Sworn to Protect (26 page)

“Just kicking around town, hanging out with Ty. Nothing special.”

Ty. That name made him cringe. “Hanging out doing what? Smoking dope?”

“No! I—I’d never do drugs after . . .” The boy trailed off, tears welling in his eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

Damn it.
“I had to ask because I’m worried about you.” Daisy came into the room and sat in a nearby chair, silently lending her support just by being there.

“I’m fine,” the boy said. “I’m not going to cut classes anymore. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“In one day? You’ve been skipping since you came to stay with me, you’ve been gone all damned day long, and suddenly you’ve learned your lesson?”

“I have!”

“Something happened today,” he said with absolute certainty. “What’s going on, Drew? Did you boys get into more trouble? Is Frank Johnson hassling you?”

“No! We weren’t doing anything but messing around, and time got away from us—that’s all!”

The boy was lying. Shane exchanged a glance with Daisy and knew she had the same opinion. They were both good cops, but she was even better at reading kids than he was. And this one was scared, hiding something. It wasn’t Shane he was scared of, either, he was positive.

“I think I should go have another talk with Carl Eastlake. See if he can shed any light on where you boys were today.”

Drew’s face drained of color. “Please don’t talk to him,” he said in a choked voice. “He— he’s mean. He’ll beat Ty if you go over there with any more complaints about us. A-and I’m not going to be hanging out with him anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”

A half-truth. He smelled it. Drew reeked of fear.
What in God’s name is going on?

“All right,” he allowed. “We’ll talk more later about exactly where you went and what you did today. For now, I think it won’t come as any great shock to find out you’re grounded. Indefinitely. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Next, either Daisy or I will be driving you to school and picking you up for the foreseeable future. No off-campus lunch, either. Possibly until the end of the school year.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Last, if I have to sit in every one of your classes with you to make sure you attend, your teachers will not have a problem with that. Is that going to be necessary?”

“No, sir.”

“Tomorrow you will go to every one of them and gather all of your makeup work. Prepare to spend the next couple of weeks getting caught up.”

His head bobbed. “Okay.”

“Do you have anything else to say for yourself?”

“Just that I’m really sorry,” he said hoarsely. “This is all my fault. Everything.”

Shane could tell he wasn’t just talking about cutting school. But he couldn’t imagine what on earth had happened to make Drew act this way.

“I guess that’s it for now, then. Go to your room until it’s time for dinner, and no TV.”

Hanging his head, the young man walked away. Shane’s heart hurt watching him go.

“I’m proud of you,” Daisy said, standing to wrap him in a hug. “You handled that like a strong dad who was in control.”

“Thanks.” He took comfort in her warmth, as much as he could. “But there’s something really wrong, sugar. He’s scared of something.”

“I agree. I thought he was going to pass out when you mentioned talking to Carl Eastlake.”

“You think he beats his son?”

“From his rap sheet and what I know of him and Ty, it’s a strong possibility.”

“There’s a special place in hell for anyone who beats their child. I’d love to pin something lasting on him that’ll put him away for good.”

“We’ll figure it out. For tonight, why don’t we all have a quiet dinner and let Drew process everything? Maybe after he’s had a day to think, he’ll be ready to talk tomorrow.”

“I hope so.”

Shane had a horrible feeling in his gut that tomorrow might be far too late.

Shane dropped Drew off at school the next morning and watched the boy walk all the way inside.

He still hadn’t opened up. Nor did he eat breakfast. He was like a ghost, moving through the house, in danger of vanishing into mist.

Turning toward the diner on the square, Shane decided to grab a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich to go.

Looked like he was going to need the pick-me-up.

•   •   •

Drew’s head went all swimmy and he braced a hand against a locker. He hadn’t slept all night, and his mind was still a scrambled mess. The trouble at school and the consequences Shane had leveled barely registered.

He’d seen Carl Eastlake kill a man. In cold blood.

Shot dead. Right between the eyes.

The red hole in the man’s forehead, the blood and brain matter bursting through the back of his skull like a hammer smashing a melon, were forever ingrained. Stuck in a constant loop that he couldn’t escape.

Drew had seen Carl do it, and had seen him deal drugs, too. He could link Carl to enough criminal activity to put him away for life, maybe even get him the death penalty for the shooting. It didn’t matter that Ty had called last night with the promised assurances.

The man was going to kill him.

Even though Drew was just as guilty of his own dad’s death, he was going to have to tell Shane. There was no other way out. Shane was a cop. He’d know what to do.

This afternoon, Drew would spill everything. In truth, it would be a relief to get it all off his chest.

“Oh, hey,” a voice said. He looked over to see Alan standing beside him. “I’ve got your backpack in my car. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here and I didn’t want to carry it around if you weren’t, so I left it in there.”

“Sure, that’s fine.” He couldn’t seem to think what else to say.

