Page 9 of Ultimate Justice

“I don’t blame you for running away,” Evan said. “Your foster parents weren’t nice people.” In fact, they took “dickhead” to a whole new level. The kid had good instincts. Stressful family dynamics were one of the leading reasons as many as 2.8 million children ran away from home every year. “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Again, Noah looked at Marlie, and again, she nodded. It was clear he trusted her to look out for him. He took a deep breath before answering. “I don’t like Sheila and Mike. They were always mean to me. Sometimes, they didn’t give me dinner, and they were always yelling at me. The worst part was they never let me use their computer, and I’m really good with them.” He grinned. “Some nights, after they passed out, I snuck in and used their laptop. Figuring out their password was easy. I only got caught once, but it was worth getting yelled at for that.”

Evan grunted. Right before she’d disappeared, his sister had gotten into some roaring shout-fests with his dad. “How long ago did you run away?”

Noah’s brow wrinkled. “What’s today’s date?” he asked Marlie.

“October fifth.” She tucked a blond strand of hair behind the boy’s ear, the movement so seemingly instinctive and maternal.

While looking up at the ceiling, as if deep in thought, he started counting on his fingers. “Then I ran away four months ago.”

Sonofabitch. With superhuman willpower, Evan forced his jaw not to clench.

He’d already checked with the Colorado Department of Human Services, Division of Child Welfare. The Hamiltons had never reported Noah missing, not even to the police. They’d kept their mouths shut for four months, so the state wouldn’t cut off the money they received to foster Noah. The kid was nothing more than a cash cow, netting them fifty-four dollars a day they obviously hadn’t spent on food for him.

Strobie scribbled on his pad, and Kinnemara wrote in his portfolio. That was something that needed to get reported to the local authorities. Meaning, Noah’s ex-foster parents would be facing additional charges.

Again, he tamped down his anger. There’d be time to process his own emotions later. Children could read body language. If he telegraphed negative emotions, the kid would shut down even more. The only reason he was getting any info at all was due to Marlie’s comforting effect. “Where did you go when you ran away?”

Noah frowned. “To a library to use the computer, but I needed a library card, and I didn’t have one.”

“So what did you do after that?” Evan asked.

“Um…” Noah twisted his lips, telling Evan whatever the kid had done next was probably something he shouldn’t have. Marlie gave Noah a gentle nudge. “I, uh, found someone’s card on the floor and used it to get into the computer. I just wanted to see how the Rockies were doing. Honest. I left the card on the table. I swear I didn’t keep it.”

“I believe you.” Chances were the kid had acquired quite a few skills while he’d been on the street. “Where did you go after you left the library?”

“To a Dunkin’ Donuts. To wait for Frank. The pool guy.”

Frank. As in Francis Manello, the owner of the house Stonewall Jackson Jones had been hiding in. Manello was still in the wind.

Evan had grilled Jones mercilessly about Manello. The two men had met in prison, when Manello had been doing time for burglary. Apparently, he’d once told Jones to stop in anytime. So he did. Jones swore he didn’t know anyone was in the basement, and he didn’t know anything about Manello’s extracurricular activities. On that score, Evan believed him.

“You’re talking about the guy who owned the house I found you in?” he asked, needing to be sure.

Noah nodded.

“Did Sheila and Mike have a pool?” he asked, and again Noah nodded. “Did Frank clean their pool?” Another nod. “Did he bring you things, like food or games?”

“Yeah.” Noah cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “How’d you know?”

“It’s my job to know these things.” Like how these a-hole monsters began “the seduction” process, by listening to what kids said, then showering them with attention and gifts, lowering their inhibitions until they got the consent they were after. “After Frank picked you up at the Dunkin’ Donuts, did he take you right back to his house?”

“No.” Noah shook his head. “We went somewhere else. He made me wear a blindfold. It took a long time to drive there, and I think I slept most of the way.”

Or he’d been drugged. So he won’t know where he is. Without a specific location, he couldn’t get a search warrant. “What did Frank tell you about where he was taking you?”

“He said it was a camp with other kids and that it was a cool place. He said I’d like it, and I hated where I was, so…”

So Manello knew Noah was ripe for running away. “Did you like it at the camp?”

“Yeah, at first, anyway. There was lots of food, so I never went hungry. I met Caleb there. We played ball almost every day. They even let me use a computer, but there wasn’t any internet, so that got boring.”

No internet. Everyone had internet these days.

“You said you liked the camp at first. What happened to make you not like it?”

“They started making me get up early every day to feed the sheep and work in the fields. They still gave me a lot of food, but they wouldn’t let me play ball as much, and they took the laptop away. They even took my mitt, and that was mine.” He pointed to his chest. “I brought it with me.”