Tracking Justice. Shirlee McCoy

doorbell rang again. This time she didn’t run to answer it. Didn’t believe that somehow Brady would magically appear on the porch, tired and scared but with some explanation that would make sense. Maybe some story about sleepwalking or thinking that Mrs. Daphne’s dog was outside whining for his attention.

      She walked into the living room, her heart heavy and aching, her chest tight.

      Captain Slade McNeal stood near the front door, his dark hair mussed, his face drawn and weary. “Eva, I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. I had to wait for my son’s babysitter to arrive.”

      “It’s okay.” Her voice sounded hollow and old.

      “Have you found any evidence, Cunningham?” Slade turned to the patrol officer.

      “I checked the back window. It looks like someone popped the lock on it. I’ve already called for an evidence team.”

      “Good. Are you going to take Justice out to track Brady, Austin?”

      “Yes. We’ll start around back and work our way from there.”

      “I’ll come with you.” Eva pulled her old wool coat from the closet near the door. There was no way she could put Brady’s life in someone else’s hands. No way she could trust that anyone else would look as hard or as long as she would. He was her son, after all. Her responsibility.

      “The best thing you can do for your son is stay here and answer the captain’s questions. The more information you provide, the faster we can narrow down our search.” Austin walked onto the porch, and she followed.

      He might not want her to help with the search, but she had no intention of staying behind. Brady needed her, and she needed to be there for him. That was the way it had been from the moment he was born, the bond between them so strong that she’d thought that nothing would ever tear them apart.

      Something had.

      Someone had.

      She clenched her fist.

      Brady was okay. He had to be.

      “I’ve called in Lee Calloway. I’ll have him question the neighbors while I work with Cunningham and the evidence team.” Slade stepped outside, and Eva walked down the porch stairs, letting him approach Detective Black. They could talk all they wanted. She was going to look for her son.

      Please, God, just let him be okay. Please, help me find him.

      Please.

      She could not lose her son.

      Wouldn’t lose him.

      If that meant searching alone while the police collected evidence and speculated on the who and why and how of Brady’s kidnapping, so be it.

      TWO

      Justice whined impatiently as Austin followed Eva around the side of the house. She stood near the window, staring aimlessly into the backyard, her arms wrapped around her waist.

      “You need to go back inside,” he said.

      “I need to find my son, Detective. He’s my life.”

      “I know.” Austin didn’t have children yet, but he’d heard the same story dozens of times over his years in search and rescue. He knew the depth of fear and longing, the hope and despair that lived in a parent’s heart when a child disappeared. “I’m going to help you do that, but you need to help me.”

      “By going inside and answering a thousand questions?” she asked, her eyes shimmering with tears. None fell. She looked young, but tough. Like someone who’d lived through trouble, and who expected to live through more.

      “If that’s what it takes to find Brady, then, yes.”

      “I can’t go back inside.”

      “You have to, because the longer I have to stand here talking to you, the longer it’s going to take me to get started on the search.”

      “I—”

      “Go inside, Eva.” He cut her off, crouched near Justice and held out Brady’s shirt. “Ready, boy?”

      Justice snuffled the fabric, then bent his long snout to the ground. He circled the area, bypassing Eva, who didn’t seem at all interested in following orders.

      “Do you think he can find Brady’s scent?” she asked.

      “Yes.”

      “Will it lead us to Brady?”

      “Hopefully.”

      “What—”

      “Justice is ready to track. I can’t let him start until you’re inside.”

      His words were like a splash of ice water in Eva’s face.

      Of course, he couldn’t start the search while she stood there asking questions.

      She blinked back hot tears, hating the weakness that made her want to beg and plead and cry. She was strong. She had to be, but she didn’t feel strong. She felt weak and scared, and she wanted to hover around Austin until he promised that he’d bring Brady home to her.

      She pivoted, willing to do anything to have Brady back.

      “Eva,” Detective Black called as she reached the corner of the house.

      “Yes?” She stopped, but she didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t want him to see her despair.

      “I’ll do everything I can to bring Brady home to you.”

      She did turn then, wanting to thank him for the reassurance. The words died as she watched him hold Brady’s little shirt out to the dog.

      Justice huffed out a breath and barked.

      “Seek,” Detective Black commanded, and the bloodhound took off, his handler running along behind him. Across the backyard, into the neighbor’s. Out onto the street beyond.

      She lost sight of them there.

      If she could have, she would have followed them, but she knew she had to go back. Do what she’d been told. Answer dozens of questions that might, if God were willing, bring her son home.

      He certainly hadn’t been willing to bring her parents’ murderer to justice, but she had to believe that this time He’d answer her prayers.

      Please, God. Please.

      She walked around to the front of the house, skirting by several police officers who were standing on the front porch. Three police cars were parked on the curb, another one across the street. One in the driveway. Lots of people, and that had to be a good thing.

      Didn’t it?

      She hoped so, because every minute that passed was a minute that Brady was alone with...

      She cut the thought off. Didn’t want to acknowledge what had been floating around in her head since Detective Black had mentioned the crime at Slade’s house.

      Had Brady seen something?

      He shouldn’t have. He wasn’t allowed to play outside by himself, and Mrs. Daphne didn’t like being outside in the cold. Arthritis, she always said, and who was Eva to say differently? At seventy, Mrs. Daphne deserved to stay inside if it was what she wanted. The rule was, Brady stayed inside with her. A tough one for him to want to follow. He was high energy and active, and he loved being outdoors.

      Had he skirted the rule?

      Snuck outside or convinced Mrs. Daphne to let him go?

      Her house was close enough to Slade’s for Brady to have had a clear view of it from the yard. But could he have seen enough to make him the target of a criminal?

      She didn’t know. Didn’t even want to speculate. All she wanted was her son.

      She