Chapter Six

The sun shined brightly overhead, and a cool early autumn breeze blew onto the patio, bringing with it the scent of pumpkin spice latte from the café.

"Did you see Noah last night?" Tish asked, then took a sip of her coffee.

Marlie nodded. "Yes." He'd talked. She hadn't.

"How did he take the news? Is he excited to be staying with you?"

"I haven't told him yet." Coward that she was.

"Why in the world not?" Tish rested her forearms on the café table. "The board agreed to let you use all your vacation time at once. That's more than two weeks. If it takes longer, your job will still be here."

Crap. The last of her excuses for not becoming Noah's legal guardian—even temporarily—had just blown away on the wind. She'd been counting on the board declining Tish's request.

Slowly, she began shaking her head. "I'm not sure I can do this, after all."

"Then why are you here? You said you were meeting that agent at ten o'clock." She looked at her watch. "It's nine forty-five. Why aren't you hopping in your truck and hauling ass?"

Marlie glanced to where she'd parked June Bug, her 1956 Ford F-100. Tish's suggestion had her leg muscles twitching with the urge to hop into June Bug and punch it down the street before McGarry showed up.

The man was very persuasive, knowing just what things to touch on that could make her abandon the safety of her invisible world. The children. Their parents. If she could do something to help safeguard even one child and prevent their parents from having to endure the horrors she had, it was finally time she got off her sorry ass and did it. And how could she abandon Noah?

She stared into her coffee, part of her still wishing she were somewhere else. Anywhere else. "I'm scared."

"I know that." Tish leaned closer and clasped Marlie's hand. "We've talked about this. Maybe it's time to shake things up a little."

She sighed, sounding pathetically weary even to herself. "Even if Agent McGarry does, by some miracle, manage to work his legal magic, I don't have space for Noah. I live in a tiny, two-bedroom apartment with only one bed, a sofa, and an old futon."

Tish sat back with a huff . "Then I'll tell Noah he'll be staying at Kids Corner until child services can find him a new foster family. You could still be with him when the FBI wants to talk to him again."

"I know."

Last night, she'd been on her computer for hours, digging up every state inspection report and review she could find on Kids Corner, the Colorado Springs facility Noah would have to stay at if she didn't go through with the FBI's plan. The thought of him being stuck in a home, even one with as good of a reputation as Kids Corner, had left her feeling so miserable she'd barely eaten a thing since lunch yesterday. In angry protest, her stomach growled.

"You have to decide soon," Tish said. "Kids Corner is picking him up today at one."

"What?" She straightened, bumping the table and sloshing coffee from her cup. "No, they can't! I need more time." Or did she? Not really. No. She didn't want him to go there. Somehow, the realization had come to her with decided clarity. "I don't want him to go to a home, but how can I care for another child when I couldn't even safeguard my own? God, Tish. What am I doing ?"

Tish paused a beat before answering, then smiled. "Making the decision to live again."

A dark red Expedition parked at the curb in front of June Bug in the zone that said, No Parking Here to Corner . A man stepped out, so tall that his head was visible over the roof of the SUV.

FBI Special Agent Evan McGarry.

"He's here," she whispered, watching him round the hood, a phone pressed to his ear. Seemed like he did that a lot, like it was another appendage.

"He certainly is." Tish smirked. "He's even hunkier than I remembered."

"If you say so." Liar . She'd noticed, all right. Even in her distraught frame of mind the other night, it had been impossible not to see how handsome the man was.

"I do say that. Trust me. You just haven't thought of men since the divorce. Maybe it's time to change that, too."

Still talking into the phone, Agent McGarry stepped onto the curb. If she was going to bail, now was the time, but she couldn't look away.

He wore the same kind of clothes he'd worn two nights ago—black cargo pants and a black long-sleeve shirt with a gold badge embroidered on his chest, a very broad, thickly muscled one at that. His shirt sleeves were shoved up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms, and the same mean-looking holstered gun was strapped to his belt.

