Page 40 of Shadowed Witness

“But—”

“Nobuts. And listen, while you’re here, I want you to make yourself at home. You get hungry or thirsty, help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen, even if it’s the middle of the night. Got it?”

Dion nodded.

“All right. Let’s get you settled in.”

18

Eric drained his second cup of coffee.He was normally an early riser, but wakefulness had hit even sooner than normal this morning. Probably had something to do with sleeping on the couch. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Dion he sometimes fell asleep there. But he also hadn’t bothered to mention that he normally woke back up and moved to his much more comfortable bed to finish out the night.

He glanced at the clock. Better get Dion up. Much as he hated sending him into the system, he didn’t have a choice. But he could see to it that the teen got a good breakfast before Tracy Ann arrived for him.

He pulled eggs and a package of bacon from the refrigerator and weighed them in his hands. Wake Dion now or let the scent of sizzling bacon do the motivational work? He thought about his own early days of living with his grandpa. He’d been a little younger than Dion the first time around, but he remembered the feeling of waking up to the smells of a hot breakfast for the first time in his life. It wasn’t just the relief of not wondering if he’d go hungry—though that was part of it. It was the hope that maybe, just maybe, someone actually cared about him.

Yeah. For today at least, he’d try to give Dion that.

Ten minutes later, he placed a lid on the skillet and pushed it to the back of the stove to stay warm. Then he headed down the hall and knocked on his bedroom door.

“Dion? Time to get moving.” He waited a moment, but no sound came from beyond the door. He cracked it open. “Dion?” Still no answer. Kid must sleep like a rock. He pushed the door the rest of the way open. An empty room stared back at him. He took in the sloppily made bed and not-quite-closed window. He groaned. This was not good.

He crossed to the window to peer outside. As expected, there was no sign of Dion in the backyard or sauntering away through the adjoining properties. Turning from the window, he scanned the bedroom again. Nothing of Dion’s remained, not even a candy wrapper.

He’d go outside to see if there was any indication of which direction the teen might have gone, but he didn’t have high hopes of discovering anything useful. With Eric’s house situated on a connecting road in a quiet neighborhood at the edge of town, Dion would have had plenty of options to choose from—and that was assuming he was on his own and hadn’t called anyone to pick him up. Even if he was on foot, he could be quite a ways away from here if he’d left as long ago as Eric suspected based on the chill permeating the room. And it was still early. The neighbors likely hadn’t seen anything that would help point Eric in the right direction.

On his way to the door, he grabbed his phone and keys. He’d have to call this in to the department as well as inform Tracy Ann that her scheduled pickup was now on hold. Hopefully, she hadn’t said anything to Lucky.

He jumped into his car and debated which direction to go first. Would Dion head back to Kincaid Lake? Or toward town? He doubted the kid would return to the place Eric had found him, but there were countless places both in and around the parkwhere he could attempt to disappear. But then again, he might try to hitch a ride in town or find a friend to stay with. That would be safer. Depending on the friend.

Town was closer. Might as well head that way first. He dialed Tracy Ann and pulled onto the road while waiting for the call to connect through his Bluetooth speakers.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Tracy Ann. It’s Eric.”

“Eric. Great. I’m just about to head your way. Everything go all right last night?”

His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Last night was fine. Or so I thought. Just went in to wake Dion up, and he’s gone.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah. Window’s open, and his stuff’s missing too. I’m heading out to look for him now.”

“Please keep me updated. I’ll be praying.”

“Good.” He should be doing that too. “I’m so sorry.”

She sighed. “Happens more often than you’d think. Don’t beat yourself up. He’ll turn up eventually.”

“Yeah.” That’s what they’d have to cling to and work toward. But they both knew many runaways didn’t.

He ended the call with Tracy Ann and turned his full attention to his surroundings. Not much traffic going through the neighborhood this time of day, and while he passed an occasional morning jogger or dog-walker, he saw no sign of a teen boy shouldering a backpack and bedroll.

As he left the residential area and turned toward town, he put in the call to dispatch. Details given, he prepared to thumb the end call button on his steering wheel.

“Oh, hold up.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

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