by Lisa Harris
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“Try. Please. At least try to explain.”
“I... I planned to tell you, but you’d just broken up with me when I found out, and told me you weren’t interested in marriage and a family.” Claire was sobbing now. “I was convinced that I’d never know if you were staying with me because you loved me or out of a sense of duty.”
“I’m just as responsible for what happened as you are. I wouldn’t have walked out on you, Claire.”
“But you already had.”
He paused in front of her, then sat down. “I’m sorry.”
Claire brushed away the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. “I wanted to pick up the phone a hundred times, but then Owen was born, and time passed, and the more time that went by, the harder it was to even think about calling and telling you.”
“I want to meet him when this is over.”
She nodded. “Of course, but I need to talk to Owen about you first.”
“What have you told him about me?”
“He hasn’t asked many questions yet, though I know the day is coming. Eventually I knew I would have to tell him the truth.”
Her stomach cinched. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking at the moment. Guilt tangled up inside her and pulled tight. She wasn’t surprised he wanted to see Owen, but then what? She couldn’t expect this to end like some happily ever after fairy tale. He might have kissed her last night, but that had simply been because of lingering feelings that had not completely died out. And that wasn’t going to be enough.
Reid clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward. “I just wish... I wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me. To believe that I would have been there for you.”
“I wanted you to love me because of who I was, not because of a sense of duty or responsibility.”
He turned and caught her gaze. “But you didn’t give me a chance. You made that decision for me. That was a decision only I could make.”
Claire’s phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket, checking the caller ID. It was her mother. “I need to get this.”
“Of course.”
“Claire?”
“Mom...” Claire could tell her mother was crying. “What’s wrong?”
There was a short pause on the line. “Claire... Owen’s gone.”
ELEVEN
Claire’s hand shook as she hit Speaker so Reid could hear the call. Her mind fought to process the implications. This couldn’t be happening. Not Owen...not her baby...he couldn’t be missing. He was supposed to be with her mother. Safe.
“M-Mom... Mom slow down,” Claire stuttered, her heart racing. “What happened?”
“We decided to have tacos for lunch at one of the food trucks. You know how much he loves those. I turned away for just a couple seconds to pay and then he was gone.”
“Mom...he has to be there. He probably just wandered off. He’s curious.”
There had to be a reasonable explanation, something that could make sense out of this nightmare enveloping her.
“You don’t understand, Claire. Someone took him. I saw them.”
She saw them?
“Did you call the police?” Claire asked.
“Of course. I’m here at the station now, but Claire...”
Reid grabbed her elbow and steered her toward her car. “I’m driving you to Denver. Now.”
“Who is that?” her mom asked.
“I’m with Reid. He’ll drive me. Send me the address of the station. We’ll be there as fast as possible.”
As she followed Reid to the car, she thought how ironic it was that the father she’d kept from her child was now the one helping her find Owen. She never should have done this to Reid. It seemed so wrong now for her to have stolen that from him. But none of it mattered at the moment. The only thing that mattered was Owen.
Reid unlocked the vehicle, then quickly started the engine as she sat and buckled in.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Forget about all of that for now. Let’s just concentrate on finding our son.”
Our son.
Her fingers pressed into the armrest as Reid peeled out of the parking lot and headed toward the highway.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“That this is somehow related to what is going on here? That this is all my fault?”
“Your fault? No. Why would this be your fault?”
“If someone’s after me... Why didn’t I realize they could get my family involved? I thought Owen would be safe. He’s a hundred miles away and our arsonist... I thought our arsonist was here in town.”
“I don’t understand either, but there has to be a connection.”
She picked up her phone and showed him her screen saver. “This is Owen.”
Despite the anger she knew he had to feel, a smile crossed his lips. “He looks just like his mother.”
“He’s got his father’s eyes.” Her chest squeezed tighter. “What do they want, Reid? There haven’t been any ransom demands yet. Or any threats. How can we fight someone when we have no idea who they are or what they want?”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I don’t know, but I have no plans to lose my son just when I found him.”
She started crying quietly as the reality of what had happened seeped through her. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t imagine how terrified Owen had to be, wherever he was. She’d always hated leaving him, and rarely left him with anyone other than her mother, who’d always helped Claire navigate life as a single mom.
In fact, the only thing they’d really disagreed on was telling Reid. And while Claire ended up going along with her mother, she’d never been a hundred percent sure she was making the right decision. Weeks and months had gone by, though, and the more time that passed, the easier it had been to justify her decision. But now Reid knew, and she had no idea what he was really thinking. Or if he’d even had time to start processing what she’d told him.
She drew in a breath and pushed back the tears. She needed to do something tangible to keep her mind busy. If she didn’t, she’d end up going mad.
