Home To Stay

CHAPTER TWO

SHANNON CLIPPED A leash to Darwin’s collar. She let the dog smell both articles of clothing before storing them in her pouch, and instructed him to “find.”

Based on the information she’d been given, she estimated that Dylan had been missing for about three hours. That was a considerable time for a young boy to be alone in a forest.

But not so long that Darwin couldn’t pick up his trail. The dog’s behavior confirmed Shannon’s assessment of the elapsed time. The boy’s scent had dissipated sufficiently that Darwin was sniffing the air rather than the ground. They entered the forest at a run. Shannon said silent thanks for the hours she spent at the gym. Not wanting to break Darwin’s concentration, she matched her speed to his.

She dodged branches, leaped over fallen logs and, when she couldn’t avoid it, crashed through undergrowth to keep up with him. Once or twice when Darwin slowed, she pulled Dylan’s picture out of her pocket. Each time she looked at the image of the smiling little boy, she thought of Charlie. Her remorse over Charlie’s death, and the possibility that she might not be able to find and return Dylan safely to his father caused a constriction in her chest that made it hard to inhale.

Distracted, she nearly tripped over Darwin when he paused at a fork in the trail. He turned in circles, uncertain which way to go. Shannon let him scent Dylan’s clothing again. With a short bark, he was off once more.

Shannon was breathless by the time they reached a narrow gravel lane that appeared to be a service road. Darwin stopped and looked to Shannon for direction. When she held out the sock for him and urged him to “find,” he started down the road, but Shannon called him back.

It seemed that Darwin had lost the trail and was going to run down the road, probably because it was the path of least resistance.

She placed her hands on her knees and leaned forward to catch her breath.

She’d failed Charlie and now she was failing Dylan, too. The thought of that turned the constriction into a roiling, greasy mess in her gut.

No longer able to contain it, she bent over the bushes and lost the contents of her stomach.

Feeling steadier, she forced herself to concentrate on her task. A little boy’s life depended on it, and she wouldn’t risk his life by not doing her job to the best of her ability.

Shannon tried one more time with Darwin, but he kept wanting to run down the road. Dylan couldn’t have walked down that road barefoot. That thought had her considering the good two miles that she and Darwin had run. How likely was it that a four-year-old could’ve walked that far, and without shoes?

Had she made a mistake? Had Darwin? Had they gone the wrong way at the fork in the trail?

The park rangers had dogs and handlers searching, too. If she and Darwin couldn’t find the boy, maybe one of them would. But she knew the rangers’ dogs were multipurpose, while she and Darwin specialized in searches. Because of that, they were considered Dylan’s best chance.

Dejected, Shannon led Darwin back to the campsite at a brisk jog. Along the way, she called Logan and provided him with an update. He said he was en route and would see her at the site.

It was hard telling her boss that she’d failed. She didn’t know how she was going to break the news to the boy’s father. How could she confess to him that her best hadn’t been good enough?

She hadn’t been able to find his son.

The pain of losing Charlie all those years ago seemed as intense at that moment as it had back then. She remembered the police officer who’d broken the news to her parents that he’d found her little brother. But by then it had been too late.

She remembered how it had felt not to know if Charlie was dead or alive...and if he was alive, to worry about him suffering. The officer back then had brought closure for Shannon and her parents. Not the way they’d hoped, but it was closure nonetheless.

There would be no closure for Sawyer Evans, at least not that morning.

The bile had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She popped a breath mint as she neared the campsite. It would be challenging not to let Dylan’s father see her emotions when she spoke with him; he didn’t need to know she’d lost her breakfast.

She saw him standing at the edge of the small lake, his back to her, legs spread, hands in the pockets of his shorts. A quick scan of the area told her that he was alone. She assumed his family was inside one of the tents. A ranger’s pickup was parked by the roadway, the ranger sitting behind the wheel and talking on his phone.

She gave Darwin the hand signal to “down-stay” next to her Explorer, poured some water in his bowl and walked quietly toward the father.

“Mr. Evans?”

