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Jonah didn’t look convinced. “I still don’t like leaving you alone,” he grumbled. “But Mallory’s due date is next week so I should head home. Promise you’ll call if you need me?”
“Yes. And I’ll give you the address to my uncle’s cabin, too.” Nick rattled off the address as Jonah punched it into his phone.
Soon, they were back on the road. Nick had managed to wrap gauze around his arm, which helped stop the bleeding. Jonah insisted on leaving the first-aid kit with them, and Rachel accepted it gratefully, knowing that as soon as they’d reached the cabin, she’d need to do a better job of cleaning up Nick’s wound.
She stayed in the backseat with Joey, unwilling to leave him there alone. As Nick’s car ate up the miles, crossing over the Illinois/Wisconsin state line, she closed her eyes and clutched her son’s hand, wondering if their life would ever be normal again.
* * *
Nick glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove, noticing that Rachel had fallen asleep. He was glad she was getting some rest, but Joey, however, was still wide-awake. Dusk was already darkening the sky, and Nick’s goal was to make it to the cabin well before nightfall.
“Are you doing okay back there?” he asked softly, trying not to disturb Rachel.
Joey nodded, although his gaze seemed troubled. “The bad man isn’t going to come after me again, is he?”
Nick’s heart lurched at the panic in Joey’s young voice. No matter what happened, the poor kid was going to have nightmares about the kidnapping for a long time to come. He made a mental note to discuss with Rachel the need for Joey to get counseling.
He didn’t want to lie to the boy, but he didn’t want the child to live in fear, either. He chose his words carefully. “The reason I’m taking you and your mom to the cabin is to keep you safe from the bad man,” he said finally. “I’ve already called my boss and asked him to put out an arrest warrant for the bad man, too. Once he’s in jail he won’t be able to hurt you or your mom any more.”
Joey nodded and seemed to relax at that explanation. “I’m glad you’re a police detective,” he said.
Nick caught the boy’s gaze in the rearview mirror and flashed him a warm smile. “Me, too.” He paused, before asking, “Joey, you mentioned you were in a basement room with a mattress, a toilet and a locked door. Do you remember anything else? Anything that might help the police track down the bad man?”
Joey’s lower lip trembled as if he might burst out sobbing. And as if she instinctively knew her son was upset, Rachel woke up. “Joey? What’s wrong?”
“I c-can’t remember anything else,” he stuttered. “I couldn’t see because the bad man put a black hood over my head!”
Nick winced when Rachel glared at him. “You don’t have to remember anything, sweetie,” she said gently, daring Nick to disagree. “I don’t want you to worry about the bad man anymore. All that matters is that you’re safe here with me. We’re going to make sure nothing happens to you, okay?”
“Okay,” Joey mumbled.
He sighed and dropped the touchy subject. He didn’t want to upset Joey, but at the same time, they needed to know what, if anything, the boy remembered.
Maybe once they reached the cabin, Joey would relax enough to open up about his ordeal. Refusing to discuss what happened wasn’t going to help Rachel’s son get over what happened.
But talking through the events just might.
He didn’t voice his opinion though. Instead, he concentrated on trying to remember the route to his uncle’s cabin. The farther north he drove, the more the temperature dropped. There was evidence of a recent light snow, although nothing deep enough to worry about. He hadn’t been to Uncle Wally’s cabin in the past year, since his uncle had passed away, leaving the cabin to his mother. And since Nick’s parents had chosen to retire in Florida last year, he doubted anyone had been up there since he and Wally had been there the summer before his uncle’s passing.
Nick’s wife and daughter had enjoyed spending time up there, too. He smiled remembering how Sophie had laughed as she played in the fallen leaves. For the first time, remembering his family didn’t cause his heart to ache. He’d treasure every moment they had together.
He forced his attention on his surroundings. Twice he had to backtrack, because the area looked so different from what he remembered. But then he caught sight of the red fire sign with the numbers 472 and knew he’d found it. The gravel driveway was barely visible between towering evergreen trees, and so completely overgrown with brush and weeds that he only went far enough to make sure the car was out of sight from the road, before shutting off the engine.
