Frank Sullivan was a nice man. A stockbroker who made good money. A man who had expressed interest in Jesse and coached the kid’s baseball team when he had no children of his own. He supported her career and lived close by, so that he could provide more of a stable influence on Jesse. After all, Jesse was growing up. He needed a man in his life. One he could count on.
One who didn’t disappear for weeks at a time, put his life on the line constantly. One who came home at night.
“Bec?”
She spread her hands in her lap. “What is it, Ethan?”
“Can I see Jesse later?”
Her heart twisted, and she clutched Ethan’s hand. “Of course you can. Jesse is your son. He loves you.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t intend to let him forget me.”
“I know that,” Rebecca said softly. “And I would never let that happen, either.” She squeezed his arm. God, this was harder than she’d imagined. “No one can ever replace you in his life, Ethan.” Or in my heart.
But she had to give Frank Sullivan a chance.
“Thank you for saying that.” He rubbed her hand gently. He used to do that, then he’d lift her fingers and kiss them. Then she would melt in his arms.
She couldn’t let it go that far today, or she’d never be able to sign these divorce papers. And even if they did kiss or make love, their lifestyles wouldn’t change.
“It wasn’t all bad, was it?” he asked quietly.
She smiled and shook her head. “No, Ethan. We had some wonderful times, some great memories. But reliving them…it’s just too painful.”
“The last thing I want is to hurt you,” Ethan said quietly.
Her gaze met his. “I know that, Ethan.”
“Right.” He released her hand and scrubbed his through his short military-cut hair. “Well, then, why procrastinate any longer?”
He handed her the pen and gestured for her to go first. Her insides trembled, but she sat down and zeroed in on the lines where they were supposed to sign their names. How ironic, she thought. After so much love and time together, so many memories and promises, all they had to do to dissolve their marriage and erase the past was scribble their signatures on the dotted line.
She inhaled a deep breath, and pressed the tip of the pen down, when the door suddenly burst open.
“Miss Rebecca! Miss Rebecca!” Jesse’s nanny stumbled into the salon, waving her arms, looking harried.
Rebecca frowned. “What is it, DeeDee?”
“Miss Rebecca,” DeeDee sobbed. “Oh, my God, my God, my God. It’s Jesse!”
Rebecca shot to her feet, her heart pounding as she searched behind the woman for her son. “Where is he, DeeDee? What’s happened?”
Ethan lurched toward DeeDee, grabbed her by the arms and shook her gently. “What’s wrong? Is Jesse hurt? Did he have an accident?”
DeeDee’s face crumpled and tears streaked her pale cheeks. “No, he’s…missing,” she sobbed. “I turned my back for just a minute, and he was gone!”
Missing…gone… The room spun.
“Where were you?” Ethan barked.
“At Frog Pond,” DeeDee cried. “Miss Rebecca, she told me to take Jesse wading, and so I did. He was so excited. And there were other kids there, so many. They were laughing and playing chase at the edge of the water and he joined in.” She heaved a breath. “Then suddenly he disappeared. I searched everywhere, I yelled for him, but he was nowhere! Miss Rebecca, I’m so sorry…”
Rebecca swayed and reached for something to hold on to. Jesse was missing. “No…”
Black dots danced before her eyes just before the world went dark. She felt herself spiraling, floating, the shock clawing at her as she collapsed against Ethan.
ETHAN CAUGHT REBECCA, HIS OWN heart pounding with fear. His son, his five-year-old little boy, was missing. Had he wandered through the crowd and gotten lost, or had he been kidnapped?
He helped Rebecca to a sofa and settled her onto the cushions. “Rebecca?”
“Ethan—”
“Hang on, sweetheart. I’m here.”
A gut-wrenching cry rose from deep in her throat. “Jesse?”
“We’ll find him, I promise.” Even as he muttered the assurance, a dozen terrifying scenarios raced through his mind. Jesse being kidnapped by an ax murderer. Or a pedophile. Christ, no, please no…
His knees buckled and he fought for a breath. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t let Rebecca jump onto that horrifying, runaway train of thought, either.
Time was of the essence. If Jesse had been abducted, he was getting farther and farther away by the minute. He had to call the police.
He reached for his cell phone, then halted. He’d seen enough cases to know that kidnappers always warned against calling the cops. They usually wanted money.
Money—he had lots of it. That was the reason they’d taken Jesse.
He’d give them whatever they asked for, just as long as they didn’t hurt his son.
He turned to DeeDee, who had slumped into the nearest wingback chair, crying into her hands.
He had to stop thinking like a father and think like a detective. But Jesse was his son. How could he not think like a father? “DeeDee, did you call for help at the pond?”
She nodded. “I told people all around me and they looked, too. Then this lady said she thought she saw Jesse walking away with a man.”
He punched in the number for his Eclipse contact, Dana Whitley, the only civilian who knew about its existence. A secretary for the Pentagon by day, she clandestinely coordinated Eclipse and could accomplish anything.
Ethan explained the situation. “My son has been kidnapped. I need people now to search the area surrounding Frog Pond. This has to be discreet. I don’t want it to look like I’ve called the cops. The kidnapper might be watching.”
Rebecca shuddered next to him, and he hung up and squeezed her hands. “Bec, listen, we have to go back to my place. If a kidnapper took him and wants a ransom, he might call me there.”
“What about the police?”
“Let’s go to my place first. If there’s no call or note, then we’ll phone it in.”
Rebecca latched on to his hand and dragged herself to a sitting position. “But, Ethan, they can search the streets, the highways. Issue an Amber alert—”
Ethan glanced at his phone in a panic and willed the infuriating thing to ring. He wanted that call, dammit. Wanted to know who had his son and why. “Trust me. My team is on it. They’ll cover the streets better than the cops. We have connections, Bec.”
He flipped on the handset and noticed a text message waiting. He’d been so busy last night during the blackout he’d finally shut down his phone and ignored any messages.
He checked it now.
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
His blood ran cold. The cryptic message struck a nerve. It had something to do with Jesse’s kidnapper. He knew it in his gut.
Fear choked him.
If he hadn’t ignored the message last night, maybe he could have prevented his son from being abducted.
FINN SMILED TO HIMSELF AS HE drove the dark