Page 36 of Dying to Meet You

My sweet, fun-loving, energetic boy. My Weston.

What the fuck are we going to do?

Chapter Twenty-One

Torn allegiance

Keir

Thiscan’tbehappening.

“Honey, hey…hey.” I catch up to her as she runs at full speed past a property marker toward the creek north of us. “Eden.” My voice is restricted by the tears I can’t stop.

I left the house this morning after telling Weston I’d take him to his karate class tonight.“Really? Promise?” His fierce hug is followed by, “Can I give one of Mommy’s flowers to my teacher? She was sad yesterday.” His face lights up when I tell him he can before he skips off to pluck a white daisy.

It’s normal that Weston would want to include others, be kind, giving, do thoughtful things…

As Eden slips further away calling for Weston, I bend over letting a roar of frustration and devastation loose. I know the statistics. If he isn’t found within two hours…

The urge to vomit is so overwhelming, I almost buckle. My experience in child trafficking only fuels my terror over what my son could be going through. We need to find him. My god, we have to find him. I straighten back up, pushing past the alarm. Faster than I’ve run in my life, I tear through the high grass toward the creek. “Eden?! Wes?! Weston?!”

Dissociating…I know I’m starting to because I’m shutting down emotionally. I’m moving through swaying grass that reaches my knees. My arms pump as I call out for Eden and Weston. I stop feet from the creek, the rocky edge more exposed due to the near drought conditions we’ve had for the last two months. The running water and the swish of the tree branches are the only sounds as I spin in a circle, hoping to catch sight of Eden.

This isn’t happening…It’s a dream. It’s not real.

Not real.

I hear distant voices calling out to Weston, a chorus of desperation. A numb, surreal feeling starts taking over. I see Eden’s footprints heading east along the muddied creek bed of the receded waters. “Eden!? Please stop, honey!” Don’t stop…don’t stop looking.

I finally catch up to her where the creek jags northeast. There is a fallen tree that makes crossing the creek necessary to continue. She’s down on her knees sobbing. “Oh, baby.” I fall to my knees next to her, pulling her into my arms. “We’ll find him, we’ll find him.”

But what if we don’t?

The world shrinks to a pinprick.

It’s us, clinging to each other for dear life.

“My sweet boy…my baby boy,” she cries out through sobs. “Someone has him, Keir. He’s gone…”

I don’t respond, too choked with tears.

This isn’t real…it’s not real. Wake up, wake the fuck up.

Suddenly, Matt is steps away, a tormented look on his face. He swoops down, wrapping his strong arms around us both and burying his face in Eden’s hair. “This shouldn’t have happened…” He’s damn right it shouldn’t have. But this feels coordinated…the trees down, the cameras off…maybe even Wes missing his bus. We just don’t know yet.

Could this be the copycat killer? Is it the person threatening Eden? A person retaliating against Matt, Hutton, or me? Or is it all unrelated?

I clutch one of Matt’s forearms, and we share a look over Eden’s head. My normally unflappable, steady force of a husband looks…lost.

Matt talks us into going back to the house. There is a search party out, and Hutton is going through all the camera feeds for any hint of suspicious activity. We can be of more help there. Each step going back causes me to shut down, going numb piece by piece.

I never understood when a veteran agent would discuss the fatal flaw of making cases personal. I do now. All those cases we’ve worked undercover, behind the scenes setting up takedowns where children were being abused. I made them personal. It was revenge on evil people like the cult leader of XIX who used people for profit. Greedy, soulless motherfuckers who get off on controlling and breaking children.

But in doing so, I relied on disconnecting emotionally. My default reaction is coming into play now. I’m in a fog.

I miss most of Matt’s words to Eden, his arm still wrapped around her waist while we walk back. “...call them. Kathy will keep them with her. I have agents at their home. I don’t think we should tell them exactly what’s going on yet.”

“What? What do you mean?” I shake my head. The encroaching fog is not clearing. I need to get a grip.

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