast.

  There was a black wallet on the ground.

  Eric reached for his gun, started to turn.

  Pain exploded on the back of his head, and he went down, barely catching himself before his face landed on the pavement.

  Someone straddled him, pressed his head against the asphalt. All Eric saw was black pants.

  The kid had been wearing blue jeans.

  Eric didn't move. He couldn't move. The pain in his head was excruciating. He fought to remain conscious.

  "You with me?" The voice was deep, gravely. Definitely not a kid. A man.

  Eric remained silent.

  "Answer me. You with me?"

  "Who are you?"

  "Listen." The man spoke fast. "Carlos is coming. Kelsey needs to grab the kid and run, before he gets here."

  Kid? What kid? "There's no—"

  "Keep your friends at the PD out of this. Carlos is coming. Tell her to run. Today."

  The man lifted Eric's head and smashed it on the pavement.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Vanessa still hadn't told Carlos her news.

  She'd planned to tell him the day before, but he'd been focused on Kelsey and her child, and Vanessa didn't want her news to be overshadowed. And even if she'd wanted to, Carlos might as well have forgotten she existed. He and Mateo had spent hours going over the little information she'd given them, trying to formulate a plan.

  Carlos didn't fly commercial. He had a charter company he liked and a couple of pilots he trusted. This plane was smaller than the one they'd taken from Europe. It had twelve seats, but a couple of them converted to tables. Carlos and Vanessa sat across from each other, him by the aisle, her by the window, so they wouldn't have to share legroom. They converted the seats beside them to tables.

  She hadn't asked about Mateo, and Carlos hadn't mentioned bringing his closest friend and confidant on the trip. She willed the door to close and hoped Mateo wouldn't be joining them.

  "Grab me a water, would you?" Carlos said.

  She stood, made her way along the narrow aisle to the back, and dug around in the tiny compartment the copilot had pointed out, looking for the cooler. Finally, she found it and wrenched it open. She was reaching into the icy water when she heard a voice at the front. Sounded like, "Welcome aboard."

  The answering "Thank you" told her she'd been foolish to hope. Of course Mateo was joining them.

  She pulled a third bottle out, pasted on a smile, and turned. "Water, Mateo?"

  "Sure." He sat in the place she'd chosen for herself. Carlos either didn't notice or didn't care the man was taking her seat.

  Vanessa returned with the waters, handed them out, and set hers on the table beside Mateo's seat. "Convert that to a chair for me, would you?" She addressed Mateo, who gave her a tight smile.

  Did he have the nerve to refuse, with Carlos right there?

  He nodded once. Battle won, she said, "Does either of you want a snack, as long as I'm up? They have bagels and pastries."

  Carlos didn't look up from his phone when he answered. "Bagel with cream cheese."

  "What kind of pastries?" Mateo asked.

  She checked, listed his options. He chose an apple danish.

  She got the bagel, spread the cream cheese on it, and delivered it to Carlos, then retrieved her pastry and Mateo's before she returned to her seat. Normally, she would never eat such a high-calorie breakfast, but she was very hungry lately. Must be the little one needed more calories.

  She sat beside Mateo, across from Carlos, and nibbled her breakfast until they took off.

  Vanessa'd always imagined private jets to be wide and luxurious, but the two she'd been on were cramped. She couldn't imagine what it would be like if all the seats were occupied. Of course, with the animosity between her and Mateo, the three of them all mashed together seemed to fill the plane. Mateo never tired of reminding Carlos what had happened the last time he'd trusted a woman. Kelsey had put a lot of Carlos's men in prison, Mateo included, though his stint had been short. Mateo didn't trust Vanessa, and Vanessa didn't trust him. Neither would voice their fears about the other to Carlos. He'd chosen them both, and neither was willing to test his loyalty.

  When they were airborne, Carlos looked up from his phone. She'd never forget the first time she'd seen him. She'd been standing behind Abbas—always a few feet behind, like a well-trained pet. Carlos had walked into the private room in the large casino as if he owned the place. Dark hair, dark eyes, and that deep voice with his Spanish accent. Vanessa had never developed a true desire for men—that had been pounded out of her long before she'd been old enough to understand what desire event meant—but Carlos had been impressive. She'd never forgotten how he'd met the eyes of every man in the room, then turned specifically to her and nodded.

