Page 1 of Lost and Found

Chapter One

Bailey Cosgrove gunned her Jeep, pulling a left-hand turn from the center lane at the red light. No other cars were on the road this late at night, except the one that had pursued her through the unlikely trail of the suburbs. Their headlights didn’t follow. Not because they hadn’t been trailing her, but because they hadn’t been stupid enough to chase so blatantly.

Her quick, staccato heartbeat slowed, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, briefly checking over her shoulder. Her sleeping son, Matt, was curled up against the window with his sweatshirt balled under his head, none the wiser as they returned home. Five-year-olds could sleep like the dead.

After watching her mirrors for miles, she finally pulled into the wooded driveway and stopped short of the carport. Bags of garbage were strewn in front of the tipped-over trash can. A sinking feeling in her stomach warned her this was somehow related to the car that had been tracking her. She glanced over her shoulder at Matt, still asleep, and didn’t know how to proceed.

She could call the cops, but say what? Someone had been following her, though not anymore, but then her trash bags had been ripped open? The 911 operator would patronize Bailey’s worries but then gently ask about raccoons. Or her sanity.

Maybe she’d been wrong, and no one had followed her. It wouldn’t be the first time she jumped at a shadow. Bailey let out a weary breath and would investigate if a problem existed beyond the wildlife. But first, she had a sleeping five-year-old to deal with. “Matty?”

He didn’t stir.

She searched her surroundings, then shook off the worry. If she were seriously worried that someone was hiding in her bushes, she needed to head back to her former in-laws and spend the night in a guest room. Tomorrow, Bailey could return when the sun had burned away the boogeymen and her fear.

To appease her last shred of worry, Bailey signed into the security app on her phone and found the system just as she left it. Engaged and in away mode. Nothing to worry about. She’d spooked herself. Of course she did. Spending the day with Angus and Kimbra was stressful enough to make her imagine someone following her.

With skills she’d honed over five years of doing it alone, she unbuckled her sleeping son, carefully unlocked the door, and carried him into his bedroom. With a quick kiss, she tucked him in. She’d leave the overturned trash cans until tomorrow. Sleep called to her.

Bailey padded through her bedroom, tugged her shirt over her head, and tossed it into the laundry basket before heading to the bathroom. Maybe chamomile tea would help— “Oh God.”

Angry red lipstick scrawled across the mirror.

Stop asking questions.

She tore out of the bathroom, snagging her shirt, and grabbed Matt without any of the gentle cradling she’d carried him in with.

“Mommy?”

“Go back to sleep, baby.” But she jostled him so much as she ran that it would be impossible. “Everything’s alright.”

“What’s wrong?”

She bolted for the Jeep, so scared she wanted to cry, so angry she wanted to scream. Her hands shook as she buckled Matt in, and, voice trembling, she whispered of a nighttime adventure. His sleepy eyes didn’t comprehend.

“I’m tired,” Matt mumbled. “Don’t wanna ah-venture.”

Same, baby. “Close your eyes, and sleep will come.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She had no plan and didn’t know who to call. If someone in the neighborhood could watch Matt, she would have called 911, but she was panicking, so instead, she floored it back to the Cosgrove estate. With their gated property, she and Matt would be safe. Maybe not sane, but that was a problem they could work out in the morning. For tonight, the goal was simply to sleep someplace other than where her sister’s murderer had left her a warning. Too bad. Bailey wouldn’t be scared off from finding the truth.

Bailey called Angus and, without sharing details, told him they were returning. When he asked about the tremor in her voice, she ended the call. This would be better explained in person.

The main roads turned into side roads until she reached the tucked-in road surrounded by woods where the estate loomed. She used her dead husband’s code, as she had for years, and sped up the long drive up a rolling hill. The moonless night was dark enough to hide their extravagant surroundings but not enough to conceal the suffocating atmosphere. Ryan had never fit in with his family. Bailey still didn’t. Families were complicated.

Angus swept the front door open when Bailey parked under the portico and greeted her with a tired wave, patiently waiting for her to unfasten Matt.

With her sleeping boy nestled against her shoulder, she whispered, “I’ll put him down and explain.”

Angus fell into step behind her, disapproval radiating. Bailey laid Matt in his dad’s childhood bedroom, as though Ryan might protect them if they slept where he had for so many years. She stroked Matt’s soft hair and wished she could climb in bed also, but Angus hovered until she followed him downstairs into an elegant sitting room.

Soft light glowed from lamps on end tables. Oil paintings from generations of Cosgroves lined the walls. Each had little lamps and nameplates. She hated the way their judgmental eyes watched with smug disdain for her single-mother existence.

Bailey sank gingerly onto a couch as Angus walked past her. “I’m sorry to do this in the middle of the night.”

At the wet bar, with his back to her, he made himself a drink. “Can I get you anything? Bourbon? Sherry?”