Page 77 of No Child of Mine

The wind blew through the trees. It was quiet now. Cars passed on the highway in the distance, the hum of their engines a comforting sound. He eased down on the ground and rested a minute, listening to his breathing, in and out. It was so tempting to close his eyes and go to sleep. No more bad guys. No more Mr. Juice.

He would go home now. To Mr. Daniel’s. No one could get in his way. Get between him and Mr. Daniel.

If they did, he had Mr. Juice’s gun.

* * *

“It’s twelve-twenty. He’s not going to show.” Daniel eased back onto the car seat. Sweat soaked his collar despite the cool night air. Nausea buffeted him. It could be a reaction to the shock of being on his feet again or angry letdown because Jorge Morin hadn’t shown. He didn’t know, but he couldn’t Samuel see he was about to pass out.

Daniel had dragged himself from the hospital, ridden to the station with Nicole, and then fought with Samuel and Ray until they had capitulated and let him come along. Only for this guy to be a no-show. “We have to find him.”

Samuel shook his head, his craggy features rigid with anger. He stared out at the other vehicles in the park parking lot. Ray was back there with a couple DEA agents, and half a dozen PD officers. “I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing,” Samuel smoothed his mustache in an impatient gesture. “He called this shot. Why would he do this?”

“Maybe Barrera got to him.” Daniel shivered again. If Morin was dead, chances were good that Benny was, too.

That speculation warranted no answer. The radio crackled. “Samuel.” Ray’s voice sounded loud in the night’s stillness.

“Yeah.”

“We got a report of a one-car rollover on IH-35 south of here. They radioed dispatch after the responding officer recognized the deceased from the APB we put out on Morin.”

“Deceased?” Daniel shoved the car door open.

Samuel grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pulled him back. “Wait.”

“Just one body.” Ray responded. “An adult male. Hispanic. No ID on him. Went through the windshield.”

“Give me an exact location.”

Daniel longed for lights and siren. Samuel raced to the scene, but he stayed at the speed limit, despite Daniel’s comments. He shoved from the pickup before it came to a complete stop and ran to the body.

Jorge Morin was stone cold dead. Lying on his back, his head turned to one side, blood coagulated on his forehead and nose, he stared into the distance with open, unseeing eyes. Daniel wanted to shake him. He wanted to scream. Where was Benny? What had he done with Benny? Had he been in the car?

“Move back, Danny. Let Sanchez do his thing.” Samuel’s words were terse, but his tone kind.

The medical examiner investigator gave them a quick, tight smile and went to work. One of the evidence techs joined him. “We looked through the stuff in the backseat, checked the trunk. It’s empty. There’s some small blood stains. We’ve got fiber, dirt, sand, hair. Lots of trace evidence. We should be able to tell if the child was in there at some point.” The evidence tech used the back of her arm to push hair out of her face as the wind kicked up, heavy with rain that wouldn’t fall. “Oh, and it looks like we weren’t the first to toss the car. Someone else had gone through it.”

Daniel stared up at his brother, unable to move. Samuel grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “You should be in the hospital, Danny. You’re white as a sheet, and you’re shaking.”

“Where is he?” Daniel jerked free. “Did someone else get him? Barrera’s goons? How will we find him now?” Daniel tried to keep his voice even. The chills didn’t help.

He glanced toward the mangled wreck that had been an Impala. The car was too old to have air bags. The collision with the tree had shattered the windshield, flattened the front end. Hubcaps had parted ways with the tires and lay strewn across the ground. It looked like Morin had been ejected through the windshield. How could Benny have survived that horrific impact? Had a seatbelt saved him? Daniel doubted Morin had been too concerned about something as mundane as a seatbelt. “We need to organize a search party. Maybe he ran into this property and is hiding.”

“You’re probably right. If Morin really intended to exchange Benny for the ransom money, then Benny was in the car.” As the ME knelt next to the body, Samuel took Daniel’s arm again and moved him toward his pickup truck, parked on the side of the road. “If he walked away, that means he wasn’t badly hurt.”

Daniel shivered. San Antonio’s October weather typically meandered from warm to cool and back. After dark, the temperature dropped steadily. The predawn hours had brought a cool preview of winter, complete with the prediction of severe thunderstorms. Benny was out there and who knew if he had a coat or had found shelter. He could be hurt. Seriously injured. But ambulatory. “We need to find him before this storm hits.”

“We’ve got skid marks,” Alex trotted along the side of the road toward them, Deborah right behind him. “Looks like he was coming from the south. Something happened and he started swerving back and forth, then braked for some reason.”

“Deer in the road?” Deborah looked as if she didn’t really believe that was the problem. Daniel agreed. It wasn’t a deer.

“Struggle in the car?’ Samuel said it, but his tone implied he wished he didn’t have to.

“Maybe. Maybe he was drunk and was driving too fast—”

“Samuel, Daniel,” Ray broke in. He’d been talking on the cell phone. “Jorge Morin’s mother lives on some property about five miles from here, off WW White Road. Maybe he left Benny there. Maybe he didn’t intend to make the trade.”

“If he left Benny there, he left a body.” Daniel said the words everyone else was thinking.

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