Home to Stay by Kate James


  Despite the passage of time—more than four hours—and the dozens of kids and adults who must have traversed the area, Darwin recognized and isolated Dylan’s scent. Two local officers were instructed to accompany them. They jogged along the perimeter of the park, until Darwin turned sharp left toward a densely-treed area. Focused on Darwin, Shannon didn’t notice the low-hanging branch. She certainly felt the sting when it slapped her in the face. Without slowing, she touched a hand to the sore spot. The tips of her fingers came away damp with blood.

  She’d worry about it later.

  They left the park and crossed a street. Unerringly, Darwin led them to a low-rise apartment building. They assumed Dylan was inside the building, but they didn’t know which floor. They’d have to check each corridor. Another unknown was whether the woman was alone with Dylan or not.

  They needed a game plan so as not to alert whoever was with Dylan. If she felt trapped, they didn’t want her lashing out at the boy and possibly hurting him. There were no security cameras for the building that they could discern. One of the locals, Officer Robbins, contacted the resident building manager.

  “I don’t make a habit of watching the comings and goings of the building occupants,” he declared. “I don’t know if this helps, but we have a new short-term sublet for apartment 108.”

  They’d check the unit. If Darwin could follow the scent, he’d provide probable cause for entry.

  While Robbins called in an update to Anson, she and the other officer discussed how best to proceed. As they spoke, he handed her a handkerchief to wipe off the now mostly dry blood from her cheek.

  “Thanks,” she said and dabbed at the scratch.

  Concluding his call, Robbins rejoined them. “Anson, Bigelow and Special Agent Leary are on their way. We’ve got authorization to proceed.”

  Shannon instructed Darwin to “find” and he nearly pulled her off her feet. Rather than entering the building through the front door as she’d expected, he streaked off to the right. He followed the chain-link fence surrounding a grassy area adjacent to the building. When he reached a gate, he repeatedly jumped up against it. Shannon directed Darwin to settle and turned to the uniformed officer who’d accompanied her.

  “Dylan is either back there or he recently passed through this gate. Could you hold Darwin for a minute?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said, but with a bit of apprehension.

  “You’ll be fine. Stay,” she instructed Darwin as she handed off his leash.

  She moved cautiously along the fence until she could see the back patios of the units, separated by wooden partitions. She peered around the corner and her heart rate spiked.

  A young boy was sitting cross-legged on the grass, a stuffed brown kangaroo in front of him. It had to be Dylan.

  There was no one else on the patio. A sliding glass door was open, sheers billowing out in the breeze. She heard the clatter of pots and pans inside.

  She moved quickly back to where the other officer was waiting. She had Darwin “down-stay” near a lamppost and looped his lead around its base. Robbins radioed that he was in position at the inside entrance to the apartment. Robbins was going in through the front door; Shannon’s job was to get Dylan and keep him safe. The officer accompanying her would prevent anyone from escaping through the patio door.

  Shannon gave the go-ahead, opened the gate and ran straight to Dylan, the other officer right behind her.

  “Dylan, don’t be afraid. I’m with the police and I’m taking you home to your father.” She saw wide-eyed surprise and confusion, but thankfully no tears as she gathered the boy in her arms.

  “Joey,” he squealed and pointed to his stuffed kangaroo. “Joey!”

  “Okay, okay,” she reassured him, and bent down to pick up the toy.

  Hearing the commotion inside, she held the boy tight against her and sprinted toward the gate.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SHANNON WAS BARELY through the gate when she saw two police cars pull up at the curb. Sergeant Anson was the first one out of the cruiser, followed by FBI Special Agent Gavin Leary. Bigelow got out of his own SDPD vehicle and started toward Shannon.

  When Dylan began to whimper, she put him down. Holding up a hand to keep Bigelow from approaching, she crouched in front of Dylan.

  “Is this Joey?” she murmured, trying to distract him.

  “Uh-huh,” he said with a sniffle.

  “I bet Joey is a little scared, huh?”

