Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(245)

When the fire had caught, he’d watched it for a minute and then started to go back through the woods to get his Lumina just as the Range Rover came up the road. Sixty thousand easy for a car like that.

After Pastor Ethan and Kristy Brown had jumped out, he’d gotten in and taken off. The damn kids in back hadn’t made a sound till he was way down the highway. Now, all they were doing was making noise.

“If you let us out of the car, I won’t tell Gabe what you did!”

Bobby punched the accelerator. “I’ll let you out, okay! Just not yet. I got to get farther away.”

“Now! You gotta let us out now! You’re scaring Rosie!”

“Shut up! Just shut up, will you?”

The curve came at him too fast. He heard himself make this funny sound in his throat, and then he hit the brakes.

The boy screamed in the back.

The car began to fishtail, and Bobby’s mom’s face flickered in his head. Mom!

He lost control.



Rachel couldn’t stop making whimpering sounds. Please, God . . . Oh, please . . . Please . . .

Gabe’s knuckles were white on the Mercedes’s steering wheel, his face gray beneath his tan. She knew he was thinking the same thing she was. What if they’d turned the wrong direction on the highway?

She told herself the police would find the children if she and Gabe couldn’t. Kristy and Ethan had stayed behind to notify them. And the skid marks at the bottom of the lane had been distinct. Still . . . They’d already gone over ten miles. What if they’d guessed wrong? Or what if the bastard they were chasing had pulled off onto a side road?

She couldn’t think about that. If she did, she’d start screaming.

Gabe sucked in his breath. “The car.”

She saw it then. “Oh, God . . .”

The Range Rover was turned upside down in a ditch ahead to their right. Vehicles had stopped; people were clustered together. There were two patrol cars and an ambulance.

Oh, God . . . Please . . . Please, God . . .

The Mercedes’s tires squealed, and a shower of gravel hit the undercarriage as Gabe pulled off the road. He jumped out of the car, and she ran after him, pebbles biting through the soles of the sandals Kristy had tossed at her. She heard him call out to the state trooper standing next to the ambulance.

“The children! Are the children all right?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m—I’m the boy’s father.”

The trooper jerked his head toward the stretcher. “They’re stabilizing the kid now.”

Rachel reached the stretcher just after Gabe did. But it wasn’t Edward. They gazed down at Bobby Dennis.

Without a word, Gabe spun toward the car and bent over to look inside where one of the doors gaped open. He immediately straightened. “There were two small children with him. A five-year-old boy, and a baby girl.”

The trooper grew immediately alert. “Are you saying this kid wasn’t the only one in the car?”

Gabe offered a brusque explanation while she ran to look inside the Range Rover. The straps on Rosie’s empty car seat dangled. Rachel looked frantically around and saw a white baby shoe in the weeds ten feet from the car.


“Gabe!”

He raced over to her.

“Look!” she cried. “Rosie’s shoe.” She squinted against the fading sun and spotted a tiny pink sock hanging in the weeds near a line of trees that marked the edge of a densely wooded area.

Gabe saw the sock at the same time she did. “Let’s go.”

Without waiting for the trooper, they moved into the woods together. Prickly bushes snagged at her skirt, but she paid no attention. “Edward!”

Gabe’s voice boomed. “Chip! Call out if you can hear us!”

There was no response, and they forged deeper into the trees. Gabe’s legs were longer than hers, and he quickly moved ahead. “Chip! Can you hear me?”

A low branch snared her shirt. She yanked it free, then looked up to see that Gabe had frozen in place.

“Chip? Is that you?”

Oh, God . . . She stopped in place and listened.

“Gabe?”

The voice was small and achingly familiar, coming from somewhere off to their left.

Gabe raced ahead, calling out. She rushed after him, her heart pounding.

The terrain sloped downward, and she slipped, then righted herself. Gabe disappeared. She followed the path he’d taken through a thicket of pines and came out in a clearing by a small creek.

That was when she saw them.

Edward sat huddled against the trunk of an old black gum tree some thirty yards away with Rosie curled in his lap.

“Chip!” Gabe’s shoes pounded the ground as he flew across the clearing toward the children. Rosie had been quiet, but as soon as she saw him, she started to scream. Both children were dirty and tear-streaked. Edward’s T-shirt was torn and one knee was scraped. In addition to her missing shoe and sock, Rosie’s pink romper had a grease smear across the front. Gabe went down on his knee, snatched her up with one arm, and threw his other one around her son.

“Gabe!” Edward clutched at him.

A sob tore her throat as she ran forward.

Gabe thrust Rosie at her and pulled Edward to his chest, then pushed him away far enough to lift his eyelids. “Are you all right? Does it hurt anywhere?”