Finding Her Son(53)

With a howl, he launched his body at her, arms outstretched.

Emily squeezed the trigger.




MITCH STARED IN DISBELIEF at the tracking map. Sister Kate had promised to keep an eye on her. Why had Emily gone back to her house? He gunned the accelerator forward just as the radio he’d pilfered from the police department squawked to life.

“Report of shots fired…”

When the dispatcher quoted Emily’s address, Mitch cursed and floored the gas pedal. She could be injured. Or worse. If anything happened to Emily…

He couldn’t bear the thought. It would be his fault. He should’ve locked her up to keep her safe even if she hated him for it. At least he’d know she was okay.

Sirens wailed behind him as he flew up the mountainside, but he didn’t care. Let them arrest him…once he knew Emily was okay.

He focused on navigating the sharp turns, nearly running into an old, junky Impala trundling down the hill, until a loud beeping sounded at his side. He glanced at the tracking system. Emily was on the move again. And she’d just passed him.

His gaze hit his rearview mirror. He could barely make out the taillights of the Impala rounding a curve when his phone rang. Mitch punched the speakerphone as he searched for a place to make a U-turn on the mountain road.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tanner barked. “I’ve got officers in pursuit of Noah’s car, with you at the wheel, I presume, and shots at Emily Wentworth’s home address. You are so fired.”

“Fine. Fire me. Emily was at the house. Now she’s headed back down the mountain. Or at least her phone is.”

“How do you know?”

“The cell has a tracking device planted in it,” Mitch muttered.

“You keep after the signal. If Emily’s in the car, we want to know. We’ll check out the house. I’ll get back to you. But, Bradford, we are having a long conversation before you’re back in my unit.”

“Dane.” Mitch had to trust his instincts again. “Work with Lieutenant Decker to pick your team. I trust him. No one else.”

“Will do, Mitch. I’ll keep in touch.”

Mitch dropped his phone on the seat. For ten minutes he tracked the Impala but couldn’t quite catch up. Whoever drove it knew downtown Denver like the back of their hand.

Finally, the phone rang.

“Bradford.”

“Emily’s not here,” Tanner said quietly.

The hesitation in the man’s voice made Mitch’s gut churn. “But…”

“The house is pretty trashed. There’s blood spatter in the living room. Someone’s hurt.”

Mitch gripped the steering wheel and glanced at his side. “According to my tracker, the car’s stopped.”

“Where are you? I’ve got the lieutenant and his team on standby.”

“Coming up on Fifth and Colfax.” He caught sight of the car, and two figures disappearing into an abandoned apartment building, one slight, with a sway of hips he recognized all too well. Thank God. His heart started beating again for the first time since he’d heard the notification of shots. “I see her. With a big guy in a trench coat. Might be Ghost. They went into that old apartment building on Sixth.”

“I know it. I’ll get the team there. Wait for us, Mitch.”

“As long as I can.”

He stabbed the off button. Without any intel, he had no idea what he was walking into. All he knew was Emily was trapped inside.

He flipped his collar up and walked down the street, passing the Impala. Streaks of red smeared the front seat.

Blood.




GHOST SHOVED THE GUN into Emily’s side and she staggered through the door of the decrepit apartment building. All but one of the windows were boarded shut. The place looked abandoned.

“Get me upstairs to the first room on the left,” he rasped. “Don’t talk to anyone or you and them are dead.” They trudged up, and Emily studied the layout and each young girl’s face she met as they climbed the stairs and entered the room.

A square-jawed man with a military haircut stomped into the room behind them. “What the hell happened to you? And what’s she doing here? Are you crazy?”

“Sit down and shut up, Vance,” Ghost said as he flopped back on the bed.

He pulled away the bloody hand from his side. “Witch shot me, but I got her here. Get me some disinfectant and some bandages, will you?”

“You need the doc?”

“Nah. She grazed my side. Some butterflies’ll hold me for now.” Ghost propped himself up against the back of the bed, still aiming the Glock he’d wrestled away from Emily. “Once we find out what she knows, we’ll take care of her. I have to waste that kid, Ricky, too. He’s still poking around.” He glared at Vance. “You should’ve taken him out—”

“Shut up,” Vance said.

As he handed Ghost the medical supplies, Emily caught sight of a badge hanging out of his pocket. He was the cop.

“I had a bigger target. That warning shot should’ve shut her up.” He glared at Emily. “Doesn’t matter now. Once our problem upstairs is taken care of, Ricky won’t make trouble anymore. If he does, he and his grandmother will let a cop into the house. No one will care if an old lady and kid bite the dust. I’ll plant drugs or something.”