Page 6 of The Fear (The Hillers of Barratt County #7)

Deputy Brenton Ryce tried not to snarl as he hurried down the hallway to the school cafeteria Thursday night. This was getting to be too much. He’d been mid-patrol when the call had come in.

He had no idea where Jessica was now.

Or his son. Worry for BJ was eating at him. BJ was only three—he couldn’t tell him everything the way his older sister could. Jessica had had the kids since last Friday, though her mother had kept them for two days—and he was supposed to get them back Sunday night. But now this…where was BJ?

But first…Wynnie. He’d deal with the school first. Make sure his little girl was…safe. And taken care of. Then he’d track down her so-called mother and get his little boy back.

"Deputy Ryce. Thank you for coming so quickly.

" The school principal met him at the doors to the cafeteria. He’d always thought Luis Sandoval was a bit of a prick.

Mr. All-American-Jock who could do no wrong that everyone thought was so great.

Poster boy for perfection. Brenton had never fit in with guys like Sandoval.

"How long has she been waiting here?” Hell. It was late. Wynnie went to bed at eight-thirty, as it was.

"Pickup ended at six. It's nearly seven-thirty now. I called Jessica multiple times, but haven’t gotten through.” Luis didn’t like Jessica much, that was well known. But he didn’t say anything about her. Just…did his job. Brenton would give him that.

Hell, no one in town really liked Jessica all that much. Brenton should have realized that before—and realized there were good reasons why.

"I'll take her home. See what’s going on.

Jessica has migraines, sometimes they can knock her out with no warning.

" Bullshit. She’d said she had migraines, but Brenton had noticed early on in their marriage they only hit when they were arguing—and he was right.

She conveniently had migraines, was more like it.

A more manipulative woman had never existed.

Migraines in Jessica’s world meant hung over.

"Of course. Wynnie's been very good about it. She said Mommy sometimes gets busy at work. That’s why she’s late sometimes."

“Has this happened before?”

Luis hesitated. “A time or two, but we’ve always been able to get ahold of her mother within fifteen minutes.”

Brenton knew the school couldn’t tell him much, and couldn’t get involved in his problems with Jessica without a court order. But he had no doubt good old Luie was keeping a list of every screwup he and Jessica had.

This…this was just another in a long list of reasons Jessica wasn’t much of a mother.

Brenton was just exhausted, from all of this. Exhausted. Didn’t he have enough going on, with his job and doing his best to be there for his kids? It felt like he was fighting Jessica for his kids at every turn.

Why wouldn’t she just give them to him and then go do whatever she wanted? She’d be happier then, too. She could screw every guy between here and the Gulf of Mexico, then. Without being so-called weighed down like she’d said so many times before.

He walked into the cafeteria, his boots echoing in the empty space. There she was. Wynnie looked up from her craft and grinned. She was okay. Hell, this kid was too adorable to be his. That was for sure.

She was his, though. He’d had DNA tests on both kids done to prove paternity. He’d loved Wynnie from the first moment he’d held her. She was his, period. His baby girl. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his kids.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

She scrambled down from the chair and ran to him, throwing her small arms around his legs.

“I get to see you today! We made counting beads from macaroni today. We painted them. I got it on my paint smock, but Mith Hanan said that was what they were for and that she washes them at home once a week. She lives behind us now, but Mommy won’t let me ever say hi.

So I say hi at school. I did pink and purple because they are my favorite colors. ”

"That’s really neat, baby. Are you ready to go home?” With him. Whether Jessica liked it or not.

"Uh-huh. Mommy got stuck at work again. I think.”

"I’m not sure where Mommy is actually, but we’re going to find her and your brother. Let’s get your stuff.”

The other teacher had already gathered Wynnie's things. She handed over the small purple backpack with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Of course. He vaguely remembered her—ten or eleven years younger than him, and very shy—extremely pretty, though, with big gray eyes. Jessica had said cruel things about her a few times there in the diner. Jessica was such a jerk toward other women, but…he suspected this teacher remembered the bullying. How could she not? The entire diner had heard that day. They’d still been married at the time, and he’d been utterly humiliated.

He’d tried to apologize the next time he’d seen her but this woman had avoided him after that.

He’d felt like an utter ass for not stopping Jessica sooner.

He’d just been paying the tab and hadn’t realized what had been happening until it was too late.

He hated bullies. He hated that he’d inadvertently married one, too.

But if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have this little girl and her baby brother now.

"Have a good evening, Deputy Ryce. Wynnie, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?" The teacher gave a beautiful smile, and barely met Brenton’s eyes. Damn it. He hated this, Jessica ruined everything she touched.

Wynnie jabbered about her day as he led her to his patrol unit, about the book they'd read in class and the picture she'd drawn for the bulletin board. She was happy, she was safe. Wynnie was fine. But where the hell were Jessica and his son?

"Daddy?"

"What, baby?"

"Can we go to McDonald's? I'm really, really hungry right now."

"Yeah, we can. Did you eat all of your lunch today?"

"Yes, I did. Except the celery stick. Yuck. But only almost. I probably can’t eat tomorrow, though.” She had a worried look in her big brown eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Mommy forgotted to put the money on my lunch bank again. But Mith Hanan helped me today. She's really, really nice."

"How did Ms. Hanan help you?"

"She gaved me real money so I could eat.

Two whole paper dollars from her pocket.

She gaved them to me before we got to the cafeteria so no one would know Mommy forgot me again, and then I gaved them to the lunch lady to buy my lunch instead.

Mith Hanan said not to worry about it, that mommies sometimes forget things.

" Wynnie scrambled into the booster seat he kept in the trunk for when he needed it in his patrol unit.

