The Cop's Missing Child. Karen WhiddonЧитать онлайн книгу.
have to wait and see.”
“Can we take a video of our own, Mommy? Pleeeease?”
“We’ll see.” She gave him a reassuring smile, just in case he sensed her jangled nerves. “Let’s wait until we find out what exactly got inside, okay?”
Nodding, he resumed playing with the little plastic airplane that had come with his meal.
An eternity passed, but finally they reached her street. The police car pulled into her driveway, and Mac motioned to Emily to park in the street one house down. She did as he asked, unwilling to take any chances with her son’s safety.
Heart in her throat, she watched as Mac got out and headed toward her house. As he went around to the backyard, Emily turned around to distract Ryan, not wanting him to notice that Mac had drawn his gun.
“Let’s go ahead and eat, honey,” she urged watching as he tore into his Good Times meal.
While he ate, she alternated between keeping an eye on him and watching her house. Trying to will her heartbeat to slow down, she took a tiny bite of her grilled chicken sandwich. Chewing what tasted like ashes, she managed to choke it down and swallowed hard, setting her food aside.
Ryan had finished his burger and half his fries and was already restless. “Mommy? What is the policeman doing inside our house?” he asked, squirming in his seat. “Can we go inside yet?”
About to answer, she spotted Mac heading toward her car, his large form making her feel ridiculously safe. “Just a minute, sweetheart.”
Rolling down the window, Emily peered up at the handsome man, trying not to hold her breath. “Well?”
“You’ve been burglarized,” he said grimly. “Though I can’t tell for sure what they were after. Your TV, stereo and computer were all untouched.”
“Jewelry, maybe?” A lot of the more valuable pieces in Emily’s collection had been given to her by Carlos, so she wouldn’t mind too badly if they’d been stolen. After all, she had renter’s insurance.
“I don’t think so,” he answered, his professional expression warring with the heat in his blue eyes. He glanced once at Ryan, then quickly back to her, keeping his gaze fixed on her face.
“Is it safe to go inside?” she asked, hating the note of breathlessness that had crept into her voice and hoping he put it down to her being upset about the break-in.
For an answer, he opened her door. “Come on. The house is clear. I’ll have you take a look, but glancing quickly through your things, it doesn’t appear the intruder touched anything.”
“Then why—” Emily started to ask, then looked down, reeling in shock. Suddenly, she knew exactly why the intruder had been in her home.
When she raised her head again to meet Mac’s gaze, she hoped her expression was calm. “In my office—” she began, ignoring his proffered hand and climbing out of the car.
“What about me?” Ryan asked, fumbling with his seat belt. “I wanna go, too.”
Emily glanced at Mac, receiving a nod of confirmation that it was safe. He seemed to be making a studious effort to avoid looking at her son, which, since it made no sense, was probably a figment of her imagination. “Of course you can come. We’re home, after all. We’re safe here.” She emphasized the word safe, so Mac would not say anything unduly alarming within Ryan’s hearing.
“Good.” Her five-year-old sounded unfazed, cheerful rather than frightened. He jumped out of the car, landing on both feet with a solid splunk.
“Hey, there,” Mac said from behind her, making her start slightly, which Ryan noticed. When he looked up, he saw the unfamiliar man for the first time. Pulling on her leg, her son tried to disappear behind her.
“Honey, it’s all right,” she soothed. “This is Deputy Riordan. He’s here to help us find out who broke into our house.”
Ryan peeked out from around her leg. Glancing from her boy to the man who now crouched down to put himself at Ryan’s level, she was surprised to see a look of naked, awful pain on Mac’s craggy face.
She was about to ask him what was wrong but forced herself to hold her tongue.
“Go ahead and say hello to the nice policeman,” she urged softly.
Holding himself rigidly, her brave little boy eased out and around her and then held out his hand. “I’m Ryan Gilley,” he said politely, exactly as she’d taught him.
Gently taking the small hand, Mac swallowed hard as he shook it. Again, she realized he appeared to be in the throes of some deep, strong emotion, which made her wonder if she’d been right, and he’d actually lost a child.
“Pleased to meet you, Ryan,” Mac finally said, his voice husky. “I like your backpack.”
This was exactly the right comment to make. Ryan had spent hours searching for the perfect backpack. He’d ignored the popular cartoon characters and chosen a green-and-tan camouflage material pack. When she’d asked him why, he’d told her he wanted to be a hunter when he got older. Since he wouldn’t even harm a spider, insisting she carry it outside rather than squishing it, she couldn’t imagine that ever happening, but let it go.
“Thanks.” Glancing up at Emily, Ryan edged closer. “Come on, Mommy. I want to make sure nobody stole any of my toys.”
Exchanging a quick glance with Mac, Emily nodded and held out her hand for Ryan to take. He did so and then began tugging on her, clearly in a hurry to get inside the house.
Stepping into her living room, Emily stifled a gasp. The place hadn’t been merely burglarized—it had been trashed. It was torn up, tossed around and destroyed on purpose. Though Ryan continued to pull her in the general direction of his bedroom, she couldn’t help but slow and try to take in the sheer scope of the damage.
“Hang on a minute, Ryan,” she said sharply. “Stay here with Mommy while I look around.”
About to protest, Ryan glanced from her to the sheriff’s deputy and nodded instead.
While she stood, trying to take in the scope of the destruction, all she could think of was to be thankful she and Ryan hadn’t been home. She could clean up the mess, replace whatever had been stolen, but if anyone had harmed her son … The very thought made her shudder.
Wordlessly, Mac came up beside her, placing a hand reassuringly on her shoulder as if he knew her thoughts.
Instantly, she jerked away. “Where’s Renee? I’d really hoped—”
“You do want to find this stalker, right?”
Emily stiffened. “Of course. It’s just—”
“I’m assigned to your case. And I’m good. I promise you that I will find this guy.”
The brief urge that had her wanting to lean against Mac appalled her. She nodded, wondering why she had such a strong, adverse reaction to him. It wasn’t as if the man had actually done anything to warrant her mistrust and suspicion—well, aside from following her into Sue’s Catfish Hut the first time they’d met. Maybe it was her persistent, instantaneous attraction to him.
Could she trust him? Did she even have a choice?
Aware both he and Ryan were watching her expectantly, she forced a pleasant, if humorless, smile. “All right. Why don’t you tell me what you’re going to do about this?”
Spreading her hands to encompass the total trashing of her home, she realized she was perilously close to tears. That knowledge alone was enough to cause her to shore up her shoulders, take a deep breath and lift her chin.
“We’ll find the guy,” he said simply. “I promise you that.”
“Thank you.” She hoped he didn’t notice the catch in her voice. Glancing down