Page 67 of Hidden Resolution

“Jacob,” Zack said, “I need you to stay here with Shonda while I go talk to your grandparents. Can you do that for me?”

The boy gave a quiet nod.

“I’ve got him,” Shonda said, wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders. “Come on, buddy.”

Mason followed Zack out, and Shonda did her best to distract Jacob, but the raised voices from the other room made that impossible.

“Is my mom going to kill Erica?” he asked, eyes brimming.

She wished she could lie and tell him there was no chance, but the truth hung heavily between them.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer,” he whispered. Clever kid he was, he’d already guessed the truth.

Her heart broke for him.

After an epic shouting match, the police cuffed Judith and walked her out. Charlie retreated to his home to wait, and Dane assumed the task of comforting Jacob.

“Come on, Fry Guy,” Dane said, scooping him up and slinging him over one shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Hours crawled by with no updates or new leads. Fatigue crept thicker than fog, settling behind Shonda’s eyes and dulling her mind.

“Come here, love,” Mason said, offering his arms as a lifeline.

For the count of five heartbeats, she hesitated, wishing she had more fortitude to stay detached. But she was stretched thin, and she craved the comfort of the man she loved, regardless of whether he returned her affection or not. Shonda curled into Mason’s side, appreciating the feel of his embrace.

He cradled her head against his chest and stroked her hair with slow, soothing motions. The strong, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her cheek became her lullaby. Eventually, sleep claimed her.

19

Mason 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 sayErica’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.”