Alan eyed him. “Dude, are you stoned or something?”

“No, just tired. Can we go get my backpack?”

“Here.” Digging in his pocket, he handed Drew his car keys. “Get it yourself. I’ve got a test to make up before first period and I’m late. Just give ’em back to me in English.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Alan disappeared down the hallway, leaving Drew alone. Despite their rocky start, it seemed like he might be an okay guy. Funny that Alan had believed Drew’s biggest problem was being a rich brat.

If only he knew.

Slipping out a side exit, Drew headed around the building toward the back parking lot where Alan always parked his Camaro. He had plenty of time to get the backpack and haul his butt inside for his first class. He wasn’t going to disappoint Shane again.

He stepped around the corner and noticed a dark blue van parked next to the curb. He’d never seen it before, but it wasn’t unusual to see all sorts of vehicles at the school. Probably delivering something.

Just as he passed the van, the door slid open. A man leaped from inside, straight at him, holding something white in his hand.

He barely had a second to register Carl and then the man was on him, one strong arm wrapping around his throat, the other reaching around to his face.

“No! Get off me!” Reacting instantly, he brought his foot down hard on the man’s instep as Shane had once taught him. Carl grunted in pain, but Drew was off balance and it wasn’t enough to make him let go.

The white thing was smashed over his face, and he realized it was a cloth. A foul-smelling chemical assaulted his sinuses and made his head spin. Frantically he reached for his phone, but it fell from his nerveless fingers and hit the curb, skittering away.

“Nice of you to show, kid. Saved me the trouble of havin’ to follow you, waitin’ for my chance,” Carl gloated. “I appreciate that.”

The inside of the dirty van was the last thing Drew saw before everything went dark.

•   •   •

Shane was sitting at his desk when his cell phone rang at 10:10. After yesterday, he now recognized the number and immediately tensed in dread.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Ford, this is Marylyn Estes again from the high school,” she began.

“Mrs. Estes, what can I do for you?”
Please, if that boy has any sense . . .

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Ford, but I’m afraid Drew didn’t show up for first period again. His teacher came to the office right after class was over to let us know.”

He sat bolt upright. “That’s impossible,” he growled. “I had a long talk with Drew last night and he was truly sorry for his actions. He promised me he’d attend from now on, and I know he was telling me the truth.”

Wasn’t he? Could he have imagined Drew’s sincerity?

“I understand how frustrating this is, believe me. I’ve worked for the school for years, and I know how easily they forget promises like that when temptation steps in.”

He considered that. Had just been thinking it himself, but . . .

“Not with Drew,” he said with conviction. “I watched him walk into the building myself. He was there and promised he’d stay. He wouldn’t lie, not after last night.”

“Well, he
was
here,” she conceded. “When we asked around, one of the students said he gave Drew the keys to his car because Drew’s backpack was inside. Apparently, Drew went out to the car and didn’t return.”

Oh, God.
Something was wrong. He knew it had to do with why Drew was so upset last night.

“Nobody recalls seeing him outside after that?”

“None we’ve spoken to. I think it’s possible he simply skipped as he’s done before, many times.”

Fear rose and his stomach lurched. “Possible, but I don’t think so. Please call me if he does show up.”

“Will do.”

Shane had his coat on and was about to rush out to search the streets for Drew when none other than Carl Eastlake materialized in the doorway. As he came to stand in front of his desk, it took every ounce of restraint not to vent his anger and fear on the man he was quickly coming to loathe.

“Eastlake,” he said evenly. “How can I help you?”

“I got a call from the school and Ty is missing. Thought you might know something about that, since our two have been out makin’ mischief most every day.” He eyed Shane coolly. “Ty mentioned you’re a cop. Fancy that, huh?”

Shane didn’t answer as he studied the man. He noted fresh scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand and a scratch on his neck. “Been in a fight recently?”

“Yeah, bar fight last night.” He grinned. “I love a good scrape.”

Lying bastard. The scratches were too recent to be from last night. He decided to play along. “No, I haven’t seen the boys. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I want to file a report on Ty. I’m tired of that kid disappearing whenever he pleases.”

That didn’t make sense on so many levels. “You know we can’t file a report for a missing person before forty-eight hours has passed, unless there’s been an abduction. Then we can do an Amber Alert.”

“Huh. That’s a stupid rule, the forty-eight hours thing. Guess I’ll have to come back, then.”

“But he’ll probably be home by then,” Shane pointed out. “Doesn’t he always show eventually?”

“I have a feelin’ he won’t this time,” Carl said.

The casual way he said it chilled Shane’s blood. There was no reason for the man to report Ty missing—unless he had firm cause to know for sure the kid wouldn’t return. Before he could respond, Carl gestured to the picture on Shane’s desk.

“Good-lookin’ boy. Real shame about his daddy.”