Other people—women and men—sitting at the other tables turned their heads. Okay, so Tish was right. The guy wasn't hard on the eyes. It was like watching a living, breathing museum sculpture, one with a cell phone glued to its ear.

A frown creased his forehead, then he stuffed the phone in his back pocket and reached for the rear passenger door. McGarry's German shepherd, Blue, leaped out just as the agent hooked a leash on the dog's collar. Even the man's dog was big.

He started toward them, pausing a few seconds to give June Bug a once-over. Her old pickup tended to garner attention wherever it was parked.

"Ms. Foxe. Ms. Torres." He remained standing, forcing Marlie to crane her neck. Blue wagged his tail, nosing her hand until she gave his head a pat. "I have something for you." He tugged two sets of folded papers from his thigh pocket, handing each of them a set. "You've been granted temporary legal guardianship of Noah Lund. Thirty days, with an option to extend as needed."

"But I didn't sign anything." Her hand trembled as she took the papers. When he'd said expedite, she hadn't really believed him. "I haven't even been interviewed."

"I told you this case is a priority." He pointed to one of the vacant chairs, and Blue hopped up, seating himself like a person. "The judge understood the need for exigency. And," he added with the hint of a smile that softened the sculpted leanness of his features, "I vouched for you."

"How could you vouch for me? You don't even know me." Oh God . Of course, he did. He was the FBI. In the last two days, he'd done his homework. Which meant… He knew everything .

"Thank you," Tish said as she began reading the documents.

Marlie stared at the folded sheets, half expecting them to lash out and bite her. To her surprise, McGarry didn't say anything else. Somehow, he knew there was a lot more to this than just paperwork, and he was letting her make the final decision. Once she did, there was no going back.

In his gaze was patience and an unexpected gentleness. She lost track of how many seconds ticked by. Finally, she took a deep, supremely unsteady breath. She unfolded the documents and started to read what McGarry was offering.

Guardianship of an eleven-year-old boy.

…

"That would be my cue to leave." Latisha Torres smiled as she picked up her cup and stood. "I'll let Kids Corner know not to send anyone for Noah. You can come for him in a couple of hours. That should be enough time to finalize his discharge papers."

Marlie had worn her hair loose, unbraided. Fine wisps of blond hair fluttered around her face and shoulders. The long-sleeve blue shirt she wore matched her eyes. She nodded, mumbling her thanks and pressing her lips together so tightly the skin around them whitened. She was anxious, and he understood why.

She'd accepted the papers. That didn't mean this was easy on her, and he admired the guts it must have taken to come to this decision. Part of him still felt guilty for railroading her into this. The other part of him—the one determined to find his sister and the camp—didn't.

"Everything's going to be fine. It will all work out. You'll see," Latisha said, and gave Marlie's shoulder a squeeze, then headed down the sidewalk in the direction of the hospital.

The gentle words and kind gesture told him the women were not only personal friends, but the hospital administrator knew about Marlie's tragic history.

"You okay?" He sat in the vacated chair. Blue lifted his paw and rested it on Marlie's forearm, uttering a soft woof . "Blue, down. I've told you before, buddy, we don't infringe on someone's personal space unless they ask us to." Groaning, Blue removed his paw and set it on the table. "Sorry, he picks up on peoples' emotions and tries to help. He's like a canine shrink."

"It's okay. I like dogs." She patted his paw and was rewarded with another woof . "I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

"How exactly do I look?"

"Like you're about to be sick." Frankly, she did, and he was the cause. Indirectly. He was pushing her outside what had to be the normal, safe boundaries she'd erected around herself.

Man, she's one gutsy woman. And he was a dickhead.

She refolded the documents he'd given her. "What do you need me to do?"

"Is the hospital going to give you the time off?" She nodded. "Good." At least there was one thing he didn't feel like a total heel about. "Tomorrow morning, I want to start taking you and Noah to the Denver farmers markets."

She looked over his shoulder. "Okay."

"I also want to ask Noah more questions, see if he can remember details about what he saw and heard while he was at the camp."