  His attention had earned a painful pinch from one of Abbas's guards, as if she'd caused Carlos to notice her.

  Well, maybe she had. She didn't know how to be invisible. Nobody'd ever asked that of her before.

  And then, when Carlos ran the table and took all of Abbas's money, it was Carlos who suggested he throw Vanessa into the pot.

  Abbas had been furious. Oh, his words had been respectful, laughing, even, but she knew his posture, the way he held his back, the way his neck turned red when he was angry. Backed into a corner, Abbas hadn't known how to offer something else instead. That would mean that she mattered to him, and a man like Abbas wouldn't let on that he believed a woman worth anything.

  He'd flicked his hand as if she were no more valuable than one of his chips.

  When Carlos won the hand, he stood, filled his pockets with the kitty, and had one of his guards grab her.

  She'd felt Abbas's glare as they'd walked out of the room. And she'd been devoted to Carlos ever since.

  "I got three of our most trusted men on a commercial flight," Mateo said.

  More men. Vanessa would be pushed aside by the sheer numbers.

  "Sí," Carlos said. "Good, good."

  When the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Carlos grabbed his phone, put it on speaker, and dialed his man in New Hampshire. Vanessa took notes about the conversation while Carlos and Mateo questioned him.

  He had no new information except that Nolan had taken a kid to get pizza that afternoon.

  Carlos's eyes got wide. "How old? What did he look like?"

  "He looked about eight. I heard it was a foster kid," Durant said. "Nolan hangs out with local kids a lot, even volunteers at his church. He's a freaking Boy Scout."

  "You're sure it's a foster kid?" Carlos said. "How can you be sure?"

  "I'm not sure. I just said, I heard it. It's not like I got the kid's fingerprints. I can tell you, they weren't making any attempt to stay hidden. They went to the park to skateboard, then got pizza, then went to the arcade. Probably a hundred people saw them. If it was your kid, don't you think he'd have been more careful?"

  The man made a good point. Probably, that kid had nothing to do with anything. "Did you see where he picked the child up?"

  "Nope. Just saw them get into town."

  "You're supposed to be watching—"

  "Nolan knows my car. I have to be careful."

/>   "Rent another one," Carlos said.

  "This is a small town, Carlos. And Eric's a cop. He'd notice a tail, no matter what kind of car it was."

  Vanessa wasn't sure if she should be frustrated or relieved they didn't know where the kid was. She didn't want her child to have to compete with anybody, certainly not a boy ten years his senior.

  Carlos sat back in his seat and spoke to the phone. "What else?"

  "Nothing right now. No sign of Kelsey's kid."

  "My kid."

  "Right. That's what I meant. Anyway, no sign of him. Or her."

  Carlos hung up and spoke to Mateo. "Not much."

  Mateo glanced at her, then focused on Carlos. "You should just let this go, my friend."

  "He's my kid. And she put you in prison. I'd think if anyone wanted revenge, it should be you."

  Mateo shrugged. "It is water under the bridge now. No good can come of you finding her."

  "You don't think it would be good to find my own kid?"

  Mateo's gray head bobbed up and down, slowly, as if he were thinking carefully, choosing his next words carefully. "He is your child, I know. But he doesn't know you, and you don't know him. She has probably turned him against you. Taking the child will not be good for him."

  Carlos flicked away his argument like a fly. "He's my son."

  "Or daughter," Mateo said gently.

  "All the more reason for me to know. A daughter will need my protection."

  "And the woman?" Mateo asked.

  "Kelsey will be sorry for the way she crossed me."

  Mateo bowed his head, almost a nod that stayed low too long. No wonder Carlos liked this guy—Mateo treated him like royalty. And that he was, but she and Mateo knew Carlos's kindness would not last if either of them crossed him.

  Mateo turned to Vanessa. "What did you tell the PI you hired?"

  She addressed Carlos. "I told him that your girlfriend was pregnant, and that she took off years ago, and that you want to meet your child."

  Carlos nodded. "Good. Good."

  She glanced at Mateo, who'd already started dialing. He put the phone on speaker, and Vanessa took notes as the man spoke. He had a deep and businesslike tone, very different from Barry Durant's. He gave them names, addresses, and phone numbers of people Nolan had had contact with the previous day.