Shane held his temper. Barely. The man sounded anything but sorry. “Yes, it was tough on everyone.”

“Yeah, I imagine it was hard to play second daddy to a dead NFL star’s son.”

“Where did you hear that?” he asked, anger mounting. His efforts at raising Drew were none of the bastard’s business, and the oily tone grated on his nerves.

“Easy, Detective. I read the papers, same as everybody else. Plus our boys have gotten tight. Word gets around.” The man’s grin was unnerving.

He didn’t give Carl the satisfaction of reacting further. “Right. In any case, I haven’t seen them. If I do run across Ty, I’ll have him call you.”

“Thanks. You do that.” With a wink, the man turned and left.

“What the heck was that all about?” Daisy asked, stepping inside the office.

“That’s what I’d like to know. He wanted to file a missing-person report on Ty because he didn’t show at school this morning.”

“What? Don’t tell me they skipped again!”

“Drew was there, but he went out to a friend’s car to retrieve his backpack and never returned.”

“I was so sure you’d gotten through to him last night,” she said in disbelief, plopping into a chair.

“I did, I’m sure of it. Something isn’t right, and every instinct is telling me that Eastlake bastard is in the middle of it. He was acting weird, and he had scrapes on his knuckles and a scratch on his face. And he didn’t really act that concerned about Ty at all.”

“You think he was fishing?”

“Yeah. He remarked on Drew’s picture, and the way he talked about him gave me chills.”

“Well, he’s a creepy man in general. He’s always like that.”

“This felt different.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“Let’s hit the street and see if we can turn up any witnesses who’ve seen Drew since this morning. If you want to go with me, that is.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Thank God for this woman. He loved her so.

•   •   •

Jesus, his head was splitting.

Consciousness returned painfully, each movement he attempted jarring his brain. Drew groaned, wondering what the hell had run over him. Then he realized he was lying on a cold, dirty floor. What . . .

“Wakey, wakey,” a man’s voice sang.

Cracking his eyes open, he saw a blurry face hovering over him. A face that gradually cleared and became Carl’s hated visage. “The fuck?”

Then he remembered. Carl had done bad things. Blown a man’s head off.

“Nice of you to join us. Isn’t it, son?” he asked, addressing someone else in the room.

Drew followed the man’s gaze and swallowed hard. This was the same cabin as yesterday, Drew noted. The body of the man Carl had killed was gone, but the stains on the table and floor remained. It made him sick.

His former friend was sitting at the blood-spattered table next to Frank, his lip split, eye blackened. Ty had obviously been crying and looked petrified. He was no longer the cocky kid who wanted in on whatever Daddy was doing. Unlike Drew, he wasn’t bound. The look he sent Drew was filled with very real remorse.

And Drew understood that he was about to be made into an example for Ty. They were going to kill him.

His fears were confirmed when Carl turned to Ty. “Stand up, boy.” Ty did, shaking visibly. “You said you wanted into the family business. Fine. You got it. But first, you have to prove you’re man enough to do what needs to be done.”

“Please,” Ty whispered. “I don’t want to anymore. Let Drew go. I told you he wouldn’t say anything.” That earned him a backhand across the face, and his head snapped to the side.

“First lesson: you gotta
discourage
people who poke their noses in our business. You following me?”

Ty nodded, wiping his bloody lip.

“Good.”

From the table, he retrieved a knife and handed it to Ty. Then the bastard walked to where Drew was huddled on the floor, yanked him up, and dragged him to a wooden chair he pulled from the table into the center of the floor. He shoved Drew roughly into it.

“Now cut him,” he ordered Ty. “Make the rich brat bleed.”

“No,” he protested, eyes wide. “I can’t!”

“Cut him or I’ll use that knife on
you
.”

He meant what he said, and there wasn’t any doubt about it. He’d cut his own son for not following orders. Drew met Ty’s gaze and gave him a slight nod. It was okay. Ty had to do what he had to do, and hopefully he could drag it out until help arrived, as slim a hope as that seemed.

Trembling from head to toe and gripping the knife, Ty stood in front of him. It seemed they stared at each other forever, the atmosphere in the room thick with the murderous greed of the men in it. Men who would teach a boy to become a killer. They were pure evil.

“Do it!”

At Carl’s yell, Ty slashed downward, slicing Drew’s right forearm. Drew cried out in surprise even though he’d anticipated it. Christ, it hurt. The gash burned and blood immediately began to soak the flannel shirt he’d worn to school just that morning.

The shirt he’d be wearing when he died.

Carl and Frank were laughing, calling Ty a chip off the old block. Ty stumbled back, and Drew began to shake.

He couldn’t believe his life was going to end, just like his dad’s. All because of this bastard. The truth finally settled in: it wasn’t Drew’s fault at all that his dad had gotten mixed up with these creeps. But now he was going to pay, unless someone found and rescued him.