Kenzie slept peacefully that night, much more peacefully than she had in a long time. There was something about being in the arms of your soul mate that made sleep more blissful than sleeping alone. Though they must have switched places during the night, Kenzie stayed asleep the entire time, her mind swirling with nothing but pleasant dreams.
It was so warm in the room from last night’s romp in the sheets, plus the overall warmer weather of Aurora Skies, that a blanket wasn’t even necessary.
Kenzie opened her eyes to the yellow glare of sunlight, then turned over so that her face was parallel with Hayden’s. Upon detecting her mobility, his eyes also opened and he grinned at her.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said. Kenzie smiled and snuggled in closer. “Good morning.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Great. I seem to sleep better when I’m with you than by myself at home.”
Hayden reached over and caressed Kenzie’s cheek with his hand. The gentle caress made her nearly doze off again because it was so relaxing, until she was jolted awake by the shrill chirp of her cell phone.
“Ugh, what the hell?” she groaned. Stumbling out of bed, she answered her phone while pulling her robe around her again, suddenly shy once more.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Is this Kenzie Howell?”
“Yes…”
“Oh, good. I saw your ad in the paper, where you were offering your services. You’re a private detective right?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded young and distraught.
“Yes, that’s right,” Kenzie affirmed. Hayden could obviously hear the conversation thanks to his keen hearing, but she didn’t mind. He understood how important Kenzie’s job was to her. And it wasn’t like she was hiding anything, either. She’d never have reason to hide anything from Hayden.
“I need your help,” the woman continued. “My son…he…” she broke down crying, hardly able to compose herself to explain the turmoil she was in.
“My son has been kidnapped,” she finally managed to get out.
“Kidnapped?” Kenzie repeated, concerned.
“Yes. I was with him yesterday at the new amusement park, and he was riding the spinning teacups. But I never saw him get off the ride, and I looked everywhere for him yesterday! I talked to security and they did a page through the park and everything, but he never turned up. I stayed there until the park was closed, but I still didn’t find him!”
“Could he have met a friend and gone home with them?”
“I’ve called all his friends, and their parents all say they haven’t seen him. Some weren’t even at the park yesterday. I thought I recognized you from your ad. I tried to call out to you, but I don’t think you heard me.”
So Kenzie had heard someone calling her name. It hadn’t been her imagination. She suddenly felt guilty; had she heard this woman yesterday, she could have helped right away.
Of course, she would have missed the splendiferous activities of last night with her boyfriend.
“Have you talked to the police?” Kenzie asked instead of admitting that she’d heard something and ignored it, chalking it up to her imagination.
“Yes, but they say they can’t do anything until he’s been missing for twenty-four hours. I can’t wait that long! Miss Howell, please, you’re my only hope. You’re here in town…I’ll pay you. I don’t care what it costs. Just, please, find my son.”
Kenzie bit her lip. She couldn’t very well refuse this woman. It wasn’t about the money, though of course that was an essential aspect of her career. But no parent should have to endure this tumult. The helplessness and desperation that came with losing a child.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” she said into the phone. “But I need some information from you. And I want you to go back to the police later today too.”
“Whatever it takes. I just want my little boy back.”
Kenzie was beginning to feel helpless herself. A kidnapping was a very touchy case. Time was of the utmost essence, and considering this was a young child who disappeared in a very crowded public place, the case would be that much more difficult. Finding physical evidence would be next to impossible. And, she hated to think it, but during her training she’d learned that if a kidnapped victim isn’t found soon, they usually weren’t found alive.
Still, she had to try. She couldn’t ignore a distraught mother searching for her missing child.
“Don’t worry about it,” Hayden reassured her when she hung up. “I have to start writing this story anyway. You do what you need to do.”
“But this is supposed to be a romantic getaway for us, too. If all my time is spent on a case…”
“Don’t think like that. You have an obligation. Well, I mean, as long as you choose to be a PI, you do. It’s your call in the end, and you can always refuse the case. But whatever you do, I support you. You know that.”
Kenzie looked away as Hayden clasped her shoulder tightly in reassurance. She knew he was right. And besides, she did have the choice now that she was her own boss. She could choose her own cases. She could decline a case for whatever reason, though of course she’d never done so before. In fact, she didn’t even have to have a reason other than she wanted to fornicate with her werewolf boyfriend while he was in Aurora Skies on business.
But no, she wasn’t that kind of person. She’d obtained the information from the woman, whose name was Mariah Cooper. She’d acquired her address as well, and that was her first stop.
So after a hearty breakfast, Hayden dug out his laptop to begin typing while Kenzie hopped into her car with Sage and made her way toward Mariah’s home. And once she got there, she was taken slightly aback. No wonder this woman was willing to pay anything – she was loaded from the looks of her house.
Kenzie let out a whistle as she and Sage exited the car. They both climbed the front porch steps and Kenzie rang the doorbell. It was opened in less than twenty seconds, and Kenzie found herself staring at, as she’d suspected, a young woman who looked younger than herself, with tear-stained cheeks and a frazzled expression.
“Mrs. Cooper?” Kenzie asked. The woman nodded and waved Kenzie and her dog inside.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Kenzie began as she tried to nonchalantly scrutinize the room. An L-shaped staircase separated a quaint kitchen from a roomy living area, and the color tones were all neutral, natural tans and greens. It had a somewhat serene effect, but did nothing to quell the distress that Mariah Cooper was radiating.
“I just don’t understand how this could have happened,” she sobbed while hopelessly wiping her eyes. “I was watching him the entire time! I mean, I turned away once, to talk to my husband, but still! How is this even possible?!”
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Kenzie said in her level-headed tone. “You said your son, Tristan, was on the teacup ride.”
“Yes, and then when the ride was over, I never saw him get off of it.”
“Where was your husband?”
“Standing right there with me. He just went out to talk to the police; he’ll be back soon.”
“Okay, good, because I’ll want to talk to him as well.”
Mariah nodded, but it seemed that she was beyond inconsolable. Kenzie asked what she needed, but she didn’t get very far. All she could ascertain was that Tristan had vanished, almost into thin air, at the new amusement park in town.
“Can you think of anyone who’d want to take your son?” Kenzie tried again.
“No, no one. Tristan has a lot of friends and he’s a good kid. His teachers love him, and he’s pretty popular in school.”
“Popular? He’s only five years old.”
“Well, he has a lot of friends for a five-year-old.”
“Mrs. Cooper, have you considered someone took your son for malicious intent?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, pardon me, but you seem pretty well-off. Could someone have kidnapped your son for ransom?”
Mariah seemed to ponder this, as though the thought never occurred to her. But then she shook her head.
“That can’t be. Yes, we’re well-off, but we’re not celebrities by any means. No one knows Tristan is our son. Miss Howell, my husband is a writer. He writes fictional stories. He doesn’t make as much as some people would think. And I’m just a waitress, so I make next to nothing. If someone wanted to get ransom from us, they wouldn’t be getting that much. We’d pay it, of course, but it seems pointless for someone to even try. And like I said, my husband may be a writer, but he isn’t in magazines or newspapers by any means. No one knows what he looks like, really, and certainly not our son.”
Kenzie was about to ask who Mariah’s husband was, considering she was a bookworm and was curious if she’d read anything by this author, when the front door opened and the writer himself stepped in.
Kenzie didn’t have to ask his name. She knew him. He was older now, and he’d grown a goatee, but she could still see him.
The last name of Cooper should have been her first clue.
“Bryce?” she gasped.
“Kenzie,” he replied in a slightly deeper voice than she’d remembered, yet not nearly as baffled as her own. “It’s been a long time.”
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