by Christa Wick
His words send me racing over to the house. I run up the steps to the kitchen deck. Through the glass doors, I see Siobhan pacing.
Gamble is there. Catching sight of me, he opens the door. As I cross the threshold, a cry vibrates through the house.
Siobhan's eyes stretch wide.
"Sounds like he's out," Gamble says.
"Is that a normal cry?" Siobhan asks.
I have no idea and I'm not waiting to find out. I sprint around my cousin and go through the swinging door and into the guest wing beyond.
Before I reach Adler and Sage's room, Delia comes out. She wears a broad smile and is more than a little shaky.
"It's a girl," she laughs. "Sage wants you to know she told you so."
"And they're both okay? Sage and the baby?"
Still beaming, Delia nods. "But Adler looks ready to pass out. Doctor Nygård has ordered him to sit down and put his head between his legs."
"I warned him to do his own breathing exercises," I laugh. "Guess he didn't listen."
Turning, I nod at the kitchen door. "Going to let Siobhan know. Someone else will have to break the news to Leah. Honey Bee was expecting a boy. I don't imagine she'll be overjoyed finding out the baby is a girl."
Delia pulls a face. "Well, I won't tell her. But I do need to check on her and Caiden. We stuck them in the library."
"Not the day you were expecting," I note as we head toward the kitchen door together.
"No," she agrees. "But it was amazing. I had planned to be a nurse by now. Heck, maybe even a nurse practitioner. Certainly not a medical transcriptionist always working from home except for a few weekends riding around in an ambulance to keep my certifications current."
I stop her before we reach the door. "Then go back to school."
She starts to say her son's name. I shake my head.
"You and Caiden are family now. We'll help you."
She smiles, but her gaze tells me she doesn't believe the fairy tale I'm spinning.
"Maddy hasn't said anything…"
Delia drops her gaze, the smile of a few seconds ago crushed into a thin line. I have no idea what Madigan has said to her sister about the two of us, so I stay silent.
"She's a terrible liar," Delia says. "At least when you know her like I do. The night of Volunteer Day, she left the house for several hours, said she had to go into the office. She didn't, did she?"
My only answer is a blank stare. She continues talking.
"The day they left for Seattle, she hadn't been home for more than thirty hours."
"What is the point of you telling me this, Delia?"
"She sounded miserable when I talked to her last night. Said she had to go and hung up quickly when I mentioned your name."
Inside, I'm sighing, but my face doesn't show it. I take her hand and give it a squeeze.
"What I do for you and Caiden is for you and Caiden. Maddy could never say another word to me and that wouldn't change a thing."
Her already glum expression plummets. Extracting her hand from mine, she rubs at her face, pushing the muscles back into a smile.
"Pretty sure I'm having an adrenaline crash. I'll think about school."
"Good." I force my own smile. "I'm going to let Siobhan know everything is okay before she barges her way into the birthing room."
Delia follows me into the kitchen, her steps never slowing as she waves at my cousin and Gamble.
"Going to check on the kids."
Letting Delia breeze through, Siobhan grabs me by the shirt.
"So everything is okay?"
"Baby girl is doing fine, so is Sage."
"Hah!" Siobhan punches my chest lightly. "You were wrong about it being a boy. Means I get to hold her before you."
"I don't remember making that deal."
"Losers usually forget," she teases as Mama comes into the kitchen waving her phone at us.
The baby has been out in the world for less than ten minutes and Mama already has half a dozen pictures.
"Eight pounds, two ounces," she crows as she pulls up the first picture. "Perfect Apgar score."
"Look at all that hair!" Siobhan squeals, noting the feathery mohawk of dark red strands. "Turk eyes, too."
"Blue eyes in babies can darken to brown."
My gaze flicks from the picture to where Nygård has entered the room. He eases by me and grabs a coffee pod and then one of the mugs next to the machine.
"Usually by six months," he continues, "the color is set, but sometimes as late as three years."
