Where the Blame Lies(90)

She heard the front door open and clicked the TV off quickly, standing and wiping her shaking hands down her hips as she listened to Zach greet the other two officers. Obviously, whatever she’d seen on the news had been from earlier.

The bedroom door opened and Zach came in, a strange look on his face that made her muscles tense. But then he smiled at her, even if his smile was a little sad.

“Where have you been?” she asked and cringed at the accusatory tone in her voice. Josie had the sudden urge to turn away, hide her face. She felt a scream rising up inside of her, a screeching wail that had been building since the day before. Zach had helped her release some of it the previous night, but it was gaining ground again, demanding to be heard.

“Working.”

“I saw you on the news,” she said, lacing her hands in front of her, casting her eyes down. “Coming out of a restaurant.”

Zach removed his gun and holster and set them on top of his dresser, turning to her. “Yeah. I grabbed a sandwich with my sister while we were waiting for some information to come in. I don’t even know how reporters were there. Maybe someone recognized me and called them.” He scratched his jaw. “This case has gotten big. Every reporter in Cincinnati is vying for a headline.”

His sister. “Your sister?” she whispered. “She . . . she doesn’t look anything like you.”

A small smile turned up his beautiful lips. And now that the haze of jealousy had cleared and she was really looking at him, he appeared so tired. Defeated almost. “I’m adopted.”

“Oh.” She frowned, thinking back to the things he’d told her about his family. “You didn’t mention it.”

“I forget sometimes.” He scrubbed at his face. “Josie . . .”

She tilted her head. Something was wrong. The internal scream amplified.

He walked to her, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and guiding her to the edge of the bed where he lowered her gently, and then sat down next to her. She stared at him, her heart beating triple time. “Josie,” he started again and then stopped.

“Tell me,” she whispered hoarsely. “Just tell me, Zach.”

He met her gaze, those midnight eyes that spoke of goodness, of safety, of a life she’d only ever imagined. “We found your son.”

Her heart dropped like a boulder as a strangled cry emerged from her lips. She grasped at Zach’s shirt. “Where? Where is he?” she cried desperately.

He raised his hands and covered hers, holding her fists against him. “He lives in Kentucky. He lives right across the bridge, Josie. Fifteen minutes from here.”

Hot tears were flowing like a river down her cheeks as she tried to continue breathing, tried to control the quaking that had taken over her body. “Is he okay? He’s healthy? He’s okay?”

“Yes. He’s fine. He’s perfect. He’s an ordinary eight-year-old boy.”

Josie tipped forward, her head hitting Zach’s chest as she sobbed, still fisting the material of Zach’s shirt, holding on for dear life. My boy. My boy. He’s safe. He’s alive.

When she’d managed to catch her breath, she turned her head so Zach could hear her question. “Who has him?”

He used his hands, still held over Josie’s fists to gently push her backward so he could look into her eyes. In his expression she saw heartbreak, empathy, and conflict. He was struggling. He told her about the social worker they’d met with the day before, Janelle Gilbert, and about her attorney sister. He told her how Cooper . . . Charles had taken a tiny infant to her and asked for her help. He told her about the couple who’d adopted her child while she lay bleeding and devastated in a hospital less than half an hour away. “They thought it was a legitimate adoption, Josie,” he told her, his voice husky with sadness. He let go of her fisted hands, smoothing her hair back from her face. “They didn’t know.”





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO


Josie’s hands lay laced in her lap, her muscles tensed to the point of cramping as she waited for Mr. and Mrs. Davies to arrive. Their lawyer sat across from her and Zach, seemingly relaxed as she typed into her phone.

Zach put his hand on top of hers, squeezing lightly, and she shot him a small nervous smile. He looked exhausted, and she knew he was, because he was being torn in every direction as he both worked to locate Reagan and offer support to her. And she was grateful, so very grateful that because of him, she was able to turn her attention to her found child with the full knowledge that absolutely no stone was being left unturned in the hunt for her friend.

Zach removed his hand from hers just as the door opened and her own lawyer, the man Zach had helped her retain directly after she’d learned of her son’s fate, escorted them into the room.

As introductions were made and the Davies’s lawyer greeted them, Josie took in the attractive couple. The woman’s eyes were red and puffy as though she’d been crying, and her face was etched with shock. She was petite, with straight, shoulder-length brown hair and wide blue eyes. Her husband was tall with wavy dark-blond hair and a short beard. He glanced at his wife worriedly and then they took their seats.

They all stared for a moment, the couple obviously as curious about Josie as she was about them. These people who had been raising her child, these people who knew everything about him, whereas she knew nothing.