Tracking Justice. Shirlee McCoy

should only take a few minutes.”

      “All right.” She sat on the edge of the couch, her body trembling and cold.

      “Was Brady with Mrs. Daphne today?”

      “Yes.”

      “What time did you pick him up?”

      “Six.”

      “Did he mention anything unusual about his day? Anything that concerned you or him?”

      “Nothing. He did seem...quiet.” She knew where the conversation was heading, and she took a deep breath, tried to relax.

      He narrowed his eyes. “You heard what happened at my house yesterday afternoon?”

      “Yes. Detective Black told me.”

      “Then you know that my father was attacked and Rio was stolen. Do you think it’s possible that Brady saw what happened?”

      “He didn’t mention it, but I guess anything is possible.”

      Slade jotted something in a notebook, asked another question and another.

      Eva answered all of them as best she could. She couldn’t collapse, couldn’t let herself give in to the emotions that beat like bat wings in her stomach. She wanted to, though. Almost wished she had someone to lean on. Someone who could put an arm around her shoulder and tell her everything would be all right. There was no one. She wasn’t sure there ever had been.

      The clock on the fireplace mantel ticked the time away. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

      Nearly an hour since Eva had realized Brady was gone.

      An hour that he’d been missing. An hour that he’d been terrified, cold. Hungry, because he always was.

      She wiped clammy hands on her pajama pants, swallowed down bile. “Are we almost done, Slade?”

      “I just have a few more questions to ask.”

      “I’ve already answered dozens, and I’ve answered some of them more than once.”

      “We have to be thorough, Eva. It’s the only way to get your son back.”

      “The only way to get my son back is to go out and look for him. That’s what I’m going to do.” She stood, her legs shaky. “Where’s Detective Black?”

      “Tracking Brady. If things go well, your son will be home before dawn.”

      “And if they don’t?”

      “I can’t answer that, Eva. Sometimes kids are returned home in an hour or two. Sometimes it takes longer.”

      She sucked in a breath. “And sometimes it doesn’t happen at all?”

      “I think you know the answer to that. I also think that you know we’ll do everything we can to bring Brady home to you.”

      She’d wanted reassurance.

      She’d gotten truth, instead.

      She should be thankful for it but she just felt sick, her stomach heaving, stars dancing in front of her eyes. “I need some air.”

      She ran outside, letting cold air bathe her hot face.

      “Is everything okay, Ms. Billows?” Officer Cunningham asked, stepping away from a group of officers he’d been talking to.

      “Do you know where Detective Black is?” If Slade couldn’t give her an exact location, maybe he could.

      “He’s organizing the search team.”

      “Where?”

      “Headquarters are at the east entrance of the Lost Woods. We have a team setting up there. I’m sure Captain McNeal explained everything to you.”

      Eva nodded as if he had, but she’d been told nothing. Maybe Slade hadn’t known. Maybe he just hadn’t told her. The second seemed more likely than the first. He’d taken several phone calls during the interview. At some point, he must have been told that Detective Black was setting up at the Lost Woods.

      He had chosen not to share the information.

      It didn’t surprise her. She’d learned all about police silence after her parents’ deaths.

      She walked back inside, grabbed her purse, slipped her feet into old sneakers.

      “Where are you heading?” Slade asked.

      “I told you that I was going to go look for my son.”

      “I can’t recommend that.”

      “Can you stop me?” Because unless he had a legal reason to keep her at the house, she didn’t plan on being there. Not for a minute longer.

      He hesitated, then sighed. “You’re not a suspect, and you’ve answered all my questions. As long as I can get in touch with you if I need to, I guess I can’t keep you here.”

      “I have my cell phone.” She jotted the number on a scrap of paper and handed it to him, trying hard not to look into his eyes. She respected Slade. He was a good man who’d always been a good neighbor, but if his son, Caleb, were the one missing, he wouldn’t be sitting in his house answering questions while other people searched.

      “Just be sure you don’t get in the way of the search, Eva. If you do, it won’t help Brady.”

      “I know. I just need to...be doing something.” She grabbed Brady’s coat from the closet, telling herself that she was bringing it to him. That she’d go to the Lost Woods and see him standing with the search team, cold but fine.

      She jogged down the porch stairs and across the yard, unlocking the station wagon and sliding in behind the wheel. She slammed the door closed as several people called out to her. A few were neighbors. One was a stranger, a reporter maybe.

      She didn’t care.

      All she cared about was Brady.

      “Please, for once, just start!” she muttered as she shoved the key into the ignition. The starter clicked once, then again. Finally, the engine sputtered to life and she pulled away from the curb, glad for once for her father’s advice. Never park in the driveway or the garage, kid. If you do, it’ll be too easy for the police to block in your vehicle and keep you from running.

      Yeah, Ernie had been overflowing with little tidbits of information. Especially when he’d been drinking.

      A police cruiser pulled in behind her, lights on. No sirens, though. No doubt Slade had called in a tail. He’d probably call it an escort. Either way, Eva knew her rights, and she didn’t stop or slow down. That was another thing Ernie had taught her.

      He’d also taught her that people couldn’t be trusted. Not strangers, not friends and certainly not family. A good lesson that she’d forgotten once and would never forget again.

      The road leading out of the neighborhood was nearly empty, the moon hanging low above distant trees. A quarter mile, and she was outside Sagebrush city limits, sparse trees and thick scrub lining the two-lane highway. She knew the way to the Lost Woods. There weren’t many people in Sagebrush who didn’t. The place was legend, the deep wilderness a siren’s song that had called more than one explorer to his doom.

      She shivered, flicking on the heater and grimacing as cold air blew out of the vent. The car was a junker, but it ran. Until she finished school and got a better-paying job, there was no way she could afford better. It didn’t matter. She and Brady had what they needed and they had each other. She’d told herself that often over the years. She’d believed it, too. As much as she cringed when she thought about the mistake she’d made, the lies she’d bought into, the things she’d given away, she couldn’t regret Brady.

      A tear slipped down her cheek. The second of the night, and if she wasn’t careful there would be more. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her fingernails digging into hard plastic