Finding Her Son(63)

William struggled out of the car, getting caught up in the mangled metal of the hangar door and the BMW. He let out a string of curses as Emily scrambled out the door. Only one place to hide. She bolted for the hangar, hoping there would be a phone inside. Her mind whirled in disbelief. William? She couldn’t believe it. Was Joshua even here, or had he lied to get her here and kill her?

“Emily,” a weak voice called out from at least ten feet away.

Thomas. She hesitated and crouched beside the car.

“Save Joshua, Emily. He’s inside the hangar. Save—”

William stalked over to his father and aimed a Glock at Thomas’s head. “Don’t die easily, do you?”

“Why did you do this? Your own brother? Your nephew?” Thomas’s voice was weak and disbelieving.

“Eric called the cops. Someone had to take the fall, Father. They still do, and it won’t be me.”

“No!” Emily screamed.

William pulled the trigger.

She scrambled to her feet and raced to the hangar. Was Joshua really in there?

“Don’t bother running, Emily,” William said. “I have a spot picked out for you. I know exactly where you have to die to make my story stick.”

She wouldn’t let him win. Not after coming this close. She yanked open the metal access door and fell inside next to the Wentworths’ limo. She turned and locked the dead bolt just as William banged against the outside. Curses rained through the metal. Frenetically, she scanned the huge building for Joshua. He had to be here somewhere, but she could only see the plane and the limo and a lot of equipment. Where was her son?

She didn’t have much time. She needed help. She needed Mitch. Surely he’d received her text by now.

Unless William had never sent it.

Oh, Lord, of course he hadn’t. She had to find a way out, until somehow Mitch figured out what had happened. He wouldn’t give up. He’d fight for Joshua. She’d never seen anyone as intuitive and smart as Mitch Bradford. Whatever story William told, Mitch would see through it. He would believe in her. He would uncover the truth.

She just wished she’d told him she loved him. She’d been reluctant and afraid. Now it was too late.

Unless she fought back.

She could do this. Heart pounding, she shoved a heavy metal tool bin against the door and pushed some barrels behind it.

Another shot rang out and pinged near the lock. How long would her barricade keep him out?

A baby howled from inside the limo.

Emily stilled, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. What if…? She raced to the limo, terrified the wonderful, heartbreaking sounds of the baby’s cries would vanish like her morning dreams. She threw open the door. The smell of blood and death gagged her. A man and a woman sat motionless in the front seat, eyes sightless. Each had taken a bullet to the head.

Oh, no. Emily’s knees quivered.

Another howl wailed.

She could breathe again.

Emily peeked into the back and saw a diaper bag, then a car seat with an angry little boy in a snowsuit, waving his chubby arms and legs as he furiously tried to escape.

Beneath his stocking hat, he had brown hair. Like Eric’s. And the same stubborn chin.

His deep blue eyes. Just like hers.

Her entire body shaking, Emily tugged on the back door. Her hands wouldn’t work; her body could barely function. Finally the door opened, and she reached inside. “Joshua?”

The baby stopped crying and stared. Emily’s heart paused with uncertainty as his wary gaze transformed into a smile. The dimples were all his own. They always had been.

“It’s you.” She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face.

Another shot rang out, this time at a side door she hadn’t blocked.

The baby screamed in fear. “Don’t worry, Joshua. Mommy will save you.”

Her hands trembling, she shoved aside the heavy diaper bag, then tugged and pressed at the unfamiliar straps and latches of the car seat. “Come on, come on,” she said, frantic now. Just one left. Joshua cried even louder. Why hadn’t she waited for Mitch? He would’ve seen through William.

Another gunshot, and a metal crash sounded from directly behind her. She was out of time. The car seat’s straps finally gave in under her hand. She grasped Joshua and turned around slowly.

“You’re too late, Emily.”

William Wentworth, gun and all, had found his way in.




MITCH FLOORED THE TRUCK and barreled toward the Wentworths’ hangar. Thank goodness Sierra was a killer hacker. She’d pulled the data from the traffic cams and placed Wentworth’s BMW moving toward their private hangar. The flight plans indicated the Wentworths had taken the plane to Oklahoma and back. Put that together with Frank Mangino’s sister adopting a baby boy a year ago, and everything fit. Except Emily was still in danger. It didn’t take ten minutes to kill someone; it took seconds. Emily couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t let himself consider the possibility. She was strong; she was clever. She would stay alive. She’d know he would come for her. She had to know.

“You there, Dane?” Mitch said into his earpiece, praying his boss was close behind him.

“Still a few minutes away. SWAT is scrambling.”

Mitch skidded to a stop and jumped out of the truck. He scanned the area, then ran over to what was left of Thomas Wentworth. “I can’t hold off,” he said softly. “I’ve got a BMW buried into the side of the hangar. Thomas Wentworth is dead. Shot twice.” Mitch ran the twenty-five feet to the edge of the building. “The side door to the hangar has been shot open. I’m going in.”