Jack brought up a snapshot of Ricky on his cell. "This is him. His name is Ricky Patton."
The man studied the picture. "You know, he might have been here earlier. He asked me about buses to Portland. I told him the schedule, but he didn't buy a ticket. I know he wasn't on the bus that just left."
"Thanks. If he does show up, tell him to wait here until I come back."
By now, the agent was frowning big-time. "Is there a problem? Are you related to him?"
"Yes." It wasn't a lie as far as Jack was concerned. "He called to tell me someone was stalking him. I came to make sure he was all right."
Jack scribbled his phone number on a scrap of paper. "Call me if you learn anything or see him."
He walked away without waiting for the man to agree to call. Outside, he looked in both directions but no luck. The longer this went on, the more scared he was for the boy. Damn, if only he'd gone up to check on him earlier that morning instead of heading off to the job site. Better yet, if Ricky had just trusted him enough to tell him what the hell was going on.
And what role had Ricky's mother played in this whole fiasco? What had she done that made Ricky take to the streets to live?
Jack picked a direction at random and started off at a slow run, planning to circle the building. Just past a cluster of bushes, he spotted a backpack and some clothes spilling onto the grass from a trash bag. The pack didn't look familiar, but that didn't mean anything. If the kid had been planning his escape for a while, he could have bought it without any of the family knowing about it. He opened the pack and pulled out the top couple of items, the same T-shirt and jersey they'd gotten Ricky at the ballgame the other night. It was the kid's all right, so Jack was moving in the right direction.
A familiar pickup came screaming around the corner. Jack waved down his brother and ran over to fill him in. "He was in the bus station earlier this morning checking the schedule. I told him to wait for me inside, but he's not there. It looks like he might have dropped his stuff when he spotted his stepfather and took off running. I'm worried the bastard already has him."
Jack had a pretty good idea what his brother was thinking right now, and he really hoped Tino never aimed that kind of cold anger in his direction. "What do you need me to do?"
Before he answered, Jack paused to listen-sirens, and they were getting louder. "The cops are coming. Wait and bring them up to speed while I keep searching."
"Will do." Tino parked the truck and got out. He grabbed Jack's arm before he could get away. "One thing, Jack. Your job is to protect Ricky, which means stopping his stepfather from hurting him again. It's the legal system's job to make sure the guy pays for what he did to the kid. Don't go all Rambo on his ass. Ricky needs you at home, not cooling your heels in jail for assault."
His brother wasn't telling Jack anything he didn't already know, but Tino's intentions were good. "I'll do what it takes, but I won't let it get out of hand."
Tino stared at him another few seconds before nodding. "Okay, go get your kid. I'll send the cops in your direction as soon as they get here."
As Jack took off down the street at a slow lope, he checked out every nook and cranny where either the kid could've gone to ground or that his stepfather could have him cornered. When he reached the next cross street, he spotted a pickup truck parked at an odd angle halfway down the block to his left. Jack looked back toward where Tino stood waiting and pointed in the direction he was heading next.
When his brother waved, Jack picked up the pace. When he reached the pickup, he put his hand on the hood. Still warm, so it hadn't been there long, making it more and more likely he was on the right track. The only problem now was figuring out where the pair had gone from there.
He was betting on the alley across the street. Jack started in that direction when he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with flesh, immediately followed by a cry of pain. He would have recognized that voice anywhere-Ricky. There were several large dumpsters scattered along the way that blocked his view of much of the alley. He might not be able to see where they were, but he could follow the racket they were making.
"Let go of me!"
Ricky sounded scared but still defiant. Hang in there, kid. I'm coming.
A deeper voice snarled in response. "I warned you to stay the hell away from my house and my wife. I thought I made that clear the last time you tried sneaking around behind my back. I guess I need to break more than just your arm this time."
Ricky snarled back at the man. "She was my mother before you forced your way into our lives. I have the right to see her if I want to."
That comment was followed by another smack. "But she doesn't want to see you anymore, Ricky. We're building a new life together and don't need the little piece of garbage she's been dragging around from her old one."
God, no wonder Ricky hadn't been anxious to tell anyone about his family. At least Jack was almost there, his hands clenched in fists and ready to do battle. He reached the second dumpster just in time to see the man hit Ricky again, hard enough to bounce the kid's head off the brick wall behind him.
Jack bellowed, "Stop now, and you might just live long enough for the cops to get here."
As the man whirled around to face Jack, he managed to yank Ricky into a choke hold with his arm wrapped around the boy's neck hard enough to make it difficult for him to breathe. Even so, Ricky gasped out a warning. "Jack, stay back. Lawrence is bat-shit crazy."
Even as he spoke, Ricky fought like crazy to break free, managing to land a couple of solid kicks to his captor's shins. He clawed at the man's arms, drawing blood with his fingernails.
Lawrence cursed a blue streak and tightened his hold on the squirming teenager. Meanwhile, he glared at Jack. "Mister, this is a family matter. This kid is nothing but trouble, and I have the right to punish him any way I see fit. I don't know who the hell you are and don't care, but stay out of it."
Jack edged closer. "I'm his legal guardian. Even if I wasn't, I'd stop you from hurting Ricky ever again."
Although it was too late for that. The boy's jaw was already swelling from where Lawrence's fist must have connected with considerable force. When the guy jerked back on Ricky's arm, the boy winced in pain. It was the same one that had been broken the last time the two had tangled.
Lawrence wasn't buying what Jack told him. "You aren't his guardian, legal or otherwise. I know for a fact Ricky's mother never gave up custody of the boy."
"And the cops are going to have some questions for her, too. Ricky has been living with my family since he got out of the hospital, and yet no one has filed a missing person's report on him. I think there are laws against child abandonment."
The man still blustered on. "There was no reason to involve the cops in a family matter. I've been looking for him myself. You can ask around."
Ricky rejoined the conversation. "Yeah, he's been buying a kid I know drugs to report back if he saw me."
"I didn't buy that junkie any drugs. He bought them himself. I can't help what he spent the money on."
God, could this get any worse? Jack had just about reached the end of his patience. "You don't deserve a kid like Ricky. I'm warning you right now to let go of him, or you'll regret the day you were born."
Lawrence dragged Ricky back a few steps, maybe getting ready to make a run for it. "And I'm telling you to walk away, mister, or the kid won't be the only one with bruises and broken bones."
Lawrence had a couple of inches on Jack and maybe about thirty pounds, but it was mostly beer gut. He also hadn't been trained by one of the most elite fighting forces in the world. Jack smiled at Lawrence, which clearly took the man by surprise.
"Let Ricky go, and I'll let you walk." He jerked his head in the direction of the far end of the alley where he could see the flicker of red and blue lights. "Although considering the cops are right around the corner, I'd suggest running. Hell, you might even make it as far as your truck if you really haul ass. Otherwise, you and I are going to dance, and I promise you that you won't like how that turns out."
Jack dropped his hands to his sides, doing his best to look as if he didn't care one way or the other what the man decided to do. As he did, he made eye contact with Ricky and slowly looked down toward the ground at the boy's feet. Then he waited to see if his message had gotten through. The boy froze for a brief second, and then for the first time a bit of hope shone in his eyes.