Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(33)

“Everett’s home address?” She blinked. “I don’t even know that.”

“You do now.” Courtney recited the address and phone number, and Josie repeated it back. It seemed Everett was now living north of Tampa.

“Would you text me when you find him?” Courtney asked. “I won’t sleep until I know he’s all right. Or if there’s anything I can help with, call me.”

“I will. You’re wonderful. Thank you.” Josie’s hand trembled as she put her phone away. Was Carson really trying to see his father?

“Here, I wrote the info down.” Seated on the couch, Holt pushed a paper toward her. He tapped the address. “Looks like he lives near the Avila Golf Course, north of Lake Magdalene. Maybe nine or ten miles from here. It’s pretty far to walk.”

Carson’s bike. Josie ran through the kitchen and outside to the carport. She turned to see Holt behind her. “His bike is gone.”

“Then we have a destination and a method of travel. I don’t like that you didn’t hear from either Carson or his dad. Have you tried calling Carson?”

“He doesn’t have a phone.”

“Ah.” Holt handed her the piece of paper. “Then call his father and see if contact was made.”

“No,” she whispered.

She looked up into firm gray eyes. “I’m sorry, pet. But it needs to be done.” His low voice was even but unyielding.

Call Everett. Everything inside her cringed. Yet Holt was right. All that mattered was Carson’s safety. She entered the number and waited as her phone rang and rang. When it stopped, she hit redial. Again. And again.

“Who the fuck is this?” a man snarled, and she recognized Everett’s voice.

“This is Josie Collier. My—our son—Carson found your address, and we think he might have—”

“Jesus fuck. Wait.”

Josie heard a woman murmur, and Everett saying, “Got to take this. It’s a client.”

A few seconds later, he came back on. “I cannot fucking believe you sent your bastard to harass me at my door. What do you want? Money?”

Rage filled her. “I didn’t know he was going to your house, and I certainly didn’t send him there. But for some foolish reason, he thought you’d like meeting your son.”

“He’s not my son.”

“I agree. You only provided the sperm. You’re certainly not any kind of a father. What did you say to my son?”

“What do you think? I told him to get lost. Jesus, it was a good thing I answered the door and not—”

Her anger tipped over. She punched END CALL and threw the phone as hard as she could.

With a quick snatch, Holt caught it. “Uh-uh. Your boy might want to call you, baby.”

Her throat clenched at the disaster he’d averted.

Absently, he handed her the phone, even as he spoke into his own cell phone. “Yeah, sorry about the late hour, Dan. I need a favor. My neighbor’s son attempted to see his absentee father over in Lake Magdalene and got the door shut in his face. Kid’s only eleven. Could you ask a local unit to swing by the area and see if they can spot him? We’ll be on our way there too.”

Josie heard Dan’s growling reply in the affirmative and something about Zane.

Holt grinned briefly. “Okay, I’ll owe you a night of babysitting. As soon as I’m allowed to lift more than eight pounds, yeah? Here’s the address.” He read it off.

A murmur came back.

“That’s it. Thanks, Dan.” Holt tucked his phone away and told Josie, “Dan’s a cop. He should be able to get a patrol car to that neighborhood. The officers might spot him—and if nothing else, their presence in the area will make it safer for Carson.”

“Thank you, and thank your friend for me.” She rose. “I’ll be on my way and—”

“No, you won’t.” His smooth voice sharpened to edged steel.

“But—”

“We’ll take your car, because Carson will recognize it, but I’m driving. Grab your purse and leave a note here for your boy in case he gets home before us. Have him call us if he does.”

“You—”

“You can’t drive and look for a boy in the shadows at the same time.” His eyes darkened, and he gripped her shoulder. “Car crashes aren’t pretty, sweetie. Your son needs his mother in one piece.”

Under that unwavering determination, all she could do was nod and hurry to get her purse.

*

Holt turned off Bearss Avenue into the smaller residential streets and glanced at the woman in the passenger seat.

Her short dark red hair was tousled, and the ends flipped out in all directions, making her look like an upset sprite. The ear-length cut emphasized her big green eyes and the sweet curve of her wide mouth. Her face was rounded with a pointed, stubborn chin, and he’d say his pretty neighbor resembled the stereotypical wholesome girl-next-door.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he said.

She stopped searching the street and turned to look at him. “I wish I’d bought him a phone like he wanted. Why didn’t I buy him a phone?” The tremor in her voice broke Holt’s heart.

“Because cell phones aren’t especially good for children, especially young ones?”