A Son's Tale. Tara Quinn Taylor

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A Son's Tale - Tara Quinn Taylor


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searched for signs of accusation in the detective’s expression and couldn’t determine if there were any there or not.

      “What was he wearing when you left the house?”

      “His oldest pair of cutoff shorts. The ones with the ripped pocket. They were going to get to play around with oil on canvas today and I didn’t want him to ruin any of his good clothes.”

      She couldn’t afford to replace them. She and Sammie lived on a tight budget. They had his whole life. Was that why this was happening? Because she couldn’t provide well enough for her son?

      “And a Phoenix Suns T-shirt,” she said. He had four of them. “The oldest one. It’s his favorite sports team. They play basketball…out in Phoenix. We’ve never been there.”

      “What was he wearing on his feet?” Detective Martin’s voice was a gentle reminder that this was all real. She wasn’t having some horrible nightmare.

      “Sneakers. The ones with the rip in the toe. They’re black. Converse.” The Converses had been a Christmas gift from her mother. He’d worn them out by March. She’d bought him a new pair of sneakers. A bargain brand. They looked the same to Morgan but Sammie loved Converses. He said all real basketball players wore them. And so he’d continued to wear them even though they were worn through.

      “You said he doesn’t know his father?”

      Morgan shook her head.

      “Are you certain about that?”

      “Yes, of course. Sammie’s never met Todd. He knows we were divorced and he thinks his father is dead, that he died before Sammie was born, which is why Sammie has my last name.” She’d told him Todd was dead. She hated lying to her son but felt that in this case, she had no other choice. Because the alternative, the truth, was unthinkable. No one told a little boy that his father just didn’t want him. That he wasn’t worth the money it would have cost Todd to have Sammie in his life.

      “I’d know if Todd wanted to see our son.” She could bet on that. If Todd wanted something, Todd got it.

      “But what if he thought you wouldn’t let him see Sammie? Do you think he’d take him?”

      Her blood ran cold. “As in kidnap him? You said there was no sign of struggle at the school—nor any forced entry or exit. You said that a good majority of missing-child cases are runaways and that was what Sammie’s case was looking like… .”

      She heard how crazy she sounded, to be accusing a cop of misleading her. But she felt crazed. “No.” She forced herself back to the question. “Todd wouldn’t do that,” she added, trying to calm down. “I wasn’t eager for Todd to have a part in Sammie’s life, but I never told him he couldn’t see his son. Todd was the one who wanted nothing to do with him from the very beginning. Sammie’s father is a thief and a liar who wants nothing more than to wallow in money. And he’s doing that now. He’s married to an heiress who actually has money to share with him. On the condition that he doesn’t bring a kid into her life. She hates them.”

      Morgan was heiress to a large fortune, too—unless her father had changed his will and left all of his money to the investment firm he owned and loved more than life—but she’d been cut off from access to the money when she’d married Todd.

      Her father had forbidden the marriage. He’d said that Todd was a gold digger. She’d believed Todd loved her, so she’d gone against her father’s dictates. Her father then made certain that she didn’t have any money for Todd to use.

      And as it turned out, her father had been right.

      “We ran a check on him,” Elaine Martin said, and Morgan stared at her. They’d run a check on her father? Already?

      “On Todd Williams,” the detective clarified. “Turns out he’s got a record, both juvenile and adult. He did time for burglary and theft.”

      “That’s right.” Though she hadn’t known about the juvenile stuff until after he’d broken into her parents’ mansion and tried to steal what was “rightfully” his. His prison time had come after their divorce.

      “We’ve got a call in to his parole officer. They’re going to be bringing Williams in for questioning.”

      Again, Morgan nodded. They could question the devil for all she cared. She just wanted her son found.

      “What kind of relationship does Williams have with your parents?”

      “After he stole from them and they prosecuted him, you mean?”

      “They were one of the counts in his conviction?”

      She nodded.

      “Before or after your divorce?”

      “He stole from them before. The conviction came after.”

      “What kind of relationship do your parents have with Sammie?”

      “My mother sees him regularly. My father never comes to our home or takes Sammie anywhere.”

      “Your parents are divorced?” The woman looked down at her paperwork. “I’m sorry, I thought…”

      “They aren’t divorced,” Morgan clarified. “My father sees Sammie when my mother brings him to their place, but he and I have been in a standoff since before Sammie was born. After my marriage to Todd broke up, he offered to take me back into his fold, but only if I live at home with him and my mother and do exactly as I’m told. If I don’t live by his dictates, he has nothing to do with me. He won’t go to any of Sammie’s functions if I’m there. Though, to be fair, I believe that if I was incapable of providing for Sammie, my father wouldn’t let us starve. As it is, he’s content to let me penny-pinch, drive a used car and live in a smallish duplex. And I’m perfectly happy to do so if it means I can be my own person and live my life and raise my son in the way I feel is best.”

      “Mmm.” The detective’s compassionate glance, her knowing tone, left Morgan feeling far too exposed. And ready to spill all at the same time.

      She wanted her son found. No matter what embarrassing and humiliating shortcomings she had to confess.

      “So your parents don’t help you out financially at all? Not even with Sammie?”

      “No. My mother buys gifts for Sammie occasionally and my father doesn’t object, as long as I don’t benefit financially. It’s his way of teaching me a lesson. My father isn’t evil. He’s just cold. And certain that he’s always right.”

      But he would not do anything, ever, to hurt his grandson. Or Morgan, either, in a physical sense.

      “You have no siblings, right?”

      “Right.”

      Morgan jumped as a knock sounded on the door to the small room.

      “Excuse me.” With papers in hand, Detective Martin left Morgan alone.

      She was back in a couple of seconds.

      “Todd Williams is here. We’re going to question him.”

      “You really think he could have taken Sammie?”

      Elaine Martin shrugged. “If his money pool is running low. I know you said his wife is rich but he could be into gambling. Or he could have taken your son if he wants to get back at your folks for rejecting him to begin with and then pressing the charges that sent him to prison. Either motive is solid. It’s our job to find out who has motive and to investigate every possibility as quickly as possible.”

      Morgan felt like she might throw up. This couldn’t be happening. “But if he took him, he’d have to do something with him.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He couldn’t take him home… .”

      Sammie? Oh, God. Her breath caught. Where are you, Sammie?

      Does your father have enough of a parental instinct to at least keep


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