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come running. When I
first heard the report, I thought of your son here.”
“But he’s okay.” I knew this because I had
already checked on him.
He nodded. “Sam, the boy was kidnapped from
your son’s old room.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your son, from what I understand, was
recently moved from ICU to immediate care.” I wasn’t following but
he continued on. “Another boy took your son’s room. Within thirty
minutes, he was gone.”
“Oh, my God.”
Through the closed doors, I could hear
someone barking an order. A child was crying somewhere. In fact,
many children were crying.
Sweet Jesus. What was going on?
Sherbet went on, “The parents were down in
the cafeteria getting some coffee and preparing for another
all-nighter when they got the news.”
“Were there any witnesses?” My voice sounded
hollow and distant.
“Oh, yeah. A man comes in claiming to be an
uncle. Charming, smooth as hell, apparently. Says everything right.
Front desk lets the bastard right in. Same with the nurses up here.
Against protocol left and right. Heads will roll. Yet these same
people don’t remember letting the guy in. I don’t understand any of
it.”
“They don’t remember letting him, but they
let him in?”
“Something like that.”
“As in no memory of doing it?”
“Right.” Sherbet frowned at me. The muscles
of his forearm continued to undulate.
“What happened next?”
“You’ll never believe it.”
“Try me,” I said.
“Better I show you.”
He led me out of the break room and over to
the room I was so familiar with, the same room my son had occupied
for the past few days. Except now there was something vastly
different about the room.
The entire window was missing.
Chapter Thirty-three
Sherbet said, “A minute or two after stepping
into the room, the nurses heard what sounded like an explosion.
When they rushed in to investigate, the boy was gone and the window
was broken.”
I was speechless. Beyond speechless. I
couldn’t formulate words. All I wanted to do was run to my son
again and check on him, to hold him close and protect him
forever.
What the hell was happening?
“For the love of God, Sam, what’s going
on?”
“I don’t know, Detective, I swear—” I stopped
when a disturbing image came to mind. “What did the man look
like?”
“Tall. Caucasian. Dressed in slacks and a
blazer. A blue blazer—Sam, what’s wrong?”
“Just go on,” I said. I had braced myself
against the wall. Although I had little use for my lungs, they
suddenly felt constricted, as if an anaconda had curled around my
chest and was squeezing, squeezing. “Was he wearing anything
else?”
Detective Sherbet was watching me
closely.
“A bow tie,” he said.
“Oh, shit.”
“What do you know, Sam? Dammit, what the
hell’s going on here?”
“He was following me today.”
“Who was following you today?”
“The man with the bow tie.”
Sherbet blinked. “If he was following you,
then why in the devil would he kidnap the boy?”
“The man was after Anthony, I think.”
“Sweet Jesus, Sam.”
“And got the wrong boy. He was just a few
minutes too late.”
“Why would he want your son?”
“He’s trying to get to me.”
“Who’s trying to get to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why does he want you?”
That I did know. Or, at least, I suspected I
knew. “I have something he wants.”
“Who is he, Sam? And dammit, don’t tell me
you don’t know. You know something. I can feel it. You’re holding
back and now is not the time to hold back. There’s a sick little
boy out there who needs immediate medical attention, who’s
terrified and possibly hurt.”
Sherbet had a son of his own, about the same
age as Anthony, in fact. I thought about how Sherbet had been such
a good friend to me. I also thought about how he was so close to
the truth. To my secret. I looked into his eyes now. His
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