Frank stopped short and did a double-take at the sight of Wil’s bruised face. The depth of concern that filled his eyes touched Wil’s heart; it was more than just the concern of a friend and he was reminded all over again of the depth of Frank’s feelings for him. He hadn’t yet decided how he really felt about all that, but he certainly didn’t feel “offended” or uncomfortable. Actually, he was kind of flattered; Frank was a damn good man and yes, okay, damn good-looking, too. Wil could admit that.

“I’ll live,” Wil assured with a smile as he straightened up from where he leaned against his car. “No fear, I’ll get a prescription and will be feeling no pain before you know it.” As yet, that wasn’t the case. His face throbbed and head pounded. He had been urged to go to the hospital but chose to wait for Frank to come pick up the body.

“You look awful.”

Wil laughed low. “Thank you, good buddy.”

Frank returned only a half-smile, his concern holding. “What the hell happened?”

“Perp caught me by surprise.” He nodded at the dead man face down on the concrete. “Hit me with a two-by-four.”

Shifting his attention to the body, Frank’s brow pinched. “What the hell happened to him?” He walked over and squatted down, getting a closer look at the man’s throat. “Did you do this?” Frank asked doubtfully as he glanced up at Wil.

“Uh, no,” Wil murmured and averted his eyes. “I…I don’t really know what happened. I was out cold for a moment. I came to, expecting to see the pearly gates, and found him instead.”

Frank stared up at him for an extended moment, eyes squinted with uncertainty. Frank wasn’t an easy one to lie to and get away with it, especially for Wil. The coroner rose slowly. “Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

“It was just a board to the face,” Wil smiled, then winced. “I’ll head over there in a few.”

Frank didn’t share his humor. “How close did you come to dying today?” he asked quietly, a strain in his voice.

Caught in his stare, Wil sobered and shrugged. “It’s a dangerous job, Frank, you know that. Every day that I go to work, I’m putting my life on the line.”

“How close?”

Wil dragged his hand over his mouth and looked at the ground. “Seconds, maybe,” he mumbled. “Just long enough for me to…” he blinked and looked up. “To say goodbye to Tad in my heart.”

A dampness glazed Frank’s eyes. “You were that close?” he whispered. “So close that you were telling your son goodbye?”

Wil nodded.

“How was it possible for you to know you were at death’s door…” Frank murmured suspiciously, “…if you were out cold?”

Sliding his tongue anxiously over his lips, Wil stared at his friend.

“What really happened, Wil?”

 

•♦•

 

The doctor was right; taking a shower and putting on clean clothes made Kelly feel much better. But it did nothing to ease her fears for Raimi. She and Savannah returned to the waiting room. Axel was there, as promised.

“Have you heard anything about Raimi?” Kelly whispered, terrified of bad news. Axel’s expression told her nothing.

“Not yet,” he said. “Devlin…Dr. Grant…went to check on him, see what he could find out.”

Kelly nodded and sank down in one of the chairs, her hands in her lap.

“Do you feel better?” Axel asked softly. “You look like you do.”

“Yeah.” She raised her eyes. “I do.” She looked at Savannah. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad to help.” Savannah sat next to her. “Are you hungry? They have hot soup in the cafeteria.” She smiled. “My treat.”

When Kelly hesitated, Axel nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here for Devlin. If you’re not back, we’ll come find you and let you know what we learned about your brother.”

Kelly stood with Savannah. “Thank you,” she told Axel.

The two girls left the waiting room and turned down the corridor toward the elevators. It felt strange to walk in shoes and Kelly’s steps were slow and slightly awkward. Savannah didn’t rush her and matched her pace.

“I’m sorry,” Kelly mumbled. “I haven’t worn shoes for so long, it feels weird.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” Savannah pressed the button when they approached the elevators. The doors opened, and they walked inside.

Kelly grasped the handrail when the elevator car shifted and began to go down. It made her stomach feel weird and tingly. “I’ve…I’ve never been in an elevator before.”

“Oh.” Savannah smiled. “Kind of fun, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

Savannah laughed lightly. “You get used to it real fast. I come here a lot, so I use the elevators all the time.”

“To see Dr. Grant?” Kelly asked. “He said you were his sister-in-law?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s married to your sister?”

Pursing her lips, Savannah smiled. “My brother. Abel.”

Kelly blinked. “Oh. I-I didn’t know Dr. Grant was…”

“Gay?”

“Yeah.”

“Yep.” Savannah gazed at her. “Are you okay with that? Because, you know, Axel is, too. You met the cowboy he was with?”

Kelly nodded.

“That’s his boyfriend. Or, fiancé, I guess.”

Kelly vaguely recalled the large cowboy kissing Axel before they left. Her mind had been so twisted up in fear for Raimi that she hadn’t registered it until now. “They saved us,” Kelly whispered. “I don’t care if they’re gay.” Tears filled her eyes. “They’ll always be my heroes.”

 

•♦•

 

The frozen weeds crunched beneath Clint’s boots as he walked down the path. He watched the van warily. The guy, Laird, hadn’t said if he was alone. The front seats were vacant. Clint withdrew his weapon and held it ready as he veered toward the back of the vehicle that had no windows. If Laird did have a partner, Clint didn’t want the man to see him coming.

