The Cop's Missing Child. Karen Whiddon

      “Not a bad disguise,” Mac commented wryly. “But you still haven’t told me why you felt the need to disappear.”

      “Whoever killed Carlos—and the police were unable to determine even a reasonable suspect—came after me and my son.”

      Agitated, unable to sit still, she began pacing. “I think it might have been one of his mistresses. I told the police that and they investigated, but they couldn’t find anything. So I did the only thing I could. I sold everything, took whatever cash was left after paying the debts and ran.”

      “Here, to Anniversary.”

      “Yes. Until now, we were settling in nicely. I really liked it here.”

      Mac immediately picked up on her use of past tense. “Liked? Are you planning on leaving?”

      Chewing on her thumbnail, she forced herself to stop. “I’m not sure. If this keeps up, I have no choice.”

      “You don’t even know if this incident is related.”

      “How can it not be?” Emily protested. “This intruder took Ryan’s adoption records. That was the crux of the threats to begin with. Something about the way Carlos got our son.”

      “Did he use an adoption service?”

      “No. It was a private adoption. Apparently lots of money changed hands. I’m guessing, though I don’t know for sure, that whatever channels Carlos went through weren’t exactly on the up-and-up.”

      “As long as both parties signed the necessary paperwork and the documents were filed in a court of law …”

      With her throat closing up from the panicked feeling in her chest, she debated whether to go on. In the end, she couldn’t risk Mac not understanding the awful truth she suspected—that Ryan was her husband’s natural son with one of his mistresses. No way was she letting anyone take her son away from her. She’d die first.

      In a quiet voice, she relayed her suspicions.

      “I’ve tried to trace the adoption,” she admitted. “Any records beyond what I had were completely destroyed. It’s possible—though not certain—that my husband may have obtained Ryan’s birth certificate illegally.”

      To his credit, Mac showed no reaction—as if he heard stories like this every day. Then again, maybe he did.

      “So what you’re telling me is that you aren’t one hundred percent sure you have a legal right to your boy.”

      Just hearing the words made Emily feel as though she’d been punched in the stomach. She wanted to double over, and only a supreme act of willpower kept her standing upright.

      “I—” briefly she closed her eyes “—I don’t know.”

      Now Mac pushed back his chair and stood. As he moved closer, she figured he meant to shake hands and held hers out accordingly.

      Instead, to her complete and utter shock, he wrapped his muscular arms around her and gave her a quick hug.

      “I’ll keep this information between us for the time being. Right now, our focus is on finding whoever wrote you that letter and broke into your house.”

      Blinking back tears, she stepped out of his embrace and nodded. “Thank you.”

      Expression enigmatic, he simply watched her, as though waiting for her to say something else.