Megan gasped.
“I have witnesses. My neighbors saw everything. I can give you their names.”
“Surely you called the police.”
“One of the neighbors did. Carl ran off when he heard the sirens. I hid, let the neighbors talk to the police. I didn’t want them to know it was me.”
“That must’ve been awful. I’m so sorry.” She placed her arm around Bonnie’s shoulders and squeezed. As others had noted before, whether Megan’s name was followed by D.D. or Esq., her counseling technique didn’t change much.
“It was,” Bonnie whispered. “It was a nightmare.” She clutched her handkerchief so tightly she could have wrung water from it. “I was so scared. I’m still scared.”
“Scared that he’ll come back?”
“Scared of what he might do. Especially if he gets to Tommy.”
“Surely he wouldn’t hurt his own son.”
Bonnie’s eyes widened impossibly, and the flood of tears continued. “I know Carl. He’s thinking, If I can’t have Tommy, no one can.”
A hollow ache resounded in the pit of Megan’s stomach. It was a feeling she had learned to trust. “Forgive me for asking, Bonnie, but where’s. Tommy now?”
“He’s at his school-it’s a private school. Villa Veronica. I didn’t want to bring him here. Didn’t want him to see me like this.”
“I don’t want to alarm you,” Megan said evenly, “but I think you should call. Right now.” She yanked her cordless phone out of its cradle and passed it to Bonnie. “Just to check.”
Bonnie nodded. Slowly, with trembling hands, she punched seven numbers onto the keypad.
A moment later, Megan heard a click that told her someone had answered the phone. “H-hello. This is Bonnie Cantrell. I–I wanted to check on Tommy.”
Megan looked away, but continued to listen. “Yes,” she heard Bonnie say. “Yes.” Then there was a sudden intake of air. “
Megan whirled around. “What is it? What happened?”
Bonnie looked up wordlessly. The phone fell out of her hands and landed on the carpet with a thud. “He isn’t there.”
“Isn’t there? How can that be?” Her answer was more whispered than spoken. “They say his father picked him up.”
5
Carl exited I-35 and pulled into the parking lot of the Toys
Carl had taken Tommy straight from the school to his car, but ever since then, Tommy had been almost motionless, sitting in the passenger seat staring out the window. No matter what ploy Carl tried to engage him in conversation, Tommy remained silent.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The boy had barely seen him these past years. Once they had been as close as any two buddies on the face of the earth, but that was a long time ago now. Baby days, to a mature man of seven. He probably didn’t even remember.
Damn that woman! She had no right to take his son away from him. She had no right to erect a wall between them. God only knew what horrible things she’d been telling Tommy about him. No wonder he didn’t speak, didn’t seem comfortable. She had probably turned his father into the biggest bogeyman who ever walked the earth. Probably maligned him while glorifying that sorry SOB she was with now.
“Damn!” he shouted aloud, pounding his fist on the dash.
He froze, suddenly embarrassed. His son was watching him. Not staring, but surreptitiously peering at him out of the corner of his eye.
Way to go, Carl, he swore silently to himself. The boy was already uncomfortable and confused. Now you’ve managed to totally alienate him.
It’s too late. He tried to block out the thought, but it kept coming just the same. It’s too late to undo all the damage she’s done. He will never be yours again. Not unless you take him away from her. Not unless you take him away for good.
He parked the car, trying to quash the fears that haunted him. “Let’s get out of the car,” he growled.
He slid out of the seat. As he slammed the door, he noticed his son hadn’t budged. “Well, are you coming already?” he said, waving his hands in the air.
Tommy popped the door open.
Carl shook his head. It seemed like only yesterday he had held this boy in his arms and rocked him to sleep. Now the kid came up to his waist. He had a thick thatch of jet-black hair that whipped across his head and hung lopsided over one side of his face. That was the fashion these days, he supposed, stupid-looking as it was. He decided not to make a fuss, even if it did make the kid look like a sissy. His whole face seemed round and soft; obviously his mother had been pampering him, treating him like a baby doll instead of a real boy, exposing him to weak-kneed influences like that boyfriend-
He stopped himself. He had to get out of this, had to concentrate on his son. He’d gone to all this trouble to get the kid; he should start taking advantage. Especially since he knew their time was limited.
They started across the parking lot. He reached for his son’s hand, but the boy pulled away. “So what’re you wanting for Christmas this year, son?”
The boy didn’t look at him. “Mama says Santa will bring what I want tomorrow.”
Carl rolled his eyes. The kid was seven and he still believed in Santa. Pampered. And he thinks he’s going to get everything he wants. Spoiled.
“There must be something else you want. Something they don’t have at the North Pole.”
Tommy’s head twitched a bit, though he still didn’t make eye contact. “Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter,” he mumbled.
“What was that? What did you say?”
Tommy shrugged. “One of the kids at school has a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. With the Super-Explosive Power Pack. You know, like on the TV show.”
“Oh, right,” Carl feigned. “Like on the show.”
“’Course, that’s Corey Chambers. He has everything.”
“Oh. I thought you had everything.”
Tommy shrugged. “Not like Corey Chambers does.”
Carl smiled sympathetically. The kid was talking to him!
They stepped up on the curb. A would-be Santa stood in front of the entrance, ringing his bell and trying to persuade shoppers to toss their spare change into his big red cauldron. Carl brushed by him quickly. He didn’t have any change to spare. The two electronic-eye doors slid open and he and Tommy entered the store.
Or tried, anyway. The place was jam-packed, so much so that they could barely make their way through the entry.
“What’s going on here?” Carl said.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Tommy explained.
“I know, but …” Carl tried to push his way forward, without much success. It was a madhouse. Bodies, carts, strollers blocked the aisles. People were tearing items off the shelves. Desperate expressions were plastered on the faces of adults as they struggled to reach the items they needed. There was kicking and shoving and a frequent exchange of very un-Christmas-like remarks. Pure pandemonium.
Tommy frowned. “We’ll never get a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m not giving up that easily.” Carl pushed his way forward, knocking people out of the way, while Tommy
