Chapter 19: The Wrong Man

Home seemed like a far away dream. She was sure she would never get there. But she refused to stop running, despite her aching lungs and the needle of pain jabbing her side over and over. Even her legs betrayed her, thighs burning, tight calves sending waves of pain with every step. She welcomed it, opened to it, let it tear her down and push her deeper inside. The pain was familiar and she wanted more of it.

Her front door flashed by. She swerved into the yard, the sound of her thudding sneakers muffled by the thick grass. Emily took the deck stairs two at a time, flung herself in the back door out of breath and bathed in sweat. She found them in the kitchen, almost as she left them. More coffee. More quiet. But they both looked up when she entered.

"Honey, are you okay? What happened?" Pamela was beside her, touching her, stroking her hair back from her forehead. Emily bent in half, struggling to get her breath back. When she straightened they were both watching her. Undivided attention. Isn't that what she wanted of them?

"He didn't do it." Her voice was rough, lungs aching, throat sandpaper dry. Deeper than normal. It surprised her.

"Who, Em?" Jack guided her to a stool. "What are you talking about?"

"Hind." She heaved out one last deep breath. "He didn't take Cole."

They exchanged a look. It would have been comical, cliché, if she hadn't been so focused on making them listen.

"Did Brandsom call and we missed it?" Pamela looked so confused.

"No. I looked it up. Him. We did, I mean." It was coming out all wrong and she was losing them, she felt it.

"Em, you're not making any sense. Who is 'we'?" Jack sat back on his own stool, mug in his hands. She focused on his fingers, knowing when that slow and steady beat began, he was done.

She had to get it right. "Devon Petrie. His brother Gavin was taken. He was the second boy."

"The one the cops think was kidnapped by his father?" Pamela sat, too.

"Yes." They were still with her. Perfect. "But Devon said his dad called. He doesn't have Gavin. He's on his way here."

"What does that have to do with Hind?" One tap. Jack was drifting.

"We looked him up. On the sex offender registry." She saw Pamela's face crumple, another double tap from Jack. "He's on it because of a girl. A fourteen year-old girl."

Neither of them said a word. Emily pushed on. "He's not the guy."

She wasn't sure why it was so important they listen to her, believe her. But she needed their belief so she could act. To do something besides let those worthless cops continue to screw up over and over until Cole was lost to them forever.

Pamela's shut down was visible. She pulled back, arms crossing over her twin-set, face closed. Jack's was more subtle and yet the most obvious. His fingers began their steady rhythm and didn't stop.

"Detective Brandsom says he is." Her mother's voice was harsh. "We have to believe they are right."

"Why?" Emily slammed both hands down on the granite. They stung for a long time, but she ignored the pain. "They're fucking around and we're no closer to finding Cole!"

"Emily!" Jack thumped his coffee mug against the counter. "You do not use that word in our house."

"Why the fuck not?" She was on her feet and screaming at them without realizing she was doing it until it was too late and she was trapped in it. "I can't just sit here and do nothing while they try to get a confession out of the wrong guy!"

She lost them. Back to their gloom and guilt and fear.

"We're waiting to hear from the detective," her mother repeated. "Any minute now."

Emily looked back and forth between them before storming back down the hallway and into the yard, slamming the door behind her.

She didn't get a chance to vent. Devon stood on her deck.

"My dad is home." He shook, face so pale it was almost translucent, the fine veins in his skin standing out on his cheeks. Emily held her breath. He struggled to speak, looked away. "He doesn't have Gavin."

The air in her lungs tasted toxic. She exhaled and sank into a lawn chair. Devon didn't move.

"I'm sorry." So inadequate. But they both knew there was nothing more to say about.

"Did you tell your folks?" His trembling eased, but he still seemed so fragile.

"Yes. For all the good it did." She kicked at the chair across from her, pushing it out from the table with a harsh rasp. Devon crashed into it, his body collapsing.

"What the fuck is wrong with the cops?" He was getting angry. At least the flush of it filled his pale skin so he didn't look like he was fading away.

"Looking for an easy target." Emily didn't get it either. Not that it mattered. There was nothing she could do about it.

"Assholes." Devon sat up a bit, snuffled. Looked away. "My mom."

She waited. He needed to share. She knew it by instinct. Emily didn't want to hear it, was the worst person in the world for him to dump on, but held her peace.

"She's... not doing great. First Dad. Then, when Gavin..." He was having trouble with every word, dragging them out of himself syllable by syllable.

"Yeah." She got it. Had been where his mom was herself with the chance to go back there at any moment.

"I have to find him." He rubbed his arm, fingers sliding over the tattoo.

"What's the other name?" She asked without thinking.

He stopped rubbing and dropped his hand. "Mine. And Gavin's. Got it last year when Dad left. He was so freaked. I swore I'd be there for him. Proved it with this." He pulled the sleeve up, showed her the ink. A smiling skull, shadowy and blended with a lattice of cracks with a ribbon above winding through the eyes to the matching one below. Pure black, white and gray. And their names, of course, in a spinning, spidery script. She thought it was beautiful. It made her wish she had something like it with Cole's name.

