Page 46 of Ultimate Justice

“Uh.” She cleared her throat, letting her hands fall to her sides. Maybe she shouldn’t have latched on to him like a koala hugging a tree. “He’s in his room.”

“Are you sure it was Manello?” Evan asked.

She nodded. “Yes. I remember the driver’s license photo you showed us. It was definitely h—”

Noah had come into the living room. His face was ashen. In one hand, he held a baseball mitt.

“What’s wrong?” She rushed to him. “Where did you get that mitt?”

“It was on my bed. It’s mine.”

Evan knelt in front of Noah. “What do you mean it’s your mitt? I thought you left your mitt at the camp.”

Noah swallowed. “I did. This is my mitt.” He turned it over. Scrawled in faded blue ink was his name. Noah Lund. “This was inside.” He handed Evan a small white note card.

Marlie read the typed words, and her throat went dry.

Keep quiet, or Caleb will suffer.

…

Evan curled his hand into a fist. Slamming it into the wall was the only thing that would curb his temper ready to blow like a volcano. At least Noah and Marlie hadn’t been here when Manello had broken in. “Put the mitt on the coffee table. Don’t touch it again.”

The kid managed a barely perceptible nod. The look of terror on his face and the one of supreme worry on Marlie’s were knife strikes to his heart. She obviously blamed herself, but she shouldn’t. Ultimately, this was his fault. In more ways than one.

Today, he’d gotten so tied up at the office, he’d never gotten back to her. And yesterday, there must have been a tail from the farmers market to her apartment building, and he’d missed it. Missed it because he’d been having too much fun letting himself enjoy the time with Marlie and Noah.

He’d fucked up. Royally.

“What are you going to do?” Marlie urged Noah to the sofa and sat down with him.

Blue nudged his way between the table and sofa, resting his head on Noah’s lap.

“Deck, can you get a forensic team here ASAP? I want this entire place dusted for prints.” It was a longshot, but protocol had to be followed and Manello—or whoever broke in—could have been sloppy. Given his burglary prior, he was betting on Manello.

“You got it.” Deck pulled a phone from his back pocket.

“Brett, check with the Lakewood PD substation at the mall. See where they’re at with the cameras in front of Target.”

“On it.” Brett’s phone was already in his hand.

Turning back to Marlie and Noah, he said, “Try not to touch anything else. Someone’s coming to check for fingerprints. They’ll want to take both of yours, so they can single out whoever broke in.”

His heart had finally slowed enough to let him think straight. After getting Marlie’s call he’d grabbed Brett and Deck, then hauled ass here. Lakewood PD had raced to the mall parking lot, not finding Marlie’s truck or any sign of Manello.

“It’s not safe here,” he said, looking from Marlie to Noah. “For either of you.” Knowing how easily someone had broken in, he wasn’t about to leave them here. The question was where to take them. The agency might spring for a safehouse. He glanced at his watch. One o’clock. As Noah stroked Blue’s ears, the stiffness in the kid’s body slowly started to ease.

“I don’t want to go to Wyoming,” Noah said, still petting Blue.

“I agree.” Marlie nodded. “It’s too dangerous to take him up there.”

“I don’t want Caleb to get hurt because of me,” Noah added without looking up.

“Listen to me.” Evan knelt on the other side of the table. “Whatever happens to Caleb and those other kids, that’s not on you. Do you understand? That’s not. On. You. Don’t ever think any of this is your fault.”

It was on him. From the moment he’d broken down the door to Manello’s basement to find Noah and those photos, responsibility for the lives of those other children fell squarely on his shoulders.

He was torn. He liked Noah and wished he could say they didn’t have to go to Wyoming, but they did. It was the only way, and there was still no guarantee they’d ever find the camp. Sammy’s property lookup would help narrow down where they should search first. All he’d need was for Noah to ID the place from the outside, not to go in. He’d never risk the boy’s life that way.