Stolen Family (Detective Josie Quinn #24)

Chapter 1

ONE

Laughter bubbled up in her chest and spilled from her lips as she watched her mom try to mimic her dance moves. Her mother had always said she was a terrible dancer, but nothing could have prepared her for the truth of it.

Waving her hands over her head frantically, her mom said, “I’ve got it!”

“You’re not even moving your feet,” she replied. “You literally look like you’re trying to flag down an ambulance.”

In answer, her mom giggled. The sound was light and airy and so unexpected that it made her heart clench. When was the last time she heard her mother laugh at all, much less so brightly?

“Loosen your arms a little,” she instructed. “In fact, loosen your whole body. You want to be fluid. Like this.”

Her mom tried to mirror the languid undulation of her hips, shoulders, all the way up to her arms extended toward the ceiling.

“Am I doing it?”

“Auditioning for a martial arts movie? Sure.”

“Oh, come on!” Her mother tried harder, twirling around in slightly tipsy circles. “I’m doing it! I’ve got it!”

Plopping onto the edge of the bed, the girl giggled until her abs hurt.

The harder she laughed, the more unnatural shakes, twitches, and shuffles her mom injected into the performance.

Then her mom added her own song, belting out lyrics she was clearly making up on the spot but singing them with the conviction of a Tony Award-winning Broadway star.

She was captivated by this version of her mother. Here, away from the house, away from him, they were so different. Everything was different.

When was the last time either of them felt so free?

When was the last time they felt jubilant?

The last time they didn’t have to calculate their every move, every step, the volume of their voices?

When was the last time she went more than a day without his hands on her?

His body covering hers? She’d learned not to scream long ago but she still hated every second.

Hated that even when he left her alone, he came back in her nightmares.

“Darling,” her mother said, coming to a sudden stop and wiping the sweat from her brow with a forearm.

Thoughts of him had made her body go rigid. “What?”

The bed dipped as her mother sat down beside her. “Darling, what’s wrong? You look distraught.”

God, she wanted to tell her mother the truth.

Because her mother would put an end to it, to him.

Except that her mother had been worn down by him, too.

Right now, she didn’t want to say the ugly things that would make their already complicated lives more complicated.

She just wanted to enjoy this evening for what it was—a reprieve.

She wanted to soak in every last moment, every detail, because soon they would return to their reality.

Because there would be no escaping him. Not tomorrow or the next day. Maybe never.