Approaching the rear door cautiously, Clint listened. Shuddered sobs came from within, but no other movement or voices. Unwilling to take chances, Clint reached out slowly and gripped the handle of the right rear door, carefully pressed the button, then jerked it open and whipped the gun up. The two kids inside screamed and ducked, arms flailing up over their heads, hands bound in zip-tie cuffs. The remainder of the van was empty.

Clint lowered his gun. “Sorry.”

Choking on sobs, the kids—a young girl of approximately thirteen or fourteen and a slightly younger boy—slowly straightened up. The girl immediately burst into tears, crying uncontrollably. “I wanna go home! I wanna go home! Please! Let me go home! Please!”

The boy huddled in a silent ball, tears streaming but not making a sound. His wide, terrified eyes locked on Clint as his chin trembled.

“Please let me go home!” the girl sobbed hysterically. “I want my dad!” She fell into a state of panic, screaming, “Daddy! Daddeee! Help me!” Her cries took on that of a desperate, terrified child.

“Hey…” Clint started but she drowned him out. Tucking his gun away, Clint reached inside and grabbed her shoulders. The girl went into a frenzy, screaming at the top of her lungs, thrashing against his grip.

“Nooo! Let me go! Pleeaase! I wanna go home! Daddy!”

Fuck. Her terror cut through him, but he had to get her under control. He pulled her out of the van and turned her around, clamping her inside his arms as she fought him and screamed for her father to help her…save her. Clint blinked as nightmare visions invaded his head of the twins and little boys being snatched away without a trace…the terror they would have gone through…screaming for those in their family to help them, save them.

“Listen…” Clint said thickly, but the girl wasn’t hearing him. All she knew was that she had been taken and now a strange man was constraining her. “Listen to me,” he insisted, tightening his arms just a fraction. The girl was beginning to hyperventilate from her hysteria. “Listen!” Clint yelled, and she suddenly went silent, shaking badly. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand? I’m going to get you home as soon as I can, but I need you to stay calm.” He glanced at the frightened boy. “You’re both going to be okay. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m here to help you.” He eased his hold on the girl a little but didn’t let her go just yet. “Tell me your name.”

The young girl trembled violently but seemed to be pulling it together. “M-M-Misha,” she whispered, her voice quavering.

“Okay, Misha. I’m Clint.” He nodded at the boy. “What’s your name, son?”

The boy swallowed thickly and scooted up a bit. “Billy.”

“All right,” Clint said. “We’re making progress.” He asked Misha, “Are you okay now? Can I let you go?”

She nodded.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you running off. We’re a long way from the city and you’ll freeze to death out here if you go taking off.”

“I-I won’t,” Misha whispered.

“Okay,” Clint murmured and slowly loosened his arms. She moved away from him but didn’t bolt. “Let me get rid of those cuffs.” He withdrew his knife and both kids tensed. “It’s all right,” he said. “I just need to cut these things off. Hold out your hands.” The girl hesitated then did as he asked. The cuffs had been cinched so tight her hands were turning purple and the plastic band was cutting into her wrists, drawing blood. The boy’s was the same. “Hold real still,” he told Misha. “I don’t want to cut you. But these are on really tight, so I need you to not move.”

Misha nodded and blinked as her lingering tears spilled down her wet, flushed face.

“You’ll be home soon,” Clint assured her again. “I promise.” He carefully removed her cuffs. At first, she was incapable of moving her fingers. By the time he cut Billy free, the purple hue in her hands was starting to fade somewhat and she could slightly wiggle her fingertips. “You’ll be all right,” he told them. “As soon as the blood starts flowing into your hands again, they’ll return to normal.” He helped Billy out of the van. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm.”

The two kids gazed fearfully at the orphanage.

“Nothing in there is going to hurt you now,” Clint said. “You need to stay warm until I can take you home.” The boy hadn’t said anything about ‘going home’. Maybe he didn’t have a home to go back to. The questions could wait till later. “Come on.”

Misha and Billy went with him, their walk slow and uncertain, their eyes wide and frightened. Both kids gasped, and Misha yelped in fright when they saw the dead man just inside the door.

“He…he’s the one who brought us here,” Misha whispered.

Clint nodded. “Yep.”

“Did you…kill him?”

“Yep.”

The young girl looked at him as if she didn’t know if she should fear him or cling to him.

Clint left her to figure it out and motioned them toward the living room. “In here.” He opened the door and ushered the two kids inside. They halted abruptly when they saw the others; gaunt faces, hollow stares illuminated by the flickering firelight.

Misha gasped and retreated a step. Billy stood frozen in place, stark fear in his eyes. Clint could imagine how the orphan kids must look to these two—like the walking dead.

“It’s okay,” Clint said. “You don’t have to be afraid. They’re kids just like you, they’re just malnourished. They won’t hurt you. They’re as scared as you are, probably more.”

“What…” Misha trembled. “What…happened to them?”

That’s a horror story you don’t need to hear, Clint thought. “They’ve been neglected and abused. But they’ll be all right now. They just need some proper care.”

“Is…is that what would’ve happened to us?” Billy whispered, his chin quivering.

Clint rubbed his mouth. “All that matters is that you’re safe. All of you.”

The two kids took a seat on the sofa behind the others and huddled close together. Whether or not they’d known each other before their abduction wasn’t yet determined, but for now, they seemed to take comfort in one another’s presence.