"Fascinating," Siobhan murmurs.
I glance at Gamble then Nygård to see how her comment lands with each man.
"Mine were always brown," Siobhan says, batting her long black eyelashes at the doctor.
Gamble scoops his keys and phone from the counter. "Sounds like we won't be needing any sirens today."
"Perfectly healthy mother and child," Nygård agrees. "Baby Turk and Sage will be the clinic's first patients when we sneak them in tomorrow."
"Baby Turk," I laugh. "Adler and Sage still can't find a name they both like? I guess that buys some more time before Leah finds out she's not the only little girl."
Mama wags a finger at me. "Don't make it into a bigger issue than it is."
"So, you volunteering to tell her?"
She shakes her head.
"Chicken," I tease.
"Fine, fine." She heads for the double doors that open onto the dining room. "You'll see it's no big—"
"Caiden! Leah!"
Hearing the distress as Delia calls out, Mama stops talking. Siobhan and Gamble take a step toward the shouting. The doors push inward, missing Mama by a thumb's width. Delia rushes in, her gray gaze wide with panic.
"Has anyone seen the kids? They aren't in the library or Leah's playroom."
Mama turns at Delia's question, looking first at me and then at Siobhan and Gamble. I don't wait for them to answer.
"They're probably in the house," Mama says as I open the glass doors onto the deck.
"Maybe," I answer as I step outside. But I'm not the kind to think of the most likely location for where the kids are. I think first of the worst possible location.
"Checking the docks," I say. "Siobhan, call Royce and have him check the stalls and pens."
Gamble is riding my heels as I step off the deck. Delia is only a little further back.
"They were told to stay inside," she protests. "To stay together in the library."
With a bad feeling growing in my stomach, I break into a jog and shout the children's names. Gamble and Delia echo me.
While the lake is visible from the deck, the dock and the boats are not. A gravel path climbs a small hill. I take a direct route through the trees, jumping over gnarled roots and dodging branches.
When I reach the other side, I see two boats, not the three that are supposed to be moored. My heart chokes my throat, but then I see Leah in the nearest boat. She wears an orange lifejacket. Tears stream down her face as she clutches the end of the dock line.
"Sutty, I'm here!" she cries. "Help me!"
Delia crashes through the trees as I reach the boat.
"Caiden!"
Unless he's hiding, the boy isn't here. I pull the boat close, secure the dock line then scoop Leah out of the boat.
Delia runs up, sheer terror pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"Honey, honey…where is he?"
With a shaking finger, Leah points at the water.
"There's a boat missing," I tell Delia. I make a quick count of the life jackets still secured to the dock. "And a jacket."
"He left me!" Leah cries, her small arms clinging to my neck. "That boy left me. Said I couldn't go with him on the boat. I said 'mister, I been on that lake a thousand times!'"
Delia screams Caiden's name. I set Leah on the dock and get down on my knees because she won't let go of my shirt.
"Honey Bee, there is a lifejacket missing. Did you see Caiden put it on and secure the straps."
H
er head bobs up and down with an earnest repetition.
When she stops, she touches the straps of her own jacket. "Mine's not on so good, Sutty."
Hoping it will calm her more, I tighten down the straps. "You did a good job holding onto that dock line, baby girl."
Her mouth quivers and she holds up palms still red with the burn of holding onto the rope.
"They hurt."
"Gam-Gam is going to take care of them, but I need you to answer a few more questions first."
Delia doesn't want to wait on the preschooler's answers. She rushes past me toward the moored boat.
Gamble gently blocks her.
"Ma'am, I would be jumping in that boat, too—but we'll find your boy faster if we do this in a methodical and informed manner."
Footsteps pound on the dock. Siobhan and Nygård are running toward us, Mama not too far behind. Leah looks behind her to see who is coming. I gently force her to focus on me.
"Questions first, Honey Bee. Did Caiden start the outboard motor?"
