CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sienna paused outside the home of George and Joyce Brighton, feeling an unusual amount of nerves rushing through her limbs at the possibility of the upcoming conversation.

Lord, please guide our words. Guard this couple’s heart. Give us wisdom.

The couple lived in a small house with white vinyl siding and badly neglected flower beds that had probably been beautiful at one time, based on the landscaping layout. Now they were overrun with weeds—a byproduct of trauma? Most likely.

The sun was still in the sky, but it was starting to sink lower. Another day was almost coming to an end. It was hard to believe how much had changed so quickly. How in the blink of an eye Sienna’s life had been turned into a living, breathing nightmare.

There was so much at stake here, Sienna reminded herself. Not just for her and Colby, but for this couple they were about to talk to. She and Devin had to be careful not to get the Brightons’ hopes up—not until they knew for sure what was going on.

“You ready for this?” Devin asked, touching her elbow lightly.

His touch sent a wave of reassurance through her. Funny how quickly she’d already begun to depend on him.

Sienna nodded, even though she didn’t really know for sure. She just had to get this over with.

Devin rang the bell, and a moment later a couple in their midforties appeared. Both looked confused at their arrival, but Sienna and Devin hadn’t wanted to announce themselves before coming. No, Devin said they should get a gut reaction from the couple, and she was going to have to trust him on this. Warning them seemed so much kinder.

“Can we help you?” Joyce asked.

Sienna recognized her from the photos of the couple she’d scoped out online. Joyce was tall with light brown hair that had been peppered with white strands. She had circles under her eyes that made her look older than her forty-four years.

Sienna wondered if Joyce had always looked this worn down or if grief had aged her too quickly. She’d guess it was losing her child that had done it.

“I’m Devin Matthews, special agent with the Denver office of the FBI. Could we have a minute of your time?”

“We were just sitting down to eat dinner,” George said, a wary look in his eyes. “But, yes, come inside.”

George also looked like his online photos. He was tall and thin with about ten pounds of extra weight in his stomach. He had long sideburns and thinning reddish-brown hair on the top of his head.

Devin and Sienna stepped into a cozy home. The inside wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and tidy. The scent of garlic lingered in the air, and Sienna would guess the couple had been about to eat some kind of Italian meal.

Sienna sucked in a deep breath when she saw the photos on the wall beside her.

Photos of a baby. Photos of a happy Joyce and George holding the boy. In one picture they were at the park and the boy was in a baby swing. In another, the Rocky Mountains stood majestically behind all three of them. Another was taken at a studio with a gray background. They all looked so happy in each of the photos.

Sienna’s heart twisted with grief. These people had been through so much.

Lord, help us not to get their hopes up, not to later dash them. So much could go wrong here.

Her stomach squeezed hard with dread.

“Would you like to have a seat?” Joyce motioned to the couch.

“I’d hate for your food to get cold,” Devin said. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat?”

“We can reheat it. I don’t think I could right now if I wanted to.” Joyce wrung her hands together, obviously nervous. “Please, have a seat.”

Devin and Sienna sat beside each other on the couch, while George and Joyce sat in wing-back chairs across from them. Their expressions had an apprehensive look, as if they were nervous and their minds fought worst-case scenarios.

“What’s going on? Is this about Liam? Is he…” George’s voice broke.

He was afraid they were going to tell him they’d found a body, wasn’t he?

Sienna’s regret churned harder.

“We haven’t found any bodies,” Devin said, snapping into professional mode. “Let me just stop that thought right there. We don’t know if this pertains to Liam at all. I’m working another case, and I had a few questions about what happened.”

Joyce’s hand covered her mouth. “Oh no. Please tell me another child wasn’t taken.”

“Ma’am, please don’t become alarmed. At this point, I’m just asking questions and gathering information.”

George squeezed Joyce’s hand as she nodded. “Of course.”

Devin pulled in a long, deep breath. Sienna could tell this was hard for him since he’d dealt with loss himself. He knew how grief worked. How it could change people.

“I’ve read the reports on what happened, Mr. and Mrs. Brighton,” Devin said. “But I’d still like to hear for myself what happened. Would that be okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Joyce said. “Where should I start?”

“Tell me about the moment you realized your son was gone.” Devin’s words stretched across the room.

