Her Stolen Son. Rita Herron
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of movement in the hall indicating the sheriff or his deputy had returned. She’d requested her phone call, but the truth was, she didn’t even know the name of a good lawyer to call.
Of course, the state would give her a public defender, but she’d had one of those before and that had ended with her in a juvenile facility.
Suddenly the sheriff appeared, along with a broad-shouldered man with hair as black as coal and eyes just as black. He looked powerful, lethal even, with a strong, square jaw and arms that were as big as her legs.
Definitely an alpha guy who was accustomed to being in control. And judging from his short haircut, muscular physique, that laser-intense look and the tattoo on his arm, he was former military.
Either that or a hardened criminal.
Her stomach pitched. Surely, the sheriff wasn’t going to lock him in the cell with her.
“Ms. Stover,” Sheriff Gray said. “You have a visitor.”
Serena crossed her arms, confused. Frightened. Wary.
Who was this man and what did he want with her?
Remembering her husband’s horror stories about how devious police interrogation tactics could be, she braced herself. She had to be careful.
He might be here to trap her into giving a confession.
Chapter Two
Serena adopted a brave face. “Who are you?”
“My name is Colt Mason. I’m a detective with GAI, Guardian Angel Investigations.”
Serena frowned, confused even more. “I don’t understand. Why do you want to talk to me?”
“It’s about your son, Petey,” Colt said gruffly.
Serena’s mouth went dry, the room swirled around her, and she reached for the bars to steady herself to keep from passing out. Today had been too much, and if something had happened to Petey…
The sound of the cell opening registered, the men murmuring something indiscernible in low voices. Colt gripped her arm and led her to the cot by the wall. Her legs buckled, and she sank onto it, then leaned over, the room spinning in a dizzying circle.
“It’s all right. Take a deep breath, Serena,” Colt said in a low voice. “Then another.”
His soothing tone brought a flood of tears. Angrily she brushed at them and inhaled, determined to regain control. She had to know what had happened to her son. But when she tried to speak, nausea rose to her throat.
The sheriff returned, then Colt pressed a cold cloth against the back of her neck.
Dammit. She needed to be strong. But she’d lost Parker. She couldn’t lose Petey. And that blasted woman had promised to take care of him.
Clawing for control, she jerked her head up, removed the cloth from her neck and tossed it aside. Colt Mason was staring at her with those intense black eyes again as if he was trying to see into her mind and soul. Maybe even her heart.
She wouldn’t let anyone there, not ever again.
Besides, he was probably trying to judge whether she was a killer.
“Where’s my son?” She clutched his shirt. “Is he hurt?”
“Petey is fine,” Colt said. “He’s at my office.”
“What? I thought that social worker took him to a foster home.”
Colt covered her hands with his and peeled her fingers loose. “She dropped him off at Magnolia Manor, but as soon as the children went inside for lunch, he bolted and ran down to GAI. Apparently you told him that some nice men there helped children.”
Relief mushroomed inside Serena, and she found herself hanging on to his hands. Caution told her not to trust him, but the fact that she had used those exact words with Petey made her relax slightly.
“You have fifteen minutes,” Sheriff Gray interjected.
Colt nodded to the sheriff, and he strode back to the front of the jail.
“He must be so scared,” she whispered. “Are you sure he’s okay?”
“I’m certain.” Colt hesitated, an awkward second passing as he released her hands. “Do you feel better now?”
She nodded, searching his strong face for the truth. This man looked hard, cold, forceful, as if he’d seen the worst in humans and was trying to figure out where she stood on the pendulum, if he should be protecting her son from her. That suspicious look cut through her like a knife. “You scared me to death. When you said GAI, I thought…”
“That he’d been kidnapped,” Colt said darkly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Petey is in my office. One of the other agents, Derrick McKinney, is staying with him. His wife, Brianna, works at Magnolia Manor where the social worker took Petey.”
“So you’ll send him back there?”
“We have to follow the law, but Brianna is a great lady,” Colt said. “She has a son of her own, and loves those kids. Trust me, she’ll be like a second mother to him.”
He obviously meant to make her feel better, but rage churned through Serena at the thought of anyone else taking care of her son.
“Petey should be with me.” She scanned her bleak surroundings. Concrete floor, dingy concrete wall covered in graffiti. Scratchy, faded wool blanket on top of a cot with a mattress so thin the springs bore into her. “And I shouldn’t be here. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Colt’s gaze scrutinized her. “Petey told me a little bit about what happened,” Colt said. “But I’d like to hear your version.”
Serena hesitated, doubts creeping in. “Do you have some ID?”
His eyebrow shot up in question, but he removed his wallet and flashed his GAI badge. So he was really a private investigator. “If you’re worried that I’m working for the sheriff, I’m not. Your son hired me.”
Her gaze latched with his. “Petey hired you?”
A smile quirked at his mouth. “Yes, he offered me all the money in his piggy bank.”
Fresh pain and love squeezed her heart. “I’ll pay you,” she said firmly. “You’re not taking Petey’s money.”
His jaw hardened. “I never said I’d accept it.”
She frowned at his curt tone. He almost sounded offended. “It’s just that…I feel bad for my son. Ever since my husband died, Petey thinks he has to be man of the house.”
A pained look crossed Colt’s face. “A big job for a little guy.”
“Exactly.” Her voice cracked. “He doesn’t deserve this right now. He’s been through so much already….”
Colt cleared his throat. “Then let’s see if we can clear up this matter, and get you home with him. Now, tell me what happened last night.”
Serena chewed on her bottom lip. Lord help her. She hated Parker for dying. And she hated feeling helpless, as if she was failing her son.
Even worse, she hated to give her trust to a stranger. After all, Parker’s murder had taught her not to trust anyone.
COLT STUDIED Serena Stover, his nerves on edge. He understood her wariness to trust. If little Petey was telling the truth, it sounded as if Lyle Rice was a bastard and had probably deserved his fate.
But kids lied to protect their mothers all the time. What if she had used that fire poker on the man? Or what if he’d come back after Petey went to bed, and they’d fought? She could argue self-defense.
Unless she had gone after the man with the intent to kill him…
But