His head snapped around, and she nearly cringed at the desperate hope she saw in his features and his bloodshot eyes. As the hope transformed into desolation, she understood that he already knew the outcome, because she’d returned without Dylan. His whole body sagged as if the air had been sucked out of him, and he looked so bereft, she wanted to wrap her arms around him. Instead, she shoved her hands in her own pockets, her stance mirroring his.

“I’m sorry. We didn’t find Dylan.”

Another emotion flitted across his face. Uncertainty? Relief that at least they hadn’t found him dead?

She realized he might have feared the worst, but... She couldn’t even finish the thought. “We followed his trail to a service road,” she explained. “Without shoes, I don’t think he’d have walked along a gravel road...”

“Then where did he go?”

Shannon shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

“The rangers haven’t found him either.” He gestured toward the pickup. “They said you and your dog would find Dylan. You said it, too.”

He took a step toward her. It was the look in his eyes that told her his temper was brewing. That was okay with her. Anger was better than misery, if it helped pull him out of the depths of despair.

“What now? You’re not giving up, are you?”

“No...of course not.”

She heard a vehicle approach and glanced back. With mixed relief and trepidation, she watched Logan bring his Explorer to a stop next to hers. “Ah, excuse me a minute,” she said. “That’s the captain of our unit.”

Logan climbed out, took one look at Shannon as she strode over to him and guided her to the other side of his vehicle, where they had some privacy. “Is there a new development?” he asked in a hushed whisper.

“No, um, I told you on the phone...” She choked back a sob, and angled away so she wouldn’t embarrass herself further by crying.

She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Shannon, talk to me.”

“I...I...”

He turned her to face him.

When tears filled her eyes and threatened to overflow, she struggled to suppress them. She was not a crier as a rule, and she would not cry in front of her boss—or worse, the father of the missing boy.

“I know this isn’t easy. Shannon... I never want you not to care, but now’s not the time to fall apart. We don’t know that the boy’s come to any harm.”

“It’s not just the boy.”

At Logan’s raised eyebrows, she took a deep breath. “When I was fourteen, my brother died. Charlie... He’d wandered into a forest. When the police found him, it was too late.”

Logan took a step back. “Why didn’t you consider that relevant information to share with me?” he demanded.

Shannon could see he was annoyed, and with good reason, she thought.

“If not when we were discussing your specialization, then you should’ve told me when we spoke on your way here.”

Shannon didn’t know what to say. Logan was right. Of course, he was right. She’d failed him. She’d failed Sawyer Evans. She’d failed Dylan. And if it came down to it...she’d failed herself, too.

She wouldn’t be surprised if her captain decided to fire her over this. He expected truth and integrity from all his officers. She raised her hands. Dropped them again.

Logan let out an aggravated breath and ran a hand over the top of his head. “I’m sorry about your brother. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I lost Becca,” he said, referring to his younger sister. “But you should’ve confided in me.”

Shannon’s mouth fell open, but before she could formulate any words, he continued. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said firmly. “Right now, our focus is on finding Dylan Evans.”

When Shannon’s eyes misted again, he looked at her sternly. “Shannon, if you can’t do this, say so, and I’ll have someone else work with Darwin. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but the missing boy is our priority.”

Shannon forced thoughts of Charlie to the back of her mind and nodded. “I can do it.”

Logan watched her for a moment, then nodded, too. “Okay. I brought Scout with me,” he said as he walked to the back of his SUV and let Cal Palmer’s search-and-rescue dog out of the back. “I don’t doubt Darwin...or you, but two dogs are better than one in this case. The park has a lot of ground to cover. Not that I think a four-year-old could’ve gotten far from the camp.”

She’d had the same thought earlier when she and Darwin had reached the service road. But if Dylan had been snatched by a mountain lion or a coyote... No. She’d stay positive. If she couldn’t, how was Dylan’s father supposed to?

She called Darwin over as Logan clipped a leash to Scout’s collar. “Let’s move and you can fill me in on the details as we go.”

