Chapter 6

Ryan lowered himself to the floor next to Sam. “Hey, stop for a minute so I can talk to you.”

“Am I in trouble?”

It was disturbing that the boy kept thinking he was in trouble.

“No, I just need you to listen. Matti’s brother is here.

He’s a policeman, a detective. Do you know what a detective is?

” When Sam shook his head, Ryan said, “That’s a special kind of policeman.

He investigates crimes. He needs to talk to you about—”

“I don’t want to. My daddy said policeman are bad and put you in jail. I don’t want to go to jail.”

Oh, Sam. Ryan put his arm around the boy. “No one’s going to put you in jail. Detective Colton needs to talk to you about something. Okay?”

Matti walked in with her brother, and Ryan took stock of the man.

He would have known Wyatt was her brother without being told.

They both had the same messy brown hair—the style was cuter on Matti—and their father’s blue eyes.

Wyatt, though, could use a haircut. There was a difference in their height.

Like Ryan, Wyatt was tall, whereas Matti was five or six inches shorter than them.

“Let’s stand up,” he said to Sam, who was warily eyeing Wyatt.

Matti smiled at Sam. “Wyatt, this is Sam and Dr. Ryan Palmer.”

“Great to meet you.” Ryan held out his hand, refusing to grimace when Matti’s brother squeezed his fingers hard. He got the message. Don’t mess with my sister. Not one to be intimidated by a cantankerous brother, Ryan smirked, which had the effect of said brother narrowing his eyes.

“Likewise,” Wyatt said, not at all sounding as if he meant it. He squatted down in front of Sam. “Hi, Sam. I’m Detective Wyatt, Matilda’s brother.”

“Her name’s Matti.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Only her friends get to call her Matti, so you must be a good friend.”

“I am.” He looked at Matti as if verifying that.

“You sure are,” she said.

Wyatt glanced at Sam’s toy. “You like fire trucks?”

Sam nodded. “I got a new one. You want to play with me?” He picked up the remote.

“I do, but before we do that, I need to talk to you a little, okay?”

Ryan had to give Wyatt credit for how he was dealing with Sam. “Why don’t we take a seat?” He sat on one end of the couch, and Sam nestled up against him. Matti sat on the other side of Sam but not close to him. That struck Ryan as odd. Wyatt perched on the coffee table, facing them.

“Can you tell me what happened at the motel, Sam?” Wyatt said, keeping his voice gentle.

“Are you going to take me to jail?”

Wyatt lowered his elbows to his knees, bringing him closer to Sam. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you going to put the mean men in jail?”

“Can you tell me about those men? Did they come to your motel room? Did they hurt you?”

When Sam pressed against Ryan, he put his arm around the boy. “It’s okay, Sam. We talked about this. You’re not in trouble, and you can tell Detective Wyatt what happened.”

“My daddy was mad ’cause my mommy wouldn’t wake up. My daddy yelled at her, and when she still didn’t wake up, he hit her. He kicked her and called her bad names. I told him to stop hurting her…” Sam gave a shuddering breath. “He said if I didn’t shut up, he’d whip my ass.”

When Wyatt glanced at him, Ryan saw the anger in the cop’s eyes. It was a good thing Sam’s father was dead because they both would like nothing more than to teach the man a lesson about abusing children.

“Then what happened, Sam?” Wyatt said.

“Daddy called somebody on the phone and two men came. I didn’t like the way they looked at me. They picked Mommy up and carried her away. Daddy went with them.”

“They left you by yourself?” Wyatt asked, and Sam nodded. “Did those two men say anything?”

“One of them told Daddy he had to come with them because the boss wasn’t happy with him.

Daddy got a scared look on his face. Then the other man looked at me, and I got scared ’cause he had mean eyes.

When they were gone, I hid in the closet.

I was in there a long time waiting for Mommy and Daddy to come back. ”

“Did someone find you?” Ryan asked.

“No, I had to pee really bad, so I peeked out. Nobody was there, so I peed. I was really hungry, so I went to the office. Mary, she works at the motel, was in the office. She’s always nice, so I asked her if I could have something to eat.

She asked me where Mommy and Daddy was, and I told her some men took them away.

I guess she called the police ’cause they came and got me. ”

“You did good, Sam,” Wyatt said. “What did the two men look like?”

“They had brown hair.”

“What else?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t remember. Are you mad at me ’cause I don’t remember?”

“No, of course not. What about their eyes? Do you know what color they were?”

“Brown?”

“Okay. What about scars? Did either of the men have any scars on their faces or arms?”

“I don’t think so. Oh, they had a picture on their arms.”

“Like a tattoo?” Sam nodded, and Wyatt held out his arm. “Can you show me where?”

Sam pointed to the inside of his wrist.

“Very good, Sam. Did both men have a tattoo?”

“Uh-huh. I saw them when they picked up Mommy.”

“What did the tattoos look like?”

“I can draw a picture. I draw good.”

“Fantastic.” Wyatt glanced at Matti. “Can you get us a pencil and paper?”

“Sure.” She left, returning a minute later with pencil and a yellow legal pad. “Here you go.”

“You want me to draw now?” Sam said.

Wyatt nodded. “Yes, please.”

As Sam began to draw, his tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the picture he was making. He hadn’t lied. He could indeed draw very well, and the image that was emerging was disturbing.

When he finished, Sam handed the legal pad to Wyatt. “That’s what they looked like. I didn’t like them.”

Ryan didn’t blame the boy. He didn’t like them either. The skull and bones with flames coming out the top of the head was menacing. The eye sprockets were blackened in, and the mouth was open in a grimace with a row of teeth showing.

“And each man had one exactly like that on his wrist?” Wyatt asked.

Sam nodded.

Wyatt reached over and placed his hand on Sam’s knee. “Thank you, Sam. You’ve been a big help today.”

“You’ll put them in jail so they won’t come back?”

“I’m going to do my best.”

Sam looked up at Ryan. “Can I play with my fire truck now?”

“If Matti says it’s okay.” Sam kept turning to him for direction and approval, but he needed to get that from Matti.

She was responsible for him. He’d noticed, though, that for some reason, she held herself back from Sam.

She was caring and all that she should be, but there was distance between her and Sam and it was coming from her.

He doubted Sam saw it, but he sensed it, which was why the boy kept turning to Ryan.

“Can I, Matti?” Sam asked.

“Sure.”

“Let’s talk in the kitchen a minute before I go,” Wyatt said.

Leaving Sam playing on the floor with his truck, Ryan followed Matti and her brother into the kitchen. As he walked behind Matti, his gaze traveling over her, appreciating every luscious curve of her body, something stirred inside him.

He didn’t want any stirring going on. His focus was on his job.

His bandwidth for personal relationships was nonexistent.

He was perpetually exhausted from long hours at the hospital.

By the end of the day, he was emotionally drained from dealing with people, often in life-or-death situations.

More nights than not, he dragged himself home and planted face first in his bed, sometimes not bothering to eat.

So, this stirring thing going on needed to stop.

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