Home To Stay

“I don’t know how to cope. How I can go on one more minute, never mind an hour. But then I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Shannon could see by the tensing of his jaw and the pulse jumping at his temples that the effort to contain his emotions was costing him.

“Is there anything at all that you can tell me that I haven’t already heard?”

She wished... Oh, God, she wished there was. Anything that would in any way ease his pain. “I’m sorry. I’m not involved in the investigation.”

“Okay.” He looked away abruptly. Even in profile, she could see the sheen of his eyes, the tension in his features. When he glanced back at her, he seemed more controlled. “I want to ask why you contacted me, but I can’t help thinking that would be rude. So, I’ll ask you another question, if that’s okay.”

She nodded once more.

“How are your parents?”

“Excuse me?” She didn’t understand the relevance of the question.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your parents deal with the loss of a child?”

Shannon went with her instincts. She placed her hand on top of Sawyer’s. “You can’t think about that.” Maybe there was something she could say to ease his mind. “We—the SDPD and the FBI—have no evidence to suggest that any harm has come to Dylan. You have to stay positive.”

She saw him swallow, then clear his throat. “I’m grateful to hear that. Thank you.” He groped for his coffee mug and took a drink. “I suppose you know about my wife?”

“Yes. It was mentioned in a briefing.”

“Dylan hadn’t celebrated his first birthday when she went missing. For the police it’s a cold case, but under the circumstances, they think she died...as do I.” He rubbed the bottom of his nose with a finger. “You probably know all this, but in law, there’s an assumption that a person is alive until there’s reason to believe otherwise. Seven years is the usual amount of time. Then, legally, she’ll be presumed dead, but for all intents and purposes, the evidence—or lack thereof—points to her having died.

“I’ve lived with it. Never knowing with one hundred percent certainty if she was still living or not. Hoping month after month, then year after year that the police were wrong. That one day she’d come back to us. But she never did...”

“It must have been dreadful for you to live with that uncertainty,” Shannon responded. “How did Dylan take it?”

Sawyer seemed surprised by the question. “Oh, he was so young. A psychologist I consulted advised me to keep things as normal as possible for him. I told Dylan that Mommy had to go away. He seemed to accept it, but then the nightmares started.” Sawyer turned away and shook his head. “I suppose even at that age he knew. A few months after the police told me they presumed Jeannette to be...gone, on the recommendation of the psychologist, my mother and sister helped me pack up her belongings. Having everything around probably kept her alive in Dylan’s memory...and made it harder on me.

“At first, I insisted that we keep everything in storage, just in case... I ended up donating all her belongings to charity.” He turned back to her. “I’m sorry. That was probably more information than you wanted.”

“No. That’s okay,” she told him, her own voice not quite steady.

“The police looked at me as a suspect in her disappearance,” he said.

Shannon could see in his eyes—more brown than green now—the torment that still caused him.

“I know they’re looking at me now in Dylan’s disappearance, too.” He made a sound of frustration. “Maybe I’m even the prime suspect because it’s the second time a member of my family disappeared.”

Shannon opened her mouth but had no response, because his assumption was correct.

He held up a hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Intellectually, I know the odds and I can’t argue with it. Emotionally? It’s a different matter. Most importantly, they’re spending valuable resources eliminating me as a suspect. I’d like them to get on with it and clear me, so they can focus all their energies on finding Dylan and determining who is responsible.” His voice faltered and he lowered his gaze.

“You can’t give up hope,” Shannon said, more sharply than she’d intended.

Sawyer’s eyes, when he raised them, were dark and gleaming. “My question about your parents. When they did hear... How does a parent handle that? I...I don’t know if I could.”

His voice faltered on the final words. It was more than Shannon could tolerate. She rose and sat on the chair next to him and laid her hands on his shoulders. “You have to stay positive,” she implored.

He stiffened for a moment, then lowered his forehead against hers.

Not knowing what else to do, she closed her eyes and rubbed his back, much as she would to comfort a child. She felt a connection to him, but it was so fleeting she wondered if she’d imagined it.

He straightened and raked his hair back, while Shannon returned to her own side of the table.

“I’m sorry about dumping all of that on you.” He seemed to take in his surroundings, as if he’d only now recognized that he was sitting in a public place. His gaze returned to Shannon and she felt that link with him again.

A moment later, he broke eye contact. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re doing.” His eyes softened. “I really do.” He stood and regarded her with sad eyes. “My life is shambles right now. I don’t know how to do something normal like have coffee and a conversation. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

CHAPTER SIX (#u1cda32a7-428c-5674-a338-a4a643e28692)

SHANNON FELT BAFFLED and unsettled as she drove away from the coffee shop. With the resources available to the SDPD, combined with the expertise of the FBI, they had to be able to find Dylan and return him to his father. What was the point of being a police officer, if you couldn’t help in situations like this?

She checked her rearview mirror, signaled and made a quick U-turn. It was her day off, but she wanted to see Logan.

There had to be something she could do.

“Do you have a minute?” Shannon asked from the doorway of Logan’s office.

His surprise at seeing her was evident, but he gestured for her to enter and have a seat. “What’re you doing here today?” he asked.

Shannon noticed a loose thread at the hem of her shirt and fidgeted with it. When she glanced up, Logan was watching her intently. She wondered if she’d made two colossal mistakes in the same day, but there was no taking back her meeting with Sawyer and no avoiding her discussion with Logan. “I know I’m not on the Dylan Evans case, but I was wondering if there’s anything new with the search.”

“Nothing of substance. Are you asking because of Charlie?”

“No,” she whispered.

Logan pushed back in his chair and rested one ankle on the opposite knee. “We’ve already established that the missing boy hits close to home for you. You need to be honest with me.”

“This isn’t about Charlie,” she asserted. “Or not entirely. I... I’m concerned about Dylan. He’s been missing for over two days. That’s not a good sign.”

Logan tapped his fingers on his thigh. “You’re right. It’s not. But we’re doing everything we can to find him.”

She nodded. “If Darwin and I had gotten there faster, maybe...”

Logan rose, moved around his desk and sat down in the chair beside Shannon’s. “You know better than that. You’ve been here long enough and you’ve had enough training to appreciate that based on Darwin’s reaction, whoever took the boy was at least an hour and a half ahead of you.”

She felt the tears stinging her eyes and was horrified to think that she’d embarrass herself by crying in front of her captain again. She lowered her gaze. “I can’t help feeling I failed.”

Logan leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, forcing her to make eye contact. “You did everything by the book.”

By the book maybe, but could she have done more? She was afraid to say anything, since her emotions were a maelstrom, rioting just under the surface and threatening to break free. She pressed her lips together and glanced away.

“Shannon, I need you to be the very best officer you can be. It would be counterproductive for me to tell you that you did well if that wasn’t the case. Look at me,” he instructed, drawing her attention back to him.

“I’m deeply sorry about what happened to your brother. This is the last time I’ll say this, but you should’ve told me about him. I want you to understand why. No one would be unaffected by a child’s disappearance. For you, those feelings are compounded and could—I’m not saying they did—but they could impact your performance. Don’t keep salient facts from me again. Are we clear?”