"Fine," she responded, but her attention seemed to be on something behind him.

He turned to see a little girl around five years old meandering through the café tables, garnering smiles from everyone. A woman in her early twenties seated at one of the tables occasionally looked up from the phone she was texting on. The girl's mother, or maybe a babysitter.

When he turned back, a flash of anger shot from Marlie's narrowed eyes.

He adjusted his chair in time to see the girl wander onto the sidewalk toward a man getting out of his car.

Evan was half out of the chair, but Marlie beat him to it. Her chair toppled backward, crashing to the stone patio. Only then did the woman texting look up. Evan and Blue raced after Marlie.

She shot onto the sidewalk, taking the girl's arm and leading her back to the woman who'd been texting. "Is this your daughter?" she shouted.

"Yes. Thank you." She stood, cell phone still in hand. "You don't have to yell at me."

Marlie pointed at the woman's phone. "What is so important that you leave your child unattended? Did you know she was five feet from the road? She could have been hit by a car, but you wouldn't know because you're too busy texting."

The woman took the girl's hand and stood. "I—"

Evan positioned himself just behind Marlie, ready to jump in if needed.

"Did you know she was about to talk to a strange man?" Marlie's face had turned bright red. "Did you? No, you didn't. You couldn't, because your face was glued to your phone. She could have been kidnapped and—"

Marlie clapped both her hands over her mouth. Eyes that, only a moment ago, had been flashing with rage now widened in shock. She spun, fleeing to the sidewalk where she rested her hands on the hood of the antique F-100 he'd been admiring. Her chest heaved, and she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly.

The instinct to take her in his arms and hold her built steadily inside him, but he barely knew the woman. He rested a hand on her shoulder, wishing he could do more. After reading the background check on her the other day, he'd pulled up the FBI and local police reports on Aiden Parker. There was no doubt in his mind—she was reliving her past and what had happened to her son.

Blue sat next to Evan, and as Marlie's shoulders started to shake, his dog let out a sad whine and leaned his head against her thigh. When the floodgates opened, Evan couldn't stop himself.

Gently, he tugged her into his arms. Her body shook as she sobbed against his chest. People passing on the sidewalk eyed them with concern. The woman Marlie had lit into had wisely taken her daughter and walked in the opposite direction.

She continued trembling like a shaky tree limb in a windstorm. Fragile, subject to breaking, yet stronger than it looked. Her sobs finally subsided, and she fisted her hands against his chest.

"C'mon," he said, urging her to the Expedition. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in. After loading Blue into the kennel, he rounded the hood and got behind the wheel.

Marlie stared straight ahead through the windshield. His heart went out to her. For her loss, her strength, and her courage.

Blue stuck his head through the opening between the kennel and passenger compartment. He nuzzled Marlie's hair until she sifted her fingers into his thick ruff. Dr. Blue was taking his shrink duties to heart, a sure sign he liked her.

Her complexion was pale as she swiped at the last of her tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." If anything, he did. For putting her through this.

When she turned to look at him, all he could think was how beautiful she was. Some people really did ugly-cry. Not her. Wisps of blond hair framed her face, emphasizing the delicate cheek bones. Watery blue eyes reminded him of Caribbean shallows, and that sweet, warm, rose scent filled his nose.

Her lips trembled. "You know, don't you." She dug her fingers deeper into Blue's coat.

He nodded. "Yes." If she wanted to talk about it, he'd be her sounding board. If not, he'd respect her privacy.

She let her hands drop to her lap, staring at them. "It's been three years, but sometimes it seems like it happened only yesterday. I can still remember the exact moment when I couldn't find him. It was my fault. I glanced down at my phone, and when I looked up, he was gone. I thought it was only for a few seconds, but maybe it was more." She swallowed, then slowly began shaking her head. "When I saw that woman texting and completely ignoring her child, I just…lost it."

"It's understandable." He reached out to take her hand, then thought better of it. "Maybe what you said got through to her."

