Her Stolen Son (7 page)

She stared at a squirrel skittering up a tree in the
yard, the tree where Parker and Petey had built his tree house, and her stomach churned.

“The last few weeks Parker acted differently. I was worried that being undercover had changed him. He seemed moody, distant, secretive, and I…thought…” She let the words trail off.

“Thought what, Serena?

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “That he might be doing drugs himself.”

Colt grimaced. “Sometimes an undercover cop is forced to do things he wouldn't normally do just to fit the role.”

She shrugged. “His undercover job was driving a wedge between us. When he was here, which wasn't often, we argued a lot. I even…suspected him of having an affair.”

“What made you suspect another woman?”

“Cryptic calls at all hours of the night. Hang up calls when I answered.” She scrubbed at a smudge on the window. “Twice I smelled perfume on his clothes. And once I grabbed his cell phone when a call came in and saw a woman's name. Dasha.”

“Did you confront him?”

“He said it was somebody he worked with.”

“The woman could have been part of the undercover job,” Colt said. “Let me show you something else.”

“God, what now?”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “Let's go downstairs.”

She fought the sense of trepidation overpowering her.
If Petey was missing because Parker had done something illegal, she would never forgive him.

Colt set his computer on the kitchen table, booted it up and opened a file. “Look at this photograph. This is the Lyle Rice you met?”

She nodded.

He clicked a few keys and various images of the man in different disguises appeared. “These are his aliases, at least the ones we've uncovered so far,” Colt explained. “He had passports in several names, as well.”

Serena watched the transformations, some subtle, some more extreme, in morbid fascination. “I can't believe this. He's a con artist.”

Colt nodded. “He was arrested for fraud and spent five years in jail. Guess who the arresting officer was?”

The truth dawned on Serena, making her pulse pound. “Parker.” She leaned closer to read the details of the arrest. “So Lyle Rice had a vendetta against Parker?”

Colt nodded. “It proves motive. And if he knew about that cash, maybe he cozied up to you in order to find it.”

“Then someone murdered him,” Serena concluded.

“You said the man who killed Parker is in prison. I'd like to pay him a visit and see what he can tell us. Maybe he has a connection to Rice. Could be Rice had a partner who killed him.”

“So Rice's partner framed me to get me out of the way so he could look for the cash.” She massaged her temple. “But why kidnap Petey?”

Colt shrugged. “Maybe he's going to ask for a ransom.”

Serena worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Then why hasn't he already called? And why try to kill me?”

Unless money wasn't the motive. He just wanted revenge against Parker.

Which didn't bode well for Petey.

Colt phoned Ben to discuss the connections between Parker Stover's murder and Rice. “Derrick is here. I'm putting you on speakerphone,” Ben said.

“Colt, we didn't find any fingerprints outside my house or inside the room where Petey was sleeping.” Derrick paused. “But I had plaster casts made from the shoe prints in the dirt. They were size twelve boots.”

Now if they could only find those boots they might find the man. Or vice versa. “Thanks,” Colt said. “I'm going to check out Rice's place, but I'll wait until dark.” He didn't want the sheriff finding him unlawfully searching a crime scene. “And I want to talk to Stover's murderer. Can you give me his info?”

“Hang on a second.” The sound of Ben clicking keys followed. “Stover's murderer confessed and is doing twenty to life in Central Prison,” Ben said. “Name's Hogan Rouse.”

“Thanks.” Colt massaged a knot at the base of his neck. “Maybe he can lend some insight into Stover's undercover work and Rice.”

“How's Serena holding up?” Derrick asked.

Colt sighed. “She's trying to be tough.” Although he knew she was hurting. She was still staring out at the backyard as if she hoped Petey would magically appear from his fort or come riding up on his bike.

But the fact that there had been no ransom call had his nerves on edge.

“Bri and I feel terrible.” Derrick's voice thickened. “Let us know if there's anything we can do to help.”

“See what you can dig up on Rice's old cellmates. Maybe one of them can fill in some blanks.”

“I'm on it,” Derrick said.

Colt gripped his handset. “And put a trace on Serena's home and cell phone. If she gets a ransom call, maybe we can trace it.”

Ben mumbled, “Got it.”

Derrick made a low sound in his throat. “We have to find Petey, Colt. Bri and I know exactly how Serena feels. We're both blaming ourselves. For God's sake, I'm an agent and I let him get away.”

“It wasn't your fault, Derrick.” Colt swallowed hard. Petey had come to him, and he had let him down. “Let's stay positive and focus. We'll find him. We have to.”

He only prayed it was in time, that the kidnapper hadn't hurt him already.

He would never forgive himself if he had.

Colt disconnected, and walked over to Serena. Her big sad eyes made his heart ache.

