Chapter 1
“Good evening, friends. This is Kendra Hartley with another episode of Find This Child. Our child tonight is McKenzie Haywood. Six years ago, on a hot, summer day, thirteen-year-old McKenzie disappeared in broad daylight on her way to the corner store to buy a Dove bar, her favorite ice cream. McKenzie had the permission of her mother to walk the one block to the convenience store, something she’d done many times before. ”
Kendall Hart wrapped up her podcast an hour later and leaned back in her chair.
She’d given her listeners all the facts of the cold case, and soon, probably even tonight, she’d start getting questions and suggestions in her podcast pen name Kendra Hartley’s dedicated email account.
She was too tired to read them tonight, and she still had tomorrow’s lesson plan to do.
She shut down her equipment, turned off the baby cam and left the small closet she’d made into a sound booth.
She’d been doing her once-a-month podcasts for three years, beginning a year after Olivia was born.
In those three years, two of her cases had been solved thanks to input from her listeners.
Even though delving into the lives of the missing children depressed her, that two child predators were behind bars because of her podcasts was all the motivation she needed to continue.
And maybe, one day, her kidnapper would be caught.
Kendall shuddered, thinking of how terrified her seven-year-old self had been when that man had snatched her right out of her front yard in broad daylight.
That was the downside of doing these podcasts.
They always brought back the memories and the questions that haunted her.
Were any of these children still alive? Was her kidnapper out there, still taking children?
Her guilt was that she hadn’t been able to describe the man or his car well enough to help the police find him.
If he was still kidnapping little girls, it was partly her fault.
If only she’d been able to describe his face or knew cars well enough to tell the police what he looked like and what he drove.
All she knew was that he had a scarf wrapped around his face and a beanie on his head—which wasn’t strange as it was winter and snowing—and that his eyes were brown and his car was white.
She’d been so excited that it was snowing, and her mother had let her go outside to build a snowman with the promise that she not leave the yard.
She hadn’t. Even in her front yard, she hadn’t been safe.
Shaking off the memories, she left the sound booth, closing the door behind her.
After a stop in the kitchen to put a pod in the coffee maker, she went to her daughter’s room. Olivia was a restless sleeper, and as she did every night, she’d kicked off the covers. Kendall pulled them back over her, then kissed her little girl’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
She stood over Olivia’s bed and stared at her daughter.
Even at four—almost five—years old, Livie was rebelling at the tight reins Kendall had on her.
As much as she tried to loosen those reins, she just couldn’t make herself do it.
Evil was out there, and she’d be damned if it touched her baby girl.
If she was overprotective of her child, she had a right to be.
No one knew better than her how fast a child could disappear.
There was a lesson plan to work on, and the sooner she got it done, the sooner she could go to bed, so she returned to the kitchen to get her cup of coffee. The dining room table was her workspace, and she settled down and got to work.
* * *
Monday morning, Kendall stood at the door to her second-grade classroom, greeting each child by name and telling them the question of the day.
They couldn’t answer yet, but they had the morning to think about it.
Today’s question was, “What is something you wish you knew how to do?” She loved the daily questions because often their answers were hilarious.
Once all her little people were seated, she started their five minutes to talk to each other about their weekend, something they did every Monday. Letting them chat among themselves seemed to settle them down after being away from class for two days.
By the time the final bell rang, she considered the day a success. There had only been one argument between two of her kids and only one set of tears when Carly fell down at recess and skinned her knee.
The best answer to their Monday question was Blane’s.
“I wish I knew how to be invisible so my mom can’t see me when I give my broccoli to Max.
He’s my dog and he’ll eat anything, even gross broccoli.
And, if I was invisible, I wouldn’t have to wear clothes ’cause no one could see me. ” He gave her a big grin.
Blane was her most creative student, and she liked to think he’d be a famous novelist one day. By four o’clock, all her kids had been picked up or were safely on the bus, and she returned to her classroom to gather her things.
At four fifty, she was home after picking up Olivia from her preschool.
“You know what, Mommy?” Olivia asked as she sat at the counter, waiting for her after-school snack.
“What’s that, sweetie?” Kendall slid the plate with three cheddar cheese slices and grapes across the counter to Olivia.
“Ford’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“He’s not? Why’s that?” Ford had been her daughter’s boyfriend for three days now.
“Well.” She sighed as she rested her chin on her hand. “He likes Macy better.”
Oh, the drama of young love. Kendall chuckled softly, shaking her head at the fickleness of four-year-olds. “Well, that’s all right, sweetheart. It’s okay to not always have a boyfriend. You can have another boyfriend when you’re twenty-five.”
Her daughter’s eyes widened. “But I’ll have white hair when I’m twenty-five.” She scrunched her nose. “And wrinkles.”
