to her arrest?
She shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone.”
Guilt pricked her. But she wasn’t lying. She really didn’t know who had broken in to her house.
The deputy studied her. She’d hesitated too long.
“If you think of anyone, let us know.”
She gave him a sharp nod.
Already it was starting. Wiggins was making sure she didn’t talk. He didn’t have to threaten to make her disappear.
The thought of going to jail and leaving her parents to raise her child was enough to seal her lips so tightly a crowbar couldn’t pry them open.
* * *
Conner followed Kyle up the stairs at Natures Landing Condominiums, pleasantly full from dinner. All week long, he’d hoped for an opportunity to talk to Darci. There was something about her, a sweet innocence that was at odds with the idea that she could be involved in anything sinister. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became—she was in trouble.
But both times their paths had crossed in the employee break room, Darci had brushed him off and hurried back to her office. He hadn’t followed. Though he’d tried to come up with a plausible reason why the mechanic would need to meet with the accounting manager, he’d drawn a blank.
Then yesterday, a fellow employee had mentioned that Darci had a son and spent weekends at her parents’ place in Cedar Key. So as soon as he’d gotten off work tonight, he’d packed two bags, loaded up Kyle and embarked on a minivacation.
Kyle reached the top of the stairs and ran full speed toward their room, excitement bubbling over. In fact, he’d been buzzing with eagerness from the moment they hit Cedar Key. Conner smiled. He would enjoy it while it lasted. All too soon, they would head back home and he’d have the old Kyle back—the sullen boy who found fault with everything anyone did for him.
But Conner couldn’t blame him. Overnight, he’d been ripped from his home and friends in Crystal River and dragged to Chiefland. No wonder the kid was messed-up. And it was far from over. Next week they had Thanksgiving to get through. Four weeks after that, Christmas. By then, he’d probably be back with his grandparents. That had been the initial plan. But a week after Claire’s disappearance, Conner’s stepdad had had a heart attack, followed by a quadruple bypass, and his mom couldn’t care for both of them.
When Conner got to the door, Kyle was still struggling with the lock, so he reached up to help him. Five seconds later, Kyle burst into their rented condo. Conner sighed. Too bad kids didn’t come with troubleshooting guides, because this one needed fixing, and he didn’t have the manual, tools or experience to do it. He’d never planned to be in this position. His determination to keep his relationships casual had guaranteed that he would never have to take on the role of husband or father. Until now.
With his stepdad’s heart attack, Kyle’s care had fallen on him—the least qualified man on the planet. His own father had been loud and abusive. The stepdads that followed hadn’t been any better. Once his newest stepdad fully recovered, Conner could give Kyle back. Meanwhile, he’d be saddled with an angry, rebellious kid, and Kyle would be stuck with the world’s sorriest excuse for a father.
By the time Conner closed the door, Kyle had settled himself on the nearest bed and snatched the remote from the nightstand. Bursts of sound filled the room as he advanced through the channels.
“Get your pajamas on and your teeth brushed first.”
With a groan of protest, Kyle flung himself to his feet, then lifted the Avengers duffel bag onto the bed. “Then can I watch whatever I want?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Did your mother let you watch anything you wanted?”
Kyle fished through the bag and pulled out a pair of pajamas. “No.”
“Then I won’t, either.”
“Is that so she won’t be mad at you if she comes back?”
If she comes back. “Yeah, something like that.”
At first it was when. Now, six months later, it was if. At seven years old, the kid was already facing reality.
Kyle disappeared into the bathroom and came back out two minutes later, dressed in his pajamas, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. The clothes he took off were probably on the bathroom floor, and his teeth were likely not as clean as they should be. But tonight, Conner chose to let it go.
Once Kyle had settled himself back on the bed and resumed his channel search, Conner picked up the duffel, then shook his head. The entire bag was now a wadded, twisted mess. If he left it like that till morning, the kid would go through the weekend looking as if he’d just crawled out of bed.
Conner pulled out a shirt and folded it, then removed a pair of shorts. When he reached for another item, he hesitated. He had uncovered the corner of a book.
He glanced at his nephew. Kyle wasn’t a reader. He knew how to read, but he didn’t do it for pleasure. And since school was out all next week, he’d told Kyle his homework could wait till later. No way was he getting a jump on it. He was a major procrastinator, unless it involved video games.
Conner pulled out the book, then drew his brows together. Kyle with a diary? It was hard enough to get him to do his assignments. He’d never keep a journal.
Which meant the book had probably belonged to Claire.
Anticipation surged through him. During that quick phone call the night she disappeared, all she’d told him was that she’d found something. She hadn’t given him much to go on. Maybe the details he needed were in her diary.
He opened it to the first page. Definitely Claire’s handwriting.
“No!” Kyle’s scream reverberated through the room. Before Conner had a chance to prepare, Kyle leaped up and slammed into him, knocking him onto the bed. “That’s Mommy’s. You can’t have it.” He snatched the book and held it to his chest as tears welled up in his eyes.
“It’s okay, buddy.” Conner kept his voice low, soothing. “I was just straightening your clothes.” He lifted a hand and smoothed back Kyle’s hair. “I won’t take it without your permission.”
Kyle calmed, then swiped at his eyes, as if embarrassed to be seen crying. “You promise?”
He held up a hand. “Scout’s honor. But I’ll read it to you, if you’d like.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t need you to read it. I can read it myself. We’re learning cursive.”
Conner frowned. He wasn’t surprised. The private school he’d put Kyle in had a good reputation. And his sister’s handwriting was impeccable. He’d have to try another tack.
“Will you let me read it? Mommy wouldn’t mind. She was my sister, you know.”
He cringed at his choice of verbs. No matter how he tried to cling to the hope that Claire would one day walk back
