“I’ll try to be home as soon as I can,” she said. “I’ll call in the morning if I can’t be there. So Chris can talk to me.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Megan said good-bye and broke the connection. She halted in the parking lot and flipped through her phone book index, stopping on Boyd and Tonya Fletcher’s phone number. She punched the Talk button.
Six rings later, the phone was answered. The clanks and clunks that carried over the connection told Megan that the person who answered the phone was having a hard time.
“Hello,” Tonya croaked in a sleep-filled voice.
“Tonya,” Megan said, “this is Megan Gander.” She paused to let the young woman take the information in. Even at her best, Tonya seemed a step behind the rest of the world. She had her hopes and dreams, but she didn’t quite seem in touch with all the realities of her life.
“Come on, Mrs. Gander,” Tonya protested. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Yes,” Megan assured her. “There’s been a problem, Tonya.”
“What kind of problem?” Worry and anxiety filled Tonya’s voice.
Megan heard the creak of the bed. She knew the younger woman was probably sitting up and only then learning that her husband wasn’t there. The time was early for some of the bars and the afterhours clubs that remained open illegally.
“Can you tell me if Gerry is there?” Megan asked.
“He’s in his bedroom,” Tonya said.
“Are you sure?”
“I put him to bed, Mrs. Gander. I should know where my own kid is.”
Yes, Megan silently agreed, you should. Instead, she said, “Gerry was at the base hospital just a short time ago, Tonya.”
“No way.” Tonya sounded angry and confused at the same time. “He’s in his bed.”
Megan listened to the change in the phone’s pitch, knowing that Tonya Fletcher was walking through the house. She waited patiently, hoping that the woman was going to tell her that Gerry had returned home. If he had, Megan was content to let things at the Fletcher home gel for the moment and concentrate on getting Boyd Fletcher blocked from being around his son without proper supervision.
A moment later, Tonya’s voice took on a note of hysteria. “He’s not here, Mrs. Gander. He’s not here. His bed is empty. Where did you say he was?”
“He was here at the base hospital,” Megan replied as calmly as she could. If Gerry hadn’t run home, where had he gone? He didn’t have good friends at school, there were no other families or kids that Gerry talked about. Boyd Fletcher hadn’t let his son get close to anyone else. Except for the base-assigned youth counselor who wasn’t quite able to do her job well enough to save him.
“Where is Gerry now?” Tonya demanded.
“I don’t know, Tonya,” Megan admitted. “But we’re going to find him.”
“How could you lose my baby?” Tonya was sobbing now, the draining noise broken intermittently by hiccups.
“We didn’t lose him,” Megan said patiently. “He checked himself in for emergency care. He was treated, and he’s fine. A couple bumps and bruises.”
“He fell,” Tonya said quickly. “He fell again. You know how clumsy he is, Mrs. Gander. He’s always falling.”
“We’ll talk about that later.”
“I’ve got to get off the phone,” Tonya said. “I’ve got to call Boyd.”
“Boyd’s here,” Megan said. She was conscious of the attention she was getting from the three young men in the muscle car.
One of them got out of the vehicle. The slim young black man wore gray sweat pants and a red muscle shirt that showed off tattoos on his deltoids. Megan couldn’t be sure because of the uncertain light, but the tattoos looked like West Coast gang symbols, dark blue ink barely standing out against the ebony.
“Boyd’s there?” Tonya’s tone indicated that made no sense to her. “What is he doing there?”
“He came looking for Gerry.”
“He knew Gerry was in the hospital?”
“I don’t know how he knew Gerry was here,” Megan replied. She filed the question away because it was a good one, and one that she wanted the answer to herself. “Boyd assaulted two of the security men at the hospital. He’s been arrested.”
“That … that’s crazy!”
“Tonya,” Megan said. “I need you to listen to me.” She spoke like she was talking to a child, like she was explaining to Chris why he couldn’t watch some of the violent cartoons on the networks. “Can you listen to me, Tonya?”
“Sure. Sure, I guess. Did you have Boyd arrested?”
“No,” Megan answered.
“Because you don’t know what he can be like when he gets upset.”
Megan thought about the damage she’d seen done to Gerry, how Boyd Fletcher had fought the two young Rangers. She figured she could guess how Boyd Fletcher was. “You don’t have to worry about your husband for a while, Tonya. He’s been taken to lockup. I’m going to need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About what happened to Gerry tonight.”
“Nothing happened to Gerry. He fell. I told you he fell.”
“Then why didn’t you bring him to the hospital?”
“He wasn’t hurt bad.”
“He came to the hospital,” Megan pointed out. God, please help me here. Thank You for letting me know Joey is okay, but there’s still Goose out there, and Gerry is lost. Please help me deal with this the right way.
“He was just overreacting,” Tonya said defensively. “He knows how you like to baby him. He’s probably just acting out to get your attention.”
“Then he beat himself up severely to get my attention.” Megan didn’t mean to drop that on the woman, but she was beyond self-restraint and control. Where would an eleven-year-old boy run after seeing his father, the man—no, the thing—he most feared in the world, get hauled down by two Rangers? Gerry was still at a young age. He wouldn’t believe that the two Rangers would be able to stop his father. He’d believe that Boyd Fletcher was like one of the monsters in the teen movies, the ones that just
