Page 95 of Wildflower and Whiskey
I leaned against the car, trying to breathe past the spike of panic. Braden’s car seat still smelled like his shampoo. I turned, saw Becket’s cruiser tearing down the road, lights strobing across the orchard.
He jumped out before the wheels stopped turning. “You good?”
“Where’s the van?”
“Still moving. They ditched this car to slow us down. We’ll cut them off at the highway.”
“I’m coming.”
He didn’t argue this time. He tossed me a spare vest from the trunk. “Then keep up.” I got into the car with Becket. The chase felt like it belonged to someone else. Cold air pouring through the cracked window, the radio spitting coordinates. We hit Route 12 doing a hundred kilometers an hour then one ten. Patrol units from two towns over joined in. The van was fast. A dark, older model with a bent in half plate to hide the numbers. They made a hard right at the quarry road. Becket followed.
“Spike strip ahead,” came the call over the channel.
The van tried to dodge, fishtailed, clipped the edge of the strip. A tire blew. The driver fought the wheel, swerved again, and went off into the ditch near the tree line.
Becket and I were out before the cruisers stopped moving.
“Police! Out of the vehicle!”
The passenger door opened. A man in dark clothes jumped out and ran. Becket chased. I went for the rear.
The back doors flew open and there he was.
Braden.
Buckled into a different car seat, crying but whole. His face blotchy, his small fists reaching.
I popped the straps open and scooped him up. I felt his heartbeat hammering against my chest. “Hey, buddy,” I whispered, shaking with relief. “Hey. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
He hiccupped against my shoulder.
Behind me, Becket tackled the passenger into the gravel. The driver had gone still, leaving the van with his hands in the air.
For the first time in hours, I breathed.
By the time we got back to the house, Elyna met us at the porch, barefoot again, eyes red and raw. I stepped out of the truck with Braden still pressed against me.
She made a sound I’llnever forget, a half laugh half sob, as she ran to us.
I handed our son into her arms.
“He’s okay,” I said quietly. “They didn’t touch him.”
She held Braden so tight he squeaked. “You found him.”
I nodded; throat thick. “We found him.”
Becket lingered near the truck; phone pressed to his ear. I heard him say something about “two in custody” and “waiting on IDs.” He looked at me, eyes tired but proud. “We’ll debrief later. Go inside. Patrol’s brought Harmony Bellerose into the station. She’s safe, but we want to see what she knows.”
“Thanks, Becket. I’ll let Elyna know.”
My brother just blinked and tapped my shoulder like it was another day’s work but, in reality, he was a hero.
This time I listened to him and went in the house.
The lights were still on, the air warm again. I sank to the floor beside Elyna and Braden and finally let myself shake.
CHAPTER 40