Kendall resisted the urge to go find a mirror and check for gray hair and crow’s feet. “Why don’t you finish your snack and not worry about boyfriends. Okay?”
“Then I can go outside and play?”
“No. You know you can’t go outside without me.”
“I won’t leave the yard. Please, Mommy.” She pressed her hands together as if in prayer.
“No, sweetie.” They went through this most nights, Olivia wanting to go outside and play by herself.
The answer was always the same, but her daughter was persistent.
It was an impossible request for Kendall to agree to.
“Tell you what. If you don’t mind if dinner’s a little late, we’ll play outside for a few minutes. ”
“Yes!” Olivia clapped her hands.
“Just give me a few minutes to change.”
“Hurry, Mommy.”
Later that night, after Olivia was in bed and asleep, Kendall settled at the dining room table to search for her next podcast child.
She was scrolling down the links in the search engine when an article caught her attention.
She clicked on the link. It was a feature on three men who’d started a company called The Phoenix Three, their mission to rescue children who’d been kidnapped or had run away.
She started reading the article and was impressed with their success.
Midway through the piece, there was a photo of the three men, and her gaze roamed over their faces.
She gasped at seeing the man on the right.
“Dear God,” she murmured as she pressed her hand over her pounding heart.
It was him, Olivia’s father. The man whose name she’d never known. And now she knew.
“Cooper Devlin,” she said, testing his name on her lips. She would have told him he was a father if she’d known who he was and how to find him. She’d always wished she could thank him for her bright, beautiful daughter.
She closed her eyes and thought of him and that night.
On the eighteenth anniversary of her kidnapping, a date that always sent her into a funk, she’d impulsively stopped at The Tipsy Turtle, a bar near her apartment that served good food.
It was either that or go home, heat up a microwaveable dinner and be depressed by herself.
The man who took a seat at the bar next to her bought her second glass of wine. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile.
He was pretty hot. His hair was cut military style, and his dark coffee eyes were warm and kind. They talked about everything and nothing as they ate their dinners. Later, when he stood and held out his hand, she slipped hers in his and left with him.
It was at her insistence that they did not trade names.
All she knew about him was that he was a soldier on bereavement leave, and he was returning to base the next morning.
That was perfect. She’d never have to see him again.
He’d made love to her as if she were something precious.
She had never felt more alive and wanted than in his arms that night, a stark contrast to the painful memories that usually haunted her on this anniversary.
He’d made her forget, and he’d left her with a precious gift.
Her eyes stung with tears as she opened them. She had to tell him he had a daughter. But how? And what kind of man was he? What would it mean for Olivia? Oh, God. What if he tried to take her baby girl away from her? Should she call him or tell him in person? She didn’t know.
A week. She’d give herself a week to decide when and how to tell him.
* * *
Kendall glanced at the clock on the wall.
One more hour before she could send all her kiddos home.
She’d been uneasy all week, and at times had felt like she was being watched.
She chalked it up to stress and nerves because of the decision she had to make.
Her time was up, and she still hadn’t decided how to tell Cooper Devlin about Olivia.
She hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since seeing his photo in the article. Maybe she didn’t have to tell him, then she wouldn’t have to worry that he’d try to take Olivia away from her. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? No, she had to tell him. It was the right thing to do.
“Time’s up,” she said to her class. “Close your journal and set your pencils down.” Most of her students loved writing in their journals, especially Blane, who always had to be told twice to put down his pencil. “Blane, time’s up.”
He loudly sighed as he dropped his pencil to the desk. “I wasn’t finished, Ms. Hart.”
“You can finish it—”
The door to her classroom opened, and Rebecca King, their principal, walked in followed by Susana Weaver, the school’s secretary. “Ms. Hart, I need to see you for a few minutes. Susana’s going to sit with your class.”
“Okay.” What was up? Both women had serious expressions.
“Bring your purse,” Rebecca said when Kendall stepped toward her.
Now she was nervous. She opened her desk drawer and grabbed her purse. “What’s going on, Rebecca?” she asked when they were in the hallway.
“We’ll talk in my office.”
Kendall tried to think of something she’d done that necessitated a trip to the principal’s office. She drew a blank. When they entered Rebecca’s office, a man wearing black pants and a white button-down stood looking out the window. He turned, and her gaze went to the gun and badge on his belt.
“Kendall, this is Detective Rossi.” After introducing the officer, Rebecca stepped back.
Please, God, no. But she knew. Oh, God, she knew what he was going to say. Her worst nightmare had come true. Her heart hammered in her chest so hard that it hurt, and her vision blurred.
“Ms. Hart,” he said, his eyes filled with sympathy. “There’s no easy way to say this. Your daughter’s missing.”
Kendall fainted.
Copyright ? 2026 by Sandra Owens