“I do now, honey,” Claire said, reaching back and giving his knee a pat. She turned, looking at Mack. “We called you because someone tried to grab him in the store a few minutes ago. We were afraid to get back in the car in case the man was watching us.”
Mack stood on the brakes, swearing, and stopped at the curb with a jerk. He turned in his seat, one arm draped over the wheel. “You’re telling me somebody actually tried to snatch Danny in front of all the customers?”
“That’s right.”
“So where is this guy? What happened to him?”
“No one knows. He just disappeared.”
“If he was ever there.”
“Danny says he was there. He screamed. Everybody in the whole place heard him and—”
“And nobody in the place saw this mean ol’ molester?” Mack said sarcastically.
Claire breathed in deeply. “That’s right, Mr. McMollere.”
“Jeremy saw him,” Danny said, ever helpful.
“Jeremy.” Mack met the boy’s eyes in the mirror.
“My new friend.”
“You’ve already made a friend in LaRue?”
“Uh-huh. At Star-Mart.”
“And he saw the bad guy, too?”
“He sure did!”
“Where were you two when this happened?”
“We were in the Nintendo stuff.”
Mack glanced at Claire. “Without your mom?”
Danny seemed to sense sticky territory ahead. “Jeremy said it was okay,” he said cautiously. “Our moms were just a coupla aisles over.”
“Are you quite finished?” Claire demanded, giving Mack an icy look.
He was shaking his head. “Why didn’t you just call the cops?”
“Danny says the killer is a cop.”
Mack glanced at Danny before bearing down on Claire again. “How could the killer be a cop?” He bumped his hand against his forehead. “How could there even be a killer? The hotel would surely have found a body.” He paused to add, “They did actually take a look, didn’t they?”
“I assume so,” Claire said. “The desk clerk certainly stated in no uncertain terms that there hadn’t been a murder on the premises. Then, before we left, we saw security guards milling around the housekeeping area.”
“Is that where the incident happened?” Mack asked Danny.
“Yes, sir.”
Mack forced himself to ease up. “Are you sure about this, Dan?”
“Yes, sir.” The kid met his gaze with the same candid quality his mother employed. For the first time, Mack allowed himself to study Carter’s son. There wasn’t much resemblance that he could see. Carter’s face had been fuller, his mouth smaller. Carter’s hair had been sort of chestnut. Danny’s face was narrow. And he had black hair, like Mack’s own. And his mouth…it was like his mother’s—full and made for smiling. Although neither of them had favored him with a smile since getting into the Jeep.
No surprise there. He hadn’t exactly been the doting uncle to Carter’s son, nor had he been particularly warm to the boy’s mother. Carter’s former lover.
“So, tell me about the guy who approached you in the store. What did he look like?”
“He was tall!” Danny cried, eager to cooperate.
“He says that every time he’s asked to describe him,” Claire said.
“He was real mean!”
“That, too,” she said dryly.
“He has something funny on his hand.”
Claire’s and Mack’s eyes met. “Like what, a tattoo?” Mack asked.
“No…” He screwed up his face, thinking hard. “You know…like a…”
“Like a scar?” Claire suggested.
“Yeah.” He nodded vigorously.
“You never mentioned that before, Danny,” she said.
“I just ‘membered it. I saw it when he touched me in the store.”
“Can you tell us anything about how the scar looked?”
Danny looked at his mother. “I don’t know, it was like when you hurt yourself and it gets all better.”
“It’s okay, son,” Claire said, giving him a smile. “You’re a good detective, isn’t he, Uncle Mack?”
“You bet. Just one more thing, Danny. Where on his hand was it?”
“Here.” He stuck out his fist, palm down.
“What did he say when he came up to you?”
“He tried to talk me into coming with him. He said we’d go get a treat at McDonald’s, but my mommy always says don’t go anywhere with strangers, so when he started sorta making me walk beside him, that’s when I started yellin’ my head off.” He settled back. “It worked, too.”
Mack smiled. “You did the right thing, hotshot.”
“Ryan’s dad calls him hotshot,” Danny said.
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh. Do you have any kids?”
“One,” he said, shooting a quick look in Claire’s direction.
“Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A girl.”
“Oh.”
He saw more questions in the boy’s eyes and was relieved when Claire spoke.
“Now you know why we didn’t feel safe returning to the hotel.” At his nod, she touched her hair, smoothing a few wisps that had worked free. “What do you suggest now? Should we drive back to Houston tonight or wait until tomorrow? I thought perhaps you could accompany us to the hotel, help us get our things into my car and then follow us onto the interstate for a few miles, perhaps all the way to Beaumont.”
“And then what?”
“Well, we’d be able to tell if we were being followed on the highway, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. And if you were, what would you do?”
“Well, I’ve got a cellular phone.”
“And you’ll whip it out and call 911 to come and rescue you. And while you’re waiting, the bad guy is…where? Doing what?”
She shrugged. “So what do you suggest?”
With a sigh, he rubbed the side of his neck. “This is a hell of a mess.”
“It wasn’t my idea to come here at all, Mr. McMollere,” she said coldly. “And I certainly hadn’t planned on my son’s witnessing a murder.”
“If that’s true,” he said, “then you’ve got exactly one option, the way I see it.”
“I can hardly wait to hear it.” She looked out her side.
“You can’t go back to Houston tonight or tomorrow. If things are as you say, this guy knows you, knows Danny, knows your car. If he’s in law enforcement, he has access to records. Finding you in Houston will be a piece of cake.” Glancing at Danny who was once again taking in the sights from the back passenger window, he lowered his voice. “If this actually happened,