“Absolutely. Can you find someone to stay with your aunt?”
“I will.” She hung up.
“Mia. I’m fine here for a minute,” Gus said, her gaze pointedly avoiding the couch. “Can you do something about the blood?”
Mia filled a bowl with cold water and blotted the spot with it to keep the blood from setting. Then she added some detergent and went to work on the stain. She wrung the rag frequently, squeezing out the liquid until it finally ran clear.
Luckily, most of the blood was on the dish towels and his clothing. While she worked, she tried to think of who could stay with Gus. Obviously, Jane and Anne Marie were both out. Aunt Susan probably wouldn’t after what had happened this evening.
What about Kay?
Mia shook her head, recalling the neighbor saying she had family staying. Then who?
Her social circle had very few people in it. And Gus, because of her age and her medical state, didn’t have very many people she could count on either. “I’m going to the hospital tomorrow with Jackson, Gus. Who should I ask to come over?”
“Mia, dear. You told me you’d contacted your mother. Call her. See if she’d be willing.”
Mia sucked in a breath. Could she do that? Could she ask her mother for help?
But how could she do it without Blaine getting in the way?
“I’ll have to call in the morning. Blaine goes to the gym every day at six.” Mia bit her lip.
It was a risk. It didn’t give them a lot of time, but it was the only choice.
She needed something more. A few days ago, in the woods, she’d heard Jackson pray, not once but twice. They’d survived, despite all the challenges and the fact that armed killers were coming for them.
In the past few days, the faith she’d abandoned had reawakened. Mia hadn’t been sure God would listen to her. After all, she’d run from Him. But hadn’t he kept them safe? And He’d brought Reggie to her door, which meant they were closer to finding Dylan.
It had taken her a long time, but now she realized she needed God in her life again.
Mia moved to the kitchen so Gus wouldn’t hear her. In the middle of the room, she bowed her head, folded her hands, and prayed with everything in her heart and soul.
“God, I know You hear me and that You care, even after I rejected You. I’m done trying to do this on my own. Please. I could use Your help. And so could Jackson. We need to help Reggie navigate what’s happening, and we need to find Dylan. Amen.”
That wasn’t all, but she didn’t want to ask too much.
Would they find Dylan? Now that Reggie had appeared, did it mean Dylan would be found soon?
Nineteen
Jackson headed over to Mia’s house first thing in the morning. His goal was to be at the hospital the moment visiting hours started. That way, he could get in and see Reggie before the police did something outrageous—like arrest the kid. After all, Reggie was his one link to finding Dylan. Plus, he liked the kid. Even if Reggie had been in trouble in the past, Jackson had trouble wrapping his head around the idea that he might be involved with drugs. He’d never seemed the type.
Although, in the past few days, Jackson had seen that this new drug was sinking its teeth into the heart of Renegade.
He also wanted to get to the hospital because Reggie probably had no idea that his mother was there recovering from a bullet wound. It was possible that whoever had shot her was also the one who had taken Dylan. Jackson felt certain that his brother had been the victim of foul play. He just hoped and prayed they could find him before it was too late. He refused to consider that they might have already crossed that line.
He pulled into Mia’s driveway and parked behind an unfamiliar vehicle. It wasn’t Mia’s, and he didn’t think she’d had time to get a rental after hers was wrecked. So much had happened in the past few days that his head was spinning, but he had Mia back in his life, and it seemed as though she might be renewing her relationship with the Lord. Plus, they were closer to finding Dylan than they had been so far.
Whoever she’d found to watch Gus must be the owner of the car.
When he knocked on the door, he nearly fell over in shock. Carol Turner—Mia’s mother—stared back at him.
Her hair, the same dark brown as Mia’s, had been cut in fashionable waves to frame her oval face. Her dark eyes were the same color as Mia’s too, but didn’t hold Mia’s sparkle. She wore a light-yellow sundress and a matching short-sleeve jacket and looked like she was on her way to a garden-club meeting. He had only ever met her once before, years ago, when he’d come to see Mia. Her parents had been there. Blaine Turner had treated him like he was some kind of insect he wanted to step on. Carol hadn’t said anything, but Jackson had felt certain she, too, looked down on him.
“Jackson Stewart.” Her soft voice reminded him of Mia’s. “I remember meeting you once.”
He nodded. She hadn’t said a word back then. “Mrs. Turner.”