"Mith Hanan never forgets things, though. She always remembers everything . She knew I’d want purple paint before I even asked. "

"Was this the first time Ms. Hanan helped you with lunch money?" Lunch money, not picked up on time… What else? Damn it, the kindergarten teacher must think both Wynnie’s parents were total losers or something. Everyone at the school probably did.

“No. She helped me before, too. Lots of times. Daddy, are you mad at Mith Hanan? You have your mad face on again." She just looked at him and waited. Sometimes, she was eighty-four years old, this kid.

"Not at you, kid. Or Ms. Hanan." Of course he wasn’t, she’d made sure his kid could eat. While preserving Wynnie’s dignity. How could he be angry about that?

“At my mommy again? Mommy says you hate her. She says it all the time.”

“I do not hate your mother. Sometimes she makes decisions that I don’t understand.

But she is your mom, and I respect that.

I do not hate her.” Hell, yes, he did. Every time she did something to let down one of their kids that hate just grew.

He was trying to not let it fester—for the kids’ sake. But damn, that was hard.

He swung by McDonald’s and grabbed two Happy Meals.

Wynnie devoured hers in the car. He didn’t give her fast food often, but she and her brother loved it.

He still hadn’t heard from Jessica. At one time he would have been more worried—but this was just like her.

Hell, she was probably doing it on purpose. Just to screw with him.

The drive to Jessica's apartment complex was short. Her damned car was right there in its usual spot. Brenton pulled in and parked.

He knocked on the apartment door, Wynnie pressed against his side. And kept pounding. Finally, Jessica answered. Her hair was disheveled, and she was wearing old sweats, like she'd just gotten out of bed. At eight p.m. on a weeknight.

Brenton forced himself not to start snarling. Wynnie was right there, after all.

“Where’s BJ?” His kid should be here right now. He was only three. Hadn’t she been watching him?

“In his room playing, probably.”

“You don’t know? Do you even give a damn about our kids?

” Brenton pushed his way in and headed down the hall to the bedroom his children shared when not with him.

The tension around his gut lessened when he saw the familiar dark curly hair.

BJ was sound asleep in the middle of his toys.

Naked. His kid was stark naked and it was damned cold in the apartment.

He grabbed a Scraggle-Popps blanket and tossed it over his son.

Hell, this place utterly stunk right now. How could she let their kids live like this?

It was rank.

She grabbed her phone. “Oh. I missed the calls and texts. Well, you picked her up. All good.”

"Someone had to. School had been calling you for ninety damned minutes."

"I had a fucking headache.”

"Let me guess. Your phone wasn't working either?" Excuses, it was always excuses.

"It was in the other room. I was sleeping. Thanks for getting her. Now, get out."

The apartment smelled like stale alcohol and something else he didn't want to identify. Hell, how did Jessica live like this? Was that mold on the dishes in the sink? Had someone dumped a damned trashcan on the kitchen table?

It sickened him that his kids had to live like this.

"Mommy, Daddy bought me McDonald's because I was really, really hungry. We got one for BJ, too. With a little kid toy so he can’t choked on it again. Like last time.”

"That's nice, baby. Why don't you go get ready for bed?"

She barely even looked at their daughter. She hadn’t seen Wynnie all day and was all ready to send her to bed. No hugs, no questions, just ‘go to bed’.

“Go wake your brother and give him his food. Find him some clothes to wear.” Brenton told his daughter. “You kids are coming home with me tonight. So your mother can rest. Since she has such a headache, and everything.”

He had clean clothes and everything his kids needed at his house.

He shot a look at Jessica, just daring her to argue. She looked at his uniform and paused. She just huffed and stormed toward the bathroom. She always had been a bit more subdued whenever he wore the uniform.

Brenton pulled his phone. Took photos of the damned mess his kids were expected to live in now. Especially the mold on the sink. Shit, that was disgusting.

Brenton looked around the apartment, taking in the empty bottles on the counter and the takeout containers scattered around. She had plenty of money for Knob Creek and Jack Daniels, though. Proof was right there. He snapped a quick photo.

Jessica came back. Brenton slipped his phone in his pocket before she could ask what he was doing. “Her teacher’s been paying for Wynnie’s lunch. What’s up with that?”

“Money’s been tight lately.”

“Has it?” He held up an empty whiskey bottle. “Somehow, I doubt it. This would pay Wynnie’s lunch tab for a damned month, and we both know it. Luis Sandoval said she’s not had money on her account in three weeks. I don’t have a clue how much we owe her teacher.”

Hell, the new teacher had only been there around three weeks, as it was. Was it a daily thing for her to feed his kid?

“So? Not like Miss Perfect Hala Hanan can’t afford it. That brother of hers is loaded. Hot, too. Much hotter than you. Love to strip him naked. That suit just does it for me. Bet he has more money than you.”

“Our kids don’t need to be charity cases. Why was there no money on her account? For real? Let me guess, you forgot. ” Couldn’t be bothered was more like it. "Is there anything else you've been forgetting? Doctor's appointments? School events?"

"I haven't forgotten anything really important. School makes sure she’s fed, so what’s the big deal?"

"No? Our daughter isn’t important? She was left there, Jessica. Left there. You weren’t sick or having a migraine or just forgot. You are hungover and just didn’t give a damn.”

"Get out."

"Gladly. I’m taking the kids tonight. You’ll get them back next week.” Maybe.

He was going to see what he could do now.

He was calling his attorney tonight. Sending him the photos.

And putting Walters in touch with the school.

There might be things going on Brenton wasn’t aware of.

This…had gone on long enough. What would she do next—just leave BJ in a cage full of wild dogs while she went out and got high with some guy from the bar?

He wouldn’t put anything past her now.

All Brenton wanted was to get his children away from their mother.

Before it was too late.