Page 48 of Sachie's Hero

The boy waved again, turned with the ball and ran back to play with his friends.

Williams sat on the bench until the bell rang again and the children filed into the building. Recess was over.

Williams gathered his trash, tossed it into a bin and headed for his car.

“Do you want to follow him?” Teller asked, ready to sprint back to their rental.

“No. That won’t be necessary,” Sachie said.

Teller turned to Sachie to find tears slipping down her face. He cupped her cheeks and stared down into her watery eyes, his heart squeezing hard in his chest. “Hey, why the tears?” Hell, he could handle bullets better than a woman’s tears, any day—especially this woman’s.

She gave him a weak laugh. “Just when you’ve lost faith in humankind, something like this reminds you that not everyone is bad or out to hurt others.”

Teller glanced toward the gray sedan pulling out of the parking lot. “You think it’s okay for a grown man to lurk outside an elementary school playground?”

“I recognized the little boy.” Sachie looked up into Teller’s eyes, her own filling again. “It was Aiden Williams, Scott’s son. He came to see his son.”

“What about him not leaving the house for anentire day and the house manager not recording that he left?”

“It could’ve happened as you suggested.” Sachie started moving back to where they’d parked. “Bryan might’ve gone on a bathroom break, not expecting anyone to leave at that hour. Williams wasn’t supposed to work today, but his supervisor said he was asked to fill in for someone else.” She shook her head. “I think it would’ve been a stretch for him to fly out to the Big Island, stir up all that trouble and get back in time to show up at work at eight.”

Teller opened the passenger door and held it for Sachie to climb in.

He rounded to the other side of the car and slipped in behind the wheel. “Now where?”

“I’d like to talk with Candice Franklin if she’ll see me.”

Sachie staredat the front windshield, images of a little boy standing on the other side of a fence waving at his father etched in her mind. She really hoped Scott Williams was committed to a better life for himself and his son. Like all children, Aiden deserved to live a happy childhood with a parent who loved and protected him. She’d never liked taking children away from their parents, but she couldn’t stand backand let a child be neglected or abused by those parents.

Teller checked the text Swede had sent for the address and brought it up on his map application. “Are you going to let Foster know where we found Williams?”

Sachie had rolled that question over in her mind before Teller had asked. “Though I like to think his picnic in the park is harmless, and he only wanted to see his kid, I’d hate to be wrong. So, yes. I feel like it’s my responsibility to let Foster know. I’m not sure if Williams has visitation rights with Aiden or if he has been ordered to keep his distance from the boy.”

The map led them back to H1 to another exit and back into a seedier neighborhood with homes that had seen better days years ago. Many had cars parked in the tiny front yards, some propped on concrete blocks, missing not only tires but their wheels as well.

If it wasn’t chickens wandering the streets, it was stray dogs that barely moved off the pavement as Teller eased along the narrow streets, coming to a stop in front of a dilapidated shack that appeared to be held together by plywood and duct tape.

Sachie’s heart went out to Candice Franklin. To live in such squalor was bad enough. To have an old boyfriend beat the shit out of her after being released from jail was taking it to the next level of horrible.

She got out of the car, not looking forward to stepping into this woman’s house. She’d been in homes no human or animal should live in. She suspected this was one of those.

Teller walked with her up to the door and knocked.

“Go away,” a voice called out from inside.

“Ms. Franklin, could we have a few minutes of your time?” Teller called out.

“I’m not buying. Ain’t got no money anyway,” she said and then erupted in a hacking cough. “Damn.”

“Candice,” Sachie called out, “we’re looking for Travis and hope you can help us.”

“You and everyone else,” Candice called out. “That no good, son of a bitch nearly killed me.” Again, more coughing.

“Please. We won’t take up too much of your time,” Sachie persisted.

“Door’s open,” the woman inside said. “Travis busted the lock.”

Teller pushed the door inward and stepped through the entryway.

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