Finding Her Son(19)

“I have to see that blanket.”

“No. The person who sabotaged your car could be waiting. You’re not stepping into someone’s crosshairs.”

Mitch went to wrap his arms around her, but she shoved him back. Any vulnerability she’d let him see had vanished.

“I’m already a target.” She pulled at her turtleneck and revealed the jagged scar on her throat. “The doctors said I held the glass. That I cut myself. Well, I didn’t. And no one believes me, because my prints were on the shards.” She met his gaze. “I put flowers on that cross just yesterday. I have to see that blanket. I have to know if there was…blood there. I need to know I’m not imagining things.”

“I saw it, Emily. You’re not crazy. Stay with me.”

“I can’t. I need to know.” She jerked out of his arms and took off up the mountain. Mitch cursed, drew his weapon and started after her, his mind whirling. Emily’s scar was vicious. She’d almost died. Had that been the perp’s first mistake? If Emily had died from the wound, the whole hit-and-run could very well have been classified murder-suicide gone wrong.

The perfect crime. Her son would’ve been presumed dead.

She ran up the hill. She was in good shape. Normally Mitch would’ve caught her in a few steps, but his strides were uneven these days. He was gaining on her, but not fast enough. Mitch’s eyes scanned the surrounding terrain. On one side of the road, the cliff was steep. Not impossible to hide there, but tough. The other side made them vulnerable.

Finally, he caught up with her. She’d stopped, bent over, trying to catch her breath. Her swaying made him curse again. “You’re pushing too hard. You could be hurt and not know it.”

“I’m not stopping until I get that blanket.” She sucked in a lungful of air. “You wanted evidence. That’s evidence.”

“I should tie you up, but I can see it won’t do any good.” As frustrating as he found her determination, he admired it. “When we get there, don’t touch anything. And stay on my right. Between me and the steep side.”

Together they rounded the last curve. The cross poked out of the ground—a wreath of plastic poinsettias draped around it, a light dusting of snow completing a hideously wrong yet serene picture.

No blanket.

“What?” Mitch had seen the blanket and the red splatter pattern.

Emily collapsed on the side of the road. “They’re trying to drive me crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” Mitch pulled her to her feet and lifted her chin. “Whoever’s doing this is vicious. They used the blanket to make you hit your brakes. It was a setup. They tried to kill you and make it look like an accident, but they failed. You didn’t go over the side of the road. You’re here.”

“But the blood?”

“It wasn’t real. Too bright. Dried blood is dark in color.”

She sagged against Mitch. “Joshua has to be alive. I can’t go on if he isn’t.”

“We’ll find Joshua. I promise.” It was a vow he would probably regret making, but right now, at this moment in time, it was the right thing to do.

He scanned the area. Just to the side of a recently replaced guardrail, several tall pines and an outcropping of boulders would be good cover—at least until the units showed up. Mitch lifted her in his arms and walked to the shelter. Such a tiny thing. He set her down and unzipped his coat, tucking her against his chest, and held her.

He stood there, holding her, their body heat combining, the outside cold seeping away as he surveyed the landscape surrounding them, searching for a sign, a movement, of anyone watching them. A slight shiver fluttered through Emily.

“Why are they doing this to me?”

Her quiet voice twisted Mitch’s heart. He’d seen enough depravity in his time at SWAT to realize human beings could do almost anything, but what they’d done to Emily took true desperation…and a special kind of callousness.

“I’m going to find out,” he said.

She shifted away from him and pushed her hair out of her face. “I need to call Perry. He’ll worry.” She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out the phone. Not much charge, but she pressed the button. “It still works.”

Mitch stayed her fingers. “Perry knew when you were going to rendezvous. You realize that.”

“I could’ve been anywhere when he called. He didn’t know I was home.”

“Not unless he’s been following you,” Mitch said. “You have to consider he’s been paid off. His history—”

“I don’t want to believe that. Except for William, he’s the only one who ever helped me.”

Mitch wanted to shout, “Until me,” but he couldn’t. The words were almost true. How could investigating her and deceiving her be considered helping her? No. Too many lies lay between them. He couldn’t add one more. Trouble was, she was getting to him.

Screaming sirens tore up the mountain. Mitch’s focus shifted from Emily to the decorated cross to her cell phone. He couldn’t be sure who to trust, either. This case had just become very complicated.




EMILY SAT IN A PATROL car, out of the freezing wind, as law enforcement crawled all over the mountain like a swarm of ants. Quite the response when a SWAT officer’s personal vehicle blew up. They’d blocked off the road and now searched for evidence.