Page 1 of Between Steel and Secrets
One
Harper
Stepping inside a police station in Breckenridge wasn’t what I had planned for today. But plans change, especially when evidence finds its way into my hands.
That evidence: a stuffed dragon that’s been torn and stabbed with some type of weapon, likely a knife.
While it’s identical to Zeke’s favorite stuffed toy, there’s some solace in knowing it’s not his.
The male officer behind the desk is in his mid-fifties. His eyes meet Zeke’s, and he gives a warm, friendly smile to my son. He offers me a polite nod. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to report a kidnapping.”
He glances at my son.
“Not him. He’s mine. This is about another little boy, Rylan Matthews.”
His eyes widen slightly.
That name hasn’t been on the news in months, but it made a lot of headlines when he and his family were presumed deceased after an explosion.
“Have a seat. Someone will be out with you shortly.”
Five minutes turns to ten, and a gentleman in black slacks and a white dress shirt approaches us. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“I’m honestly hesitant to give it,” I say, glancing the man over.
“Zeke.” My little one smiles, offering up his name.
Well, shit.
Bringing Zeke may not have been the best plan. The kid might actually tell everyone what I did. And that’s assuming I go back home. Well, to the Ricci’s home.
My stomach tumbles.
If I don’t go home, Luca will be concerned, and since I have his car…
“I’m not sure I thought all this through.” I stand, and the gentleman offers me a warm smile. He puts a reassuring hand on my arm. “How about we walk and talk? There’s a play area that we could let Zeke explore, and we can sit and chat for a few minutes.”
Sighing, I nod. “Okay, yeah.”
He ushers me back through the bullpen and to the right, into a small area with a child-sized table and chairs, along with two stacks of toys against the wall.
Zeke eagerly goes to explore while the man gestures for me to take a seat on one of the adult chairs nearby.
“I’m Detective Morales,” he says.
I force a smile. “This isn’t easy, me coming to you.”
“I’m sure.” The detective smiles warmly and holds up a finger as he grabs a pen and a notepad from a nearby desk. “You mentioned the name Rylan Matthews earlier, to our officer at the front desk. Rylan is the little boy who died in the house explosion back last winter. But you don’t believe he’s dead. You mentioned a kidnapping.”
I show the detective the gray dragon I had been clutching under my arm. It wasn’t entirely hidden from sight, but he glances it over curiously.
“This may have belonged to the little boy. I saw him, the night before the explosion. He was being held by some very … dangerous men. The mafia.”
His gaze tightens as he glances at me then the stuffed animal. He closes the notebook and grimaces. “Did you know the Matthews family personally?”
“No,” I whisper, frowning.
