Page 15 of Delivering David

“I guess,” T.J. admitted, studying Kristopher through narrowed eyes. “Were you really in the Army?”

“Yep. Several tours.”

A pingingsounded from Suzanne’s jacket pocket, and she took out her phone. Her eyes scanned the screen, and Kristopher watched the color fade from her face. He leaned down to whisper, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Miller,” she whispered back. “We need to go.”

She gave her attention back to T.J. “Thanks for talking to us.” Taking a card case from her other pocket, she opened it and gave him one. “If you get any ideas about where David might be, please call the number here, any time of the day or night. Please.”

“Hold up.” Kristopher took the card from her and scrawled his name and phone number on the back. “There. You can call me too.”

“‘kay.” T.J. slid the card into the ripped pocket on his shirt and pushed away. “See ya, bye.”

“Thanks,” Suzanne said again. A wave of his hand acknowledged her, and T.J. sped toward a ramp at a frightening speed, dismissing them. “Well, let’s hope that helped,” she said. “Where on earth did you learn how to talk to kids like that?”

“You learn all kinds of things in the Army,” he said. “Especially with newbies who don’t want to do what they’re told. Did you really just give him your phone number?”

“I have a special phone for clients to use if there’s an emergency,” she explained, putting her right hand on the stairs’ banister and stepping up. “No one has ever called me after hours. Why did you give him yours?”

“So, he won’t bother you too much.” Kristopher took her arm and walked them toward the stairs. His earlier discomfort returned If anything, it was growing. And it had nothing to do with T.J.’s hostility. Kristopher was reasonably sure the kid didn’t know anything. Or else the boy was a very good liar.

It was being out in the open less than twenty-four hours after someone had tried to kill Suzanne Bennett. He never should have agreed to come here. They were out in the open like a pair of sitting ducks.

They reached the stairs and Suzanne reached for the bannister and stepped up. Then she winced and stopped, her face pale and Kristopher turned her to face him again. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s just a twinge in my right wrist,” she admitted. “From where that guy grabbed me.”

“How badly does it hurt?” Kristopher demanded.

“A little,” she said. “I mean, it’s not a big deal.”

“And you didn’t tell Elaine that it still hurts?” Kristopher struggled to rein in his annoyance.

Her eyebrows rose. “About a strained wrist? C’mon, Sergeant Brower. I’m not a wimp. After all, I did fight off that guy.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Kristopher groaned. “Just great. Elaine is gonna kick my ass and probably yours too for not mentioning it. I know you didn’t go to the ER ‘cause it wasn’t in the report KPD sent to Hank.”

“Go to the ER for a strained wrist two days after Christmas?” She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you nuts?”

“Never mind,” Kristopher retorted. “Did Miller say why he needed to see us?”

“It’s bad, she said, leaning against the banister and closing her eyes.

Instinctively, his arms encircled her waist to steady her. “Suzanne, what’s happened? Are you in that much pain? Just tell me.”

“It’s not my wrist, silly.” She opened her eyes, and he saw the fear shining there. “The police found two bodies early this morning near Volunteer Landing,” she said. “A man and woman wearing ID badges from Tennessee Care Youth Shelter. They’d been shot in the back of the head.”

CHAPTER 13

This is so freakin’weird. David’s mom got murdered?T.J. watched the couple walk towards the stairs and then took out the card the woman had given him. Suzanne Bennett’s name and phone number were printed in the right corner in simple black letters. She seemed okay but social workers and case managers were all the same. They made lots of promises, got your hopes up but never kept them. T.J. knew that well enough. Seven years in foster care had taught him that.

And that Army Dude’s name was Kristopher Brower. The guy looked like he could kick some serious ass without breaking a sweat. T.J. was glad Army Dude hadn’t kicked his.

But David was missing? That was definitely not cool. If the cops found him, they’d stick him in foster care and that would really suck. Maybe Army Dude was right. Maybe someone wanted to hurt David ‘cause he saw something. T.J. blew out a long, thoughtful breath and considered.

David was a little kid, but he was smart and if he thought someone was trying to hurt him, he’d hide somewhere other than his house. From what T.J. had heard, half the neighborhood was gone for the holidays, and the other half would call the cops if David showed up at their houses. T.J.’s money was on the kid hiding himself where no one would think to look, some place the cops wouldn’t know about.

Then T.J. grinned and after texting the Johnsons to tell them he was still at the skate park–they were probably still asleep–tucked his skateboard under his arm and headed toward the other entrance to the park. This way he’d hopefully not run into any cops and make it to the McCallister house without anyone noticing him.

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