Chapter One
"Rumor, let's go."
A hand pulls on my shoulder and when I turn, I see Brock there.
"They took Jackson!" I say, my heart pounding, my lungs struggling to get air. "They took him!"
"Yes, I know," Brock says in a low voice as he glances at the neighbors who have gathered along the line of yellow police tape that surrounds Jackson's house.
"Do you know what happened?" a man says to Brock. He's around Brock's age with a deep tan and black hair that's peppered with gray. I've see him doing yoga on the beach in the mornings but never talked to him.
"I'm not sure," Brock hurries to say, turning away from the guy. He puts his arm around me and says, "Let's go back to the house."
I yank away from him and run up to the police officer who's standing on the other side of the yellow tape. "Tell me what's going on! Why'd you take him? Jackson didn't do anything!"
Brock races up behind me and yanks me back. "What the hell are you doing?" he whispers in my ear. "You want to get arrested?"
I whip around to face him. "He's my boyfriend. I love him. You think I'm just going to stand here and do nothing?"
"Excuse me," the officer says as he walks over to us. "Did I hear you say you're the girlfriend?"
Brock stands up straight, shoulders back, and clears his throat. "They're just friends, officer. We live down the street."
"I'm not just his—"
Brock yanks me against his side before I can finish what I was going to say.
"Please excuse her outburst," Brock says to the officer. "She's just frightened from all the commotion." He squeezes my shoulder. "We'll be going now."
The officer stares at him. "Wait a minute. Aren't you—"
"Brock Halliway," Brock says with his celebrity smile.
The officer doesn't return the smile. "You and your kid came into the station last week. That was you, right?"
Brock's smile drops and his jaw tightens. He thought the guy recognized him from TV but instead it was because of Braden. "Officer, we need to be going. We'll let you get back to your work."
"Sir, answer the question. You're the father of the boy we've been investigating?"
"Yes." Brock tightens his grip on me, urging me to keep quiet. "But that has no relevancy here." He glances down at me. "I need to get her home."
"Your boy was friends with him," the officer says. "The Novak kid. Is that correct?"
Brock lets me go and steps up to the officer. "I am not here to answer your questions, nor am I required to do so. If you have questions, you can speak to my lawyer." He turns and walks back to me, grabbing my arm and pulling on me to move. "Hurry up," he whispers.
The officer looks at me a moment, then walks over to the other police guy, saying something to him as his eyes go back to me.
"Rumor!" Brock scolds, yanking on my arm.
I turn and follow him and we make our way through the crowd of neighbors as they talk in hushed voices.
"I knew that kid was trouble," a man says to his wife.
"He's the one they think killed that other girl," the wife says. "Now he's done it again. Hope they lock him up this time."
"He didn't—"
"Quiet!" Brock whispers, squeezing my arm as he pulls me beside him.
