3. Trent Ryder （Carrie’s Son） #2
Dana tilted her head and looked at Trent’s bruised jaw. “You may want to put some ice on that,” she advised him, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile before turning back to Alisha. “Can you give us some details about the man? Where were you when he hit you?”
“I told you our location,” Trent reminded Dana. “I called it in from there.”
“Yes, but he could’ve dragged Ms. Parker there,” Dana pointed out, then looked at Alisha once again. “Any details you can remember will help us.”
“The man had a dark baseball cap on. I didn’t get a good look at his face until I spun around right before he hit me.” Alisha moved in her chair. “He had a scar that ran down the side of his face and brown eyes with a short beard and mustache.”
“Would you have been able to tell what age group?” Dana asked her.
“I’d say maybe mid-fifties!” Alisha’s words surprised Trent.
“The crow’s feet around his eyes, grey side burns, and streaks in his dark beard indicated as such.
Then there was his hands.” She caught Dana’s eye.
“Usually, the hands always give away a person’s age.
” Her jaw clenched. “And I got a good look at them.”
Dana listened without interruption, nodding once or twice, her gaze flicking occasionally to Trent. He knew that look—professional concern mixed with the silent calculation of how much to reveal.
When Alisha finished, Dana leaned back. “We’ll start with the area around the theater and pull up the street camera feeds in ten-minute increments.” She picked up the phone and dialled, barking the exact order into the phone.
Trent and Alisha could hear the young agent’s voice on the other side of the line. “Yes, Deputy Chief. I am pulling them now.”
Dana replaced the receiver and stood. “Shall we go to the bullpen?” She indicated for them to join her.
Trent and Alisha rose to follow Dana from her office into the bullpen that was buzzing. Monitors shifted from grids of data to shaky, rain-streaked camera feeds. Figures moved across the screens, umbrellas bending against the wind, headlights cutting across slick asphalt.
“There,” one agent called, zooming in and pointing to the large monitor that dominated one end of the room.
Trent felt Alisha stiffen as her worst nightmare played out for them to see on the screen.
But you couldn’t see the man’s face. It was like he knew where all the cameras were.
He punched Alisha, who went down, then grabbed a kicking and screaming Cody and Maggie, dragging them away from Alisha’s unconscious body.
Alisha gasped and reached out, clutching Trent’s arm, causing his pulse to quicken, but he ignored it and kept his eyes glued to the screen and concentrated on the anger and fear coiling through him at the sight of Maggie and Cody being pulled away against their will.
“Freeze it,” Dana ordered. The screen stilled. “Track that man. Find a camera or reflection that gives us a good look at his face.”
They followed the figure through a few feeds, tracing him down the crowded sidewalks where people were rushing to get to a shelter from the storm. The man slipped into the mall with a crowd that had probably decided it was a safer option than being outside and trying to leg it to their vehicles.
Inside the mall, the camera quality sharpened. Maggie and Cody were struggling against the man’s grip until, remarkably, she stopped, her one hand shifted behind her back, and her fingers moved deliberately.
Trent’s chest swelled with pride. “She’s signaling to anyone who notices that they are kids in distress.” He gave a tight smile. “I taught her that.”
Alisha’s head turned toward him. “That’s a smart thing to have taught her.” She swallowed. “All I taught Cody was his code words of the day for school or whenever he went on a school trip or outing.”
“That’s also a good thing to do,” Trent told her.
The feed shifted again. The man yanked them through the crowd, but then there was a sudden movement. A woman stepped into frame, blocking his path.
Alisha sucked in a breath, and before Trent could see the woman’s face, he turned to look at Alisha. “Do you recognize her?”
Alisha nodded. “That’s… that’s Paula Day. She lives on Sunset Keys.”
Trent’s head shot around as he saw the man try to step around Paula, who was not budging.
She repositioned herself in front of the man again.
The kids were clearly trying to pull themselves free of the man’s iron grip on their wrists.
Paula was gesturing sharply, her face flushed with fury.
Though there was no audio, her body language was unmistakable—she was shouting.
People who passed by turned to look, their attention caught despite the storm warnings echoing overhead.
The man hesitated, tightening his grip on Cody’s and Maggie’s wrists.
Then, Cody’s head dipped and he bit down hard on the man’s hand, managing to break free as the grip loosened.
The man could be seen cursing and jerking his hand away just as Maggie spun and kicked his shin, followed by Paula swinging her oversized purse with startling force.
As the man’s face twisted to the side from the force of the blow, he crumpled to the ground, going down hard.
Paula grabbed both children’s hands and, dashing off, disappeared into a blind spot between two kiosks and vanished from the camera’s eye.
