their version of the Olympic Games. Grandma Alexandra would speak in her native tongue, and the grandchildren attempted to interpret, Colton being the judge. Since it was “all Greek to me,” Lincoln and I settled up front.
“What are you reading, Darcy?” he murmured. I’d pored over the copy of the Cisco Medina story for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, I’m surprised it took him so long to ask. But all I could think was I’d jumped out of the frying pan into the proverbial fire. Troy was probably giddy with what he expected to be front-page news when I remained thousands of feet in the air … a big, fat lying idiot.
Nudging the paper over, I painted on my concerned citizen face. “The article said he simply vanished. Who do you think did it?”
Pulling reading glasses from his pocket-T, he slid them on his nose then took his finger and speed-read down the page. Lincoln looked scary to the average person. His holster may say he carried a gun, but the bulge of his hands said he’d rather shove an M80 up your fill-in-the-blank.
“Most abduction cases are the other parent,” he murmured, “but the article said they were cleared.” Not according to Troy , I thought. Troy acted like momma might know something she wanted to remain underground. “That leaves psychopaths and predators. It’s not a pretty picture.”
Recalling that no ransom had ever been paid, I agreed the outlook for this little boy appeared grim. If, in fact, he was living, it wasn’t for money that the abductor could collect. A plea would’ve already been made, and one would think reported on. I twirled a tendril of my hair as I digested what little information I did have, and that was Lola Medina.
“Where would you look?” I asked.
“The places I’m sure they already have. When you exhaust yourself on the ground, if it were me, I’d keep plugging away on what didn’t feel right. Why the curiosity?”
Honestly? I didn’t know. Call me a concerned citizen; call me an older sibling of a six-year-old nudist. Either way, my laundry list of reasons boiled down to one thing: boredom. Boredom and my hound dog nose sniffed ridiculously along the trail. Did I have the skills to get this done? That remained to be seen. Sure, I’d solved who killed three people in Valley, but the difference there was my personal involvement. With this, I wasn’t even remotely involved. Heck, I wasn’t even in the same hometown.
But I would be.
“I guess my heart breaks for little kids,” I explained. “If you were coming in blind, where would you start?”
He shaved a hand down over his day-old beard, deep in thought. “I’d start with the people that knew your routine … your neighbors. I’d ask whom he liked to play with, what he liked to play, what he always had in his possession, if he had any enemies. The person that nabbed him might’ve been someone that had their eye on him for a while or simply might’ve been an opportunist. I’d retrace his steps.”
I briefly wondered why someone would hurt a child. Why do some allow their humanity to drain away? In a perfect world, you were supposed to protect children, clear the obstacles, give them the chances you never had; tell them they could do anything— be anything—even if odds and talent were stacked against them.
But it wasn’t a perfect world … that BS slapping me in the face every day.
5. PONKEYS
W HEN YOU’RE HYPER, YOU HAVE a tendency to feel caged in. This happened to be one of those times, and being in a jet right before landing didn’t help matters. Most people feared the lift-off … not me. The landing left me scared-stiff and blowing chunks. What if you never got to your final destination? Talk about disappointing. You went on vacation to have fun; at least, you hoped the dang plane crashed on the way back.
I forced myself to relax, breathe deep, and search for something to occupy my mind.
Lincoln had pushed out of his seat to visit the restroom, leaving
“What are you reading, Darcy?” he murmured. I’d pored over the copy of the Cisco Medina story for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, I’m surprised it took him so long to ask. But all I could think was I’d jumped out of the frying pan into the proverbial fire. Troy was probably giddy with what he expected to be front-page news when I remained thousands of feet in the air … a big, fat lying idiot.
Nudging the paper over, I painted on my concerned citizen face. “The article said he simply vanished. Who do you think did it?”
Pulling reading glasses from his pocket-T, he slid them on his nose then took his finger and speed-read down the page. Lincoln looked scary to the average person. His holster may say he carried a gun, but the bulge of his hands said he’d rather shove an M80 up your fill-in-the-blank.
“Most abduction cases are the other parent,” he murmured, “but the article said they were cleared.” Not according to Troy , I thought. Troy acted like momma might know something she wanted to remain underground. “That leaves psychopaths and predators. It’s not a pretty picture.”
Recalling that no ransom had ever been paid, I agreed the outlook for this little boy appeared grim. If, in fact, he was living, it wasn’t for money that the abductor could collect. A plea would’ve already been made, and one would think reported on. I twirled a tendril of my hair as I digested what little information I did have, and that was Lola Medina.
“Where would you look?” I asked.
“The places I’m sure they already have. When you exhaust yourself on the ground, if it were me, I’d keep plugging away on what didn’t feel right. Why the curiosity?”
Honestly? I didn’t know. Call me a concerned citizen; call me an older sibling of a six-year-old nudist. Either way, my laundry list of reasons boiled down to one thing: boredom. Boredom and my hound dog nose sniffed ridiculously along the trail. Did I have the skills to get this done? That remained to be seen. Sure, I’d solved who killed three people in Valley, but the difference there was my personal involvement. With this, I wasn’t even remotely involved. Heck, I wasn’t even in the same hometown.
But I would be.
“I guess my heart breaks for little kids,” I explained. “If you were coming in blind, where would you start?”
He shaved a hand down over his day-old beard, deep in thought. “I’d start with the people that knew your routine … your neighbors. I’d ask whom he liked to play with, what he liked to play, what he always had in his possession, if he had any enemies. The person that nabbed him might’ve been someone that had their eye on him for a while or simply might’ve been an opportunist. I’d retrace his steps.”
I briefly wondered why someone would hurt a child. Why do some allow their humanity to drain away? In a perfect world, you were supposed to protect children, clear the obstacles, give them the chances you never had; tell them they could do anything— be anything—even if odds and talent were stacked against them.
But it wasn’t a perfect world … that BS slapping me in the face every day.
5. PONKEYS
W HEN YOU’RE HYPER, YOU HAVE a tendency to feel caged in. This happened to be one of those times, and being in a jet right before landing didn’t help matters. Most people feared the lift-off … not me. The landing left me scared-stiff and blowing chunks. What if you never got to your final destination? Talk about disappointing. You went on vacation to have fun; at least, you hoped the dang plane crashed on the way back.
I forced myself to relax, breathe deep, and search for something to occupy my mind.
Lincoln had pushed out of his seat to visit the restroom, leaving
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