Page 26 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“Michael won’t speak,” he told the women. “We may need to call a child psychologist to help with the interview.”

“Do you mind if I try?” Bel asked. “I found him and then carried him the entire way back to the house. Maybe he’ll talk to me.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Griffin said, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I’ll…”

Bel interrupted his words by wrapping her arms around his neck. She realized her actions were unprofessional, but death came often and swift in her line of work, and she’d stopped caring about decorum after witnessing Eamon’s back blown apart.

“When you didn’t show up for work, I thought something happened to you.” Griffin hugged her close, the tension bleeding out of his muscles at her touch. “I care about all my officers, but you, Emerson, have a way of digging yourself into people’s hearts. God help me because caring for you is a lesson in fear.”

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t call. What was I supposed to say? What excuse would you have believed?” She kissed his cheek, and Griffin itched his face to hide the tear slipping from his eye. Bel pretended she didn’t see it, and he smirked at her graciousness.

“Go talk to the boy, then take me to the flooded bunker. I want to examine it for myself. Maybe something there will help us locate the brother.”

“Hopefully.” Bel turned to Wendy, one weight lifting from her chest after their hug as another settled over her at the mention of the bunker. Forensics would document everything inside that cellar, and she was thankful that the flood had washed the remaining blood off both her and Eamon. Dirt and water were easily explained, but the presence of blood when neither of them wore so much as a scratch would invite too many prying eyes to their already precarious position. She knew what Griffin would find at the flooded bunker, what he would find at the second star on the right, and she feared what the discovery meant for Eamon’s life in Bajka.

“That sandwich looks yummy.” She shoved her concern aside as she joined Eamon on the couch opposite Wendy, Michael, and Henry. “I like grilled cheese. Do you?” She shoved the plate closer to the child, hoping the informal conversation wouldencourage him to speak, but he simply stared at her, clinging to his sister as if The Tinker might steal him again if he so much as loosened his grip.

“I haven’t had lunch.” Bel tore the now cold sandwich in half and extended the larger piece to Michael. “Would it be okay if I shared with you? I’m really hungry.”

He nodded, accepting the half from her, and Wendy’s entire face lit up with hope. She glanced at Bel, her eyes pleading with the detective to continue, and Bel smiled her understanding.

“Eat with me?” She took a bite and then gestured for Michael to do the same as she stifled a moan. She was starving, but even cold, it was the best grilled cheese she’d ever had. The cheese tasted way too expensive, and her obvious happiness at eating sparked something in the child. He lifted his half to his lips, and Bel wondered if it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in her. Someone who understood what he’d endured, and she decided to lean into it.

“Michael, I’m going to ask you some questions if that’s okay?” She waited for him to respond, but when he simply took another bite, she signaled for Gold to join them.

“This is Detective Olivia Gold, and we both were taken not long ago,” Bel said, keeping the details vague so as to not traumatize the child further, but her partner still shot her a confused look as she sat. “Like you and your brother, someone stole us, so we know what you’ve been through. It’s why we’re here. We understand how scary this is, but we survived. You survived too, and if you help us, then we can bring John home safely as well.”

“Is this really appropriate?” Henry asked, but when Wendy glared at him over Michael’s head, he fell silent.

“If you don’t want to speak, you can just nod. Do you think you can manage that?” Bel pushed, and the child finally responded, giving a small nod as he took another bite of hisgrilled cheese, and the entire room smiled with relief as the detective and the boy ate together.

Griffin stoodin the destruction’s aftermath, horror knotting his stomach. The torn dirt. The shrapnel protruding from the trees. The hints of blood drying on the leaves. He knew Bel’s explanation for this violence. He heard her words. He nodded when she told him Eamon set off the IED while they were a safe distance away, but the devastation didn’t match her tale. Pressure plates had activated these explosions, and while he wasn’t an expert, Griffin understood enough to know humans couldn’t outrun blasts like this. Bel theorized these IEDs were traps for Wendy, The Tinker’s final laugh in this wicked game. He’d offered her a breadcrumb, a way to find her brothers, and this assault would be her reward. But killers didn’t plant explosives out in the open for their victims to escape. There wasno way Eamon Stone saw the device, and even if he had, why was blood on the foliage? And why had Bel been wearing his shirt? Griffin realized women liked to wear their boyfriend’s clothes, not that Bel was romantically entangled with the millionaire. At least he hoped she wasn’t. Something about the intimidating man was unsettling. Darkness followed him, an unnatural presence coating his aura, and the only reason Griffin tolerated Stone was because he seemed determined to keep Bel alive and safe no matter the cost… or legality.

But even if Bel had somehow allowed her heart to become ensnared by Stone’s danger, it didn’t explain why she would arrive at a crime scene dressed so unprofessionally. He knew his detective. She wasn’t one to present herself with so little respect for such a drastic situation, which meant she hadn’t started the day wearing Eamon’s button-down. Something happened to her original outfit, forcing her to change, and as Griffin stared at the tumultuous dirt, a single horrifying explanation kept presenting itself. Blood. Her clothes had been coated in blood, and not her own because she didn’t have a scratch on her. So, if it wasn’t hers, then the only other explanation for the drying stain on the tree bark was the one she’d given him. Eamon Stone had set off the IED… only it seemed not as safely as their lies wanted him to believe.

