Page 7 of In Hiding

She pushed the file into his hands. “You can’t fail her. If you do, I will send Kit after you.”

He hesitated before taking the information. “I owe you.”

She nodded. “And believe me, I will call in the favor eventually.”

Jake held up the file. “I guess you’ll know where I’ll be, then.” He turned and headed toward the steps but stopped before descending. Turning, he took in her glowing radiance. It struck him dumb to think that it took being an asshole to Lucy to set him on the path to being the man he’d hoped to be. She had no idea the influence she’d held over his life, and it was on the tip of his tongue to say so.

“I know the way I treated you would suggest otherwise, but I cared very deeply for you.” And his time locked away had offered him a whole new perspective on her strength. “Still do. I will make you proud one day.”

She inclined her head. “You’d better.”

Jake sighed. “Thank you, Lucy.” He waved the folder. “I honestly don’t know how you can put aside what happened.”

“I haven’t, but I won’t dwell on it, Jake. Neither should you. Life is to be lived.”

With a nod, he started back down the steps and shoved the folder in the front of his jacket. Swinging his leg over the bike, he pulled on his helmet, started the engine, and left. The trip to his room at the Wills Crossing pub was short, but long enough for the icy chill in the air to settle in his limbs. In his room, he opened the folder and scanned the information.

A torn piece of paper fell out, fluttering to the carpet. Jake bent to retrieve the scrap, reading the details as he straightened.

Handyman sought for building and garden maintenance. Must have own transport.

The name on the advert didn’t match the one he’d been given. Returning to Lucy’s notes, it became apparent Erik’s sister had taken on a new name and resided here in Wills Crossing. What were the odds? Had to be a million to one that the very woman he was searching for was right here. Jake stared out the window at the dull afternoon and reluctantly accepted he’d be sticking around longer than expected.

He needed to start by reporting in at a local cop station to avoid breaching the conditions of his release. That sounded like fun.

Not.

~

Sarah looked up from the chopping board and glanced at the clock again. Where is he? School had finished hours ago and though he said he was going to the library to do some homework, he should’ve been home by now. Night had fallen and the darkness would make it harder for him to get home. It wasn’t like they were in the city. The only bus that came by was the school bus and the town center was more than an hour’s walk.

She checked her phone. No messages. No missed calls. Worry twisted in her gut as possibilities ran through her head.

At sixteen, Will had started to act like a teenage boy. Wild. Stubborn. Hard-headed. He wanted to make his own rules and prove his identity. Did he even know what that was? Did she? So busy protecting him from his father, she’d lost the little boy and didn’t know the young man emerging before her eyes.

Not paying attention, she missed the onion and sliced her finger instead. A sharp pain shot through her hand, causing her to drop the knife. She swore as it clattered to the counter. She picked up the tea-towel and wrapped it around her bloodied finger. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut against the sting of onion juice and took a slow, calming breath.

Well, it was supposed to calm, but no. Instead, her heart raced, and her mind latched onto the irrational fear that Will’s father had escaped prison and found him. Adrenaline surged through her system. Her finger throbbed. Peeling back the towel, the sight of blood made her queasy.

She ran the cold tap and stuck her finger under the water, gritting her teeth at both the agony and the cold. Pink water swirled down the drain, symbolizing the lack of control she had over the teen. His rebellion had started innocently enough. Selling single cigarettes to the other kids behind the bike shed at school wasn’t exactly crime syndicate behavior, but it was a red flag.

What is he up to now?

She almost hoped it was young love, that he’d gone all love-sick over a crush at school and they were hidden away sneaking kisses. Except, the lead fist in her gut told her he didn’t have a secret love.

The sound of a motor caught her attention. Turning off the tap, she wrapped her finger in the towel and moved through the enormous ground floor of the house toward the entrance. Headlights brightened the windows of the entry and when she pulled open the door, she found the police cruiser at the bottom of the steps.

Her heart sank as Senior Sergeant Neville Wilson stepped out into the crisp night air. His breath plumed in the cold as he fitted his cap to his head.

“Evening Ms. Andersen.”

She tried to smile but felt the grimace pull her cheeks tight. From the passenger seat, Will appeared, looking sullen. Sarah waited at the top step for them to join her.

Tall, blond, and fit, Neville Wilson nodded. “It seems I found young Will here enjoying a beverage with a few of his friends.”

Watching Will stumble up the steps, it became clear what the Sergeant meant by beverage. Her son grinned and hiccupped. “Mother.”

Momentarily lost for words, Sarah focused on the bloody tea-towel in her hands. Noticing the blood, Neville’s expression grew concerned. “I hope my arrival didn’t cause this. Can I help?”

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