Chapter 57
Chapter
Fifty-Seven
Morning light filled the hospital corridor by the time Nora’s family arrived.
She’d been biding her time as she waited for doctors to examine the boy. Pastor Whitfield had stopped by. Now he was with Shelby. She was grateful Shelby had someone with her now.
She rose from the plastic chair outside the consultation room as Mom hurried toward her with Dad, Wren, and Marlowe close behind. Mason was still with his father.
Mom reached Nora first and pulled her into a careful embrace. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
Austin made a quiet sound behind her.
Nora glanced back at him. The borrowed sweats he’d changed into outside the farmhouse clung to his damp frame, and a scrape darkened one side of his jaw.
Wren looked past Nora toward the examination rooms. “Where is he?”
“He’s being treated for hypothermia and the injuries he got on the bridge.”
“What did he say?” Marlowe rushed. “Anything about Christian? He had to know him, right? He knew too much about our brother for the two of them to have been strangers.”
Nora swallowed hard before saying, “We should go somewhere private.”
They moved into the small consultation room. Austin remained just inside the door while Mom and Dad sat together on the narrow couch. Wren took one of the chairs, but Marlowe stayed on her feet.
Nora closed the door.
“The boy said he escaped from the people who took him,” Nora said. “He came to us because he didn’t know anywhere else he might be safe.”
Mom pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Is Christian . . . ?” Wren’s voice trailed off.
“He said Christian was alive when he escaped.” Nora hated having to temper the first hope they had received in a decade. “We don’t know exactly when he last saw him, and we haven’t verified anything.”
Tears spilled down Wren’s cheeks.
Dad bowed his head, his elbows resting on his knees. One hand reached blindly for Mom’s, and she caught it.
Marlowe’s gaze hardened. “Why did he deceive us? Why did he let us believe he was Christian?”
Nora understood her sister’s anger. Out of all the sisters, Marlowe had believed he was Christian the most. “He was afraid. The people who took them had someone inside law enforcement.”
“So he’s another missing child,” Wren whispered.
“That’s what it looks like,” Nora said. “He lied to us. He allowed us to believe he was Christian, and we still don’t know everything he may have done while he was living with us. But he was a victim too. And he saved Preston’s life.”
A knock sounded before Agent Prine entered. Fatigue showed around her eyes, but her posture remained straight and controlled.
“I wanted to update all of you at once.” She closed the door behind her.
“Zander Dalton—the man you knew as Deputy Cross—is in federal custody and receiving medical treatment under guard. State investigators are also reviewing every case Cross touched and every document used to hire and certify him. Luke has turned over the department’s personnel records. ”
“Good to know,” Nora murmured.
“The vehicle that left the service road hasn’t been located yet, but state and federal officers are continuing the search,” Prine continued.
“We’re also processing the farmhouse and both vehicles for evidence.
The farmhouse appears to have been a temporary holding site rather than the location where the boys were originally kept. ”
“That fits with what we saw there,” Austin added.
Meaning they still had no idea where Christian was being held.
Marlowe glanced toward the hall. “Is the boy under arrest?”
“No. We’re treating him as a potential abduction victim while we determine his identity and his level of involvement in what happened.”
“How do you find out who he is if he doesn’t remember?” Dad asked.
“We’ll compare his fingerprints and DNA with missing person records and family reference samples. We’re also reviewing missing child reports from the years surrounding his approximate disappearance and consulting specialists who may be able to help him recover identifying memories.”
“Could his family still be looking for him?” Mom asked.
“They may be,” Prine said. “But I don’t want to give you the impression that we’ll have an answer today. If he was taken as young as he believes, identifying him could take time.”
Mom looked toward the closed door. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about him.”
Nora sat beside her. “He hurt us, and he also appears to be a victim. Both things are true.”
Mom wiped her cheeks. “You’re right. But I still don’t know what to do with it.”
The truth was—neither did Nora.