Her Stolen Son. Rita Herron
she would die protecting him.
Suddenly exhausted, she lay back on the cot and closed her eyes. But just as she was about to fall asleep, the image of Lyle Rice’s face materialized. Then her foster father.
Except this time he and Lyle were teaming up, and they were both chasing Petey…
She jerked up, shaking all over, a chill skating up her spine.
Please, Colt, help me. And please hurry…
PETEY ROCKED back and forth in the big chair, his legs dangling. Mr. Colt had been gone a long time.
He kept staring at the door, hoping he’d come in any minute.
Hoping his mommy would be with him and she’d take him home. And this horrible day would be over.
Mr. Colt’s friend Mr. Derrick set a drawing pad and some crayons on the coffee table. “Wanna draw while we wait on Colt to get back?”
He stared at the crayons and paper for a minute. He was a pretty good drawer. But he didn’t feel like drawing. His stomach was growling and jumping up and down, he was so hungry.
Maybe he should have broken out of jail after that mac and cheese.
Petey shook his head. “No. I wanna go home.”
Mr. Derrick nodded. “I know. Maybe when Colt returns, he can tell us when you and your mother can go home.”
Footsteps squeaked on the floor. His heart pounded. He sat up straighter. His mommy was coming back now. She’d hug him hard, and then they’d get lunch and ice cream and forget about this awful day.
But Ms. Brianna walked in the door instead.
Petey went stone-cold still.
Mr. Colt hadn’t helped him at all. He’d lied to him.
Tears clogged his throat. He’d trusted him ’cause his name was the name of the gun his daddy had told him about.
But Mr. Colt had called the kid jail to come and get him.
Would they put those metal things on his hands this time like they had his mommy to keep him from running away again?
Chapter Three
Serena’s comment about being in the system disturbed Colt. What had happened to her while she was in foster care? Had someone hurt her?
Knowing that was very possible, he hated even more that her son would be forced to stay in the orphanage or with a foster family until this mess was sorted out and she was cleared.
Granted she was cleared.
God knew he’d seen enough cases go awry not to completely trust the court system.
Colt stepped into the front office and phoned Kay Krantz, an attorney he’d met when he was on the force. She was kind, compassionate and a pit bull in court. As soon as he explained that Serena was a single mother whose husband had been killed on the force, she agreed to rush over.
Next he phoned Ben Camp at GAI. Ben was their go-to technical guy. If he couldn’t hack into it or trace it, it couldn’t be done. “Ben, it’s Colt. Did you talk to Derrick?”
“Yeah, he filled Gage and all the agents in on your case. Where are you?”
“The sheriff’s department. I just met with the little boy’s mother, and I believe her story.” He explained about Lyle Rice’s advances, Serena’s rejection and that the man had hurt the boy.
“How was he killed?”
“I don’t know any details yet, but I’m going to talk to the sheriff now. I also phoned Kay Krantz, and she agreed to represent Serena. She’s on the way.”
“So you believe this Stover woman is innocent?”
Colt hesitated. He’d been fooled by women before. But not for a long time. One plus of working undercover was that he’d become a good judge of character, both good and bad. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then I’ll see what I can dig up on Rice. If the man has skeletons, they’re coming out of the closet.”
“Thanks, Camp. I’ll update you once I talk to Sheriff Gray.”
Colt strode to the sheriff’s office and knocked on the door. The sheriff glanced up from the file on his desk and gestured for him to come in.
“I didn’t expect to have GAI in on this investigation,” Sheriff Gray said without preamble.
Colt shrugged. “Her kid made a good case.”
Gray nodded, his expression troubled. “I haven’t interrogated Ms. Stover yet. She was too upset when we first brought her in.”
So the sheriff had a touch of compassion. If he’d really believed the woman was a cold-blooded killer, he would have gone for the jugular before she’d had time to concoct a phony story.
Colt crossed his arms. “So, what evidence do you have against Serena Stover to warrant an arrest?”
Sheriff Gray leaned back in his seat, and propped his feet on his desk. “You know I don’t have to tell you that.”
“True. But I have a feeling you will.”
“Does Ms. Stover have a lawyer?”
Colt folded his arms. “She’s on her way.”
Sheriff Gray nodded as if he’d expected as much. “Then we might as well discuss it all at once.”
Colt wanted answers now. “The news reporter said you didn’t find a body. Have you recovered it yet?”
Sheriff Gray fiddled with the pen on his desk. “No.”
Colt frowned. “Then how can you be certain there was a murder?”
“There is other convincing evidence,” the sheriff said in a tone indicating he didn’t intend to argue—or reveal all the information he had at the moment.
“How about cause of death?”
Gray’s expression shut down. “I told you we’d discuss this with Ms. Stover and her attorney. Now, I need to make a call.”
Colt hesitated. He wanted to push for more, but Sheriff Gray gestured toward the door, and he remembered Gage’s warning about staying on Gray’s good side.
Anxious for the attorney to arrive, he stepped outside to wait for Kay. But questions nagged at him. What the hell did Gray have on Serena?
Whatever it was, it had to be pretty damn convincing.
A red convertible zoomed down the street, then whirled into a parking spot in front of the sheriff’s office. Kay Krantz. A second later, she climbed out, looking all-business in a tailored blue suit. She was a beauty, but it was the ferocious attorney at work that he admired.
Still, there had never been anything between them except friendship and a healthy respect for each other’s jobs. Like Serena, she was still grieving over the loss of her husband. Maybe one day she’d move past it and some lucky bastard would snag her.
Right now, he just wanted her to help Serena Stover and her little boy.
“You talked to the sheriff?” she asked, slinging a black leather briefcase over one shoulder.
“He’s waiting for you.” He opened the door to the sheriff’s office, and she sashayed inside. “By the way, he hasn’t questioned Serena yet. She was too upset when he arrested her.”
Her eyebrow quirked at that, but she flipped a strand of her long black hair over her shoulder and forged on. The moment she entered the office, the sheriff’s eyes lit up.
“Kay Krantz,” she said, then extended her hand.
Sheriff Gray stood and shook her hand. “You’re representing