After Bel’s confession about her time with Abel encouraged the Darling boy to open up, Griffin demanded she show him the flooded bunker. As expected, Michael remembered nothing. One minute he was in the car with their driver, Peter Pann, heading back to school, and the next he was chained to the wall. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know where his brother was. All he knew was that someone had forever altered his life with their violence, and the pretty brunette detective saved him.

Thankfully, Eamon’s anonymous contact had the foresight to securely send his findings to Stone’s personal email for thepolice to access. Seemed even men from questionable walks of life deemed the kidnap and abuse of a child heinous, and while Griffin would normally be hesitant to accept such aid, seeing the recorded footage of water pouring in to drown a kid forced him to reconsider his stance. The boy’s terror captured on the recording before Eamon’s fist crushed the camera was why Griffin currently stood in the destroyed dirt with a silent tongue. Things didn’t add up. Bel was hiding something, but her secrets had saved Michael. The moment he voiced his concerns, Bel and Eamon’s actions would be scrutinized, and Griffin wasn’t sure that was the right call. After all, the devil you know is safer than the one you don’t.

He’d left Gold at the house to oversee the investigation, taking only a few techs and deputies with him. He walked ahead, wanting to see the evidence first before he allowed the others to witness the brutality, and when Bel silently led him to the bunker, he realized his foresight had been a blessing. Nerves coated Bel’s features. She offered no explanation for the sight at his feet. Griffin had never seen metal so warped, so bent and destroyed. They needed to drain the flood to investigate the bunker, but he knew what they would find. He’d noticed the chains restraining the boy on the surveillance footage. Breaking them would’ve been as impossible as ripping this door free, yet there it sat, mangled and torn off its hinges.

Griffin met Bel’s gaze, wondering if she would try to explain away this impossibility, but she simply stared at him with defeat. Exhaustion coated her limbs. Fear filled her eyes. But not fear for herself. Fear that Griffin would punish the person responsible for truly saving Michael. Bel may have deciphered the clues and carried the child back to his sister, but she hadn’t done this. Much like she hadn’t killed Alcina Magus or discovered Foley Locks’ shallow grave. Griffin had ignored Alcina’s violent death, the way her body had been so broken anddestroyed. Stone blamed the bites on her corpse on Cerberus, but Griffin wasn’t stupid. Canine fangs hadn’t carved some of her wounds. No, they had been alarmingly human. And the blood? Some of it strayed from the crime scene. Too far to be Alcina’s or Eamon’s. Griffin hadn’t tested it. He didn’t want any public confirmation, but instinct told him it was Bel’s. She wore no wounds after that attack, only bruises, but deep down, he knew. She’d almost bled out during that fight. But he ignored it because the detective he considered a daughter was alive and safe. Just as he overlooked how Eamon found Foley Locks, the suspect in their last case, buried in the woods. Griffin swept everything under the rug, placing Bel’s life above the revelations, but staring at that mangled door warned him this was no longer something he could ignore. He needed to make a choice. Did he acknowledge a monster lived among them, or did he accept that sometimes evil was for the greater good?

Footsteps sounded behind them as the techs caught up, and Griffin knew he had to choose. Did he trust his best detective, or did he crucify the only person who might be able to rescue John? Bel shifted uncomfortably, and looking at her solidified his choice. It might haunt him for the rest of his days, but she and the missing Darling brother would always be more important than learning the truth. So Griffin chose. With a knot in his stomach and dread in his chest, he chose.

“There’s a crowbar and bolt cutters in my truck.” He shoved his keys into Bel’s hand. “Put them in Stone’s car and make sure no one sees you. Let’s pray they’re enough to convince everyone.”

Bel satin the passenger seat of Griffin’s truck as he drove to the station. Silence hung thick between them, the invisible wall separating them growing with every passing hour. They’d barely spoken since he’d ordered her to hide the bolt cutters and crowbar in the trunk of Eamon’s car, even though she was thankful for his help. His foresight had helped them explain the broken chains and warped door, and while some techs weren’t entirely convinced, Griffin’s support of Bel’s story silenced them. They’d spent the next hours working the scene, and as the sun set, Griffin left the Darlings in Gold’s capable hands. He wanted to book Peter Pann before the day was through, and he’d requested Bel return to the station to conduct the interview. He often asked her to accompany him during suspect questioningbecause her experience as an NYPD homicide detective gave her an edge that no one else in Bajka possessed, but as they followed the squad car bearing Pann, the cramping in her gut warned this request was of a different nature.

“You know there’s more coming, right?” Bel asked, unable to bear the silence any longer. “John is still missing, but we’ve received no clues about his whereabouts, which means this isn’t over.”

“Well, we got Pann, so the tables have turned.”

“I don’t think they have,” Bel said as they parked at the Bajka Police station. “I don’t think he cares that we caught him. He’s smart, and I’m afraid this is far from over.”

“I’m Sheriff Griffin,and this is Detective Emerson,” Griffin said as he and Bel entered the interview room after they officially booked Peter Pann into police custody. “You’ve been arrested for the kidnapping and the attempted murder of a minor and a police officer?—”

“Tick Tock,” Pann interrupted, his expression neutral as the nonsense words escaped his lips.

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