Her Stolen Son

“You have fifteen minutes,” Sheriff Gray interjected.

Colt nodded to the sheriff, and he strode back to the front of the jail.

“He must be so scared,” she whispered. “Are you sure he’s okay?”

“I’m certain.” Colt hesitated, an awkward second passing as he released her hands. “Do you feel better now?”

She nodded, searching his strong face for the truth. This man looked hard, cold, forceful, as if he’d seen the worst in humans and was trying to figure out where she stood on the pendulum, if he should be protecting her son from her. That suspicious look cut through her like a knife. “You scared me to death. When you said GAI, I thought…”

“That he’d been kidnapped,” Colt said darkly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Petey is in my office. One of the other agents, Derrick McKinney, is staying with him. His wife, Brianna, works at Magnolia Manor where the social worker took Petey.”

“So you’ll send him back there?”

“We have to follow the law, but Brianna is a great lady,” Colt said. “She has a son of her own, and loves those kids. Trust me, she’ll be like a second mother to him.”

He obviously meant to make her feel better, but rage churned through Serena at the thought of anyone else taking care of her son.

“Petey should be with me.” She scanned her bleak surroundings. Concrete floor, dingy concrete wall covered in graffiti. Scratchy, faded wool blanket on top of a cot with a mattress so thin the springs bore into her. “And I shouldn’t be here. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Colt’s gaze scrutinized her. “Petey told me a little bit about what happened,” Colt said. “But I’d like to hear your version.”

Serena hesitated, doubts creeping in. “Do you have some ID?”

His eyebrow shot up in question, but he removed his wallet and flashed his GAI badge. So he was really a private investigator. “If you’re worried that I’m working for the sheriff, I’m not. Your son hired me.”

Her gaze latched with his. “Petey hired you?”

A smile quirked at his mouth. “Yes, he offered me all the money in his piggy bank.”

Fresh pain and love squeezed her heart. “I’ll pay you,” she said firmly. “You’re not taking Petey’s money.”

His jaw hardened. “I never said I’d accept it.”

She frowned at his curt tone. He almost sounded offended. “It’s just that…I feel bad for my son. Ever since my husband died, Petey thinks he has to be man of the house.”

A pained look crossed Colt’s face. “A big job for a little guy.”

“Exactly.” Her voice cracked. “He doesn’t deserve this right now. He’s been through so much already….”

Colt cleared his throat. “Then let’s see if we can clear up this matter, and get you home with him. Now, tell me what happened last night.”

Serena chewed on her bottom lip. Lord help her. She hated Parker for dying. And she hated feeling helpless, as if she was failing her son.

Even worse, she hated to give her trust to a stranger. After all, Parker’s murder had taught her not to trust anyone.

COLT STUDIED Serena Stover, his nerves on edge. He understood her wariness to trust. If little Petey was telling the truth, it sounded as if Lyle Rice was a bastard and had probably deserved his fate.

But kids lied to protect their mothers all the time. What if she had used that fire poker on the man? Or what if he’d come back after Petey went to bed, and they’d fought? She could argue self-defense.

Unless she had gone after the man with the intent to kill him…

But everything about this woman, from her delicate bone structure to her wild curly hair to those mesmerizing terror-stricken eyes, screamed that she was a victim.

“Serena?” he asked.

She worried her bottom lip for another moment, then inhaled a deep breath. “Like I said before, Petey’s father died a couple of years ago. He was a cop, shot in the line of duty.”

He didn’t know what that had to do with anything, but simply nodded, silently urging her to continue.

“I…haven’t dated since he died.” She picked at a loose thread on that scraggly blanket. “I didn’t want to. I was grieving.”

“But you decided to go out with this man Lyle?”

She nodded, regret wrenching her face. “The worst mistake of my life.”

He let that comment simmer for a moment. “Go on.”

She lifted her gaze to his, tears swimming in the crystal orbs.

God, that hurt look sucker punched him and made him want to yank her in his arms and comfort her. Made him want to promise her he’d make everything right.

But that wasn’t a promise he was sure he could keep.

“Serena, I’m not judging you for dating. That’s human, normal.”

She sighed, then glanced away, and he realized she had judged herself. That she felt guilty, as if she was cheating on her husband when he was dead and never coming back. She must have loved him deeply.

“Anyway, Lyle and I only went out a couple of times,” she said softly. “First coffee. Then a movie. But last night we had dinner, and I sensed something was different, that he was ready to take things to the next level.”

“You mean sex?”

A blush crept onto her cheeks, then a sliver of fear darkened her eyes. “Yes.”

“But you weren’t ready?”

She shook her head. “No. Not at all.” She swallowed, then licked her lips, making him uncomfortably aware that she was sensuous and fragile and a woman.

“Anyway, when he brought me home, he came in for a drink, which I never should have allowed,” she added beneath her breath. “Then he came on to me. I told him right away that it wasn’t going to work between us and asked him to leave.”

Colt didn’t like the images forming in his mind. “But he didn’t?”

She twisted that ratty blanket in her hands, fidgeting. “No, he got angry, then pushy. I asked him to leave again, but he refused to accept my rejection, and he pushed me against the fireplace.”

She paused, her breath coming faster. “Then Petey came in, and…” Emotion thickened her voice. “Petey tried to pull him away from me, but he threw him to the floor.”

Her hands knotted into fists around the blanket. “So I grabbed the fire poker and ordered him to get out.”

“Then he left without a fight? You two didn’t struggle?”