Chapter 47
Chapter
Forty-Seven
Within minutes, the Loveless kitchen became a command post.
Luke spoke into his radio near the back door while Prine studied the location of Cross’s final GPS transmission. Nash leaned over the map beside him, pointing out two roads that approached the pull-off from opposite directions.
Austin glanced at the living room. Ruth sat between Wren and Marlowe, staring at the floor.
Clayton stood behind the couch with both hands braced against it.
Nora remained near the doorway, close enough to hear the plans but unwilling to leave her family.
Mason was apparently at a family function with his father.
Prine folded the map. “Luke and I will approach from the west. Another unit will come from the opposite direction.”
“I’ll ride with you,” Austin said.
“You’re not assigned to this investigation.” Prine paused. “But I could use your expertise. You too, Nash.”
“Thank you,” Nash said.
“But neither of you approaches the cruiser until it’s been cleared. You follow my instructions.”
They agreed.
Nora stepped into the kitchen. “I’m coming too.”
“That’s a terrible idea.” Prine’s voice softened. “We don’t know this boy’s identity or whether he went willingly. The pull-off could be empty, or it could be an ambush. And your family needs you here.”
Austin crossed to Nora as Prine and Luke moved toward the door. “I’ll call as soon as we know anything.”
“Be careful,” she said.
He waited a moment, hoping she might say more. When she didn’t, he nodded and followed Prine outside.
The taillights disappeared into the darkness, taking the movement and urgency with them.
Nora stayed at the window a moment longer. She wished she’d told Austin she trusted him . . . but trust was so difficult for her. However, the thought of him walking into danger made it difficult to breathe for reasons that had nothing to do with her injured ribs.
But the moment had passed.
Behind her, Mom finally spoke. “The test has to be wrong.”
Nora turned. Her mother looked smaller between Wren and Marlowe. The happiness Christian’s return had restored was gone, leaving her face hollow.
“We’ll have the laboratory verify it,” Nora said.
Her mom dragged her gaze up to meet hers. “But you believe it.”
“I believe he saw the result and hid it.”
Mom shook her head. “But he remembered things.”
Marlowe’s face tightened. “Mom—”
“He knew this family.” Tears spilled onto Mom’s cheeks. “How could a stranger know those things?”
Nora crossed into the living room and sat opposite her. “I don’t know. But I don’t think everything we saw was an act.”
Dad’s attention shifted from the staircase. “What do you mean?”
“The boy lied about who he was. That doesn’t mean he chose to come here.” Nora thought of how frightened he’d been of the hymnal pages. “If Cross is Zander, someone took him as a boy too. Maybe the same people were controlling whoever lived with us.”
“You suspected him the whole time, didn’t you?” Dad asked.
“I did.” Nora met his gaze. “I’m angry with him. I’m afraid of what he might have been hiding. But I’m afraid for him now too. Whatever his real name is, I don’t want Cross to hurt him.”
Mom lowered her face into her hands. “Neither do I.”
Wren wrapped an arm around her.
Dad paced to the kitchen window. “I should have gone outside with them.”
“And I should have told you about the report before I left for the concert.”
If she had called Prine as soon as she found it, Cross might never have been the deputy sent alone to watch the house. The boy might still be here.
Nora stood. “We can keep listing what we should have done, but it won’t help us find him now.”
A vehicle entered the driveway. Everyone stiffened until Nora recognized the crime-scene van. Prine had said a technician would collect the original DNA report and examine the boy’s room.
Nora let the technician inside and explained what she had touched when she found the report. As the woman headed upstairs, Nora remembered the boy standing beside the burn barrel that morning.
Folded papers in one hand. A matchbox in the other.
He’d called them school assessment pages. She remembered glimpsing some of the doodles while Zack gathered the completed worksheets at the kitchen table. The boy had slid it beneath the others almost as soon as Nora noticed.
A steep roof. A chimney. Dark rectangles that might have been windows.
She’d thought he was doodling. Now she remembered a dark pencil line on the corner of the papers he’d tried to burn.
Nora hurried to the foot of the stairs.
“What is it?” Marlowe asked from the kitchen.
“I remembered something he drew.” Nora looked toward the room where the technician was working. “And I think it might be a clue.”