On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [117]
Devon moved as if he wanted to come around the desk to her, but Lilah took an involuntary step back. He stopped, holding himself still with visible effort.
“Tucker is missing. Grant called because we thought, you know, he’s run off before. Maybe he would come to you.” Hope blazed in his eyes, turning them electric blue, but his voice stayed monotone and grating. “He didn’t, did he?”
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Lilah said, the bottom dropping out of her stomach. “No, I haven’t heard from him. Oh, Devon. Oh, my God.”
The cracked leather of the old office chair squeaked under his weight as he dropped back into it. He put the phone back to his ear. “No. I just talked to her, she says she hasn’t seen him. I don’t know anything else to tell you. Come on, Connor, I need you. What else can I try?”
Lilah swayed on her feet and Grant was there, putting his arm around her and tugging her over to the sofa in the corner. “Sit, hon. Breathe. It’s going to be okay, we’ll find him. I’m sure he just needed a little break. Like that time he hid from you in the restaurant, remember?”
“How long has he been missing?” Lilah choked out.
“He was gone when Devon woke up this morning around eight. He’s on the phone with his brother now, I guess he’s a cop in Jersey. The NYPD is already on the case; with a missing child, you don’t have to wait twenty-four hours to file the report, so that’s really good, Lolly.”
“How can anything about this be good?” she cried. Tears were slipping down her cheeks, but she hardly noticed beyond the sudden stuffiness of her nose and head. “Tucker could be out there, for who knows how long, all alone and scared. Oh . . .” She gasped as a new thought occurred to her. “What if someone took him?”
The office chair screeched across the floor. Devon’s face was bloodless and stark with the purest terror she’d ever seen. Lilah’s heart stopped.
He lifted the phone back to his ear and said in an unnaturally even voice, “Con? There’s one more lead to follow. Tucker’s mother is in a rehab facility upstate, I can’t remember the name. An Officer Santiago here in the city would know. Have her check and make sure Heather Sorensen is where she’s supposed to be.”
Replacing the phone gently on the receiver, Devon looked over at Lilah. His eyes were like holes burnt in a sheet, stark pools of fear in his white face. “I have to go home. I only came here because I thought there was a chance he might show up at the restaurant. But the cops say I should wait at the apartment, in case he comes back there.”
“Well, I’m coming with you,” Lilah said, pushing to her feet. “No arguments, mister. You might think you don’t need other people, but you are not going through this alone. Not if I can help it.”
A little color swept Devon’s high cheekbones. Gratitude was a better look on him than sheer panic. “Let’s go, then. Grant?”
“I’ll hold down the fort,” Grant said.
They trooped upstairs and Devon went immediately to Frankie’s side. “I need your help. I’ve got to leave. Now. Can you take charge of the kitchen?”
Frankie passed a hand over his brow, his mouth firm and, for once, serious. He pressed his lips together, and Lilah caught the glimmer of nerves in the way his fingers tightened briefly, but all he said was, “You can count on me, Chef. Do what you have to do. Bring Tucker home, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Devon said. “I will.” He stood up straighter and when he turned back to her, there was a new layer of strength hardening into a tight lid over the roiling emotions beneath the surface.
Any doubts that had resurfaced in Lilah’s mind about Devon’s ability to love his son died in that moment.
“Lilah Jane? Are you with me?”
She swallowed around the lump in her throat.
“I am.”
It was the longest drive of Devon’s life. Paolo couldn’t seem to maneuver the town car through the traffic quickly enough.
When they finally pulled up in front of the apartment building, Devon had the doors open and one foot out of the car before Paolo could get out to perform his duties.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sparks,” the chauffeur panted.