Diesel pulled the boy in for a hard hug, then let him go. “Good night, Michael. Oh, I ordered an inflatable mattress for you. You can use it for as long as you need to sleep next to Joshua’s bed. That way you’re not on the hard floor. It’ll be delivered sometime after noon, and whoever’s guarding the front door will open the box.”

And when he returned to the bedroom, Dani waited, her face tearstained. Slowly he approached, lowering himself to sit next to her on the bed.

“You’re an amazing man, Elvis Kennedy,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “I am so very proud of you right now.”

“Ditto, Dr. Novak,” he replied lightly, when he really wanted to say three other little words. Maybe on a different night when they weren’t so emotionally raw.

“I’m serious. What you did for Michael . . . I know it wasn’t easy, but for you to trust him with that was . . . Well, I’m proud of you.”

Diesel craved her praise, but wasn’t exactly sure what to do with it. “I couldn’t let him think that he was weak. Or that he was alone.”

She drew a deep breath, then wiped her eyes. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry any more.”

“Don’t. Don’t cry for me.”

“I’m not—not right now anyway. And I will if I want to. But these . . .” She swiped under her eyes again. “These are because you have a beautiful heart. I want to meet Father Dyson even more now. He sounds a lot like my stepfather, Bruce.”

“We’ll invite him out when this is over.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “What are we going to do, Diesel? We can’t hide here forever. We have lives. The boys need a home.”

“I know, and you’re right. But first we’re going to sleep. Tomorrow we’re going to gather everything we know about Cade Kaiser and find him. And make sure he never sees the light of day as a free man ever again.”

Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday, March 19, 2:20 p.m.

“I’m sorry, Dani,” Deacon said soberly. “Still no word on Evelyn Keys.”

Dani gripped the phone a little tighter. She’d put off calling Deacon for a few hours after she’d woken, hoping he’d call her and tell her that Kaiser had been taken into custody while they slept. But she’d finally given in and dialed his number.

“No demands from Kaiser?” she asked, trying not to let her desperation leak into her voice, because though Joshua was far enough away not to hear her words, the child was adept at listening for tone. Which probably had come from years of living with an abusive mother. “He’s not asking for safe passage out of the country or money or anything?”

“No. Nothing.” Deacon’s voice grew muffled. “Be there in a minute.”