  Dylan nodded.

  “Do you know what I think would help Joey?”

  “Uh-uh?”

  “Because he loves you so much, I bet it would help if you showed him how brave you are, and told him you’ll both be seeing your dad in a couple of hours.”

  Dylan raised his eyes, huge and round, to meet Shannon’s.

  “Can you do that? Show Joey how brave you are?”

  His lips trembled, but he whispered, “Yes.” When Shannon saw Bigelow advancing toward them again, she gave him a steely look and a slight shake of her head. Bigelow changed direction and joined the officer standing close to Darwin. Her gaze resting on Darwin, Shannon had an idea.

  “Dylan, do you like dogs?”

  He nodded again and held his stuffed toy out toward her. “Joey’s a kangaroo. I like kangaroos, too.”

  “I can see that. Would you like to meet my dog?” she asked, pointing at Darwin.

  “’Kay.” He took a moment to assess the dog. “He’s big.”

  “Yes, he is, but he’s gentle, too.”

  “He’s pretty.” Dylan’s eyes rounded. “Is he a police dog?”

  “Yes, he is,” she repeated. “Would you like to say hello?”

  He nodded with more enthusiasm this time.

  She rose and held out her hand for him. She felt an odd flutter when he placed his small one in hers and clung tight.

  She led Dylan over to Darwin, introduced him to Bigelow and the officer, and then to her dog.

  “Can you and Joey stay here for a minute with Darwin and Officer Martin?”

  Dylan looked up at the officer and hugged Joey tighter. “’Kay.”

  As she and Bigelow walked to where Anson and Leary stood, she sent a quick text to Sawyer, telling him that Dylan was with her, safe and unharmed. He’d hear soon enough through the proper police channels, but if she could save him a single minute of worry, it was worth it.

  His reply was immediate.

  Thank God.

  Thank you for letting me know.

  All Shannon wanted to do now was get Dylan home to his father with as little additional trauma as possible. She had a brief discussion with Bigelow, Leary and Anson. They agreed it was best if she traveled with the boy. They’d take her Explorer, and Robbins would drive so she could stay with the boy. Martin would follow in another cruiser to bring Robbins back.

  Once they settled on the logistics, she hurried back to Dylan. He was squatting in front of Darwin, stroking him.

  She bent down beside them. “Ready to go home?”

  “To Daddy?” he asked in a subdued voice.

  “Yes.”

  His lower lip quivered and Shannon sensed he was about to start crying. “You’ll get to ride in a police car, and Darwin and I will be right there with you. Is that okay?”

  He nodded, and her heart melted when he wrapped his arms around her neck, Joey dangling from one hand. She lifted him up. Unhooking Darwin’s lead from around the lamppost, she signaled for him to “heel,” and carried Dylan to her Explorer. When they reached her vehicle, she tried to put Dylan down, but he refused to let go. With the boy still in her arms, she opened the hatch and instructed Darwin to hop in.

  That made Dylan smile. “He jumped so high!”

  Robbins headed for the driver’s side of the E
xplorer while she placed Dylan in the backseat. Climbing in after him, she fastened his seat belt.

  She tried to do everything she could to distract him and keep him happy during the drive to San Diego.

  As they sped along I-405 South, she pointed out landmarks and scenic areas, but she was careful to avoid any discussion of where he’d been and who he’d been with. Victim Services cautioned officers not to get into any of the details with victims of abduction until they’d been professionally assessed. The fear was that it could bring back all the bad memories and trigger post-traumatic stress. “How’s Joey doing?” she asked instead, hoping to get an indication of how Dylan himself was holding up.

  “He’s okay, I guess.” Dylan seemed preoccupied with his toy for a few minutes. “See, Joey has a pouch and everything!” he exclaimed suddenly, pointing to the pocket on the toy’s belly. “That’s where the mama kangaroos keep their babies,” he informed her solemnly.

  At one point, he touched her face. “You’re hurt,” he said softly, concern clouding his eyes.