She glanced over to where the father had taken a seat at a picnic table, his head in his hands again. His sister and parents had emerged from their tents and were clustered nearby, but she got the sense that he wasn’t aware of their presence, isolated in his own world of grief and anxiety.

“Sure. Just give me a minute, please.”

Shannon handed Darwin’s leash to Logan. She jogged to the picnic table and sat down next to Sawyer. “Mr. Evans...” She waited until he looked up at her with tortured eyes. The tightness in her chest was immediate and acute, but she didn’t flinch or avert her gaze. “We’re not giving up on finding Dylan. You have my word.”

“You said before...that you’d bring him back.”

His anguished comment intensified Shannon’s sense of failure.

Before she could respond, he held out a shaky hand and took hers. “I’m sorry. That was unwarranted. I know you’re doing your best. Please find him.”

“The captain of our unit brought another search-and-rescue dog with him. We’ll go now.”

“Okay. Good.”

She released his hand and rose.

Rejoining Logan, they gave both dogs Dylan’s scent and let them lead the way into the forest.

“This is the same trail Darwin and I took earlier,” Shannon confirmed a few minutes later.

Logan nodded but kept his eyes on Scout. If the dog lost the scent or picked up any conflicting smells, she knew Logan didn’t want to miss it.

Because of that, Logan signaled to her when Scout paused at a clump of elderberry. They both crouched down to investigate. There was a small damp patch of soil at the base of a bush. Logan bent lower. “Urine,” he said. “I’m betting Dylan relieved himself here.”

She looked around. “Yeah. Darwin and I stopped here, too. I missed the urine,” she said apologetically.

“The important thing is that we’re on the right trail,” he assured her as he placed a marker by the spot. “Let’s keep going.”

The next time they stopped was at the end of the service road where Shannon had abandoned the search. The dogs were about to bolt down the drive when Logan ordered them back.

Shannon shook her head in frustration. “The boy couldn’t have walked there. He wasn’t wearing shoes. I don’t even know how he could’ve gotten this far, but he certainly didn’t walk across the gravel in bare feet.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Then what?” she asked in a subdued voice. “Darwin and I weren’t wrong about the trail. Scout brought us here, too.”

“No, you weren’t wrong.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Watch the dogs. Remember, search-and-rescue dogs can follow scents even if those scents are in a vehicle. See the way they’re behaving?”

Shannon nodded.

“My bet is Dylan got into a vehicle here...or was put in one. Hold on a minute,” Logan said, pulling his cell phone out of its holster.

Shannon squatted down by the road, trying to make sense of the various tire tracks in the gravel. How would a small boy who’d wandered away from his family’s campsite end up in a vehicle? She couldn’t see anything that enlightened her. Then she noticed a small pool of engine oil. It looked fresh. She glanced up at Logan. He was still talking on his phone.

Thinking optimistically, she supposed that someone working in the park could have come across Dylan. But if that was the case, Dylan would’ve been taken to the rangers’ station and would have been reunited with his family by now.

Since they hadn’t heard anything yet, that scenario was unlikely.

The alternatives unnerved her.

Could someone have happened upon Dylan and simply taken him? If not...was it possible that Dylan hadn’t walked away from his campsite at all?

“You’re thinking that Dylan didn’t wander away from the campsite?” she asked as soon as Logan was off the phone. “That he was abducted?”

“Yeah. That’s what I think. No one has contacted the rangers’ station or the division about finding a boy.” He looked around. “This is where one trail ends and another—in a vehicle—begins.”

“There’s fresh engine oil on the gravel.” Shannon gestured toward the spot. “If the dogs have the scent, should we follow it?”

Logan frowned. “No. The ranger I spoke with said the service road is at least four or five miles and it connects to a main arterial. If we’re correct that Dylan was put in a vehicle here, that vehicle had no place to go except down this road. At the arterial, the scent will be much too faint for the dogs to determine which direction it took, let alone follow it from there.”

As they made their way back to the campsite, Logan called the division to get additional resources. The Special Response Team would lead the search, and the FBI would be brought in to assist, which was normal procedure for suspected abductions. All Shannon could think of was how shattered Sawyer had looked and the small glimmer of hope that had flickered in his eyes when she’d said they weren’t giving up.

