Anything for His Son. Rita Herron
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“Miss Rebecca! Miss Rebecca!” Jesse’s nanny stumbled into the salon, waving her arms, looking harried.
Rebecca frowned. “What is it, DeeDee?”
“Miss Rebecca,” DeeDee sobbed. “Oh, my God, my God, my God. It’s Jesse!”
Rebecca shot to her feet, her heart pounding as she searched behind the woman for her son. “Where is he, DeeDee? What’s happened?”
Ethan lurched toward DeeDee, grabbed her by the arms and shook her gently. “What’s wrong? Is Jesse hurt? Did he have an accident?”
DeeDee’s face crumpled and tears streaked her pale cheeks. “No, he’s…missing,” she sobbed. “I turned my back for just a minute, and he was gone!”
Missing…gone… The room spun.
“Where were you?” Ethan barked.
“At Frog Pond,” DeeDee cried. “Miss Rebecca, she told me to take Jesse wading, and so I did. He was so excited. And there were other kids there, so many. They were laughing and playing chase at the edge of the water and he joined in.” She heaved a breath. “Then suddenly he disappeared. I searched everywhere, I yelled for him, but he was nowhere! Miss Rebecca, I’m so sorry…”
Rebecca swayed and reached for something to hold on to. Jesse was missing. “No…”
Black dots danced before her eyes just before the world went dark. She felt herself spiraling, floating, the shock clawing at her as she collapsed against Ethan.
ETHAN CAUGHT REBECCA, HIS OWN heart pounding with fear. His son, his five-year-old little boy, was missing. Had he wandered through the crowd and gotten lost, or had he been kidnapped?
He helped Rebecca to a sofa and settled her onto the cushions. “Rebecca?”
“Ethan—”
“Hang on, sweetheart. I’m here.”
A gut-wrenching cry rose from deep in her throat. “Jesse?”
“We’ll find him, I promise.” Even as he muttered the assurance, a dozen terrifying scenarios raced through his mind. Jesse being kidnapped by an ax murderer. Or a pedophile. Christ, no, please no…
His knees buckled and he fought for a breath. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t let Rebecca jump onto that horrifying, runaway train of thought, either.
Time was of the essence. If Jesse had been abducted, he was getting farther and farther away by the minute. He had to call the police.
He reached for his cell phone, then halted. He’d seen enough cases to know that kidnappers always warned against calling the cops. They usually wanted money.
Money—he had lots of it. That was the reason they’d taken Jesse.
He’d give them whatever they asked for, just as long as they didn’t hurt his son.
He turned to DeeDee, who had slumped into the nearest wingback chair, crying into her hands.
He had to stop thinking like a father and think like a detective. But Jesse was his son. How could he not think like a father? “DeeDee, did you call for help at the pond?”
She nodded. “I told people all around me and they looked, too. Then this lady said she thought she saw Jesse walking away with a man.”
He punched in the number for his Eclipse contact, Dana Whitley, the only civilian who knew about its existence. A secretary for the Pentagon by day, she clandestinely coordinated Eclipse and could accomplish anything.
Ethan explained the situation. “My son has been kidnapped. I need people now to search the area surrounding Frog Pond. This has to be discreet. I don’t want it to look like I’ve called the cops. The kidnapper might be watching.”
Rebecca shuddered next to him, and he hung up and squeezed her hands. “Bec, listen, we have to go back to my place. If a kidnapper took him and wants a ransom, he might call me there.”
“What about the police?”
“Let’s go to my place first. If there’s no call or note, then we’ll phone it in.”
Rebecca latched on to his hand and dragged herself to a sitting position. “But, Ethan, they can search the streets, the highways. Issue an Amber alert—”
Ethan glanced at his phone in a panic and willed the infuriating thing to ring. He wanted that call, dammit. Wanted to know who had his son and why. “Trust me. My team is on it. They’ll cover the streets better than the cops. We have connections, Bec.”
He flipped on the handset and noticed a text message waiting. He’d been so busy last night during the blackout he’d finally shut down his phone and ignored any messages.
He checked it now.
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
His blood ran cold. The cryptic message struck a nerve. It had something to do with Jesse’s kidnapper. He knew it in his gut.
Fear choked him.
If he hadn’t ignored the message last night, maybe he could have prevented his son from being abducted.
FINN SMILED TO HIMSELF AS HE drove the dark sedan into the abandoned warehouse. He would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when Ethan Matalon discovered his precious son was missing. And Rebecca… he would have enjoyed being beside her to offer her comfort. Dry her tears. Whisper reassurances.
Maybe even strip her and soothe her with a night of lovemaking.
His sex swelled, reminding him that he had done without that pleasure for too long. Hell, he’d wanted Rebecca but had forced himself not to push her for fear of raising suspicion. But in the end, maybe he’d screw her anyway.
For now, though, contact with her was too dangerous. Better for her to think he was completely out of the country, off on business.
They would figure out the connection soon enough.
Then Rebecca would blame herself.
As Ethan was no doubt doing, thanks to the text message.
Finn killed the engine, climbed out and shut the warehouse door, then stared at the backseat, where he’d stuffed the boy. The cough syrup in his soda had worked perfectly. The kid was out cold.
But he would wake soon. And like a lot of other children, Jesse Matalon was afraid of the dark.
Ethan had been, too, as a kid. Liam had noted that in his file.
He’d also said that Ethan was smart. He’d know better than to call the cops.
And if he got stupid and called them anyway, then his son’s death would be on his conscience, not Finn’s.
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