Lisa Childs - Sarah's Secrets

She almost acted as if she were ashamed. Of what? Of her marriage to an older guy? Of inheriting his money? How much money? Enough to make her son a prime target for a kidnapper?

He wished he could accept he had nothing to do with the threat against her son. But he’d stopped believing in coincidences long ago.

He glanced around, meeting the curious gazes of the people around them and searching beyond. The hair lifted on the nape of his neck. He knew someone was watching them, someone other than the parents of the other children.

But nobody would be foolhardy enough to attempt to abduct the boy with half of the town to witness and interfere. And as popular as the kid was, he traveled nowhere without his friends. He was probably safest in public, but in private…

“Jeremy, it’s time to go,” Sarah said, stopping a few feet from her son.

“Mom…”

“Jeremy, we have a guest.”

The boy flashed a smile at Royce. “Mr. Graham, I’d like you to meet my friends…”

Young faces swam before Royce’s eyes. Despite the cooling breeze, sweat beaded on his brow. These lively faces melded with images from the past. Staring eyes in dead faces… He jerked back a step. “I—I’d like to, but I have to make a call.”

The lie came easily but prompted him to remember Dylan. He should let the sheriff know they’d stopped off before heading back to Sarah’s. And maybe he should get those directions.

He dragged his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. “I’ll head back to the SUV while you say a quick goodbye.”

Sarah’s dark-gray eyes widened, and she took a step toward him. He lifted a hand and gestured with his head toward her son. She nodded and turned back to Jeremy. Whatever concern she’d felt for him had been replaced with a mother’s worry for her son.

He didn’t care. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone’s concern. The only one who’d ever really cared about him lay in a coma.

He rubbed his free hand over his unshaven jaw. He had to get Sarah back to Milwaukee, to a dying man’s bedside. But how would he get her away from Winter Falls?

Because they’d been later than the rest of the team to the ice cream parlor, he’d had to park the Avalanche around the block. He started toward the silver SUV, his finger hovering on the buttons of the cell phone. He’d neglected to get Dylan’s number. Did this little town even use 911?

Underneath the carriage of the SUV a shadow fell across the pavement. Someone crouched on the other side. Waiting for what?

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and slowed his stride. Stealthy steps carried him around the short pickup box on the back of the SUV.

A sweatshirt hood concealed the face of the person who crouched near the rear tire, his back to Royce. Royce widened his stance on the asphalt. He had just reached his arm to wrap around the would-be attacker’s neck when a hand came up.

The blade of a knife flashed, reflecting the afternoon sun. Had Royce’s approach been reflected in the shiny metal of the SUV?

He braced for an attack.

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