She nods. "I heard it…putt, putt, purr."
My stomach clenches a little tighter at the revelation. I didn't hear the sound of the motor as I left the house or upon reaching the dock. We don't know how long since the kids reached the boats. And the trees and shape of the lake will muffle the noise of the small outboard motor attached to the flat-bottomed jon boats we use for fishing.
At its widest, the lake is a mile wide, but it curves and twists for nearly eight miles. Its northernmost point is on Aunt Dotty's homestead. Uncle Brody's ranch cups the bottom quarter. Total shoreline exceeds more than twenty miles with all the inlets time has carved into it.
Worse still, the trees on the other side go on for miles, rising up into the foothills of the Little Belt Mountains.
With quivering lips, Leah looks over her shoulder at Mama.
"One last question, Honey Bee." I cup her cheek and draw her gaze back to me. "Did you see which way Caiden took the boat?"
With a shaking arm, she points north.
"I was so mad, I turned my back."
Her voice quavers. She is more than old enough to read the worried expressions of the adults around her.
"This is very important, Leah. If you turned your back, how do you know he went that way?"
"Because I looked again. That's how!"
With a sob, she breaks from me and runs to Mama.
"I'm sorry! I broke the rules. Don't hate me, Gam-Gam!"
She flings her arms around Mama's legs then plasters herself against my mother's chest after she is lifted up.
Delia clutches my shoulder. "We have to start looking."
"We are." I stand and walk quickly to the small dock house where we keep supplies.
Siobhan, Gamble and Delia follow me. I grab two hand radios and check the batteries. Looking between Siobhan and Gamble, I hand one to the sheriff and start rattling off orders at Siobhan.
"Call Royce and Will, I want every horse and ATV out with a rider. I want men out on foot. Call your brother and Dotty. Get your daddy's men out. Get the boats on your side of the lake out…call in Walker's crews."
Seeing Nygård's approach, I point at the closest jon boat. "Doc, I want you with me."
He nods as Delia begins to object. "I'm going with—"
I shake my head. "You're going back to the house with Siobhan. You are helping her with the maps up in the library. You two are ground control."
"No, I have to—"
Wrapping my hands around her shoulders, I cut her off again. "You have to listen to me. We have maybe ninety minutes of daylight left. We need focused coordination—not someone who has never been up in those woods."
Delia struggles against my hold. "He could be hurt."
"That's why the Doc is going with me. Eighty-nine minutes, Delia. How much more of Caiden's daylight do you want to spend debating?"
She breaks free. "You don't have to be cruel."
"If that's what it takes," I answer, tossing a first aid kit, some cheap binoculars and a spotlight to Gamble. "Check south. When you reach Uncle Brody's boats on the water, turn north."
He nods and heads for the second remaining boat. I grab another first aid kit, binoculars and spotlight then turn Delia toward Siobhan and Mama.
"I'm sorry," Leah whispers, her watery green gaze flitting around Delia's face. "We saw the butterfly outside. I said it was my mom because I saw it first. We were following the butterfly."
"Oh, God…"
Delia's legs look ready to give out. Holding the phone to her ear as she issues orders, Siobhan wraps her free arm around Delia's shoulders and leads her away.
"Let's get you back to the house, honey."
As I jump in the boat with Nygård, I can just hear Delia's murmured protests before he starts the outboard motor.
"Please, I have to search with them. Caiden is my whole world…don't you understand?"
Chapter Twenty-One
Returning to the hotel room that serves as our command post, I place a triple tall espresso and a bagel sandwich next to Emerson. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, I open a paper bag and pull out a second sandwich.
With his mouth full of food, he snatches a sheet of paper from the printer tray and hands it to me. I read and chew at the same time.
"Wait…is this one of Sprankle's offshore accounts?"
He swallows then points at the balance at the bottom. My eyes bulge at the sum.
"The mother of all offshore accounts."
