away. I told her to hide until you left, but I’m pretty sure she’s not of a mind to come back.”
Mitch bypassed the car and disappeared behind the cabin.
“Alma?” Eric shook his head. “That name doesn’t ring a bell as one of our missing children or their mamas.” Then, he took off after Mitch. Justin followed behind.
“Missing children?” Mary said, although no one, not even Justin, stuck around to listen. “You mean, there’s more than one?”
THREE
What a homecoming. Standing behind the cabin, Mary watched Mitch as he studied the ground, moving right, then left, careful where he placed his feet. His crisp brown Dockers blended in well with the scenery. He was definitely a sharp-dressed man. A good-looking one, too, even if he was a cop. He glanced back—not at them but at the location of the sun—pulled his cell phone from his belt and motioned for Eric while holding a hand for Justin to stay put.
Eric slowly moved toward Mitch, careful to step where Mitch had stepped. Justin paced at the top of an embankment. Oh boy, her son wanted to go along on the hunt, find Alma, be involved. It was disconcerting to see another adult influence her son’s actions. She’d been handling Justin alone for so long.
And Mitch Williams wasn’t the type of man she wanted to influence her son.
Powerful men worried Mary. Maybe that was why she’d married Eddie. She hadn’t thought of him as powerful. If Mary ever got involved with a man again, she’d try to choose a nice, safe accountant or maybe a barber.
“He’ll be back in a moment.” Eric, already red and sweaty, joined her. “When Mitch gets an idea, sometimes it’s best to let him be.” He reached inside his back pocket. “Here, take a look at this.”
Mary took the police sketch and felt her knees go weak.
“Is that the girl that was at the lot?”
“Yes.”
“No doubt?”
“None. If you knew about Alma, why’d you let me think it was Angelina?”
“We didn’t have a name for this girl. Right now she’s a person of interest. We do know she was at the festival on Sunday, and we do know that for some reason she was fascinated with little José. Sis, you have no idea what a help you’ve been. Now, thanks to you, we have a place to start. I need to call Ruth. She can run the name, and she needs to know Mitch’s involvement in the case. Then I’m guessing she’ll call the Santos boys, see what they think.”
“The Santos boys?”
“Angelina’s brothers, José’s uncles, all cops.”
Mary shook her head. “I can’t imagine Alma has anything to do with the missing children. She’s nothing but a child herself. She acted scared of her own shadow.”
“Fear’s a powerful motivator. You know that.” Eric’s words, so softly spoken, almost put Mary in tears.
“You know,” she said, “you’re starting to sound like a cop.”
“No surprise since I’m married to one.”
Eric handed Mary a key to the cabin before walking to the edge of the driveway. Mary almost lost her breath when she stepped into the living room. It was like traveling back in time a whole decade. She and Eddie had lived in this cabin as newlyweds. She’d been ecstatically content for maybe the first two years of their marriage. Eddie had worked long hours at the used car lot, trying to prove to her father that he could handle it on his own. Occasionally, he’d take a day off and they’d hike or just veg in front of the television. A few times they’d taken day trips.
With Eddie, she’d almost had it all. For two years, two blessed, happy years, she’d loved her husband, loved her life and started to believe bliss was hers. She’d learned to cook, studied antiques, learned to craft and discovered a genuine love of the land. She’d been free to do what she wanted without her family dictating every move.
She still loved those things. Her feelings for her late husband had certainly changed, though. As Eddie got more involved in her family’s dealings and spent more time with her brother Tony, the husband she thought would keep her safe turned into her nightmare.
Tony was not a nice man, and it only took two years for Eddie to become just like Tony.
Mary had not been surprised when the private detective hired by Eric finally tracked her down just a week ago and told her Eddie had died in prison. Her two older brothers had both been executed the moment they walked out of prison.
Mary had been surprised by the private detective’s next words. Not only did Eric want her to come home, but he and Ruth wanted to help her get free of potential charges of child endangerment and assault. With regard to the assault charge, they thought she had nothing to worry about. Even Eddie said he deserved the black eye. And Eric knew and liked the caseworker assigned to Justin and Mary because of the child endangerment issue. He believed she would be receptive to Mary’s situation. Still, it chilled Mary’s heart. She knew the law. Once a report is made, be it by a doctor or police officer, concerning a minor exposed to illegal drugs, an investigation starts and a caseworker is assigned. That’s why Mary ran in the first place.
She walked across the wooden floor to the window and stared out at Justin. She’d show him that honor and respect were traits to believe in. She’d do it the legal way. Her son wandered down the embankment, clearly torn between what he wanted to do and what he thought his mother would allow. Mary knew that with every fiber of his being, her son wanted to be out there, looking for Alma with Mitch.
Not a chance.
“You okay?” Eric stood in the doorway, looking and acting more like a big brother than baby brother.
“I’m fine. So what happened to the baby who’s missing?”
Eric didn’t need much prompting. “It’s the craziest thing. There was some type of Hispanic celebration in town—”
“Gila City?”
“Yes. Angelina was there with her mom and one of her brothers plus his family. Her nephew needed to use the restroom, so Angelina took him. She had little José in a stroller. Manny, that’s the nephew, apparently got upset at being shut in the port-a-potty, so Angelina stepped in for just a moment. When she stepped out the stroller was gone. At first, she thought her older brother was pulling a prank on her.”
Mary’s eyes misted.
“He wasn’t,” Eric growled.
“Do you really think the girl we found might have some connection?”
“Yes, and it’s our first real lead.”
“Our? Man, you sound like a cop.”
“And it feels good. Look, Angelina’s from a great family. Her father was killed just a year ago. In a way, his murder was by the same crowd who killed Ruth’s first husband.”
“I’m so sorry.” The words didn’t seem enough. Mary hadn’t even met Ruth, or Megan, her new niece,