“What would be the motivation for the arsonist to take him?” she asked Reid. For the moment, she was going to go with the assumption that the Rocky Mountain Arsonist was behind this.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” Reid said. “I keep thinking about how some arsonists start fires for notoriety and a sense of control.”
“That fits the profile.”
“Even if their name isn’t known, there’s still the satisfaction of watching the fire burn on the television or at the scene. You’ve worked hard to keep these cases under the radar as much as you can, so the fires might not be getting the attention he or she wants. Think about how much news time a story would get if the lead arson investigator died in a fire set by the arsonist she’s after. Or if her son was kidnapped. Both would hit the headlines.”
Claire shuddered at the thought. It sounded impossible, but was it? Was this a situation where someone was angry because she was refusing to give him—or her—the airtime they wanted?
“What about the drone and your car flipping?” she asked. “I still can’t see how it all fits together.”
“I’m not sure, but it all has to be connected to the case.”
“So someone is trying to get my attention.” She stared out at the snow-covered ground and lines of trees. “If that’s what they’re shooting for, they’re doing a pretty good job. I just wish they’d tell me what they want so at least I have something tangible to work with.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”
“It’s the not knowing where Owen is that terrifies me. I just... I don’t know how to fe
el, Reid.”
“Tell me about Owen.”
She let out a sharp breath at the shift in the conversation. More than likely it was because he truly wanted to know, but she also had a feeling he wanted to distract her. She owed him far more than just a description, but it was a start.
“He’s never been big on toys, but he loves just hanging out with me or my mother. We love playing board games and reading together. He’s into telling jokes—ones that don’t always make sense, but that always make me laugh. This year we planted a garden in my mom’s backyard and he had his own section because he wanted to grow tomatoes for pizza. He loves pizza. He has a bug collection, and a rock collection, and we try to go hiking or fishing as much as possible when the weather’s good. I’ve promised him we’ll ski for the first time this winter. I have a feeling he’ll be outmaneuvering me before I know it. He also loves playing football, though I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to get into the whole team experience.”
“You’re a great mom. I can tell.”
“A great mom would tell the father he had a son.”
“I’m not going to lie,” he said, after a short pause. “I’m struggling with all of this and admittedly still pretty mad at you for not telling me. I feel like I’ve lost so much from not knowing the truth. But being angry at you isn’t going to change anything. Especially right now. I just... I just hope you’ll let me in your life now.”
His words cut deep, but she couldn’t blame him. “You have every right to be mad.”
“Let’s just focus on finding him. We’ll have plenty of time later to figure out what this means and how this is going to work.”
She studied his profile, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, jaw tensed, brow furrowed. There was no way to go back and change the past, but maybe, just maybe, she’d been wrong and they could find a way to parent together.
And that might be what scared her the most—having Reid back in her life. She’d somehow convinced herself that he wouldn’t care about Owen and telling him would simply make both their lives more difficult. Believing that had helped to ease her guilt when she’d clung to the idea that Owen didn’t need a father in his life. At least, not one who didn’t care about Owen. Sharing custody had always been her greatest fear, and not something she wanted for her son. He deserved a stable home, and yet she couldn’t exactly run from the consequences of her decisions. She’d done that for far too long.
“I feel like I’ve created a mess,” she said.
“We created a boy who needs us to love him. The rest will somehow fall into place.”
She stared out the window, wishing he’d do anything but sit calmly next to her. It was a scene she’d played out in her mind over and over, but never under these circumstances, not in a nightmare where she lost Owen. And now they were going to have to do everything in their power to find their son.
* * *
Reid drove into the parking lot of the precinct in South Denver, then pulled into an empty parking space. Claire jumped out of the car before he’d even had a chance to turn off the engine. He quickly grabbed his phone and wallet and hurried after her, wishing he could help her more. But there was nothing he could say that could fix this. All he could do was pray that they find Owen.
Her son.
Their son.
Claire’s mother was sitting in a back office of the station, waiting for them. The older woman looked a lot like her daughter, except for the additional hard lines around her mouth and eyes. If the reunion had been under different circumstances, he would have worried about her reaction to seeing him. Undoubtedly, the woman had never wanted him to be a part of her grandson’s life and had been a vocal part in Claire’s decision to keep him out of her life.
He breathed in the smell of coffee and felt his stomach turn. He hadn’t even had time to wrap his head around the situation, but somehow the fact that their son was missing had managed to erase some of the anger he felt toward Claire. Not that he wasn’t still mad at her for not telling him the truth earlier, but he knew he couldn’t be focused on that right now. All that really mattered was finding Owen and catching whoever was behind this nightmare.