How could she explain that they thought his son had been abducted?

And why?

“What sort of salary would a professor of law earn?” she asked Logan.

“If you’re thinking of money as a motive, I’d bet he has enough. We ran him. He was an assistant DA before he switched to teaching.”

Shannon mulled that over. She checked her watch. It must’ve been at least five hours since Dylan had disappeared. “If it is kidnapping, shouldn’t there have been contact by now? A call or a ransom demand?”

Logan shrugged. “Odds are, but not necessarily. And money isn’t always the goal. As an assistant DA, he impacted a lot of people’s lives. Those he sent to jail. Their loved ones.”

When they reached the campsite, Shannon immediately noticed that Sawyer wasn’t at the table with his family. Again, he was alone. This time, he was sitting in the sand on the shore of the lake. His knees were bent, arms wrapped around them.

“Do you want me to tell him?” Logan asked.

Shannon wasn’t going to shirk her responsibilities, regardless of how difficult it would be for her. She knew Logan had more calls to make to coordinate the next steps. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll do it.”

She handed Darwin’s leash to Logan, drew a deep breath and walked slowly to where Sawyer was.

“Mr. Evans... Sawyer?” she said softly as she approached him.

He gazed up at her as if he’d just come out of a trance and scrambled to his feet. His eyes were wild as he glanced about.

“We didn’t find him,” she said.

He seemed to close in on himself and collapsed back onto the ground, elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands. “What now?” he asked in a barely audible voice.

She lowered herself to the sand beside him. “We need to ask you some questions.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t look at her. “You and the others have already asked me all the questions imaginable.”

Shannon understood his frustration, but the questions so far had focused on the possibility of a child wandering away. She had to tell him what their hypothesis was and that it required a whole new set of questions to be explored—including those that would probe whether he or another member of his family could’ve had anything to do with it. “No, we haven’t,” she responded. “We suspect that Dylan didn’t wander away.”

Sawyer lifted his head and stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown horns. “What? If he didn’t wander away, then where is he? One of us has been here at the camp since I discovered he was gone.”

As painful as it had been when she’d learned that Charlie was missing—and all because he’d wanted to be with her—it would be far worse for Sawyer once she explained the situation to him. She wished there was something she could say or do to soften the blow, but the cold, hard truth had to be said.

* * *

WHEN THE POLICE officer didn’t answer his question right away, Sawyer scrabbled around to face her and grasped her upper arms. “What do you mean Dylan didn’t wander away?”

Her eyebrows furrowed and she glanced down to where he was gripping her.

Only then did he realize he was holding her and not gently. He immediately released her. Seeing the distinct marks left by his fingers below the short sleeves of her uniform shirt, he was dismayed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry... Officer,” he mumbled.

She rubbed a hand over the spot on her arm. “It’s okay. And it’s Clemens. Shannon Clemens. We followed a trail to a service road. We think he was put in a vehicle there.”

Sawyer slumped back on his heels. “Someone found him? Have you checked to see if anyone’s reported finding him? To the rangers or the police?”

“Yes. Neither the park rangers nor the SDPD have received any report of a young boy being found.”

“But you think someone put him in a vehicle and...took him?” Sawyer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If someone had found Dylan, lost and alone, surely that person would have taken him to the rangers’ office or the police by now. And if not? As he realized what she was saying, the horror of it threatened to overwhelm him. “You think he’s been...kidnapped?” he asked, his voice raw.

“We think someone took Dylan. The distance he would’ve had to travel to the service road, especially in bare feet, is too far. He was probably carried, if not all the way, then part of it.” Shannon nodded to her captain, who’d just joined them, before continuing. “Based on the behavior of the dogs, we suspect a person or persons put him in a vehicle at that location.”

Sawyer staggered to his feet. Turning his back on the cops, he dragged the fingers of both hands through his hair.

