Page 20 of Hidden Resolution (Stonebrooke #2)

M ason replayed the night’s events in his head, rehashing his argument with Shonda on a never-ending, torturous loop. Regret, acidic and bitter-tasting, rode him hard, but there was no going back and erasing the suffering from her eyes.

The ping from an incoming text shattered the silence. Color drained from Zack’s face, signaling another dramatic twist. Dane and Bucky crowded around him. Shifting Shonda with care, Mason eased from beneath her and joined them. The photo on the screen knocked the breath from him.

Blindfolded, bound, and deathly pale, with blood streaked down her face, Erica lay on the ground.

“Jesus!” he and Dane exclaimed in unison, both thoroughly rattled.

But Bucky remained contemplative, dissecting the image with surgical precision. After a few beats, he said, “Send that to me.”

The instant Zack complied, Bucky forwarded it on.

“I’ve sent it to the lead detective on the case,” he said. With a reverse pinch, he expanded the image. “If I had to guess, I’d say Erica’s being held in a garage. See here? That’s some type of floor coating.”

Zack leaned in. “You’re right! Look at the back wall. I can’t be positive, but doesn’t it look like it might be pretty dark? Like maybe the wall was burned?”

Before anyone could respond, Zack bolted for the dining room and snatched up a laptop. He entered his passcode with shaky hands and flipped through a series of photos until one stopped him.

“Here! Right here. Same coating on the floor. That’s Erica’s garage!”

He thrust the laptop into Bucky’s hands and went for his keys and coat.

“Zack, wait,” Bucky barked. “You can’t rush in there. She might have a weapon and could hurt Erica if she feels threatened.”

Mason could have kissed Bucky for his cool head. In this chaos, it helped to have someone keep Zack from acting on pure emotion.

“Right. What’s our next step?” Zack asked impatiently. His fury was a living, breathing thing, vibrating off him. “And don’t say we wait, because I can’t.”

With a simple tap of the phone, Dane redirected the conversation. “Why would she send this? She had to know you might recognize the place.”

“Maybe she didn’t think that far ahead. Maybe she just wanted to torment me so badly, she didn’t consider it,” he suggested.

Damn it all if Dane didn’t have a valid point. The entire setup felt off.

“I’m not buying that,” Mason said. “She’s been extremely careful not to get caught until now.”

“Fuck! You’re right.” Zack dragged his hands down his face and steepled his palms in front of his mouth.

His obvious torment shredded Mason’s soul.

“What do we do?” Zack’s question was hoarse and hurting.

“ You do nothing. Let us handle it.” To stop his protest, Bucky held up a hand. “I’m serious about this, man. We’re trained for situations of this nature. You’re not. I’ll call it in that Christie might be holed up there. But if you go charging over, half-cocked, you could get Erica killed.”

“Dammit, Buck! I’m dying over here,” Zack protested.

Mason understood in a way no one could. If he were in Zack’s predicament, he’d react exactly the same way.

To be unable to protect the person you loved the most had to be devastating.

His gaze zeroed in on Shonda, who was wide awake and watchful.

One arm was wrapped across her stomach as if she were hugging herself, and with her opposite hand, she covered her mouth as if preventing an involuntary scream.

“I could always arrest you for obstruction and throw you in a cell to cool off, I suppose,” Bucky said.

“Are you trying to get me back for suspecting you earlier?” Zack asked, half serious.

“Partly.” His half smile flashed before his expression turned solemn again.

Zack pivoted toward the hallway. “I’m going to check on Jacob.”

The next moments were pure madness as he tore through the house, screaming Jacob’s name. Mason and Dane rushed to follow suit while Bucky checked the exterior of the house.

“What the fuck?” Zack shouted. “How the hell does an eight-year-old boy just disappear from a house with a half-dozen cops surrounding the outside and five adults on the inside?”

“Stay calm,” Dane ordered.

With ice-cold blood running through his veins, Mason had to force himself to stop and think.

Where the hell would Jacob go? To see his grandfather?

Props to the kid for stealth, but when he found him, hopefully unharmed, Jacob would soon learn his life was too fucking precious to be risking his neck on boneheaded moves.

To say nothing of aging his dad as he had.

“Do you think he might have gone to Charlie’s?” he suggested.

Wasting no time, Zack grabbed his cell and pulled up Charlie’s number. After a long series of rings, he shook his head. “No answer.”

Dane and Zack ran for the door, and Mason stopped Shonda with an arm around her waist as she moved to follow.

“They’ve got it.” At her understanding nod, he sat down beside her and gathered her close. How bizarre that he was the one needing comfort.

“I have a sinking feeling,” she told him.

He did, too, but overcome by the rising tide of anger, worry, and pure fear, he couldn’t speak. It went against his nature to do nothing, but Bucky was correct. Their interference could get Erica killed.

Approaching footsteps echoed through the house, and Mason rose to greet his brothers. Their expressions were identical: two individuals who had been sucker-punched by fate.

Mason hugged him, and sobs wracked Zack’s body as the adrenaline caught up to him.

“We think she has Jacob, too. We found Charlie in a pool of blood, unconscious,” Zack rasped.

“Apparently, Christie hit him over the head and texted Jacob, pretending to be Charlie,” Dane clarified.

From somewhere behind him, Mason heard Shonda gasp. “Oh my god.”

Yeah, his morbid thoughts exactly.

“Since our hands are tied, I feel like we should be there for Charlie,” Dane suggested flatly, eyes haunted.

They all agreed.

Charlie had been a surrogate dad to them.

As the local police chief, it had been well within his rights to arrest and send the young Sharp hoodlums to juvie when they erred on the wrong side of the law.

Instead, he’d proved to be a positive influence and dedicated his off-time to guiding them down the right path.

“Is it possible Jacob got away? Maybe he’s lost in the dark?”

Shonda’s question was fragile optimism wrapped in worry, and Mason adored her for providing a flicker of light in a dark moment.

“Anything is possible.” Dane’s eyes softened, figuring out what she was trying to do, too.

“I can wait here, in case…” she offered.

She didn’t finish, but they all heard the “in case Jacob miraculously returns” anyway.