"I hope so. No mother should have to go through what I did." She turned to face him. "That's why I didn't want to work with you. After what happened, who am I to take care of a child again?"

"You may not agree, but that makes you the perfect guardian for Noah. Because you'll never let anything happen to him."

"Your faith in me may be misguided. I hope I don't disappoint you. Or Noah."

"You won't," he reassured her. "You're great with children."

"Used to be. A lifetime ago. At least it seems like a lifetime." She made a self-deprecating laugh. "Working with kids, helping them through life's difficult moments, was why I became a counselor."

Now he knew something else about Marlie Foxe. She was modest and humble. She could easily have thrown her psychology doctorate in his face.

"You were good with Noah," she said. "Do you have any kids?"

"No." The way his life was going, he probably never would. "The FBI sends me to a lot of training."

She nodded. "CARD-team training."

He wasn't surprised she knew about the FBI's CARD teams. Although it hadn't been assigned to him, he remembered the case involving her son and how it had ended. When they'd found Aiden's body in the woods.

"Why did you join the CARD teams? I can't imagine dealing with parents' grief every day of my life."

He shrugged. "It's not easy." It tore at his guts every time.

"Then why do you do it?"

They were working together now. If she wanted the truth, he'd give it to her. Part of it, anyway. He tugged the picture of Gracie from his wallet and handed it to her. "My twin sister, Grace. I do this because I never got closure. My parents never got closure. We probably never will." Closure wouldn't bring a child back, but it was one of the things that helped families move on. To a degree, at least.

Her jaw dropped, and she gasped. "Oh my God. How long ago?"

"Twenty-four years." And counting. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the Polaroid. Not only was it evidence, there was no need for her to know his own sister might be at the camp.

She handed him back the photo. "I guess we're both stuck in the past."

True that. He'd spent his entire adult life fixated on solving his sister's disappearance. Since the tragedy in Marlie's life, it was obvious she'd been living yet not living. Hypocrite that he was. Wasn't he doing the same thing? Sometimes, in a moment of absolute clarity, he wondered how much longer he could go on like this. Alone and with no one to share his life with. But this was the life he'd chosen, and he was stuck with it.

His cell phone buzzed. FBI Denver . "McGarry," he answered.

"It's Brett and Deck. You're on speaker."

"What've you got?" He tucked the phone between his shoulder and chin as he slipped the photo back into his wallet.

"We took a quick look at what forensics dumped from Manello's computer. There are more photos, twelve other kids. Some are closeup shots, like they were posing for school photos. Those file names have the kids' first names and ages and are dated about a year ago."

"That's good," he answered. "The teams can start searching for reports on missing kids by their first names."

"There's more," Deck said. "The other shots are of kids playing in their yards or at a park, like they don't even know they're being photographed. Those files are recent. They're dated last week, and they don't have names."

That wasn't good. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Like Noah had said, Manello was scouting for more kids to grab. "How many recent shots are there?"

"Six."

"I'll be back in the office in about an hour." He wanted to pore through every file forensics had downloaded, then brief the teams on what they learned.

"Hold on," Brett said. "I emailed you a document you should look at. Now."

"Stand by." He cued up his email and opened the file. It was a blank chart with column headings. Name, sex, age, delivery date, personal. This was an order form for children. Jesus .

He cranked the engine. "Don't wait for me. Give those photos to the teams and get them searching for missing child reports. Have them coordinate with the missing children's center."

Marlie reached for the door handle, but he stopped her. "I'll drive you to the hospital. It'll be faster that way, and I need to ask Noah more questions."

"Can't that wait until after I get him home and settled in?"

"No. It can't." He looked in the sideview mirror and pulled from the curb. Looked like Manello was actively on the hunt. Finding that camp fast was even more important now.

Marlie crossed her arms. "As his legal guardian now, it's my job to protect Noah."

Ignoring her outrage, he gunned the Expedition toward the hospital. "And it's my job to protect all children, including the ones Manello's about to grab." That took priority.

Over everything.