He was fairly certain this was what losing one’s mind felt like. His son was missing—might have been abducted—and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. After Jeannette had left them, he’d sworn he’d protect Dylan and give him enough love for two parents.

He stumbled to the edge of the water and stared off into the distance.

Was this some incomprehensibly cruel joke the powers that be were playing on him? Three years ago his wife went missing and now his son? Jeannette might be lost to him, but he had to get Dylan back. Whatever it took. If not, he really would go insane.

If Dylan had been abducted, who would’ve done it?

“Mr. Evans?”

A male voice, so the captain, not the officer. Sawyer spun around.

“It might be advisable for you and your family to go home. We’ll need to ask you some more questions, but we can do it there.”

Sawyer looked around and noticed that the campsite was now being treated as a crime scene. There were more cops present and yellow do-not-cross tape had been used to cordon off the area.

“Dylan...” he whispered and turned imploring eyes on Shannon.

“There’s nothing more you can do for him here,” she said softly. “If he was abducted, you should be home near your phone.”

He nodded. “I...I have to tell my parents and Meg.”

“Okay. Then we’ll have someone drive you home. You can get your vehicle some other time. It’ll be fine here until then.”

“Sure. Yeah.” Didn’t they understand that he didn’t care about his damn car?

All he cared about was getting Dylan back.

CHAPTER THREE

THE AUTHORITIES WERE convinced that the young boy, Dylan Evans, had been abducted. Despite there being no ransom demand. No contact. At least not yet.

When the possibility had first occurred to Shannon, dread had washed over her. Telling the father, Sawyer Evans, what they suspected had broken her heart.

Afterward, she’d gone to Sawyer’s home with Logan, and then back to the division for the briefing of the Special Response Team. Richard Bigelow was the lead detective assigned to the case, and she was glad of it. She didn’t know him well, but he was said to be the best on his team.

The SDPD had called in the FBI to assist, standard operating procedure with children presumed to have been abducted. The FBI had assigned a special agent in charge to work with the SDPD, Gavin Leary, and another special agent, Anne Wilson, to assist.

Shannon didn’t know if her help would be required again, but took comfort in the fact that they had the top resources available on the case.

Back at her desk, she scooped kibble into Darwin’s bowl. She watched him scarf down his food. Shannon might not be hungry, but the events of the day didn’t seem to have hurt her dog’s appetite.

After he finished his meal, he ambled over and rested his head on her lap. She stroked him as she thought back to the meeting.

They’d considered all the possibilities and narrowed it down to two. Either Dylan had wandered off and someone had seized him opportunistically, or it had been planned and he’d been taken from the campsite and to the vehicle.

Everyone present had agreed that the second scenario was more probable, since the former would’ve been too coincidental and highly improbable in the middle of the night. Also, as Shannon had concluded, it would’ve been too long and arduous a trek for Dylan to walk from the campsite to the service road on his own.

But how could someone have gotten Dylan out of the tent without waking his father? The only plausible scenario they could come up with was that the boy had gone outside to relieve himself and been taken then. But that would’ve meant someone had been watching and waiting, possibly all night, for Dylan to appear. She returned to the fact that it had been hours and there was still no ransom demand.

Shannon got her laptop, put her feet up on a chair and opened a picture of Charlie.

She was fourteen when her little brother died and the events that had led up to it still haunted her.

All through her childhood, people had called her a tomboy. When she’d first heard the term, she hadn’t known what it meant. Curious, she’d looked it up online, where it said something about how the way she was didn’t follow the “female gender norm.” That hadn’t bothered her. She’d seen it as fact. When other girls her age were playing with dolls or going to tea parties, she’d been engaged in sports or building mechanical things.

Her best friend since the first grade was a boy. Kenny had been her only friend for most of her life. When her parents had another child and that child turned out to be a boy, she’d been relieved. Shannon would’ve loved her sibling no matter what, but she’d secretly worried about how she’d handle having a sister. She was okay with being a tomboy, maybe even pleased by it, but what sort of influence would she have been on a little sister? So, she’d been glad when her mother had given birth to Charlie.