Page 41 of Ultimate Justice

“Fast most of the time. When we started out, we were going really fast.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The speed limit was really high.”

“How high?” Evan took another lick of his cone.

“Eighty,” Noah said without hesitation.

Evan twisted in his seat. Every nerve ending in his body jumped to attention. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He nodded. “I saw the sign.”

“The speed limit sign?” Another nod. Before he let his brain take off in the direction it needed to go, he had to verify something. “You said you were hiding in the back of the truck, right?” Taking another lick of his cone, Noah nodded. “Then how did you see the sign?”

“Through the opening between the pieces of wood.”

“You mean the wood railing? Like the kind people added to pickup trucks so they could load more into the bed?”

“Yeah. Through the railing.”

“Why is this important?” Marlie asked.

“Because there are no eighty-mile-per-hour speed limit signs in the entire state of Colorado.” This time, he did let his brain take off. “Noah said it took about two hours to get from the camp to the farmers market, and if they started out doing eighty miles an hour, they could have started in only one place. Wyoming.” The possible location of the camp had just been narrowed down in a big, big way.

He cranked the Yukon in reverse.

Based on Noah’s recollection and the location of the farmers market, he’d bet a month’s salary they’d started in Wyoming, then headed south on I-25 directly to the farmers market, which was located right off the same highway. “Tomorrow, we’re heading north. To Wyoming.”

Chapter Twelve

Kicks were in, and the Colorado Mills mall had more sneaker and shoe outlet stores than Marlie could count.

As was typical for a Sunday, the mall was slow to pack up. The aisles were still passable without knocking into someone. Mouthwatering smells from the Cinnabon counter in the food court wafted their way, making her stomach rumble, and no wonder. It was lunchtime.

At ten-fifteen that morning, she’d received a message from Evan saying he’d be late and would text again when he was on his way. By eleven, she’d given up on him. Maybe he didn’t take her guardianship duties to heart, but she did. Allowing Noah to go to school without basic supplies and dressed in clothes that didn’t fit him wasn’t going to happen.

“Can I get these?” Noah pressed a finger on the window, much as he’d been doing at every sneaker store they’d passed.

“Which ones?” She set the two shopping bags on the floor, praying he didn’t have his heart set on the most expensive sneakers in the display—the black Nike Air Jordans with the white Swoosh.

“The black Air Jordans.” He gave her a smile that was halfway to a grimace, as if he expected her to shut him down. “Pleeease?”

She glanced at the bags loaded with jeans, shirts, sweatshirts, a jacket and gloves, plus other essentials, and they had yet to hit Target for school supplies. Eventually, the State would provide her with a stipend for things Noah would need. For now, everything came from her own pocket. But every time they’d bought something he wanted, the happiness on his face was worth the cost. She couldn’t have said no to him any more than she would have turned down a massage for her aching feet.

“Okay.” She sighed, picking up the heavy bags. I am such a sucker. “Let’s go try them on.”

Noah spun and practically ran inside the store so quickly Marlie could only shake her head. Last night, she’d checked on him after he’d fallen asleep. Like the previous night, he’d slept but tossed and turned, hugging the pillow to his chest. If a pair of cool sneakers was what it took to bring a smile to his face and the positive attitude change she’d witnessed in the last few days, that was the only stipend she needed.

Minutes later, he slipped into a brand-new pair of Nikes and sprinted down the aisle on a test run. “Don’t run in the store!” she called after him, knowing her warning fell on deaf ears. Sadly, he’d probably outgrow them within the year. Aiden had been growing like a weed when—

She stiffened, waiting for the inevitable, gut-wrenching sob that usually accompanied the awful reality her little boy would never try on another pair of sneakers. The sob didn’t come. It was there, all right, but didn’t escape her lips. The all-consuming sadness that had become as much a part of her everyday existence as breathing was also still there, just not quite as much.

Noah rounded the shelves, breathing heavily. His cheeks were pink, and there was a brightness in his eyes to go with the ear-to-ear smile coming more easily every day. “Can I have them?”

“Yes.” Definitely a sucker. “You can have them.”

Noah did a hearty fist pump. “Yesss!”