Afraid to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

Sitting on the foot of the bed in his motel room, O’Keefe hated that he had to break the news to Aggie, especially when it wasn’t yet confirmed. Then again, they were running out of time and he had to use every avenue possible when trying to locate the kid. He wished he had the kid’s cell phone or computer or, at the very least, records of Gabe’s activity, but the police in Helena had confiscated all of his property. “It could be that Gabe’s biological mother is in Grizzly Falls.”

“What? Oh my God! That’s why you’re there? Holy shit!” She, who rarely swore, was obviously flustered. Beyond flustered. Maybe closing in on panicking. “I don’t understand. Our attorney said the mother had been living in some little obscure town in the Pacific Northwest. I figured he was talking about a suburb or rural area around Seattle somewhere, but, like I said, I didn’t want to know.”

“People move.”

“Closer to their long-lost kids to reconnect!” she said, on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Slow down, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Dylan?”

“I’m not sure; still trying to sort it out. This could be a mistake, so just calm down, okay.”

“That’s pretty damned hard, considering.”

“I know, I know, but the important thing is that I locate Gabe.”

“Is he with this woman? This mother who gave him up and hasn’t seen him in sixteen years?” she demanded, her voice still trembling, as if she were close to hysteria. “Oh, God, and the father, is he involved, too? This is terrible. Oh, my God, Dylan, what the hell is going on?”

“No. It’s not like that. No one’s involved in anything that I know of. I was close to Gabe, he eluded me, and he broke into a house, then took off.”

“So that was Gabe. What the hell is he thinking? Dave and I, we saw something about this on the news, but the reporter didn’t have a name, of course, as he’s underage. For the love of God, why is he running?”

“Because he’s scared. Look, if you can find out any more information about the adoption, his biological parents, the dad as well, it might help. Then again, it could all be nothing.”

“I just want my son back,” Aggie whispered, calmer now.

?

?That’s what I’m trying to do. Find him and bring him home.”

“Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Gabe’s a good kid. Really. This ... this is all a horrible mistake.” She sniffed loudly and then said something unintelligible.

“Dylan?” Dave said, his voice booming through the phone. “We’ll do whatever we can on this end, okay? Just keep us informed.”

“Will do.” O’Keefe hung up and felt like crap. The kid had been within his grasp and now had disappeared. Every day he wasn’t found, it was more likely he wouldn’t be.

He considered calling Alvarez, but waited. Surely she would let him know if she found out anything. Or would she? The fact that she might be the runaway’s mother complicated things.

Oh, hell, who was he kidding? Anything having to do with Alvarez complicated things. At least as far as he was concerned. To say his feelings were conflicted when he thought of her might just be the understatement of the decade.

Disturbed, his thoughts swirling with images of the woman who inspired way too much passion in him, he shrugged into his jacket and dropped the phone into a pocket, then grabbed his pistol from the drawer of the night table.

He had work to do. And, yes, it involved dealing with Selena Alvarez, whether he liked it or not.

And he didn’t.

Or, he thought cynically as he locked the door of his motel room behind him and turned his collar against the bitter cold, maybe he’d been lying to himself all along.

“What in the Sam Hill’s name is going on? Why weren’t we told about this?” Grayson demanded. Flanked by Alvarez and Pescoli, he stood in front of the television mounted on the wall of the conference room.

On the screen, Ray Sutherland was standing in the parking lot of his apartment complex. His kids were with him and he’d placed an arm around each of his half-grown sons. The boys were somber, even shell-shocked, looking as if they would rather be anywhere than on camera. Snow was collecting on the bills of their baseball caps and the shoulders of their oversized jackets, and neither boy would look directly into the camera’s eye. Unlike their father. Ray stared straight into the lens. Behind him, through a curtain of falling snow, were several parked cars, each covered in three inches of fluff, and the front of the apartment building where he resided.

“No one knew it was happening,” Pescoli said.

“Why the hell not?”

“Don’t know,” Alvarez said.