It was why he’d been eager to send her away. Because when he’d been distracted by his girlfriend in high school, his father had died.
Now, he’d been distracted by Delaney, and Charlotte was gone.
So he’d sent her away. Because…because what he’d believed was true. When he wasn’t vigilant, terrible things happened.
People died.
Dear God, please. Don’t let that happen to Charlotte. Please.
By sending Delaney away, he was removing every distraction. And keeping her safe. The fear that she might be in danger was…
Well, just another distraction he couldn’t afford.
He had to focus on the task ahead, his mind churning through everything he knew. Lowell had been feeding information to Hayes. Of that, Noah was certain. Lowell, who’d once been his best friend, who’d stood beside him at his wedding, who’d named him godfather to his firstborn, had betrayed him, a betrayal that cut deeper than Noah’s failed marriage ever had.
But he wasn’t a kidnapper. His former friend was bitter and vindictive, but he wouldn’t hurt a child.
Would he?
One way or another, Noah was about to find out.
Lowell lived in a newer development about halfway between Driftwood and Norfolk, where cookie-cutter colonials sat on postage-stamp lots. He and his wife had chosen the development to be close to Lowell’s work in Norfolk and his sister in Driftwood.
Noah hadn’t been there in years, not since Marianne had packed her things and moved out.
He pulled into the driveway and parked, then sat there a minute, fumbling to make a plan.
The best he could come up with was to tell Lowell what had happened and hope the man’s better self responded.
Noah climbed the front steps. Rage—just one of the feelings he’d been suppressing all day—rose inside him like lava. IfLowell had any connection to this, any part in Charlotte’s disappearance…
Lord, help me here. I don’t know how to do this.
He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
Footsteps approached, then the door opened.
Missy, Lowell’s wife, smiled from the far side of the screen. Back in college, she’d been tiny, but the years and the kids had affected her figure. Even so, she was attractive, with shoulder-length brown hair pulled back in a headband. She wore jeans and a sweatshirt. “Hey, Noah. I’m glad to see you.”
No matter what Lowell had believed, Missy had always been kind to him. By her casual greeting, she hadn’t heard about Charlotte’s kidnapping.
He didn’t have it in him to explain and then deal with her emotional reaction, so he said, “Is Lowell home?”
“He’s playing with Bryce. Come on in.” She pushed the screen open, and he stepped inside and followed her to the back of the house.
It hadn’t changed much since he’d seen it last. Missy had a talent for decorating. The dining room looked showroom beautiful, with light furnishings that matched her cheerful personality. On the opposite side of the hall, Lowell’s office wasn’t so airy with the mahogany desk and matching floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
The family room, while decorated as well as the rest of the house, was far less tidy. Toys littered the floor. The Carolina Panthers football game played on the TV, but muted. Lowell sat cross-legged on the carpet, building a tower of blocks with his three-year-old son.
Noah took in the man who’d once been his friend—kind, patient, devoted to his family. A man without bitterness etched into the lines of his face.
He studied the little boy, his godson, the boy who’d been his nephew before the divorce. He and Marianne had been at the hospital when Bryce was born. Noah had held his tiny body and promised to be the best godfather ever.
He hadn’t seen Bryce since he’d learned to crawl, much less walk.
Lowell looked up. The smile he’d aimed at his wife vanished when he saw Noah. “What are you doing here?” His voice hardened as he placed a protective hand on his son’s shoulder.
“I need to speak with you.” Noah kept his voice level despite the storm raging inside him. “Privately.”
