stiffened, her muscles going taut, her little hands pushing against Malone’s chest. She might not be saying a word, but she understood everything they were talking about, and it was upsetting her.
“That’s enough, McConnell,” Malone said quietly. He didn’t want to scare the little girl more than she’d already been.
August didn’t get the hint. He just kept talking. “Nothing to say to that, sis? You’ve always been quick to defend people. Even people who don’t deserve it. Tabitha is not just a thief and a liar. She’s a kidn—”
“I said,” Malone cut in, “that’s enough.”
“Not nearly,” August replied.
“How about you stop thinking about your vendetta against your sister long enough to consider the kid’s feelings?” Malone growled.
That shut August up.
Up ahead, blue-and-white lights flashed through the trees, the tinny sound of a police radio drifting on the chilly night air.
“Looks like they’re there,” August said. “I’ll run ahead and fill them in.”
He sprinted forward, and Quinn muttered something Malone couldn’t hear.
“What’s that?” he asked, glancing in her direction. Strobe lights splashed across her face. There were scrapes on her neck and on her cheeks. Probably from hiding in the tree throw and running through the woods.
“Nothing I want to repeat in front of Jubilee.” She took the little girl from his arms, hugged her tight. “Everything is going to be okay, sweetie. I know it will be.”
She couldn’t know it. Not with any certainty. Life played out the way it did. God did what He would. All they could really do was trust that He had things in control.
Malone didn’t correct her.
There wasn’t any sense in that.
Besides, Jubilee deserved a little comfort before she got handed over to more strangers.
And then to Boone?
Malone hoped so. That was the goal. Get her back to her biological father.
If she was Boone’s kid.
One way or another, the police would figure things out. Before they did, they’d probably hand Jubilee over to Child Protective Services. Which was a shame, because Boone wouldn’t be in-country for another...Malone glanced at his watch...twenty-nine and a half hours. He’d want to see the girl as soon as he arrived. That might be difficult if CPS secreted her away.
Still...
If she was Boone’s kid?
That would be something.
Everyone who worked for HEART knew how long and hard Boone had hunted for his daughter. She’d disappeared while he’d been overseas, serving his country. His first wife had joined a cult and taken their newborn baby with her. By the time Boone returned to the States, everything he’d thought he’d had was gone—his wife, kid, money. All of it had gone to the cult.
He’d hired a lawyer, petitioned for custody, but his wife had gone so deep into the cult it had been difficult to find her. She’d died of a drug overdose a few months later, their daughter taken by members of the cult. Despite the efforts of police and FBI, she’d never been found.
Eventually the case had gone cold, but Boone hadn’t given up. Even after he’d married again, he’d kept looking.
If this was his daughter, all those years of believing she’d eventually be found, all those years of following dead-end leads, tracking down friends of friends of his deceased wife, would pay off. All that hope that Boone had held out, all the belief and faith he’d poured into the search? It would be worth it.
That would be nice to see.
Malone considered himself a cynic, a little rough-edged and definitely more logical than emotional, but even he liked a good story and a happy ending.
If Jubilee was Boone’s little girl, that would be the kind of happy ending everyone at HEART worked for. A coup for the entire team; and something that would be celebrated by everyone.
If...
The story Quinn had told her brother didn’t jive with what Malone knew. According to Quinn, the five-year-old had been living with a real estate broker named Jarrod Williams. If he had any ties to the cult Boone’s first wife had joined, Chance hadn’t been able to find it.
A little more time would bring everything to light. It usually did. For now, they had to keep track of Jubilee, make certain that she didn’t disappear again, and convince the police that she really could be Boone’s child.
He glanced at Quinn again, her small frame drowning in the oversize sweatshirt, her hair just brushing its collar. If she hadn’t called her brother, if she hadn’t told him when to expect her, she might still be hiding from the men who’d followed her from Maine.
Or worse.
She might be dead.
They’d have to make sure she stayed safe, too.
They?
He was on vacation.
As soon as Chance showed up, he was going back to it.
Until he showed up, though, Malone would stick around. He always completed his missions. This time would be no different. He just hoped that finishing it didn’t mean sticking around for days or weeks. That seemed to be the way things went—he agreed to help for a few hours and ended up helping for a lot longer.
He pushed through a thick stand of trees, stepping off the path and into a small field that butted up against a wide well-manicured yard. The small ranch house August lived in was just ahead, the glow of the porch light faded beneath the onslaught of emergency lights. Three police cars were parked in the driveway, and two officers stood on the porch, talking to August.
“Looks like this is it,” Quinn said so quietly he almost didn’t hear. Then she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and marched toward them.
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