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Gideon

It had been a week since Ryan and the kids joined our family. I had to leave for a job, but Laney was taking Ryan to college for his first in-person class. He was nervous—not just about starting school but about everything happening in his life.

Yesterday, Kat stopped by and shared something unsettling. Lily had been taken from a young mother who was walking her baby in the park. The woman went into a bathroom stall, leaving the stroller just outside where she could see the wheels. When she came out, the baby was gone.

I hated leaving with so much going on, but I’d already taken too much time off work. Kat and Laney were following up on whether any of the other kids had also been taken from their families. I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan and decided to call. We didn’t usually make personal calls during a job, but since the mission hadn’t started yet, I had time.

“Hello, Gideon. I miss you,” Laney answered warmly.

“I miss you too. How are the kids doing?”

“Trina’s real name is Tammy Tooler. She was taken three years ago. Her parents are on their way here. The police aren’t happy—they want to take all the kids. Ryan talked to them and gave them Brenda’s address. It looks like she’ll be locked up for a long time.”

“How’s Ryan holding up?”

“He managed to convince the police to let the kids stay with us until their families can be found. He’s been amazing through all of this, but I’m not sure if any of these kids are actually Brenda’s. The FBI is involved now. Ryan told them everything he knew about her, which wasn’t much. On the bright side, he’s officially registered for his university classes, and I signed him up for driving lessons.”

“I’m glad he’s taking those steps. I’ll be home in a couple of weeks. Call Raven if you need anything. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. Don’t worry about Ryan; he knows we’re here for him. He’s heartbroken, though. When Lily left with her family, he went straight to his room. Finding out these kids aren’t his family has been a shock. He blames himself for not questioning things earlier, like when Brenda dropped Joey off. At least the families have said Ryan can visit the kids if they ask for him. Plus, he can FaceTime with them anytime the kids want to talk.”

“He’s been trying to keep busy. Yesterday, he went ocean fishing and caught one of those ugly rock cod. He cleaned it himself, and we had it for dinner. Gideon, he’s so much like you. Even though you didn’t raise him, his mannerisms are just like yours—his expressions, the way his eyebrows move. It’s uncanny. He’s so sad about the kids. He loves them deeply.”

“I know. And they love him, too. Brenda’s going to spend the rest of her life behind bars for what she’s done. If I can, I’ll call him later this week. I have to go now—we’re landing.”

After ending the call, River glanced over at me. “How’s it going?”

“It’s a mess. The kids were all stolen. They’ve already found two of their families. Ryan feels like his whole world is falling apart. He raised those kids, if only for a few years. Brenda dumped them on him and his grandparents, and he and the Grandparents are the only real parents they’ve ever known.”

River shook his head. “It’s heartbreaking. She stole those kids, got away with it for years, and now it’s tearing them apart. But the most important thing is that the families are getting their children back.”

I nodded. “That’s what matters now. Where do we meet this guy that’s hiding from his brother-in-law? Why does he think he’s being stalked?”

“East side of Hankle Street,” River replied. “He claims his brother-in-law thinks he murdered his wife for the insurance money and wants revenge.”

“Do you think he did it? Or is he just paranoid?”

River smirked. “Exactly what I was thinking. He probably killed her, feels guilty, and now his brother-in-law is hunting him down. I wouldn’t mind talking to the brother-in-law.”

“Yeah, if he shows up, we’ll see what he has to say. Let’s pick up the guy and take him to his house. We can wait there and see if the brother-in-law comes around.”

After driving for thirty minutes, we spotted a man peeking nervously around a building.

“You think that’s him?” I asked, pulling up. “He doesn’t look very old. It makes me wonder how old his wife was. If I find out he killed her, I’m taking his ass straight to the police.”

River chuckled darkly. “Hell, I can tell from here he’s guilty. Let’s grab him, head to his house, and see how long it takes him to crack.”

I rolled down the window as we stopped next to him. “Are you Gary Langly?”

“Yeah,” the man said hurriedly, glancing over his shoulder. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Tell me where you live,” I said, glancing back at Gary in the rear seat.

“I don’t want to go there. He’ll come after me. I know him—he’s an ex-Marine, and he hates me. He’s hated me ever since I married Pam.”

“You’ll be hunted for years if you don’t face this now,” I said firmly. “If he shows up, we’ll handle him. We’ll make him understand that you had nothing to do with your wife’s death. How did she die?”

“She was attacked during her run—stabbed thirty times,” Gary said, his voice trembling. “I had to identify her from a police photo. Whoever did it... they really gave it to her. Her face was barely recognizable except for her hair. Pam had beautiful hair. Pitch black and as long as my arm—that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her.”

“How long has she been dead?” I asked.

“Three days,” he replied.

“Three days. And you called us two days ago?” I pressed. “Did you already have her funeral?”

“She was cremated. Her brother handled all of it,” Gary said, avoiding my gaze.

“Why does her brother think you killed her?”

“He thinks I did it for her insurance money,” Gary explained bitterly.

“How much is the policy?” I asked, suspecting a significant amount.

“Two million dollars. The insurance company is holding it until they can prove I didn’t kill her. Can you believe that? They’re questioning if I murdered Pam.”

“That’s standard,” I said. “With a sum like that, they have to investigate.”

“How long were you married?” River asked.

“Six months.”

“And how old was Pam?”

“She was eighteen, and I’m twenty-seven,” Gary said, lifting his chin as if daring us to challenge him.

“That’s way too young for anyone to die,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I imagine her brother is just devastated that his sister was murdered.”

“I don’t know what his problem is,” Gary snapped. “But if he’s smart, he’ll stay away from me.”

When we arrived at Gary’s house—a small, neatly decorated two-bedroom home—he immediately began stripping the place of anything connected to Pam. He yanked their wedding photo off the wall and tossed it into the trash.

River and I exchanged a glance. We didn’t need to say it—we both knew he was guilty.

Gary’s agitation was escalating by the minute. He stomped around the house, his movements jerky and erratic. It was clear he didn’t want to be there. I stepped outside to get some air and noticed a police car parked down the street. I walked over.

“Are you watching Gary Langly’s house?” I asked the officer.

“Who are you?” the officer responded, narrowing his eyes.

“He hired us to protect him from his brother-in-law,” I explained. “We’re former Army Special Forces. I was about to call the police because my teammate and I think he killed his wife. He’s strung out on something, and he’s throwing her belongings in the trash—including their wedding photo.”

The officer frowned and leaned closer. “Listen, we already know he’s guilty. He didn’t kill his wife himself—he hired someone to do it. But we managed to get her into hiding. The photos, the funeral, all of it—it’s fake. We don’t even have the name of the guy he hired, but we need him to confess so we can arrest him.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” I said. “I’m glad she’s alive. Gary told us about the thirty stab wounds, said the killer ‘really gave it to her.’ That was a dead giveaway he was involved. Can I get your number?”

The officer handed me his card.

“Does her brother know she’s alive?” I asked.

“I’m her brother,” the officer said, his voice low and angry. “And I want this bastard locked up for life.”

“We’ll do our best to get him to talk,” I assured him.

“Thanks,” he said grimly.