Page 87 of Winter Vows

“Now that is not a word I like to hear,” he said, suddenly tense. “You haven’t called the police, have you?”

She hesitated, then saw no point in lying. Obviously he’d already guessed that she had. “What else was I supposed to do when my son vanished from the backyard? Just let it pass and pray you were the one who had him?”

“He’sourson, Kelsey. You might have custody, but he’s still my boy, too.”

“Is that what this is about? Some belated sense of possessiveness?”

“We’ll discuss it another time,” he said tersely and hung up before she could think of some way to stop him.

“It wasn’t long enough,” she muttered, hearing the frantic note in her voice, the catch of a sob, and guessing that she was about to lose it again. She drew in a deep breath, fought for control, then met Lizzy’s worried gaze. “Call Dylan, will you? He needs to know about this. I need to get out of here for a second.”

She had gone outside and walked around the block, then circled it again at an even faster clip. She wasn’t sure if she was running from something or just blocking out the pain. Either way, she was breathless by the time she got back home again and Dylan was waiting for her on the front lawn.

Seeing him there, his expression solemn, his gaze penetrating, she sighed with relief. She didn’t know exactly what it was about him, but as long as she could see him, she had the feeling that everything would turn out okay. Was that something a good private investigator learned how to do, to reassure the victims of crimes, to instill confidence, to radiate a rock-solid strength? Or was it unique to this man? “You okay?” he asked, his study of her face never wavering.

“Just peachy,” she responded acerbically. “Okay, dumb question. Let’s get to the point,” he said briskly. “Tell me what Paul said when he called.”

His quick reversion to strict professionalism calmed her. But then she thought back to the brief conversation and felt tears of frustration build again. “Nothing, dammit. I forgot all the questions I had planned, but he was so careful. He wouldn’t give me so much as a hint about where they are. He barely let Bobby say hello.”

“Did Bobby sound okay?”

Thinking of that sweet whisper of a greeting, she choked up and settled for nodding.

Dylan tucked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze up. “He didn’t sound frightened, did he?” She thought about it. He’d only said a word or two, so it was hard to tell, but no, he hadn’t sounded scared. “Actually, no,” she admitted.

He smiled. “See? He’s doing okay. He probably thinks this is just a big adventure with his dad. It’s the grown-ups back here who are scared, not your son.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” she said, clinging to it. As furious as she was with Paul, this could be so much worse. Bobby was fine. He just wasn’t where he belonged—with her.

She met Dylan’s gaze. “Thank you for making me see that. I won’t stop worrying until he’s back here, but I’m not as panicked as I was.”

Dylan nodded, then glanced toward the house where neighbors were still gathered in small groups on the lawn and on the porch. “Feel like another walk around the block?”

“Why?”

“Fewer people. There are a few more questions I need to ask you.”

“I’ve already told you everything,” she protested. “Paul was only on the line a minute.”

Dylan grinned. “You just think you’ve told me everything.” He gestured toward the sidewalk. “You game?”

Uncertain what more she could possibly add, she still set off around the block again, albeit at a slower pace. Suddenly she was aware of just how hot it was. The late morning heat rose from the cement in waves. The sun beat down, making her clothes cling and her hair damp. It was hardly the time for a stroll, but then this wasn’t about getting a little exercise or even settling her nerves. It was about Dylan grilling her, she realized as he began to bombard her with questions.

“First thing you heard when you picked up the phone?” he asked.

“Bobby’s voice,” she said at once.

“Right away? There wasn’t a pause. Kids don’t usually speak right off. It takes them a second to realize there’s somebody on the line.”

She thought back. Had she heard Paul coaching him? Telling him to say hi to Mommy? “Paul,” she said with a sense of amazement. “I heard him telling Bobby to say something.”

Dylan nodded his approval. “Good. Anything else? Cars? Dishes being set down on a counter? Music? A clock striking the hour? A church bell?” Kelsey slowed her pace, then stopped and closed her eyes, listening to the silence, listening with everything in her for some clue. Finally she sighed with frustration. “Nothing,” she said, staring at Dylan in disappointment.

“No TV in the background?”

“No. I told you, I didn’t hear anything except Bobby’s voice, then Paul’s.”

“What about road noise? Could he have been on a cell phone?”

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