Page 31 of Broken Moon

Finally, I turned the engineoff and climbed out, shutting my door gently as though afraid I might wake andwarn the child’s abductor. A dog barked incessantly, adding to my anxiety. Itwas beyond me why people got a dog only to chain the poor thing outside.

Jim disappeared and I had toscan the area for a good thirty seconds before I saw him standing in theshadows of an alley. I jogged across the street—Oak Street—and down the alleybetween two houses with peeling paint and dark windows before cutting throughsomeone’s back yard. I nearly tripped over a bicycle, then looked up to see himstanding on the back stoop of a two-story with rusty fencing around the tinyback yard and a gate with a chain and a padlock keeping it secure.

I jumped over the fence easilyand landed on the other side before I straightened, stared up at the house, andlost my breath.

God, it’s bad here.

Cold, ugly, grim. I could feelthe horror of this house’s past sliding insidiously across the ground. Its darkhands wrapped around my ankles and pulled me closer to the house, and I had tofight the nausea that threatened to make me lose all of Lucy’s deliciousdinner.

Jim remained on the back stoop,slightly hunched, his agony obvious. If he’d helped steal that boy, I hoped hefelt the agony of his actions for eternity. The dog, less loud now that I wasfarther away, continued to bark.

Any doubt I might have had wasgone. Little Noah Hedrick was inside that house. “Is he still alive?” Iwhispered.

Jim nodded, then held up afinger, which I took to mean,but not for long.

“I’ll call a detective I know,”I told him, then turned and raced back to my car. The urgency I’d felt hadescalated, and I knew I had to hurry.

I climbed inside my car butdidn’t turn on the heat. I was no longer cold after my initial reaction. I wasburning up. I dug my phone from my pocket and tapped Detective Moreno’s name.

He answered almost immediately,though his voice was a little sluggish. “Don’t you ever sleep, Kaitlyn?” hegrouched.

“Detective,” I said, and justlike that, my voice was thick with tears and I began to shake.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, hisvoice suddenly sharp. “The demon?”

“Not the demon,” I managed,then took a deep breath and forced my momentary weakness away. “I found MayorHedrick’s son. I know where he is.”

“The fuck,” he growled, and Icould hear a bustle of activity as he likely leaped from bed and begandressing. “Address, Kait.”

“1121 Brown Street. Two-storywhite house, fenced back yard. I parked on Oak Street, directly across from thehouse. You’ll see me.” I hesitated. “He’s alive, Rick, but I don’t think he hasvery long.”

“You’d better not be wrong,” hesaid. “I have to call the mayor. We’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Come in quiet,” I told him.“If you warn the man—”

“I know my job, Kaitlyn,” hesaid, and then he was gone.

Fifteen minutes was equal toforever.

Jim never reappeared, and Iwondered if he was inside that house, standing over the mayor’s child,attempting to keep him safe from a monster. Smart guy, having me park a streetover, as though he’d been afraid the child abductor would somehow hear or seeme.

And despite the fact that aspirit had led me here, despite the fact that I’d felt not only the evil butthe innocence inside that old house, deep down I was terrified that I waswrong.

I pulled my cell from my pocketwhen I felt its vibrating ring, and the very instant I saw Lucille’s text, I realizedthat with everything that had happened, I’d forgotten the address Jessie’sfriend had given me.

997 Oak Street, Clarksville.

I was literally standing on thestreet where Jessie’s ex lived. One street over from the kidnapping bastard thespirit had led me to. “Small world,” I whispered, and because I had a fewminutes left before Detective Moreno arrived, I sent Lucy a quick reply as Islipped down the street to Trevor Short’s house.

I didn’t have time to talk tohim, but I could scout out the house. It was a tall, skinny place, appearedwell-kept, and it was the house where the dog was barking.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.

I still couldn’t see him so Icrept around to the back of the house, because I couldn’t resist. The second hesaw me, he stopped barking and crept behind the tree to which he was chained.

He peered around the tree, hislittle white face the brightest thing in the darkness. The streetlight didn’treach back there, at least not well, but I could see that he had what appearedto be an old ice cream bucket to hold water, though I couldn’t tell if it wasfull or empty.

The ground was already coveredwith snow, and it was cold, grim, and dark, and I couldn’t stand the thought ofhim chained in the snow for endless hours.