  “I’m okay,” she assured him, and wished she’d thought to put a bandage on her scratch.

  As Dylan fell silent again, Shannon watched him out of the corner of her eye. The only outward sign of his distress was how tightly he clutched his stuffed toy, and—when she wasn’t distracting him—the way he rocked back and forth. Eventually, Shannon let Dylan set the tone to talk or not, as he wished. He asked about his father, but he also asked about the woman who’d been in the apartment with him. Shannon made a mental note to tell Biglow and Leary that he called her “tía,” Spanish for aunt.

  Dylan didn’t say much about what had happened to him, but he did clear up the question of how he’d been taken. He’d gone outside the tent to pee, and a woman had grabbed him before he could do anything. The woman had immediately covered his mouth so he couldn’t call out.

  During the entire trip home, he didn’t let go of his toy.

  After nearly two and a half hours, they finally turned onto Sawyer’s street. Sawyer and his family were sitting outside on his front porch. As soon as he noticed the police vehicles, he rushed toward the road and was waiting by the curb as they pulled up.

  Dylan cried out when he saw his father, and Shannon had to hold him back from trying to jump out until the vehicle had come to a full stop. For the first time, he released Joey, abandoning the toy on the seat next to Shannon.

  Shannon could feel the sting of tears in her eyes as she watched Dylan fling himself into his father’s outstretched arms.

  “Thank God. Thank God you’re okay,” Sawyer muttered.

  With his head resting on top of Dylan’s, Sawyer took deep, gulping breaths. When he eased back, he framed Dylan’s face with his hands and scrutinized every detail.

  “What happened? Where have you—” Sawyer stopped midsentence.

  Shannon assumed that Victim Services had advised him, too, to not question Dylan.

  “Never mind. Never mind any of that. I’m just so happy you’re here,” Sawyer said with a laugh, engulfing Dylan in another hug. “You’re home. That’s all that matters.”

  His parents and his sister had clustered around them, and they held on to each other.

  “It’s days like this that make the job worthwhile,” said Robbins, a thirty-year-veteran of the force, in a gruff voice. “Not all of them turn out this way, but when one does...” He smiled down at her. “Well, that’s what the job’s all about.”

  Although his eyes were dry, the tone of his voice had betrayed his emotions. Shannon tried to keep her own composure, as she held out a hand to Robbins. “Thank you for driving us. And please thank your sergeant for letting me be part of this.”

  “I will, and we’re glad you were. Who knows if we would’ve had the same outcome without you.” He gave her a little salute before he walked back to the LAPD unit that had accompanied them and the waiting officer.

  Shannon turned her attention back to the family and wondered again what was between her and Sawyer. When he’d glanced up, he’d given her a crooked smile. After that it seemed she might as well not exist.

  She shut that selfish thought down quickly. Who could blame him?

  He had his son back. That was the most important thing in the world, and of course his focus.

  She pushed away from the side of her vehicle. She’d let the family have their reunion. Tomorrow or the next day would be soon enough to see if she and Sawyer had anything between them, or if their...relationship had been contingent on the search for Dylan.

  Shannon waved goodbye to the other officers as they drove away. Pulling Joey out of the backseat, she placed him on the grass and was climbing into her Explorer when Sawyer called her name.

  She turned to see him gently handing Dylan to his mother, then he jogged over to her.

  “You said you’d find Dylan. And you did. I’ll never forget this. Never.”

  “Um... I’d better get going. Leave you to Dylan and your family.” She bent down to grab Joey and handed the toy to Sawyer.

  He tucked Joey under his arm. “Go?” He sounded shocked. “Can’t you stay and celebrate with us?”

  “I... Thanks for the invitation, but I have to return to the division. There’s a debrief and there’ll be reports to write.”

  He touched her forearm. “Will you come back? Tonight? When you’re done?”

  She gazed into his eyes, fascinated by the light she saw glowing in their depths. A light that she hadn’t seen before.

