Finding Her Son(52)

Heather peeked around the door. “I heard you were back.”

Emily motioned the girl in and studied her face. “The bruises have faded a bit.”

Heather touched her cheekbones. “I decided not to go back to him.”

“I’m glad,” Emily said, tucking Joshua’s photo under her pillow. “You deserve better. We all deserve someone in our life who puts us before themselves.”

“I’m finally starting to believe that,” Heather said, tugging at her maternity top. “Sister Kate introduced me to the agency you told me about. They said they can find a good home for my baby.”

“What do you think?”

“That I don’t have a job, and my family can’t help me. That I can’t take care of my baby.” Tears slid down Heather’s cheeks. “I think I have to give her up. Does that make me a bad person?”

Emily stood and wrapped her arms around the girl. “I think it makes you a mother who loves her child more than herself. It makes you a hero.”

“I want my baby to be with a family who will love her, but I need to be sure.” Heather wiped her eyes. “Snake is going to be really mad.”

“Snake?” Emily covered her mouth. “Your boyfriend is really named Snake?”

“Y-yes.” Laughter filtered through the room. “Some guy was willing to pay twenty-five thousand dollars if our baby was born with blond hair. Can you believe that? Snake made a deal with the guy. Snake would do anything for that kind of money.” Heather caressed her abdomen. “Even sell his daughter.”

Emily’s hand stilled on Heather’s back. She met the girl’s teary gaze. “I need to talk to your boyfriend. Would you be willing to call Snake for me? Lie to him?”

Heather paused, uncertain. “Would I have to see him?”

“No, but I need to know who’s involved in taking these babies, Heather. Your boyfriend could be the key to finding my little boy.”

“You’ve been so nice to me, Mrs. W. I’ll call him.”

“Get your phone while I write down what I want you to say.”

Emily’s pulse pounded, a flicker of hope reigniting. She could create an imaginary Scandinavian husband who wanted a blond-haired girl who looked like him. The adoption agency might very well contact Snake. It was worth a shot. Emily looked down at her clothes. No way would this sell her as a wealthy want-to-be mother. She’d have to go back to the house. Find something appropriate.

Within a half hour Emily had absconded with Sister Kate’s keys. The nun had argued with her, but Emily had assured her she’d be right back. She struggled to find the gear on the ancient Impala and headed toward home.

As she reached the curve, she sucked in a deep breath. Eric’s cross was still bare. “What did you know, Eric? What didn’t you tell me?”

The memorial had no answers, and neither did she. Emily pulled down the street and studied the house she and Eric had bought together. Yellow crime-scene tape blocked the door, but that wouldn’t stop her. Her key slipped easily into the lock, and she pushed into her home.

“I knew you’d come back eventually.”

Emily froze. Ghost rose from the sofa. A line of opened wine bottles, crackers, cheese and trash littered the coffee table.

She clutched her bag closer, taking comfort in the heavy metal inside. “You’ve made yourself at home,” she said, her words coming out slowly, feeling her way for the weapon. Just a few more seconds.

“Unfinished business,” he said with an arrogant grin.

“We certainly have that.” Emily pulled out the Glock and held it on the man who had come to symbolize her search for her son.

Ghost paused and then smiled, his glittering teeth giving her a glimpse of how he must’ve charmed all those young girls to give their babies away.

“Who’s your contact?” she asked. “Where do you take those girls?”

“I have a lot of contacts, Mrs. Wentworth. A certain police officer you know very well, for example.”

She shook her head. “Mitch would never—”

“Interesting.” He continued to grin. “You assumed I meant your lover. I could’ve meant his boss, or a beat cop who roams around the neighborhood. You can never tell the good guys from the bad guys these days.”

“I know which one you are,” Emily said, disgust lacing her tone. “You take advantage of those teenagers.”

“They’re sluts. They get what they want. Money and no kid to take care of. I’m providing a valuable service.” Ghost grabbed one of the wine bottles that Eric had taken so much pride in collecting and tipped it back. “You want your son?”

Emily nodded her head, her hand still steady on the weapon.

“You’d do anything, wouldn’t you?” Ghost muttered with a smirk.

“Yes.” She swallowed back the eagerness and tried to remain calm. She could do this. For Joshua’s sake.

“Then come with me. Come with me, and I’ll show you where your son is.”

He could be lying, but she’d believed from the beginning that Ghost could lead her to Joshua.

“I keep my weapon.”

Ghost took another step forward. “I don’t think so.” He smiled and kicked the coffee table aside. “You don’t have the guts to shoot me.”