“Petey loves to play on that tire swing,” Serena said. “And he and his dad spent hours building that fort. They even camped out in it the weekend they finished it. We grilled burgers and had a picnic and roasted
marshmallows. Then we crawled in sleeping bags and watched the stars through the trees. I still remember Parker telling Petey about being in Boy Scouts when he was young.” She sighed. “Petey said he wanted to grow up and be just like his dad.”

“Your husband obviously loved Petey very much,” Colt said, and found himself envying a dead man for the family who'd cherished him so much.

“So much that he put our lives in danger.” Pain flickered in Serena's eyes as she turned to him. “What did Parker get us into, Colt? What could have been so important that he'd risk his life and ours for it?”

She paced across the room, flinging her hands. “Was he addicted to drugs? Did he suddenly become greedy and want the money? Or had he intended to leave me for this other woman?”

“Serena, stop.” Colt crossed the room, gripped her arms and forced her to look at him. “Don't do that to yourself. We don't know what happened yet. Parker could have had good reason to have that money and for everything he was doing. When you work undercover, sometimes it's best, safer even, not to share your work with those you love. Keeping his two lives separate was probably his way of protecting you.”

Hell, he didn't know why he was defending the man, except he had worked undercover and he knew firsthand how hard it was to walk that line. How hard it was to live two lives and not let one bleed into the other. How quickly dangerous criminals could come after a loved one in retaliation.

Serena dropped her head forward with a labored sigh,
and he pulled her up against him and wrapped his arms around her, soothing her. She leaned into him, and he rocked her gently. She smelled like fresh peaches and cream, and he itched to kiss her.

But that would be foolish. She was still grieving for her dead husband and terrified for her son.

“I'm heading to the jail to question the man who killed him,” he said gruffly. “Derrick and Ben are also researching Rice's former cell mates. They might give us a lead.”

Serena lifted her head and looked up at him. “I'll go with you.”

She moved to grab her purse, but he gently closed his fingers around her wrist. Serena didn't belong in the same room with the filth housed in the maximum-security prison.

“No, you'll be safer here. Try to get some rest.”

Serena shuddered. “I hope you can make him talk.”

Gently he lifted one hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb. A flicker of something hot and needy flared in her eyes. His body reacted. His head screamed for him to walk away.

But the rest of him wasn't listening.

Instead, he tilted his head and gently closed his mouth over hers. One touch and his heart began to pound. She was tough in so many ways, yet sweet and tender in others, and he wanted to assuage her pain and feel her up against him.

She clutched his arms, her lips parting on a sigh
that sounded both weary and seductive, and his body hardened, aching to be closer to her.

 

S
ERENA'S BODY TINGLED
with awareness and need as Colt teased her lips and thrust his tongue inside her mouth. He tasted bold and masculine, the pressure of his hard muscular chest against her breasts igniting a hunger that she hadn't felt in a long time.

A hunger that she hadn't expected to ever feel again.

The very idea sent fear running through her blood. But Colt moaned soft and low, and the sound caught in her throat, tasting so delicious that she couldn't drag herself away from him. The last two days had been a living nightmare, and for just a moment, she wanted to forget all the pain.

Colt cradled her face with one hand, angling her head to deepen the kiss, and she met his tongue thrusts with her own, savoring the seductive allure of the intimacy. His other hand skated down her back to her waist and lower to pull her sex into the V between his thighs. The bulge in his jeans was rock hard and potent, and resurrected an aching need to touch him more intimately.

But reality interceded with the trill of the phone. They jerked apart, her breathing ragged, her heart hammering. Remembering that her son was missing, guilt assaulted her, along with panic, and she ran to answer the phone.

“Hello.”

Colt stepped up beside her, his black eyes still
glazed with hunger, but worry drew his mouth into a stern line.

“Serena, it's Joyce Hubbard, my God, I saw the news. I just can't believe what's going on with Petey. Have you heard anything?”

“Is it him?” Colt mouthed.

Disappointment ballooned in Serena's chest, and she shook her head to indicate it wasn't the ransom call. “No, Joyce. No word.”

She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to Colt. “It's one of my clients.”

“Tell her you need to keep the phone lines open,” Colt whispered.

She nodded. “Joyce, I appreciate your call, but I have to keep the lines clear in case the kidnapper calls.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you.” Tears laced Joyce's voice. “Meanwhile, I'll start a prayer chain.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Serena said. She could use all the prayers she could get.

Colt watched her with hooded eyes as she ended the call, and her lips tingled, craving his mouth again. She wanted comfort, wanted to lose herself to him, to feel his breath against her face and his hands on her body.

She needed to forget the hollow ache building inside her, an emptiness that intensified with every second that passed. She had lost Parker.

She could not lose her son.

Colt started to speak, but she shook her head. She didn't want to discuss what had happened between them.

She just wanted to repeat it.

And forget it at the same time.

