Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
Wren had her hand up to knock when the door opened. Luke Wilder stood there in his uniform with a dish towel over one shoulder. He looked as if he’d just gotten home from work.
“Wren.” He took in her face then Nash behind her, and whatever had been easy in him disappeared. “Who’s this?”
“Nash Hendricks. I’m renting the Pruitt place.” Nash put out a hand. “I’m TBI. On medical leave.”
“Nice to meet you.” Luke stepped back from the door. “Come in.”
Inside, a cartoon blared from somewhere past the kitchen, and Harper appeared in the hall doorway with a toddler on one hip and a cracker in her free hand. Her face opened up at the sight of Wren.
“Hey, you.” She looked at Wren a second too long as things clicked in place. “I’ll get these two in the back.”
She took her four-year-old by the hand and disappeared as if she’d been through this routine before.
Luke pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and leaned toward them. “All right. I know you’re not here for a friendly visit. What’s going on? Is this about Roy?”
Wren had built a dozen versions of how to say this on the drive over. Every one of them left her. “Kind of. Partly. But the truth is that Christian came home yesterday morning.”
Luke blinked. “Say that again.”
“My brother walked out of the woods behind our house. On the very date he disappeared ten years ago.”
Luke leaned back hard, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Did he say where he’d been? What he’d been through?”
“He said he can’t remember,” Wren said. “He can’t remember anything really. He doesn’t even remember how he got away. Amnesia, I guess. Maybe caused by trauma. Of course, those are just guesses. I have no idea.”
Luke grunted and nodded slowly. “You’re sure it’s him?”
“No.” She didn’t bother to sugarcoat the word.
He tilted his head in surprise and waited for her to continue.
“I’m not sure of anything, Luke. That’s why I’m sitting in your kitchen.”
“You said yesterday morning.” Luke glanced at his watch. “It’s four o’clock Sunday. It’s been over twenty-four hours. Why am I just hearing about this now?”
“Christian begged us not to go to the police. He’s terrified of reporters. He terrified of being looked at, of all of it.” She knew how thin the reasoning sounded but kept going anyway. “I told myself if we called it in and Christian turned out to be some imposter, my mother wouldn’t survive that.”
“I suppose I can see where you’re coming from. Okay.” He pulled the dish towel off his shoulder and set it on the table. “Then let’s not lose any more time. Who else knows?”
“My sisters. Nash. That’s it.”
“Not your mother. Not your father.”
“Not yet.” She blew out a breath. “But there’s more.”
She told him her theory about Roy.
Nash waited for Luke’s reaction.
Finally, Luke blew out a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Here’s where we are. Christian sees a doctor today. Not tomorrow. He’s been gone for ten years, and no one has laid eyes on him but you all. He needs to be examined and documented.”
“He’ll say no,” Wren said.
“Don’t make it an option,” Luke said. “Second, we need to let the proper authorities know. The FBI. Do you remember the name of the agent who worked his case?”
“Donnelly,” Wren said. “I think his first name was Jeff.”
“I’ll call.”
Wren rubbed her neck. “How fast will things happen?”
“For a child abduction with a live return? Fast. Could be someone in Fog Lake tomorrow.” Luke let that land. “Which brings me to the part you’re going to like least. How old is Christian now?”
“Seventeen.”
“That’s what I thought. He’s a minor. That’s going to pull in the state at some point. Not today. But it’s coming.”
Luke hesitated as if he wanted to say more.
Wren’s hands went still on the table. “Say the rest.”
Luke frowned before his gaze met hers. “As one parent to another, until you have more answers, I wouldn’t leave Christian alone with your son.”
Wren sucked in a breath. “You mean . . . because . . .”
“I just mean that’s what I would do out of the utmost caution. We don’t know for sure who this boy is or what he’s been through.”
Wren nodded, an almost stoic look in her gaze. “I understand. Mason’s with his father right now. He’ll be back tonight.”
“Then that’s your evening,” Luke said. “Somebody stays awake in that house tonight. I’d rather it wasn’t you, because you look like you’re running on fumes, but somebody.”
Nash spoke before he’d decided to. “It won’t be her.”
Luke and Wren turned toward him.
“I can station myself outside in my truck to keep an eye on things,” he explained. “I’d feel better if I were there—just in case.”
Luke studied him for a good while before saying, “You’re on leave.”
“That’s why I’ve got the time.”
“Good to know.” Luke stood and dug his phone out of his back pocket. “Wren, go tell your mother.”
Wren paused for a moment before asking, “You believe he’s my brother?”
Luke stopped scrolling. “I haven’t got an opinion yet on who he is. But I think it’s only wise to proceed with caution.”