Zack essentially slept round the clock for the next thirty-six hours. He woke twice to pee, take a shot or two of whiskey, and head back to the bed in Dane’s spare room. At one point early on, he remembered McFatty and tossed the question out to his brother.
“We’ll see to him.”
Trusting it would be done, Zack had headed back to bed. On the third day, as he lounged against the headboard, staring at the black screen of the television sitting on the dresser, his mother entered the room.
“Charlie?” he croaked.
“He’s going to pull through,” Connie said with a smile.
“Good. That’s good.”
Tears crowded his mother’s blue eyes. “Zack, you need to shower and come eat.”
“I can’t eat anything. Not yet.”
“Will you at least shower and shave?”
He ran a hand over his whisker-laden jaw. “Yeah,” he said, making no move to get out of bed.
Connie moved from the doorway and perched on the edge of the mattress. “Judith was released while the D.A.’s office builds their case against her. She’s made a point of staying away from the hospital, refusing to see Charlie.
“She’s so filled with hate. I can’t believe she hasn’t been here to offer her condolences about Jacob and Erica. She—”
Zack held up a hand, cutting her off. “Mom, please. I couldn’t give two shits about Judith right now.”
“Zachary!” she gasped.
Sighing with regret, he lifted her hand to place a kiss on the palm. He offered a conciliatory smile which probably resembled more of a grimace. “Sorry. I just can’t do this, not yet. Please understand.”
“Don’t ask me to leave you alone. Seeing you hurting is killing me,” she said raggedly.
“That’s not going to change anytime soon,” he whispered, emotion clogging his throat.
And like she’d done when he’d been a small child, hurting over some unfortunate incident or accident, she hugged him. If she could ease his suffering and take away his pain, Zack was sure she would.
For the first time, Zack sobbed.
Three hours later, after a shower and change of clothes, Zack stepped into the dining room to join his family. Mason told him Shonda had left to pick up Erica’s parents at the airport. The idea of having to face her mother and father after being directly responsible for her death gnawed at his insides.
That his last words to her had been in anger because she’d wanted to leave and avoid the one person bent on destroying her created such self-hatred and anger, he wondered if he’d ever be able to recover.
He leaned a shoulder against the window frame, watching his family bustle about, setting out dishes of food. The thought of eating made him nauseous. Would he ever be hungry again? A slamming car door drew everyone’s attention.
“Shonda shouldn’t be back yet,” Mason stated, a frown marring his handsome face.
The ringing doorbell had them funneling down the hall to see who their visitor was.
Dane opened the door to admit Bucky and Officer Tidwell.
“Bucky, Marty, what’s up?” Zack asked.
“Zack, we’re sorry to disturb you at a time like this, but can we talk to you?”
He sent a sharp look Mason’s way.
“Sure. Right through here,” he said, leading the way to the living room. “What’s going on?”
“The coroner pulled DNA samples from the bodies found on the scene. We’d like to test yours against the boy they found.”
“Is that all? A phone call wouldn’t have sufficed?” Dane asked.
Heart thudding heavily, Zack leaned forward in his seat. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The two officers exchanged a speaking glance.
“Buck,” Zack growled.
“The DNA came back to a woman who’d been reported missing four months ago. We’re still waiting on that of the boy.”
Silence reigned as the implication sunk in. Erica was still alive. It could mean Jacob was as well.
“I can go to the hospital or to the station right now,” Zack told them.
“Actually, that’s the reason why Marty is here. He is part of our forensic science team. He brought the swab kit.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re saying the woman found in the ruins after the explosion was not Erica?” Connie asked.
“That is correct, Mrs. Sharp,” Bucky confirmed.
“So it is probable she is still alive. If that is the case, maybe my grandson is, too?”
“Yes.”
Connie started to cry. Zack jumped up to hold her close. “It’s a good thing, Mom.”
“I know. I just…” She shook her head, and he understood. No words were needed as hope flooded into the hearts and minds of the family. “I have to tell Charlie.”
“No!” Marty said, jerking upright. “We want to keep this under wraps for the moment.”
“But Charlie is Jacob’s grandfather. He has the right to know,” she protested.
“Mrs. Sharp, no one but those in this room can know we suspect the bodies belong to anyone other than Ms. Sutton and your grandson. It could hamper our investigation and alert Christie we are on to her deception. Do you understand?” He asked, not unkindly.
“Yes, but we can swear Charlie to secrecy,” she said, patting Zack’s chest and gazing at him for support.
“Marty’s right, Mom. We need to keep this under wraps until we find them. If Christie finds out, she might hurt them for real.”
“What about Erica’s parents and Shonda? They’ll be here any second.”
Zack cast a worried glance toward Marty. The smaller the circle, the more likely they were to keep the secret.
“I don’t think we should tell them, Mom,” Mason said.
“Mason! You can’t keep something like that from her parents or your girlfriend,” his mother said, shocked.
“Shonda’s not my girlfriend! For Christ’s sake, Ma.”
Those were the words the Suttons and Shonda walked in on. They all saw the immediate hurt on her face before she composed her features into a blank mask.
Mason rubbed the spot between his brows in agitation, and Shonda made an excuse to be on her way.
“Shonda, hold up,” Mason barked.
“I’m fine. It’s not like I haven’t known the score from the start. Take care of your family, Mason,” she said sharply before making good her escape.
“Goddammit!” he swore before following her out.
“Ohhh, he’s in big troublllle!” Dane joked.
Because the police department needed Zack’s DNA and because the Suttons were there to witness the exchange, they were told the truth after being sworn to secrecy and cautioned to appear as if they were in mourning at all times. No one knew if or when Christie might be observing them.
