The Way Home by Jean Brashear

“No one who meets you could possibly doubt that you have enough love in you for the whole world.”
    “You, too,” she murmured into his ear. “You’ve loved me so well and been so patient with me, even through—”
    He shook his head and silenced her with a kiss. “I’ve done nothing but try to deserve you.” His eyes grew moist. “You are everything, Bella. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
    “I love you so much, James. Oceans deep. Wide as the sky.”
    “We’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”
     
    S O YOUNG AND SO BRASH , to believe that he could make the vow, that merely speaking it was enough.
    To hold such riches in his hand and manage to lose them and never even notice they were gone—
    Until the love of his life walked out the door.
    The phone rang, and he leaped for it. His shoulders sagged as he saw his son’s number displayed. Bella was so real in his mind that he’d expected it to be her.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey, Dad. I got my instrument rating today.”
    Cameron’s excitement zipped through the lines. “That’s great, son. That’s absolutely terrific. Your mother—” He pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to continue. “She’ll be proud, Cam. Really proud.”
    “Does that mean…”
    James realized his mistake. “No.” He let out his breath in a sigh. “I don’t know anything.” Damn it.
    “Why can’t the police do something?” For an instant, Cam was a boy, frightened and angry.
    “Because she left on her own. For all they know, she’s sitting on a beach somewhere.”
    “What about you, Dad? Where do you think she is?” A pause. “Why did she go, Dad? This isn’t like her.”
    He didn’t want to have this conversation. “Cam—”
    Just then, the doorbell rang. “Hang on a second, son.” He descended the stairs and saw a man in a suit and a uniformed officer waiting. “Cam, I’ll have to call you back. Someone’s at the door.”
    “Who?”
    His heart sped as he registered the grim expressions on the two men’s faces. Whatever this was, he would spare his children as long as possible. “Just a neighbor. I’ll talk to you in a little while, okay?” He gripped the knob, reluctant to open the door until Cam was safely away.
    “All right, Dad. Bye.”
    “Goodbye, son.” But he didn’t click off until after Cameron was gone, feeling an odd need for the connection.
    Then he opened the door.
    “James Parker?”
    “Yes?”
    “I’m Detective Gordon, and this is Officer Hunt. May we come inside?”
    His chest filled with a sense of doom. “Is this about my wife? Is she all right?” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, steeling himself for the response.
    “Let’s sit down, Mr. Parker.”
    “No.” He met the man’s gaze. “Tell me now. Don’t string it out. Is she—” He could not say the words.
    “We don’t know where your wife is, Mr. Parker.”
    “Then why—”
    “Her car was discovered in Idaho during a raid on a chop shop.”
    “Chop shop?” He shook his head. “Idaho?”
    “A chop shop is where stolen cars, especially luxury cars like your wife’s BMW, are transported to be disassembled for parts.”
    “But where’s Bella? And how did her car get to Idaho?” He confronted the detective. “Now will someone take me seriously when I say that something has happened to her?”
    “We have to, after what else was found.”
    “What?” His throat was tight with fear.
    “Bloodstains on the upholstery.”
    “Blood,” he repeated dully. “Oh, God.” He grabbed the man’s arm. “I’m going to Idaho.” He glanced around frantically. “I’ll book a flight and—”
    “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mr. Parker.”
    “Why not? I have to go to her. I have to help—”
    “We need you to hang around and answer some questions, sir.”
    Something in the man’s tone wrenched James from his feverish planning. “Hang around?”
    “If the bloodstains match your wife’s type, the FBI will be called in, and