“Fine. Let’s go.”
Gil saw nothing of the familiar scenery as it flashed by his window. When Nate screeched to a halt in front of three other squad cars and a van, Gil saw Bailey’s car. Bile rose in his throat, but he choked it back.
They got out, and he strode beside his friend, stopping only when he saw the unmistakable stain of blood on the ground. God in heaven.
Nate quizzed the detective in charge. “Tell me what you know.”
A female officer, her eyes shadowed as she glanced at Gil, spoke calmly and concisely.
“The damage to the victim’s car indicates that someone sideswiped her, forcing her off the road. We have decent tire tracks, as well as several shoeprints. Assailant was likely male.
“Any blood inside her car?”
“No.”
Gil walked on shaky legs toward the vehicle and peered inside. “His booster seat is gone.”
Nate followed him. “That’s a good sign. Whoever took the boy means no harm.”
Just then another officer climbed out of the mobile lab in the van and jogged up to them, his face red from exertion. “We found this, sir.” He handed it to Nate. “It’s a tracking device. No telling how long it’s been on her car. We’re trying to find the manufacturer.”
Fifteen
Nate cursed as Gil’s blood congealed. Gil squeezed the bridge of his nose, his fear mounting. “I told her that what she was doing put her in danger. She wouldn’t listen.”
Nate shook his head. “This may have nothing to do with Alex’s disappearance.”
But Gil could hear the uncertainty in the sheriff’s voice. The timing was too much of a coincidence. Someone could have kidnapped Cade, knowing that the wealthy Alex Santiago would pay to ransom a child’s life. And now that Gil knew the truth about Alex... Good Lord. If the attacker knew the truth, also, then he or she was aware that del Toro was one of the richest men in Mexico.
Gil cleared his throat. “A kidnapping for ransom would be a best-case scenario. If that’s what happened, they won’t hurt him.” But Gil’s innocent son would still be scared and alone. Goddamn it.
Nate pulled out his phone and dialed. “I’m calling the hospital. If Bailey wakes up...when Bailey wakes up,” he said more forcefully, “she may be able to give us a description of the car and the attacker. In the meantime, we’ll put out an Amber Alert.”
“But with no vehicle description and no way to tell who Cade is with, that will be pretty useless.” Gil’s fury was misplaced. Nate was trying to help. They all were.
Gil spun on his heel and strode down the road, away from the vehicles, away from the image of his son being dragged from the car, away from the sickening vision of Bailey lying in the dusty road.
When he had put several hundred yards between himself and the uniforms, he stopped, eyes scrunched closed against the piercing pain that threatened to explode his skull. Dear God, he prayed. Protect them...please... His brain was in such turmoil, those were the only words he could articulate. Over and over. Protect them. Protect them.
Nate followed him moments later. “I need to know what he was wearing.”
Gil rattled off the requested information, trying not to think about how he had helped Cade get dressed only that morning, the little boy chattering excitedly about his day with Bailey.
Nate answered a call and listened intently. When he hung up, he touched Gil’s arm in a brief gesture of reassurance. “Bailey’s going to be okay. She has a severe concussion and required several stitches. It was a bad wound, but she’s stable. The head nurse will call me when they have further news.”
“I don’t know what to do.” The six words ripped his throat like sharp glass. His whole adult life he had been a man in control, the one to whom everyone else turned in a crisis. What kind of father stood by helplessly while his child faced God knew what evil?
“I think you should go to the hospital now. Call me with updates about Bailey, and I’ll keep you apprised of our progress here. It’s going to be critical that we find out what she knows.”
Gil understood the sense of what Nate was saying. But he had the odd and terrible notion that he needed to stay right here. At the spot where his son was last alive and well. As if by some miracle, Cade might teleport back to Bailey’s car and this whole thing would be a dream.
He nodded slowly, his hands fisted at his sides. The sense of helplessness was suffocating. But if he could not help his son in the short term, his only other option was to be with Bailey.
He had closed his mind to the possibility that she could have been killed. He couldn’t process that thought in the midst of his son’s disappearance. The brain could only handle so much trauma before it shut down. Bailey was fine. And she would understand his delay.