“Yes. Or that. I’m hoping he didn’t.”
“Maybe Lance will find something.” Clay and Lance had gotten in minor trouble together as teens. He found it ironic they were now cops for the same town they used to want to escape from. “Keep me updated. I want to know why Jordan was in Prescott’s trailer with Steven’s wallet.”
“Trust me, we all want to know that.” Papers shuffled. “I did get one piece of information. Jordan is good friends with a fellow named Trey Wilde.”
“I don’t know him.”
“Stay around here long enough, and you will. His family moved here shortly after you left.” He paused. “He reminds me of you in some ways at that age. Tough as nails, out to conquer the world, but with a wild streak a mile long. It’s like he’s trying to live up to his last name.”
Clay couldn’t help the small grimace at Ned’s words. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind when I run into him.”
“Only thing about Trey is he’s got money. And lots of it.”
“So he’s getting in trouble because...?”
“Who knows? I’ve talked with him a few times, but he doesn’t seem to hear it. His daddy bails him out of trouble every time and Trey goes on his way to find more trouble.” Ned sighed. “Anyway, I’ll send someone to bring him in and see if he’ll give us anything on Jordan. Be careful.”
“Yeah.” They hung up, and Clay turned to find Sabrina behind him looking at her phone. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m just answering my boss.” She finished the text and looked up with a shiver. “I’ve never had a day like today, but I think I’m okay. I’m definitely grateful no one’s hurt, but I’m worried about Jordan.”
Clay had the overwhelming urge to pull her into a hug and reassure her. He resisted and curled his fingers into fists. “All right, then. I’ve got a report to write. Do you need anything else?”
“No. Not tonight. Once we’re finished here, I’ll be taking the children to your parents’ house.”
Clay froze. “What?”
Sabrina lifted an eyebrow. “They’re going to your parents’.”
“Why would you take them there?”
She blinked. “Because they’re the only foster family that has room for two kids right now.”
Clay was stunned. He finally found his tongue. “I’ve been home four weeks, and my parents haven’t said a word about being a foster home. When did they decide to do this?”
“They were cleared to foster just before Steven was killed. Maria and Tony Zellis will be their first kids.”
Before he could respond, Dr. Gina Myers stepped from the room, leaving the door cracked so she could keep an eye on the children while she talked to Sabrina. “We’re just waiting on some results from the tests, but I don’t expect any surprises. I’m going to go ahead and release them so you can get them into a bed somewhere.” She peeked through the crack. “Maria’s sound asleep. I raised the rail on the bed so she won’t fall if she rolls. Tony’s lying next to her but is still awake.” She handed Sabrina the discharge papers and shrugged. “Overall, other than needing three good meals a day, they’re pretty healthy kids. I’m pleasantly surprised.”
Sabrina nodded. “Good. I’ll take care of them from here.”
Clay rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I talked to Ned.”
Hope flared in her expression. “Have they found Jordan?”
“No. Not yet. They will. And no sign of Stan Prescott either, but Ned’s got someone watching his trailer and will nab him when he shows his face. But he did get the name of one of Jordan’s friends.”
“Who?”
“A guy by the name of Trey Wilde.”
Sabrina frowned.
Clay raised a brow. “I take it you know him?”
“Yes. And while I never think a kid is beyond hope, I would say he’s pretty borderline.”
“What about Jordan?”
“There’s hope for Jordan. He’s got a good heart—as evidenced by the fact that he thought his siblings were in trouble and tried to lead that person away from them.” She sighed. “He just needs direction, a man in his life who would take an interest and teach him.”
Clay nodded. “Well, since you’re heading my way, you want some help getting the kids in the car?”
“That would be great.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, the kids were buckled in. Maria never opened her eyes. Tony leaned his head against the window, and Sabrina figured he’d be asleep by the time they arrived at the Starke ranch.
Sabrina pulled behind Clay and let him lead the way. As she drove, she prayed, thanking God for sparing all of them from Stan’s craziness. Getting shot at, then having a gun held on her had been terrifying. Not just for herself but for the children. She thought it amazing that no one had been hurt and easily gave God the credit for that.
Sabrina pushed her Bluetooth device into her ear and dialed her grandmother’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Granny May.”
“Sabrina, where are you, my girl?”
“I’m taking two children out to a foster home. It might be a while before I get home, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
Granny May had just turned seventy-two but had more energy than anyone Sabrina had ever met. She ran her bed-and-breakfast with a tender heart and a shrewd business mind. “I always worry about you when you’re off on one of your assignments.”
Sabrina didn’t bother telling her grandmother she’d had every cause to worry on this one. “Don’t worry. Just pray.”
“All the time.” A pause. “What am I praying for?”
“The children, Granny May.” Sabrina thought about it. “And a prayer that Steven’s murderer will be found.” And that I’m just overreacting in thinking that I could possibly be a target.
“What are you mixed up in, Sabrina?” Granny May’s sharp ears hadn’t missed the new note in Sabrina’s voice. She frowned.
“I’m mixed up in these kids’ lives—you know that. I’ll tell you about it soon, but extra prayers wouldn’t hurt.”
“’Course they wouldn’t. I’ll get right to it.”
“See you in an hour or so.” It got dark early these days. Not even five-thirty and already the sun rode low on the horizon. She hung up and followed Clay when he turned onto a gravel drive. They drove for about a half a mile before he pulled to a stop in front of a large two-story brick home with white columns and a front porch full of rocking chairs. Multicolored lights twinkled around the perimeter of the roof of the porch. They wrapped around the columns barbershop-style. Electric candles burned in the windows, and a large Christmas tree lit up the front window.
This was where Clay had grown up. How had he ever left? She’d heard about the farm, of course, and knew where he lived but had never set foot on the property. She’d never had a reason to. And had had every reason to avoid it.
She stepped out of the car and the front door opened. A woman in her mid-fifties was followed by a man about the same age. Both looked excited and nervous at the same time. Maria and Tony would be their first experience with fostering. Sabrina sent up a quick prayer that it would be a good one.
“Clay,