Sienna held her breath as she waited for the couple to respond. She couldn’t even imagine what they’d gone through—a parent’s worst nightmare. And to still have no answers only extended that nightmare. It had to be unbearable.

The couple glanced at each other, volumes spoken between them—volumes that heartache had created and forged. The landscape of their lives had been irrevocably changed.

“I woke up in the morning and got ready for work, just like I always do,” Joyce said. “Liam was a sleeper. He’s always liked his naps.”

Colby was a good sleeper also. Was that just a coincidence? Sienna tried to reserve her opinion, but that was proving to be difficult so far. She felt certain that Colby was their child.

“When it was time to wake him up, I went into his room. I moved his blanket, thinking he was beneath it. But, deep inside, I knew something was wrong from the moment I woke up that morning. The crib was empty.” Joyce’s voice broke as she covered her mouth.

“Was there any sign of forced entry?” Devin asked.

George swung his head back and forth. “No. None. And we didn’t hear a thing that night.”

“Who else had a key to your place?” Devin continued.

“No one,” Joyce said. “We moved here three years ago without any family or anyone else in the area. I suppose we’re slow to trust people.”

Strange. How had someone gotten in? Had the intruder picked the lock? It seemed like a possibility. How else would you explain it?

“Do you work, Joyce?” Devin asked. “I’m just gathering information so I can put the whole picture together. I know it may seem irrelevant, but it’s not.”

“I do. I’m a nurse. George is an electrician. Unfortunately, we both have to work in order to pay for housing in this area.”

“And where did Liam go while you were at work?”

“He went to a day care,” Joyce said. “A good one—one of the best in the area, for that matter.”

Devin nodded. “Are you involved with a church or anything else where people may have seen or interacted with Liam?”

“We did just start going to a church around that time, but we weren’t involved.” Joyce grabbed a tissue and balled it in her hands—just in case she needed it, it appeared. “We’d only gone twice before Liam disappeared, and we kept Liam with us during the services. I liked to be with him as much as I could. In fact, it broke my heart to leave him at day care, but we had little choice.”

“I can imagine,” Sienna said.

“At least it was only for two days a week,” Joyce continued. “I was able to adjust my work schedule, even though it meant George and I didn’t see each other as much. But to answer your original question, no. There’s no one at church or at the day care who could be a suspect.”

“Good to know,” Devin said.

“We wanted a baby so badly but couldn’t have one,” George explained, his face and voice tight with emotion. “We went through in vitro. It didn’t work. We tried to adopt. It fell through. And then, just when we’d given up, we found out we were pregnant. It was such a blessing from God. And then it was ripped away from us.”

A cry escaped from Joyce, and George put his arm around her.

Sienna glanced at Devin and saw the compassion on his face.

She’d underestimated the man. There was a lot more to him than she’d ever imagined.

Then again, tragedy was a great teacher of compassion.

“I’m sorry to you both,” Devin said. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

“Do you have a lead, Agent Matthews?” George asked, his voice catching.

“I wouldn’t call it a lead,” Devin said. “But we’re looking into another case. We came across some research from a reporter named Lisa Daniel.”

Joyce’s eyes lit. “Lisa? I’ve been trying to get in touch with her.”

“So you do know her?” Devin’s voice lilted with curiosity.

“She contacted us about three weeks ago,” George said. “She said she wanted to do a story on Liam’s kidnapping. She did an extensive interview with us about it. Last time we talked to her, she said she had a lead she wanted to explore, and she was supposed to be in touch.”

“Did she say anything else?” Devin asked, hope growing in his voice.

“No, she didn’t. She promised to call us with an update, but we never heard from her.” Joyce stared at them with wide eyes. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“We don’t know, but we’re looking into her disappearance.” Devin pulled out his phone and found a picture there. “Mr. and Mrs. Brighton, have you ever seen this woman before?”

Joyce gasped. “That’s Ruth. She worked at Liam’s day care. But she left a month before he disappeared. Said she had to move back home to take care of her mother, who was having surgery. Hip replacement.”

All the blood seemed to leave Sienna’s face until all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears.

Ruth?

Was Anita not a victim of abuse at all? Was she really a kidnapper living under an assumed identity instead?

How could Sienna have been so blind?