"Now he's gone." The sleeve slid back, obscuring all but the ribbon with his name and the jutting jaw of the skull, like it was eating the fabric. "I promised and he's gone."

She could see the gray settling over him like a thin cloud, a wall of protection. Emily knew that gray so well, intimately, like it was part of her and always would be. Knew where he was going and the path it would take him down. And refused to let it happen to him.

"We'll find him." She had no idea how. Then again, she might, at that.

"How?" Devon's eyes begged for something, anything. The gray hovered, but didn't settle.

She expected the girls to show and was surprised when they didn't. But knew she had to tell him.

"My friends." That was awkward to say. He didn't move. "They... show up. Sometimes. Tell me stuff." She winced as his face closed down. "Not tell me. More like... make me pay attention." Emily held his eyes despite the fact they were empty to her now. "Like earlier. At your house. They... they wanted me to tell you about them." She felt like a loser. But at least the gray was gone. Replaced by cold fury.

Devon lurched to his feet. "You're fucking crazy."

She knew that already. But it still hurt. She let him go. Partly because she had no idea how to keep him and partly because she heard a familiar voice behind her, through the open window, speaking to her father.

Emily heard the motorcycle start up, the roar of the engine as Devon peeled away and Todd emerged through the back door.

"Hi, Em."

She wanted to hug him. He was so normal, more than normal. Gorgeous. Kind. With an ordinary life of school and football and a future. He was her anchor and despite her state of mind, she found herself smiling at him.

They made an effort at homework. He handed her pages and pages of photocopied notes of her classes, even those he wasn't in.

"I asked some of the girls to help." He shrugged his wide shoulders. "They were really nice about it."

Emily knew it had nothing to do with helping her. Why hadn't she seen it before, how delicious he was? How just being with him made her feel safe? She wasn't used to life as usual any more. It felt great.

It wasn't long before school fell to the wayside in favor of the double-seat swing at the far end of the deck. His arm found its way around her shoulders, thigh pressed against hers. Todd's legs were longer, sneaker easily reaching the deck railing and he swung them gently back and forth.

She was so lost in her fantasy of normalcy that she was angry when he went and ruined it.

"My dad said they caught a guy."

Her whole body stiffened. She knew he felt it. But he remained as calm and relaxed as before.

"Your dad says a lot of things." The moment it was out of her mouth she regretted it. The last thing she wanted to do was drive Todd away. He was very important to her all of a sudden. Sinking ships needed rescue.

He actually laughed. "Yeah, I bet." His arm tightened, pulled her closer, cheek resting on her hair. She could feel his warm breath skim over her scalp and shivered. "He really is trying."

She didn't argue despite her own beliefs about what the detective was and wasn't doing. It wasn't worth it.

Todd didn't let it go, however. His hand lifted, caught her chin, tilted her face toward his. Light brown eyes with spots of gold warmed her from the inside out. His face was so close she could smell peppermint when he spoke.

"They'll find him. It'll be okay."

"Promise?" Why did he make her feel like she was a little kid and he was there to watch over her? She gave up on the whole knight in shining armor dream the night Sam's father molested her while Emily hid in the closet.

"Promise." How could she not believe him? He bent and touched her nose with his lips. Her cheek. Her chin. When his mouth found hers, she welcomed it. Her arms found a home around his neck, body a safe haven pressed to his chest. Fire ran between them, starting everywhere their skin touched, from her mouth, where his nose brushed her cheek, the softness of the back of his neck, the silky feel of his hair. His hands cupped her ribcage, pulling her closer, lifting her into his lap. She barely noticed.

He tasted like candy.

When he pulled away, she resisted. "Please." She didn't know what exactly she needed from him, but it started with that kiss and filled her up where she had once been so empty.

"Em," he whispered back. "Oh, Emmy."

Cole's nickname from Todd's lips. It was almost too much for her to bear. The fire he created in her died, leaving her as gaping and hollow as before. It hurt more, though. She knew now what she was missing.

Emily would have considered trying to find it again. In fact was on the verge of plunging headlong into something she knew she wasn't ready to handle, when they were interrupted.

The phone rang, loud enough the sound carried through the open window. That was all it took. She leapt out of Todd's lap and made it to the back door and the hall and the kitchen. She was only vaguely aware he followed her. Emily saw the stricken look on Jack's face and almost doubled over from the pain of his expression. She was sure it could only mean one thing.

"Yes. I understand. Thank you for letting us know." Jack hung up the phone. Set it down. Looked at Pamela, then at Emily.

"Cole?" She hated saying his name like he was already dead.

But her father shook his head. Sighed deeply, on hand running over his face.

"That was Detective Gerret. He was calling to tell us another boy has been reported missing."

Emily felt a scream rising inside her. Any moment now it would explode outward, shatter her world, break her into a million pieces and scatter her far and wide so she would never, ever be able to feel anything ever again.

Pamela choked, spun away, hands clutched to her chest. It was Todd who asked the obvious question.

"When did he disappear?"

Emily already knew. Not specifically, but she knew.

"This morning," Jack said.

"While Hind was in custody." She hadn't meant it as a weapon, but it came out that way.

Jack flinched while her mother whimpered.

"He didn't do it." No vindication. Only hopelessness and horror.

And one less chance to find her brother.

***