“Did Paula just—” Alisha whispered, stunned.
“Knock the man unconscious with whatever she has in that oversized purse?” the one young agent finished. “Heck yeah!”
The bullpen erupted into applause.
“I must call her,” Alisha uttered. Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her phone. “Oh no. I have no signal.”
“You won’t,” the young agent who had been tracking the man told her. “There is no signal down here.”
Before Alisha could become overly suspicious again, Trent started edging her toward Dana. “Give Deputy Chief Whitaker Paula’s number and she’ll get in touch with her and find out where she’s taken the kids…”
Trent was interrupted when one of the other agents in the bullpen held out the phone to Dana. “It’s for you, Deputy Chief.” The woman’s eyes slid nervously toward Alisha before returning to Dana. “It’s the local authorities about the man in the mall.”
“Thank you,” Dana said. “I’ll take it in my office.” She turned to Alisha. “May I get that number?”
Alisha nodded and handed her phone to Dana, who took it and wrote it down on her hand.
“Thank you.” She looked at Trent. “Agent Ryder, why don’t you show Ms. Parker to the locker rooms?
One of the agents will bring her something dry to wear.
The doctor should be here soon.” She smiled at Alisha.
“As soon as I know anything, I’ll come find you. ”
“Thank you,” Alisha said as Trent led her away.
It was not long after Trent and Alisha were both dry and sitting in the kitchen area having a coffee that Dr. Parrin walked in.
The man reminded Trent of a young Tom Selleck, making his hackles rise for some reason, as the doctor's eyes softened the moment he landed on beautiful Alisha. After reluctantly letting Dr. Perrin look at her head, the doctor murmured. “Luckily, it’s not too deep.” He cleaned the wound with practiced care.
“You won’t need stitches, and you don’t appear to be concussed. ”
Trent lingered nearby. His muscles tightened as he watched Dr. Perrin’s hand brush Alisha’s temple. Irrational, he told himself. Completely irrational. But when she smiled faintly at Perrin’s reassurance, Trent’s gut twisted.
Get a grip, Trent.
He turned away, moving to the phone in the room, and tried to call his mother. But the phones were still down. The storm had severed everything.
Frustration gnawed at him. He needed to tell his mother they had found the kids and they were safe. He also needed to hear his mother’s voice, to confirm she was safe.
Behind him, Alisha murmured thanks to Dr. Perrin. Her voice was soft, tired, but laced with gratitude. When he looked back, she was sitting straighter, her wound dressed, color returning to her cheeks.
“You can call me, anytime, Ms. Parker,” Dr. Perrin told her, his tone filled with suggestion as he handed her a card.
“Thank you,” Alisha said. “But it’s Mrs. Decker.” She pulled a necklace from beneath her shirt with two rings on it.
“Your husband is a very lucky man,” Dr. Perrin relented. “But, you can still call me anytime should you feel any dizziness, nausea, or headaches.”
The man had absolutely no shame, Trent thought, fighting away the feeling of disappointment as he realized that Alisha was married.
As the doctor left, Dana walked back into the room.
“I have some good news. The suspect is in custody. Local PD has him, and I have requested, as Maggie is the niece of one of our agents and Chief Ware, that he be transported here for interrogation once the storm passes.”
Alisha nodded, though her fists stayed clenched. “Why did he take them? Why my son and Maggie?”
Dana met her eyes steadily. “That’s what we intend to find out. For now, focus on the fact that they’re safe. Paula Day likely saved their lives tonight.”
“Did you get hold of Paula?” Alisha asked.
“Yes.” Dana nodded, her eyes darting toward Trent before going back to Alisha. “She has them. They are safe. Paula apparently has a house here in Key West that she’s taken them to and they’re safe in her basement waiting out the storm.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Alisha breathed, visibly relaxing. Her eyes turned to Trent. “Thank you so much for all your help, Trent.”
“No problem,” Trent said, his pulse quickening at the beautiful smile that split her face. “But I hardly did anything. It’s this team you should thank.”
Alisha turned to Dana. “Yes, thank you, all of you.”
Dana gave her an encouraging smile. “We’re just glad we could help and that Mother Nature was on our side.”
The bullpen quieted as the storm outside howled louder.
Trent stood watching Alisha as Dana explained that she should get some rest and that Alisha could use the room off Dana’s office, which had a bed in it.
Dana led Alisha out of the room, and Trent watched her go, a storm of his own twisting inside his chest. Admiration.
Fear. Something else he hadn’t let himself feel in years.
But he shoved it down. Now wasn’t the time, and Alisha was married.