Because she couldn't fill that hollowness with Colt Mason, a man of danger. No, she had to protect herself and her son from men like him.

She would use him to locate Petey. Then their relationship would have to end.

 

C
OLT SILENTLY CURSED
himself for touching Serena as he headed outside to his SUV. He'd lost his senses for a minute when he'd kissed her. Had forgotten his job, that he was working for her.

That she needed comfort, not the man who was supposed to rescue her child pushing himself on her.

He could never replace her husband.

Not that he wanted marriage or a family, but she and Petey still loved Parker. And he could not forget that and become emotionally involved.

Except for a brief moment, he had forgotten she was part of a case. He'd been consumed by the idea of taking care of Serena and finding little Petey and helping them piece their lives back together again.

With him in that life.

Dammit. He pulled his hand down his chin. He was a fool.

He started the engine and drove through Sanctuary, then onto the highway leading out of town. Two hours to the prison—he needed that time to clear his head.

Just because Serena was the sexiest woman he'd ever met, just because he'd grown tired of the danger and living a secret life, and had almost lost himself in the
process, didn't mean her husband had lost himself. That he'd turned dirty.

That
he
could have her and the family Parker Stover had left behind.

Hell, Stover might have been a damn saint. He had been a Boy Scout after all. Worked undercover. Put his life on the line for the greater good, to make the world a safer place. He built forts with his son and had cookouts and had given his life to the job.

Colt Mason was not about to walk in his shadow because he would pale in the light of day when the darkness inside him emerged.

Shutting off his emotions as he'd trained himself to do on the job, he focused on driving and the impending interview. Knowing most visits required an appointment, he phoned the warden at the prison and explained that he needed to question Rouse.

“I heard about the kidnapping,” Warden Pierce said. “Believe me, Rouse is a cop killer. That don't exactly make him popular around here. But don't expect him to confess his heart out. He's not a talker.”

“How about his cell mate? Or another prisoner he might have confided in?”

“Killed the last cellmate, so Rouse is just coming out of solitary confinement.” The warden sighed. “Rouse doesn't have any buddies either. He's a loner through and through.”

Colt grimaced. Interrogating Rouse might be a waste of time, but Colt had to pursue every possible lead. “Thanks, Warden, I'll be there in a couple of hours.”

Colt stepped on the gas pedal and accelerated. Petey's life depended on him.

Just like his brother's had.

He'd failed his brother.

Petey was one kid he wouldn't let down.

 

D
ESPERATE TO BLOCK OUT
the memory of Colt's kiss and purge her nervous energy, Serena scrubbed the kitchen. Tears blurred her eyes as she picked up Petey's cereal bowl. What if she and Petey never had breakfast together again?

She closed her eyes and mentally pictured her son sitting at the table dropping raisins onto his pancakes to make eyes and chocolate chips for a mouth, then opened her eyes and forced herself to believe that he was okay. That he would come home and they'd make those pancakes and go to the pumpkin patch in the fall and decorate holiday cookies for Christmas.

She dumped the milk and leftover cereal down the disposal, then rinsed and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. Her coffee cup went next, then she scoured the sink, counters and table, willing the cleaning chemicals to wipe away the stench of the previous day.

On a mission now, she yanked the leftovers out of the refrigerator and tossed the remains, then washed the containers and wiped down the shelves.

But as she scrubbed, the memory of that money in the attic returned to plague her. Why had Parker left so much cash in the house?

And if he'd left cash, what else could he have hidden from her?

Spurred by questions and adrenaline, she dried her hands, then tossed the kitchen towel on the counter and hurried toward the attic. Late afternoon shadows slanted lines across the wooden floor and walls. Dust motes floated in the remaining rays of light, the scent of mothballs hanging in the air.

Tension knotted her stomach as she spotted the trunk again. Colt had buried the money beneath the blankets and locked the duffel bag inside the trunk. She paused, studying the items in the attic, trying to remember what she had kept of Parker's.

The first few months after his death, grief had nearly immobilized her. But after several months of seeing his clothes in the closet and knowing that he was never coming home, she'd forced herself to pack them up and donate them to charity. Parker's parents had both died in a car accident years ago, so she hadn't been able to pass on his certificates of merit and awards, but she'd boxed them up, thinking that one day Petey would want to have them as a reminder of his courageous father.

Torn over her feelings now, she half feared what she might discover.

But Petey's life was in jeopardy, and she had to face whatever Parker had been involved with to save her son.

Two boxes in the corner drew her eye. One held mementos of their first dates. She opened the first one and found dozens of photos of her and Parker at a ballgame, playing putt-putt, at a local fair and vacationing at the Outer Banks. Below the pictures, she scrounged through a cigar box filled with movie and concert ticket stubs, a
menu from their honeymoon and a handwoven bracelet from Jamaica where he'd proposed.