Chapter 14: Worst Case Scenario

Emily found herself lying to Brandsom. What else could she do?

"I fell," she said, handing over the only connection she had to her brother to a man she didn't trust. "And found it. End of story."

Of course that wasn't enough for him. It never was. His eyes were dark, shadowed in the dim light in the kitchen. It was her mother's biggest complaint that the windows were too small, not letting in enough natural light. It suited Brandsom.

"You just happened to fall." He balanced the ball in his hand, as if weighing it against her soul. He already chewed her out about handling it with her bare hands. Like she had a choice.

"Yeah." She could feel Sam beside her, feeding her strength. She wondered if Brandsom would be able to handle seeing the girls. She doubted it.

"How convenient." He handed the ball off to his partner. It disappeared into a plastic bag while Pamela eyed it with hunger.

"I told you." Emily rolled her eyes, partly because she knew it would drive him crazy. "I went back to the park to see if I could remember anything. And I did."

He checked his notes. Totally unnecessary. "You claim you saw a brown station wagon."

Jerk. "I was heading home to call you and it started to rain. I slipped and fell. There was a lot of water." That much was true. "I was lucky, I guess." She rubbed her right arm where bruises formed, but it was worth it if it helped.

"You should have left it where it was." Why was he repeating himself again?

"I told you. It was slipping. It would have washed away if I didn't grab it right then." Also true.

"You realize any evidence is lost because you handled it?"

She wanted to tell him the evidence was lost because he was an asshole who didn't know how to do his job. His partner beat her to it.

"We're glad you found it, Emily." Gerret nodded to her, eyes on Brandsom. She finally remembered the nice young detective's name. "And that you called us with the information about the car."

"It means someone took him, right?" Emily knew the statistics, had looked them up herself. Odds were Cole was in the hands of a monster. Her mind tried to shy from the truth but it was too black and white for her.

"It's possible." Brandsom still refused to admit it.

"What are his chances?" Jack was at least being practical. Pamela just hiccupped a small cry and fell still.

"Most of these types of offenders keep their prey for as long as they feel safe." Gerret shuffled his feet, his shoes making an odd gritty noise on the tile.

"Sex offender." Emily needed them to say it out loud. "Pedophile."

She was sure at any moment the room would collapse around them. It couldn't be. Impossible. And yet there it was.

"Yes," Gerret said.

This time Jack let out a sound. A whimper of hurt.

"Will it help?" Pamela was in daze mode all over again. "What she found? Remembered?" Emily finally felt worry for her. It was a foreign thing, feeling for someone else. It started with Cole. Now her mother. Emily wasn't sure she was willing to go that far.

"Everything helps." Gerret gathered up the plastic bag. "We should check these leads."

Emily was happy to see them go, but was unprepared for what her parents wanted of her.

"Please." Pamela's mascara ringed under her eyes. She looked Goth, as if Sam stared out of her mother's face. "I need to see where you found it."

Jack hovered, hopeful. What good would it do? And yet, she understood why they needed to go, why she herself still felt drawn to that spot, the last resting place of a stupid blue ball.

So, Emily agreed.

The three of them made a sad procession down the wet sidewalk. It had stopped raining, but the sky was still heavy with cloud cover. Jack hugged Pamela all the way there, one arm tightly around her shoulders, the other hand holding hers. Emily had to keep turning to make sure they were still following her, they were so quiet.

Up ahead. The storm drain. She felt her feet slow, then stop on their own as she let her parents move past her. Emily felt the brush of her mother's fingers on her sleeve, a gesture of gratitude making Emily's throat constrict. She watched them huddle together over the hole in the street, eyes and hearts locked on it.

They stood there for a long time. Emily left them to it. She had paid her homage already, done her best. Now it was up to Brandsom. Damn it.

Someone rumbled up on a motorcycle, turned off the engine. Emily turned and watched Devon remove his black helmet, toss back his heavy dark hair as he stared at her.

She didn't want to talk to him, not really. But he was right. They were sort of in the same place, or might be. And she needed to know either way.

Her feet carried her to him. "Nice bike." That was about the dumbest thing she could have said, but it worked.

"Thanks." His eyes slid over her parents then back to her. "What happened?"

She told him everything. It gushed out of her like a fountain of poison, uncontrollable and hurtful. He took it without flinching. She admired him for that.

"So someone took him." Devon was tense, his hands white where they clutched at his helmet.

"That's what they think now." She didn't have to tell him what she thought of the police. They shared a look. She had to bring the obvious up. "The cops think your dad took your brother."

His body jerked like she hit him as Devon's face paled, then reddened. He cleared his throat before answering, but his words were so slurred by emotion it was painful to listen.

"They don't know what the hell they are talking about."

She didn't need to push him, but did anyway. "So you don't believe it?"

"My dad would never..." Devon looked away, down at the pavement, shifting his weight before looking up again. "Mom talked to him. Last night. He's on his way. Been on the East Coast all this time." She knew he wasn't just talking about since Gavin disappeared. His hurt was older even than hers. "So now what?"

How could she tell him the truth? Because he knew it already.

"We wait." Emily hugged herself. "Maybe the car description will get a hit somehow."

"Maybe." He sighed like all the tension was in that one breath. "Thanks for telling me."

"I hope. They are together." She meant it.

"Me too." The thought of them being alone... meant Gavin was probably dead.

"Damn it!" Devon shoved his helmet into place, fired up the engine and peeled out of there without another word. Emily watched him go, saw Sam standing in his path, reached out, cried out-

Devon drove right through the ghost girl, building speed in a snarl of acceleration. Emily's hand went to her mouth. Silly. How could he hurt Sam? Or was it her friend she was worried about?

Sam lasted another moment before fading away.

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