I'm gone twenty minutes, maximum, to pick up lunch and much-needed caffeine while the investigation jumps weeks ahead in my absence.
I should get lunch more often.
"Have to prove it's his," Emerson clarifies. "But he ordered his shark attorney to arrange twenty million in bearer bonds, and this is the account Schaefer accessed immediately after."
He peels off two more sheets from the printer's stack. "Pulled Suspicious Activity Reports on the account. Big dollar amounts coming in from Russia and Eastern Europe, transfers going to Latin America."
Women and drugs—Sprankle deals in both.
The first genuine smile in more than a week tugs at my lips. It is a feeble smile, but I'll take what I can get.
"That you?" Emerson asks, flipping his phone to check its display.
I delicately paw at my pocket, a slick of mayonnaise on my fingers. Seeing that the call is from Delia, my smile disappears.
For years, we have followed a protocol that, when I'm away from my field office, I call her.
Unless it's an emergency.
I hit ACCEPT.
"What's wrong?"
For the first few seconds, there are no words, just the struggling gasps of my big sister, my rock in life, hyperventilating.
"Caiden," she gasps again. "He's missing."
I jump to my feet, grab a blank sheet of paper from the printer and swipe Emerson's pen from the desk.
"Have you called the police?"
"The police were here when it happened."
The words come out in heaving sobs.
"We were at the ranch. Sage was having her baby and—"
"Sage was having her baby?" I repeat.
Emerson switches from mild curiosity to standing next to me.
"Putting you on speaker—"
"Please, no," she whispers in a broken voice. "I want to talk to you, just you."
"Okay."
I shoulder Emerson away. He snatches up his phone and swipes at the screen.
"Ten messages," he mutters.
"Has a search party been organized?" I demand to know.
"Yes. Sutton and Sheriff Gamble went straight out while Siobhan marshaled the ranch and stable hands and more boats on the lake…please…they don't want me to go out."
I picture my sweet, older sister. Riding an ATV on marked trails with her husband and son doesn't make her a country girl. Until this year, she has spent her entire life in the Boston area.
"I know it's hard to stay where y
ou are, but you have all the right people around you."
She sobs harder, my attempt to reassure her falling on deaf ears. I glance at my watch and estimate how much daylight they have left around the ranch.
Barely more than an hour.
"Delia, a good search is about maximizing efficiencies. I love you, but you're basically a lead boot if you head into the woods."
Emerson, on the phone with someone at the ranch, pauses to write on the sheet of paper I pulled out.
Missing 40+ minutes. Took boat onto lake.
A wave of dizziness washes over me. I push it down and focus on calming the thread of terror vibrating through my sister's voice.
"But you wouldn't be a lead boot," she whispers. "I need you."
"Okay. Of course. But you have to promise me you will listen to those in charge. Do not go out looking for him."
There is silence on the other end.
"Promise me, Delia."
"Yes," she relents. "But hurry."
The line goes dead. I turn to Emerson. My mouth drops open then stalls.
I could be killing my career with what I'm about to say, more so by what I'm about to do.
Emerson isn't the kind man who lets family get in the way of work. It wasn't until after Sutton was already found following a combat jump gone wrong that I even knew my boss had a twin brother and, second, that said twin had been injured and missing in action for days.
If Emerson had been at all worried, if he was in frequent contact with his family in those awful days of the government withholding information, he hadn't shown the slightest hint of his feelings.
"Get your bag ready," he orders, punching in numbers on his phone's screen. "I'll have someone in here to cover our shift within thirty minutes. We'll get our flights booked in the meantime. Our badges will get us past security and…before we can even board, your sister will call back saying the boy's been found and is unharmed."
I nod, wanting to agree with him, wanting Emerson to be right. But I know, in my gut, that we won't be that lucky.
Caiden won't be that lucky.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nygård and I spot the boat at the same time. It is empty and motionless in the water, the skeg at the bottom of the outboard motor grounded in muck. I signal for the Doc to cut our engine.