The lab agreed to rush the results on the child’s identification. Zack called and had the dental records forwarded to the police department. Within eight hours, the conclusion was that the male child found in the house hadn’t been Jacob.
For the second time in twenty-four hours, Zack cried. This time the tears were from relief. This time, Christie wouldn’t win. He intended to bring Jacob and Erica home.
That evening, as he replayed the day’s events while getting ready for bed, he remembered McFatty. Erica would kill him if something happened to her cat. He figured it was about time to go home anyway. Dane had been pretty tolerant of the invasion of his space.
Zack sought out his brother to let him know he intended to head home. He found him in the study sipping a glass of whiskey and staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace. A shudder rippled through him. He wasn’t sure he could look at fire now and not be reminded of Christie’s pyromaniac ways and all the damage she’d done in the name of love.
“You okay?” Dane asked without looking up.
He perched on the edge of a leather armchair. “I’m not sure. I’m better knowing they might be alive. Still, the uncertainty is driving me insane.”
“Yeah, well don’t be throwing the ‘I’ word around so readily,” Dane snorted without amusement.
“I hear ya. Dane? I wanted to thank you for the last few days.”
Sad blue eyes met Zack’s own. “You don’t have to thank me. Not for having your back.”
“I do. And apologize, as well. I’ve been a bit of an animal recently. You’ve never said a negative word. Thank you,” he said gruffly.
“You’re my brother, and I love you.” It was all that needed to be said. They both absorbed the impact of the words. They would do anything for one another.
“I’m going to head home tonight.”
“Why not wait until morning?”
“McFatty.”
Dane laughed as he always did when he heard the name of Erica’s ornery cat. “Do you suppose he’s mean because of the name?”
“He’s mean because cats are assholes,” Zack told him.
A chuckle was his response.
“But I’m sure the name didn’t help.”
“You don’t have to rush off. I actually picked up a feeder and one of those water fountain things so he should be good until morning.”
“What about the litter?”
“She set up one of those automatic scoopers. Those things are awesome.”
Zack toyed with the idea of having a few drinks with his brother, but gave into the feeling which had been nagging him all day. “I can’t explain it without sounding lame. It’s just something is telling me I should get home asap.”
Dane rose to his feet and set his glass on an end table. “Let’s go.”
“No, that didn’t mean you had to go with me, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“When has one of your inner voice warnings been nothing?” Dane asked, offering a hand and jerking him up. “If Mason had listened to you all those years ago, Melanie would probably be alive today. You told him something was off that day.”
“Yes. And when Erica’s house burned down, my first gut reaction had me comparing it to Christie’s handiwork. But believing she was dead, I thought I was just being paranoid.”
“Well, you know what Mom would say. ‘While your last name is Sharp, it’s the McAdams blood that runs through your veins.’”
Both brothers shared a grin. Their mother swore their McAdams ancestry was what made them great. She would tell tales about family members who all had a sixth sense or ‘the second sight’ all while the boys had been growing up. Connie had been the only adult who asked for Zack’s opinion on every major financial decision she’d made. That ninety-nine percent of the time it was correct, lent to her belief that her middle son had the family gift.
“Well, if anyone has the gift, it’s Josh,” Zack laughingly said, then sobered as he thought of his cousin who used to run the McAdams Pub here in town.
Josh’s wife and son had been missing for the last four months. When they’d been gone for only a week, he’d told the police he believed them to be dead. Law enforcement had interrogated him for days on end, thinking he’d harmed his family. After he’d been released, Josh stayed in a drunken stupor for approximately a month. On the first night he’d been sober, he’d been hit by a drunk driver while walking home. As far as he knew, Josh was still in a coma. His siblings, Derek and Rosalyn, now ran the bar.
They both said Josh’s wife’s name simultaneously. “Angela!”
Dane must have had come to the same conclusion at the same time. Reaching for his phone, Zack dialed Bucky.
“Hey, Buck. Have you checked the woman’s DNA against Josh’s missing wife?” he asked when the other man answered.
“How did you know?” Bucky asked, his shock obvious.
“Dane and I… Well, I don’t know. The idea just came to us.” Zack hissed out a breath. “So it is her?”
“Yeah, Derek and Ros are being informed as we speak.”
“Then why did you need my DNA if you knew it was Angela? Why didn’t you test the boy’s against hers? Wouldn’t it have told you if it was Ryan? Not to mention it would have been an easy matter to get a sample from Josh,” Zack questioned, confused.
Silence on the other end of the line clued him in to the truth.
“You didn’t know it wasn’t Erica and Jacob when you asked for my DNA, did you? You wanted a sample to see if I’m behind their abduction,” he surmised. Rage flooded through him. “You know what? Fuck you, Bucky! Fuck your whole piss-poor department! You’ve known me my whole damn life. You really think I could do something like that? Char-broil my own fucking kid?”
“Zack, I’m sorry. We had to be sure,” Bucky hedged.
“Go fuck yourself,” he snarled and hung up.
Dane plucked the phone from his hand and replaced it with the empty whiskey glass. With a sweep of his hand, he gestured toward the fireplace. Zack hefted it up and hurled it toward the brick with all his might. Shattered glass rained down on the base of the hearth.
“Feel better?”
“No! Fucking bastards!” Zack yelled.
Dane plucked another glass off the sideboard and again handed it to him with the same result. After Zack had smashed his fourth glass, he was somewhat calmer.
“Done?” his brother asked, no inflection or judgement in his tone.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Those glasses are expensive. Let’s go. You drive, I’ll get Mason to meet us at your house.”