Chapter 12 #3
Afterward, he thought about calling Tate to let him know they’d been contacted, then figured if Bandy was as good of a psychic as he claimed to be, then he already knew that.
Tate did, indeed, know the parents were already en route via a helicopter, and Brimm was in custody, waiting for the feds.
It was a good day, and now that all of the commotion had calmed down, he sent Briar a text.
The Lone Ranger rides again. The wreck west of town involved a kidnapper and his victim.
It’s a long story, but I’m at the hospital waiting with a little dude named Trevor Stennett.
I told him I would stay until his parents arrived.
They’re on the way. Love you. I’ll call you tonight if it’s not too late.
When Briar got the text, it was all she needed to know. Tate was safe, and he’d saved another life. She could see their lives already going in two different directions, but she also knew it needed to happen. He was building a name for himself without even trying, and she couldn’t be prouder.
* * *
Trevor was sitting up in his hospital bed with a bandage over the stitches in his forehead, eating a hamburger and fries. Tate had pulled a few strings with the cooks in the hospital kitchen to get the special order, and now he was leaning against the wall watching the little guy eat.
Even though Trevor seemed at ease, he still jumped every time someone came in the door or walked past the closed door to his room.
“It’s okay,” Tate said. “Your parents are on the way. They’re flying into Star Ridge in a big red chopper.”
Trevor paused. “How do you know that?”
“Know what?” Tate asked.
“That the chopper is red,” Trevor said.
Tate shrugged. “Do you know what it means to be psychic?”
Trevor blinked. “Uh…you can see the future?”
“Sort of,” Tate said. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m never wrong.”
Trevor nodded and stuffed another french fry in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of Seven-Up. Even as he was swallowing, he began to cry.
Tate moved the food tray and sat down on the bed beside him, and carefully slid his arm behind the little boy’s back. “You’ve had a long, scary four days, haven’t you?”
Trevor nodded, then buried his face against Tate’s chest and started sobbing.
Tate’s heart broke. He could see the horrors the little boy had endured and was pretty sure Trevor saw somebody being murdered too. He knew it would take years of counseling for him to learn to deal with it, but right now all he needed was to feel safe.
Trevor cried himself into silence, but now he was cold and shaking—more from shock than from the air conditioning. Tate pulled the covers up over Trevor’s shoulders and held him close.
“It’s okay, Trev. Cry it all out. You’re safe now, and that man will never get his hands on you again. He’s going to grow old and die in prison, and you’re going to grow up and forget he ever existed, okay?”
Trevor shuddered on a sigh, and slowly, Tate felt him relaxing.
“Want any more of your hamburger?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” Trevor whispered.
Tate patted his shoulder. “Guess what I hear?”
Trevor stilled, then sat up. “A helicopter?”
Tate grinned. “Good ears!”
Trevor glanced toward the window. “Is it Dad?”
“Yes. They’ll be walking through that door pretty soon to take you home. Chief Watts will probably escort them in.”
Trevor had a death grip on Tate’s shirt. “Will you stay with me until then?”
“I sure will. When I make a promise, I keep it.”
They heard the chopper land, then a police siren. Tate pulled the blanket up around Trevor’s trembling shoulders again.
Minutes passed, and Trevor had gone silent.
Then footsteps…a lot of footsteps coming up the hall, closer and closer to the door to Trevor’s room, and then the door flew inward and Trevor screamed.
“Daddy! Mommy!”
Tate unwound the little boy from his lap as the Stennetts came running. Trevor leaped off the bed into his father’s waiting arms.
Chief Watts and a federal agent named Walt Juneau were with them, but the moment the federal agent saw Tate, he immediately confronted him.
“Tate Bandy, I’m Special Agent Juneau. Can we talk?”
Tate gave him a look. “In the hall. Not in front of the boy,” he said.
Trevor thought Tate was leaving and cried out. “Tate! Tate! Don’t leave!”
“I’m just gonna be outside for a minute,” Tate said.
Juneau paused. “Is Tate your friend?” he asked.
Trevor frowned. “Tate saved me. He told the police about the bad man, and he kept his promise to stay with me until Mommy and Daddy came.”
“Agent Juneau. Outside. Now,” Tate muttered and walked out of the room. The moment the door shut behind him, he turned on the agent in anger.