Finding Her Son(22)

The man leaped over Perry’s rickety desk and crashed through the window. Mitch skidded across the old wood floor, hitching through the opening onto the fire escape. The perp bounded down to the first landing and then hurtled to the ground.

Mitch eyed the distance. Too far. He took the steps as quickly as possible, cursing every one. A few months ago, he would’ve had this guy the second the assassin hit the brown, winter grass. Mitch jumped the last few stairs and landed on the turf. His leg seized, but he ignored the pain. Some kids stood staring, a soccer ball rolling across the yard. Mitch couldn’t risk a shot. He gripped his gun as the man raced past the group.

Mitch’s legs pumped hard in pursuit as the kids scattered, but the man shot off like he was used to doing hundred-yard sprints. Within seconds the killer shoved through a fence. By the time Mitch slammed open the gate, his quarry had disappeared. A motorcycle revved and peeled away, but Mitch couldn’t see anything through the thicket of trees guarding the street.

Cursing, Mitch slipped his gun back into the holster. What good was rehab if he couldn’t run down a murder suspect?

And he’d left Emily alone.

Mitch raced back to Perry’s office, using the stairs this time to preserve the scene. Expecting to see her trembling in the hallway, his gut fell when he reached the second floor. Empty. Silent.

Had the whole thing been a diversion? Had someone else been waiting to take her?

He redrew his weapon and entered the room. There she was, behind Perry’s desk, rifling through the papers. Not just papers. Evidence.

“What are you doing? This is a crime scene.”

“He’s my last connection.” Emily tore through another drawer, eyes wild with desperation, her movements frantic. “There has to be something here. Something about Joshua. The tattoo. The cops.”

Mitch limped around the desk. He tugged at her hands, enclosing them in his fists, and pulled her away from the stack of papers. “Look at me, Emily.” She raised her gaze to his, and he released one hand to let his finger run down her cheek. “Let’s go into the hall and call for the crime-scene unit.”

She tugged away from him. “Don’t treat me like I’m a fragile doll. I’m not.”

Her hand hovered over her throat as her husky voice cracked a bit—a stark reminder of just how much she’d endured.

“Perry can’t just be gone.” She stared at his body.

The killer had used a hollow point. The PI hadn’t stood a chance. Her face lost all color, but she didn’t look away.

“He told me to come alone. To tell no one.” She rounded on Mitch. “You heard him. Did you reveal to anyone where we were going? Tanner, maybe?”

The unspoken accusation hung like poison between them, her suspicions palpable. Mitch stiffened, but as he stared at what was left of Perry’s head, and the blood and brain splattered across the floor, his mind clicked through the possibilities of who might have known of their destination. Ian knew. Tanner knew. If his boss had told anyone…She had every right to be distrustful.

So did Mitch.

Until he was sure who had killed Perry and tried to kill Emily, he had to be extremely cautious. He couldn’t trust the police department. The realization skewered his gut.

Mitch guided her into the hallway, pressed close against him. “A few months ago, I would’ve ignored the suggestion someone I know could be responsible for attacking you. Or for killing Perry. Since then, the man I trusted more than anyone on the force set me up for an ambush. He caused this.” Mitch tapped his bad leg. “I’m not discounting anything anymore.” He turned Emily in his arms. “That means we’re on our own. Fewer resources to find your son until we’re certain who our friends are. Can you live with that?”

“Perry paid with his life for helping me. It’s my fault. I can’t ask you to take that same risk.”

Her voice had turned monotone. Shock had settled in.

“His death’s not your fault. Blame the guy who pulled the trigger.” He willed her to look at him until the cloudy, stunned look faded from her expression. “I will tell you one thing, though. This means Perry was onto something. He discovered a connection he shouldn’t have, and they wanted him silenced.”

Mitch pulled out his cell phone, and Emily stilled his hand.

“Who are you calling?”

“The police. I have to notify them of the shooting. No choice. If I don’t, someone else will, and we can be placed here.”

Mitch didn’t like the churning in his gut. He studied Emily’s jittery movements as he made the call. Her life was at stake. He couldn’t let her down, so he’d have to accept the weight of his deception. Until he could uncover the truth.

“They’ll be here in a few minutes. I need you to think back to every conversation you’ve had with Perry in the past month.”

Emily bit down on the side of her lip, concentrating. “He got real excited about Sister Kate’s shelter. Said things didn’t smell right there. You heard the phone call. Oh, he really wanted me to get a good look at Ghost’s tattoo.”

Pain flashed in her eyes, and she massaged her temple. Mitch had seen that look before. When he’d pushed her to remember that night, she’d had the same expression.

“You’re starting to remember,” he said.