Cold Case Recruit by Jennifer Morey Page A

withdrawal mode. That had worked to get him by this past year, but it was time to start pulling him out. Maybe she’d allowed him to cope in his own way too long. She’d been racked with her own heartache and consumed with finding Noah’s killer.
    She went to the bed and sat beside him.
    “What’s the matter?” She rubbed his back. “Talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”
    He bobbed his feet against the mattress.
    “Junior?”
    At last he lifted his head and his anger burst free. “Daddy’s coming home and you’re acting like he’s not!”
    How had seeing her with Brycen made him come to that conclusion? He’d seen her with Noah. Maybe the show of intimacy, however innocent, had reminded him of that. He thought Brycen would take his place. Her heart sank with pity and love. How could she make him understand?
    Continuing to rub his back, she said, “I thought you liked Brycen.”
    Junior lowered his head again. “I do.”
    “What, then?”
    He bobbed his feet harder. After thinking it over in his troubled mind, he looked up at her, still fiery with emotion. “He’s not my daddy and I don’t want him to be!”
    “He won’t be, honey. Nobody can take the place of your father.”
    “Daddy’s coming back. He doesn’t belong here!”
    “You don’t mean that. Brycen does belong here.” Sliding her hand from his back, she touched his arm. She needed to get his attention, to calm his temper. Make him understand. She berated herself for not sitting down with him before now and having a very frank talk. She’d explained about Noah, that he wouldn’t be coming back because someone had hurt him badly and he had to go to heaven. How did a mother explain to her child that someone had actually murdered his dad? Killed him dead? She didn’t have the heart to then and still didn’t. But she had to.
    Junior knew people died, but somewhere along the way he’d let his imagination take over. Denial made it easier.
    “Junior, your daddy isn’t coming home. I’ve told you that.”
    “Yes, he is!” He jumped up off the bed and faced her. “He’s coming back! You just don’t want him to!”
    Drury reached out and took each of his hands. “It’s time you accept the fact that your father has passed away.”
    “No, he hasn’t!” He jerked his hands away.
    She took them again and pulled him to her. She brought him against her and held him. “You have to stop imagining he’s still alive, honey.” She could feel him begin to breathe heavier as anger gave way to sadness and he fought tears.
    “I’m so sorry.” She had to fight her own tears. Seeing him this way tore at her soul. “He was killed, Junior. He’s dead.” She leaned back and held his face between her hands. “Do you understand what that means? He can’t come back to us. As much as we want him to, he isn’t coming back. Not ever.”
    “Stop it! No!” He batted his tiny hands on her upper chest.
    She took his hands in hers to still them.
    “He’s coming back!” he yelled right at her face.
    Drury held on to her resolve. “Do you know what it means when someone dies?”
    “Daddy’s not dead.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, breaking her heart even more. “Dead people are in graveyards.”
    “Yes, that’s true. Remember his funeral? That was at a graveyard.”
    Crying from deep within but not sobbing, he looked forlorn and empty. She could barely take seeing him like this. Taking him into her arms again, she simply held him. “I’m so sorry.”
    Maybe, after a long year of silence and confusion, of incomprehensible disbelief, he’d finally broken through. This meltdown might have released pent-up grief, grief a young boy had not understood. Otherwise, he would have told her. Junior before Noah’s death had been talkative and loud and full of play. He liked lazy mornings when they’d make dinner instead of breakfast and watch movies until midafternoon. When he had homework he did it with enthusiasm. At school he did well and