“At first, I insisted that we keep everything in storage, just in case... I ended up donating all her belongings to charity.” He turned back to her. “I’m sorry. That was probably more information than you wanted.”
“No. That’s okay,” she told him, her own voice not quite steady.
“The police looked at me as a suspect in her disappearance,” he said.
Shannon could see in his eyes—more brown than green now—the torment that still caused him.
“I know they’re looking at me now in Dylan’s disappearance, too.” He made a sound of frustration. “Maybe I’m even the prime suspect because it’s the second time a member of my family disappeared.”
Shannon opened her mouth but had no response, because his assumption was correct.
He held up a hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Intellectually, I know the odds and I can’t argue with it. Emotionally? It’s a different matter. Most importantly, they’re spending valuable resources eliminating me as a suspect. I’d like them to get on with it and clear me, so they can focus all their energies on finding Dylan and determining who is responsible.” His voice faltered and he lowered his gaze.
“You can’t give up hope,” Shannon said, more sharply than she’d intended.
Sawyer’s eyes, when he raised them, were dark and gleaming. “My question about your parents. When they did hear... How does a parent handle that? I...I don’t know if I could.”
His voice faltered on the final words. It was more than Shannon could tolerate. She rose and sat on the chair next to him and laid her hands on his shoulders. “You have to stay positive,” she implored.
He stiffened for a moment, then lowered his forehead against hers.
Not knowing what else to do, she closed her eyes and rubbed his back, much as she would to comfort a child. She felt a connection to him, but it was so fleeting she wondered if she’d imagined it.
He straightened and raked his hair back, while Shannon returned to her own side of the table.
“I’m sorry about dumping all of that on you.” He seemed to take in his surroundings, as if he’d only now recognized that he was sitting in a public place. His gaze returned to Shannon and she felt that link with him again.
A moment later, he broke eye contact. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re doing.” His eyes softened. “I really do.” He stood and regarded her with sad eyes. “My life is shambles right now. I don’t know how to do something normal like have coffee and a conversation. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
SHANNON FELT BAFFLED and unsettled as she drove away from the coffee shop. With the resources available to the SDPD, combined with the expertise of the FBI, they had to be able to find Dylan and return him to his father. What was the point of being a police officer, if you couldn’t help in situations like this?
She checked her rearview mirror, signaled and made a quick U-turn. It was her day off, but she wanted to see Logan.
There had to be something she could do.
“Do you have a minute?” Shannon asked from the doorway of Logan’s office.
His surprise at seeing her was evident, but he gestured for her to enter and have a seat. “What’re you doing here today?” he asked.
Shannon noticed a loose thread at the hem of her shirt and fidgeted with it. When she glanced up, Logan was watching her intently. She wondered if she’d made two colossal mistakes in the same day, but there was no taking back her meeting with Sawyer and no avoiding her discussion with Logan. “I know I’m not on the Dylan Evans case, but I was wondering if there’s anything new with the search.”
“Nothing of substance. Are you asking because of Charlie?”
“No,” she whispered.
Logan pushed back in his chair and rested one ankle on the opposite knee. “We’ve already established that the missing boy hits close to home for you. You need to be honest with me.”
“This isn’t about Charlie,” she asserted. “Or not entirely. I... I’m concerned about Dylan. He’s been missing for over two days. That’s not a good sign.”
Logan tapped his fingers on his thigh. “You’re right. It’s not. But we’re doing everything we can to find him.”
She nodded. “If Darwin and I had gotten there faster, maybe...”
Logan rose, moved around his desk and sat down in the chair beside Shannon’s. “You know better than that. You’ve been here long enough and you’ve had enough training to appreciate that based on Darwin’s reaction, whoever took the boy was at least an hour and a half ahead of you.”
She felt the tears stinging her eyes and was horrified to think that she’d embarrass herself by crying in front of her captain again. She lowered her gaze. “I can’t help feeling I failed.”
Logan leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, forcing her to make eye contact. “You did everything by the book.”
By the book maybe, but could she have done more? She was afraid to say anything, since her emotions were a maelstrom, rioting just under the surface and threatening to break free. She pressed her lips together and glanced away.
“Shannon, I need you to be the very best officer you can be. It would be counterproductive for me to tell you that you did well if that wasn’t the case. Look at me,” he instructed, drawing her attention back to him.
“I’m deeply sorry about what happened to your brother. This is the last time I’ll say this, but you should’ve told me about him. I want you to understand why. No one would be unaffected by a child’s disappearance. For you, those feelings are compounded and could—I’m not saying they did—but they could impact your performance. Don’t keep salient facts from me again. Are we clear?”
“Yes. So noted,” she managed. “Is there anything wrong with me monitoring what’s happening with the case?”
“Not from the department’s perspective.” Logan sighed. “On a personal basis, I can’t see that it’s good for you. I’ll leave it to your judgment.”
“Thank you.”
Logan got to his feet. “Go home. Try to put it aside.” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before moving behind his desk again.
Shannon walked out of Logan’s office, knowing that what he asked of her would be impossible. And she knew there was no way Sawyer could put it aside for even a heartbeat.
* * *
SHANNON HAD JUST returned from a long walk with Darwin when her personal cell phone rang. It was Sawyer.
“I’m sorry I left you at the coffee shop the way I did,” he said. “Especially after you were kind enough to get in touch with me. I can’t seem to say or do anything right these days.”
“That’s okay.” Nobody could expect him to think clearly with what he was going through.
“I just want you to know that it matters to me that you care,” Sawyer continued. “It gives me hope that it’s not just you, but that everyone who’s