  A thrill of anticipation flowed through her, and she felt her lips curve in a smile. “I’ll see what I can do. It depends on how long we’ll be. I’ll send you a text.”

  His eyes scanned her face. Rested on her cheek. He brushed his fingers over the abrasion.

  “How did this happen?”

  She shrugged dismissively. “I wasn’t paying attention and ran into a branch. It’s nothing.”

  He skimmed the pad of his thumb across the spot. Then, taking her by complete surprise, he touched his lips to it and drew her briefly into his arms. “I’m sorry you were hurt,” he murmured. “Come back if possible.”

  She nodded. “Go be with Dylan. I’ll see you later, if I can.”

  As she walked back to her Explorer, she raised her own hand to the tender spot on her cheek. Instead of the dull ache that had persisted, she felt a pleasant tingling where his lips had touched.

  * * *

  THE DEBRIEF WAS underway by the time Shannon arrived at the division. Dylan was home, but they had many unanswered questions.

  “The LAPD apprehended two people in the apartment where the boy had been kept,” Bigelow said. “Yet it got us no closer to determining who’d abducted him.”

  “How can that be?” Shannon asked, in disbelief.

  “Because we don’t believe they’re responsible for the abduction. Juanita Sanchez—the woman who was with Dylan—claims she’d been hired as a caregiver for the child. She said she was given the apartment and paid in cash to take care of the boy. She was contacted through an ad she’d placed in the local paper, seeking employment. She’d been a nurse in Mexico and said she wanted to work with children, as a nanny.”

  Shannon shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What about the person who contacted her? That must be the woman who abducted Dylan. Am I wrong?”

  Bigelow’s frustration was palpable. “You’d think. Sanchez was contacted by a woman who’d said she was calling on behalf of her employer. She said she was his executive assistant. According to her, he’d been indefinitely detained on business out of the country. He needed someone to take care of his child until he returned. When Sanchez asked about the child’s mother, she was told the mother had died.”

  “How could someone fall for that?” Shannon didn’t understand. How on earth did someone not quest
ion being asked to take care of a child without expecting to see at least one of the parents? But that was a moot point. “She’s got to know more than she’s saying.”

  Logan caught her attention. “Let Richard finish,” he said quietly.

  “Sanchez was distraught but she held up during questioning.” Bigelow picked up the flow again. “Regardless of how many times we asked the same questions and how many different ways. I’m convinced she was telling the truth. Having been in the country for a few months with a legal work permit but without employment or any other source of income, she’d been feeling the pressure. Feeling desperate.”

  “And how did she end up with the boy?” someone else asked. “When and where did this woman hand him over?”

  “Sanchez met her at a coffee shop. No video cameras,” Bigelow added. “We showed her a picture of Jeannette Evans. Sanchez claimed there was no resemblance to the woman she met. She was given an envelope with the security deposit and first month’s rent on the sublet, and another envelope with her payment in it, along with what she was told was extra money to buy the boy clothes, incidentals and food. She was told the building manager would have the key.

  “We verified that with the manager. He also had signed papers for the apartment, which were sent electronically. The email address is bogus and the IP address led us to a public-use workstation at a library. The woman’s name is, as expected, fake, too.”

  “Sanchez was paid generously and considered herself fortunate to have the job.” Leary spoke for the first time. “Desperate people can do desperate things. When we challenged her during interrogation—asking if the whole situation hadn’t seemed questionable to her—she admitted she’d had qualms. But she’d convinced herself that it was legitimate, since she needed the money.”

  “Sanchez was genuinely horrified to discover that Dylan had been abducted, and terrified of the consequences, including possible jail time or deportation,” Bigelow added. “The call she received was from a prepaid cell phone. She’d said that according to the woman, the father had indicated he’d pick up his son—Dylan—in another week. The locals are keeping an eye on the apartment to see if anyone shows, but we suspect it won’t come to anything. We’ve cautioned Sanchez that if she receives another call, to pretend all is well and to contact Special Agent Leary right away.”

 
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