“Mom...” Claire pulled her mother into a hug, then stepped back between Reid and her mother. “You remember Reid.”
“Of course.” Anne Holiday wiped her puffy eyes. “It’s been a long time.”
He couldn’t imagine what she had to be going through. While it wasn’t her fault, the woman had to feel responsible for Owen’s disappearance. He also knew she’d rather not be talking to him. It wouldn’t matter to her that their mistakes had been consensual. Instead, he was the man who’d gotten her daughter pregnant. He shoved back the feelings and shook her hand.
“It’s good to see you, though I wish the circumstances were different,” he said.
“I wish they were different, as well.” Her mother pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, trying to push back sobs. “Claire... I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this happened. When I went to grab us lunch, he was right behind me. Owen knows not to go anywhere with strangers, and yet... I don’t know what happened. I turned around and he...he was getting into another vehicle. And I couldn’t stop him.”
Anne started sobbing again.
Claire pulled her mother against her. “It’s not your fault, Mom. We’re going to find him.”
A detective walked up to them and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Detective Jennifer Kaufman. If the three of you will please take a seat at my desk...”
“I’m Claire Holiday, Owen’s mother,” Claire said as the three of them sat down at the cluttered desk in the back of the room. “This is Reid O’Callaghan. He’s a friend from Timber Falls who drove me here. Tell me what we need to do to find my boy.”
Reid’s jaw tensed. He wanted to interrupt and say that he wasn’t just a friend, but the father of the missing boy. Which sounded ridiculous. How could he have such strong feelings for a child he hadn’t even known existed until a few hours ago?
“We’re going to need to move as quickly as possible,” the detective said, “but right now we don’t have very much information other than what your mother was able to give me.”
“Tell me what you need to know,” Claire said. “We’ll cooperate completely. Just please...tell us what we need to do to find my boy.”
“Your mother said that Owen’s father isn’t in your life,” Detective Kaufman said. “Could this be a custody issue?”
“No, actually.” Claire paused. “His father hasn’t known about Owen.”
The detective leaned forward. “You never told the father?”
Clare hesitated, glancing at Reid. “No. Not...not until today.”
Reid’s fingers gripped the sides of the chair he sat on. The room felt hot. Too hot. “I’m the father.”
“You’re Owen’s father?”
Reid slipped off his jacket. “I am.”
“And you just found out today?”
“Look, I get where you’re going with all of this,” Claire said, “but you’re looking at the situation all wrong.”
“She’s right—” Reid started.
“Maybe, but the fact that a child goes missing the same day the father found out sounds...a bit off to me. Sounds very off, actually.”
“Are you serious?” Claire said. “A little boy is missing. I’m telling you that his father—that Reid—had nothing to do with it. And there is no time to argue.”
“Except that most children are taken by one of their parents in cases like this.”
“Not this time.” Claire pulled her badge out of her pocket and slammed it against the table. “Call my boss, or his, or both. I’m a fire inspector and have been working down in Timber Falls on a case. Reid O’Callaghan happens to work for the fire department there and has been helping with the case against the Rocky
Mountain Arsonist. Right or wrong, we were split up right before I found out I was pregnant, and I chose not to tell Reid. But Timber Falls is a small town and he found out, which was probably inevitable, but not until after Owen had already been kidnapped. The bottom line is that there’s a very good chance my son is missing because of this arsonist, which makes finding him critical.”
Detective Kaufman frowned. “I’ll need their phone numbers to verify your story.”
“Of course.” Claire took the pen and paper the detective handed her and scribbled down the numbers. “Please hurry. I can assure you that Reid had nothing to do with it. We need to find Owen, which means focusing on the connection between my case and his disappearance.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Claire nodded, then turned to Reid. “I’m sorry they think you’re somehow involved in this.”
“It’s fine. They have to look at every angle.”
“Yes, but they’re wasting time.”
Claire’s mom leaned forward. “You told him? I don’t understand.”
“Someone else did, but that doesn’t matter. Right now we need to focus on Owen.” Claire clasped her fingers together. “You said you saw who took him?”
“When...when I turned around, he was getting into a brown sedan.”
“And whoever took him? Did you see him?”
“Just his clothes. He was wearing jeans and a black sweatshirt. I didn’t see his face. And the license plate was muddied.”
Claire stood up and started pacing in front of the desk.
“I’m sorry, Claire.”
“I know, it’s just that this...this standing here and doing nothing. I can’t do this.”
Detective Kaufman sat back down at her desk. “Your story checks out.”
“So you believe us now?” Claire asked.
“I have no reason not to.”
Reid frowned. He had a feeling the woman wasn’t at all convinced, but there was nothing else he could do to change her mind. At least not at the moment.