“I don’t even need to see Wyatt. In fact, I’m not sure I want to, but if we can catch Alice before she heads into Tucson, I’d like to give it a try.”
He grabbed his cell phone from the console and made a call to the station. Agent Perez picked up. “Dillon here. Did the caseworker already leave with Wyatt Lemoin? We forgot to give her...something.”
“She left about fifteen minutes ago, but you might be able to catch her before she gets to the 10. She asked about a drive-through where she could pick up some food for the road.”
“Thanks, Perez.” Nash ended the call and dropped the phone in his cup holder. “We’ll try to catch up with her before she hits the 10.”
Nash navigated to the two-lane road that led to the 10 freeway with a heavy foot. Once Alice got to the freeway, they wouldn’t be able to stop her.
He glanced at Emily hugging the caterpillar to her chest, a small smile curving her lips. She’d better not be up to something.
Five minutes of driving and they’d seen just one other car on the road. He took the next curve and eased off the gas pedal as he spotted a white car up ahead. He tapped the windshield. “Does that look like Alice’s car?”
Emily hunched forward in her seat and shoved her sunglasses into her hair. “Yeah, maybe, but that car isn’t moving, Nash. It’s on the side of the road.”
“Are you sure?” He squinted through the shimmering waves that pulsed off the scorching pavement and plucked off his own sunglasses. Dusk in the desert could come on fast and create optical illusions.
They drew closer to the white car, and as it got bigger, he realized Emily was right—it wasn’t moving. The hair on the back of his neck quivered. “I think that is the car. Maybe she’s changing Wyatt.”
“In the middle of the desert.” Emily shot forward in her seat. “A DCS worker wouldn’t do that.”
“Unless he got sick.”
Emily’s hands clenched as she pressed them against her stomach. “Is it crooked? Does the car look like it’s parked at an angle to you?”
“Some.” Nash slowed the truck and blew out a breath. “She’s in the car.”
“What’s she doing?” Emily had grabbed the handle of the truck as if ready to jump out now.
Denali barked into the tension radiating throughout the truck’s cab.
Nash put on his signal and rolled over the gravel on the side of the road, kicking up dust. His heart hammered against his rib cage. “Why the hell is she sitting there?”
Before the truck came to a complete stop, Emily threw open the door. “Something’s wrong.”
“Maybe she had some car trouble.” Nash cut the engine and made a grab for Emily as she slipped out of the truck. “Wait, Emily.”
As he opened his own door, Emily scurried to the driver’s side of Alice’s car. Emily stumbled back, her hand to her chest, her mouth gaping.
Nash charged out of his vehicle and strode toward Emily, his shoes crunching over glass in the road. When he got to the white car, he stared through the jagged glass at Alice sitting upright behind the wheel—a bullet hole in her head.
Chapter Thirteen
Emily huffed air from her nostrils to expel the sickening metallic taste that seeped down her throat, making her gag. She stumbled past Nash and yanked open the back door of Alice’s car.
She blinked at the empty seat and dived into the car, sweeping her hand across the leather as if Wyatt’s car seat were just invisible. She flung herself forward and buried her head in her arms. “They took him. They took Wyatt.”
Behind her, Nash spoke urgently into his cell phone, his words muffled through the pounding blood in her ears.
His hand stroked the back of her calf. “Emily? I called the Paradiso police and Detective Espinoza. They’re on their way. Come on out. You might be compromising the crime scene.”
Covering her face, she scooted out of the car backward until her feet touched the ground.
Nash curled an arm around her waist and pulled her out the rest of the way. She barreled into his chest, sobbing against his shoulder.
“I knew it. I knew Wyatt was in danger. As soon as he left us, I’ve been fearing for his safety.”
Nash smoothed her hair back from her hot forehead and set her away from him to look into her eyes. “There’s good news here.”
“Here?” She flung her arm back at the bloody mess in the front seat and the yawning emptiness of the back. “What could possibly be good?”
“They took Wyatt. They didn’t kill him.”
At the thought of Wyatt’s death, her knees buckled, and Nash caught her arm. “Think about it. If they wanted to get rid of Wyatt, they could’ve done so when they overtook Alice and killed her. They didn’t.”
She rubbed her eyes and cranked her head around to peer into the back seat again—this time to look for Wyatt’s little lifeless body. She nodded jerkily, as if someone were pulling strings to make her move, as her muscles seemed frozen.
“But for what purpose? Why did they take him? What are they going to do with him?”
Nash’s voice continued to soothe. “They took his car seat. They took his diaper bag.”
“They took him. Why?” That one word threatened to turn into a wail, so she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“What has Wyatt always been, even to his own mother? A bargaining chip. Not that I trust Brett any farther than I can drop-kick him, but he made the claim that Jaycee planned to use Wyatt to blackmail Lanier. Like I said before, that sounds like a Jaycee move. And those two thugs wanted Wyatt to force Brett to give himself up to them. Lanier wanted Wyatt for some other reason, and that’s why he hired you. Was it to find out if he’s the boy’s father? Was it a countermove against Jaycee?”
Emily doubled over.
