Page 67 of Bad Medicine

I started the car and droveaway, silent. Tomorrow, I would visit little Anthony. I would get up close andpersonal with one of the victims of a mother’s abuse, and I’d force myself toreally look at it.

“Where to now?” he asked, afterI’d been driving for ten aimless—and quiet—minutes. “We’re not likely to finddaywalkers at night. They’ll blend in with the other vampires, right?”

I squinted through thewindshield, thinking, ignoring the three spirits drifting over the sidewalk.“Lucy,” I said abruptly. “Get her on the phone, Joe.”

“Lucy,” I said, when sheanswered. “Have you seen any visions, had any dreams, anything at all?”

“Sorry,” she said, regretfully.“Not yet. But I’ll call you the second I do.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. How’sAsh?”

“He’s currently tearing the stuffingout of a toy so he can get to the squeaker.”

I’d barely ended the callbefore Detective Moreno called. “The woman Sam killed and hung in Shadowfieldhad a seven-year-old son.” He hesitated. “We can’t find him.”

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. “Pleasetell me Sam didn’t take him?”

“That’s what I’m thinking.There were no signs of a struggle in her house. Her father lives there, aswell, and he said the victim—Carrie Sims—had taken the child with her to dosome errands. They never returned.”

“On a school day?” I asked,skeptical.

“Yeah,” he said, and there wasnothing but grim tiredness in his voice. “His grandfather said the boy was “toosick” to go to school.”

“Too battered to go to school,”Joe muttered. Then he turned to stare out his window, likely lost in thememories of his own awful childhood.

“What else?” I asked, because Iheard in Rick’s voice there was more.

“We got a call from a womannamed Genevieve Keller. She claims her son—a man named Samuel Keller—iscommitting these murders, and she’s ready to talk. Says she’s scared he’s goingto kill her. She lives in West Virginia, and I’m driving down there in themorning to interview her.”

“Oh my God.” I clenched thesteering wheel, rage squeezing my heart. “She’s alive?”

“She’s alive,” he said grimly.“She’s also human, if her constant cough was any indication.”

“I’m not trying to punishher, Kait. I’m trying to make her stop.”

Son of abitch.

“His father is a shapeshifter,then,” I said. “I want to go with you tomorrow, Rick.”

“No,” he told me. “I need youto do something much more important than talking to Genevieve Keller. I need youto find that little boy. You can talk all you want to Sam’s mother once the kidis safe.”

I rubbed my temple. “Allright,” I agreed. “Let Carrie’s father know to expect me in the morning. What’shis name?”

“His name is Keith Sims. I’lltext you the address. Carrie was never married. The boy is Henry.”

“I’m going to find Henry,” Iswore, and that kid became my priority, whether the council wanted me to stopprioritizing the humans or not. I could hunt daywalkers and human kids at thesame time. “Rick, ask Keith Sims if I can talk to him tonight. I want to see ifI can get any sort of feeling from that house.”

“Kait, he’s just learned hisdaughter died in a horrible way and his grandson is missing. He’s not going towant to talk to you tonight.”

“Ask him. Please. If Sam hasthe kid…” I didn’t finish that sentence, because I really didn’t know whatwould happen if Sam had him. I didn’t believe he’d kill him—not on purposeanyway. Regardless, if Henry were still alive, he was in danger. “And I haven’tdisregarded the notion that his mom stashed him somewhere.”

“Or his body,” Joe said.

I glanced at him, worried. Iwas afraid he was going to dive into the dark pain of his childhood and drownthere. I needed to get his mind on something other than the shapeshifter, theabusers, and the traumatized kids.

“I’ll let you know,” thedetective said, and ended the call.

“Joe,” I said, and when hedidn’t appear to hear me, I repeated his name.