“We’ll join them,” Harrison says. “Megan loves the park.”
I walk with them but then see Fran.
Fuck.
“Fran’s here. I need to tell her what’s happening,” I say.
Harrison nods, and they leave.
I stop in my tracks when I see Fran holding the arm of the attorney that was trying to screw Harrison over: Bradley Jones.
“Good evening,” he says. “We meet again, Mr. Crawford.”
“Oh, you already know each other?” Fran asks.
“Fran, I need a word, please.”
Bradley kisses Fran’s hand and waves at his uncle, who’s packing up the area where he’s been telling the kids stories about criminals put in prison because of the work of attorneys like him.
“How do you know him?” I ask.
“Bradley? Oh, we met at the gallery opening in Boston last week, and wouldn’t you know it? He works with Harrison. What a small world.”
Bradley winks at me before turning back again.
His arrogance irks me, but there’s no time for my feelings about seeing Fran and Bradley cozied up.
“Fran, George and Megan are missing. They were in one of the stands but somehow slipped away unnoticed. There’s a number of people already looking for them. We need to join them.”
Her face goes red with rage. “You lost my son?”
“Fran.” I try to keep her calm because people are looking at us.
“Don’tFranme. You lost our son! He better be found safe because I’ll sue your ass from here to Mongolia if he’s not.”
She walks away, and I’m left staring at a woman I was once in love with but now barely recognize. I catch up to her and pull her arm to get her to face me.
“Listen here, Fran. I’ve raised George since he was born. You’re barely seen him in the last five years, so don’t try to pull the mother card now that you’ve decided he’s old enough to be a cool accessory. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to keep him with me. Trust me on this. I will fight with every single ounce of my being to keep my son where he belongs.”
“You’ll have to find him first, won’t you?” she bites out and turns to walk in Bradley’s direction.
There are no words that can explain how I feel right now, so I focus on what’s important.
My son.
I walk the streets of Stillwater, looking for George. My phone is a constant stream of messages from parents telling me where they’ve already been and haven’t seen the kids.
I’m walking toward the park where Harrison and Stella went when I have a lightbulb moment.
The water tower by the park isn’t in use anymore, unless it’s by teenagers who go up to make out in the summer. I would know. I did it plenty of times as a teen.
George once asked me about going up, and I told him it was dangerous and there was a monster family living up there. At the time, his curiosity stopped because he was afraid of the possibility of meeting a family of monsters. But what if he saw the tower again today and decided to look for himself?
I send Harrison and Stella a message telling them where I’m headed, and I run for it.
My lungs burn as I push to run faster. I can’t explain it, but I have a feeling that I’m right. The tower is where the kids are.
“George?” I call as I near the tower, nearly tripping when I look up. “George?”
