right?
Rage swelled, but he pictured a manhole cover dropped over
bubbling magma. Easy now. Slow down. It will be okay.
You’ll see them soon.
Barrett couldn’t wait to begin fresh, united as a family, never
again to be parted.
The macadam grit crunched beneath his shoes as he crossed the
street, leaving behind the clang of steel locks, the meaty stench, and the
bellows and grunts of the animals he’d been forced to live with all these
months. Barrett looked ahead toward his mother, standing beside the Range Rover,
as elegant and self-possessed as ever.
As he reached the curb, her polished smile faltered. He’d
changed. He knew that. He was all muscle now, his face gaunt and raw-looking,
his lips red and chapped, his eyes haunted, circled in black.
His mother reached to embrace him, but he held up his hands.
“Not while I stink of prison.” He saw dry-cleaning bags through the window.
She’d brought fresh clothes as instructed.
Barrett noticed tears on her cheeks. “No more tears. It’s
over.”
His mother shook her head. “It’s not over, Barrett. They’re
gone. I’m so sorry.”
“Gone? What do you mean… gone? ”
“Cara and Beth Ann took off. They wouldn’t tell Deborah where
they were going.”
He felt like he’d been punched. His insides seemed to collapse
and his knees sagged. “She ran away? She took Beth Ann?”
Rage surged, rattling the manhole cover. “She can’t do that. I
have rights. She’s breaking the law. I won’t have it. I won’t permit it.”
His mother jerked back, frightened of his outburst.
“I’m not angry at you,” he said. “It’s a shock, that’s all.”
Hands shaking, he took a pill from the envelope in his pocket and swallowed it
dry.
“Cara has been so cruel,” his mother said bitterly. “She
refused my help, cut me off. She’s probably brain damaged from the accident. She
shouldn’t be allowed to raise Beth Ann.”
“Stop,” he snapped. “Cara is my wife and I love her. Don’t
speak of her that way.”
His mother’s cheeks turned red at his rebuke.
“She’s afraid,” Barrett said. “She can’t help that.” He’d
studied psychology in the prison library and identified Cara’s condition. “It’s
part of her disorder to be paranoid and hysterical. When I find her, we’ll
straighten it all out.” He’d get her the psychiatric help she needed.
“I’m sure you will.” His mother was always on his side. He was
grateful to her for that.
“First, I want to change my clothes, then I want prime rib and
two martinis. Then I’ll make some calls.”
He knew exactly which investigator to hire. Francis Malloy knew
how to bend the rules when the case required it. Certainly this one did. They
were putting a broken family back together. They were on the side of the
angels.
He would let Malloy start skip tracing—using database searches
and other means to track someone down—while he went to see Cara’s mother.
Deborah adored him. He’d bent the rules to handle her asshole boyfriend all
those years ago. The creep had been stubborn, requiring an overnight in an
emergency room to convince him to leave the state.
Deborah probably knew more than she realized about Cara’s
plans. Barrett was very good at ferreting out information.
“It will be all right,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt,
reaching for the fresh clothes. He would make it all
right. He had to. If he didn’t get his family back, all his suffering and
sacrifice would have been for nothing.
Barrett would get his family or die trying.
* * *
L OUIS STEPPED SLOWLY into the circle of sun where Beth Ann had put the
cream. She held her breath, held still. Today was the day she would pet him.
Monday, he’d taken one sip before he ran. Tuesday, he’d drunk
half the bowl, watching her with his one eye. Yesterday, he’d finished it,
hardly giving her a glance. He was used to her.
She was glad they were staying long enough for her to make
friends with Louis. It was because
Rage swelled, but he pictured a manhole cover dropped over
bubbling magma. Easy now. Slow down. It will be okay.
You’ll see them soon.
Barrett couldn’t wait to begin fresh, united as a family, never
again to be parted.
The macadam grit crunched beneath his shoes as he crossed the
street, leaving behind the clang of steel locks, the meaty stench, and the
bellows and grunts of the animals he’d been forced to live with all these
months. Barrett looked ahead toward his mother, standing beside the Range Rover,
as elegant and self-possessed as ever.
As he reached the curb, her polished smile faltered. He’d
changed. He knew that. He was all muscle now, his face gaunt and raw-looking,
his lips red and chapped, his eyes haunted, circled in black.
His mother reached to embrace him, but he held up his hands.
“Not while I stink of prison.” He saw dry-cleaning bags through the window.
She’d brought fresh clothes as instructed.
Barrett noticed tears on her cheeks. “No more tears. It’s
over.”
His mother shook her head. “It’s not over, Barrett. They’re
gone. I’m so sorry.”
“Gone? What do you mean… gone? ”
“Cara and Beth Ann took off. They wouldn’t tell Deborah where
they were going.”
He felt like he’d been punched. His insides seemed to collapse
and his knees sagged. “She ran away? She took Beth Ann?”
Rage surged, rattling the manhole cover. “She can’t do that. I
have rights. She’s breaking the law. I won’t have it. I won’t permit it.”
His mother jerked back, frightened of his outburst.
“I’m not angry at you,” he said. “It’s a shock, that’s all.”
Hands shaking, he took a pill from the envelope in his pocket and swallowed it
dry.
“Cara has been so cruel,” his mother said bitterly. “She
refused my help, cut me off. She’s probably brain damaged from the accident. She
shouldn’t be allowed to raise Beth Ann.”
“Stop,” he snapped. “Cara is my wife and I love her. Don’t
speak of her that way.”
His mother’s cheeks turned red at his rebuke.
“She’s afraid,” Barrett said. “She can’t help that.” He’d
studied psychology in the prison library and identified Cara’s condition. “It’s
part of her disorder to be paranoid and hysterical. When I find her, we’ll
straighten it all out.” He’d get her the psychiatric help she needed.
“I’m sure you will.” His mother was always on his side. He was
grateful to her for that.
“First, I want to change my clothes, then I want prime rib and
two martinis. Then I’ll make some calls.”
He knew exactly which investigator to hire. Francis Malloy knew
how to bend the rules when the case required it. Certainly this one did. They
were putting a broken family back together. They were on the side of the
angels.
He would let Malloy start skip tracing—using database searches
and other means to track someone down—while he went to see Cara’s mother.
Deborah adored him. He’d bent the rules to handle her asshole boyfriend all
those years ago. The creep had been stubborn, requiring an overnight in an
emergency room to convince him to leave the state.
Deborah probably knew more than she realized about Cara’s
plans. Barrett was very good at ferreting out information.
“It will be all right,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt,
reaching for the fresh clothes. He would make it all
right. He had to. If he didn’t get his family back, all his suffering and
sacrifice would have been for nothing.
Barrett would get his family or die trying.
* * *
L OUIS STEPPED SLOWLY into the circle of sun where Beth Ann had put the
cream. She held her breath, held still. Today was the day she would pet him.
Monday, he’d taken one sip before he ran. Tuesday, he’d drunk
half the bowl, watching her with his one eye. Yesterday, he’d finished it,
hardly giving her a glance. He was used to her.
She was glad they were staying long enough for her to make
friends with Louis. It was because
Similar Books
