“Cope,” one of the officers said as he passed. “We found Reagan Hutchison chained up in one of the vacant homes on Victor Street. She’s alive, just dehydrated and malnourished. She’s being transported now. She’s okay. We got her.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Zach’s eyes remained trained on the door, his heart leaping when it began to open. He stood, along with Mr. and Mrs. Davies and their lawyer. Josie entered first, her lawyer following. Zach attempted to make eye contact with her, but she kept her gaze lowered. He tried to read her expression, but whatever she was feeling she was keeping tightly under wraps. His heart ached. He longed to reach out to her, to touch her. He’d driven Josie to the hospital two days before where she’d broken down at Reagan’s bedside, both women laughing and crying and hugging each other until Reagan’s doctor came in and told her she needed to rest. Zach had been caught up in the whirlwind of Charles Hartsman’s disappearance, the crime against the professor, and everything else that had hit the department like a hurricane.
He’d called Josie the few times he’d come up for air, but her friend Rain had answered the phone. She’d assured him in whispered tones that Josie was okay, just sleeping a lot. Rain was staying at her house temporarily and told him haltingly that she could hear Josie pacing her room in the wee hours of the night.
The knowledge just about broke Zach. And a memory came to him from the time he’d stood guard outside her hospital room and seen her pacing late one night through the gaps in the shade of the window that faced the hall. As he’d watched her move back and forth, it’d dawned on him exactly why she had a need to get up and move, after months of being chained and shackled, and that understanding had caused heartache to well inside him. A nurse had gone in her room and scolded her back to bed. Let the poor woman pace, he’d thought. Give her that small mercy. He’d felt so pulled, wanted to enter that room, offer her . . . some sort of solace. Something. But it wasn’t his place, he was merely a sentry.
But now . . . now he wanted so desperately to be there for her, to be the one she turned to in those midnight hours when all hurts run that much deeper. To let her pace if she needed to. Hell, to pace with her if it would help. But he was buried under the fallout of the case. And he knew she was getting ready emotionally to welcome her son home.
He was grateful she’d wanted him here. Her lawyer had called him that morning and said she’d requested the Davies meet her. She was wanting to make the arrangements for Reed to come live with her, he knew. And despite his own internal struggle, he could not blame her. Josie had lost everything, had fought for her life, not once, but twice, and for God’s sake, she deserved some happiness. Family. Someone to love.
No, Zach didn’t blame her. He loved her.
Josie took a seat, placing her hands in her lap. She was pale, shaking, and it took everything in him not to stand and go to her.
She looked up at Emery Davies. “Have you told him yet? About his adoption?”
Color rose in her cheeks and she shook her head. “No, I . . . we”—she glanced at her husband—“were going to and then we heard what happened with you and his birth father.” Tears came to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Josie. We’ve been praying so hard for your healing.” She swallowed, paused. “I hope you know the sincerity of our concern.” She cleared her throat again as though she was barely holding back a sob. “It sort of shifted our focus, but we will. We’ll tell him tonight.”
Josie looked down, her lashes dark crescents on her cheeks. “No,” she choked out and then gathered herself. She looked at her lawyer, seeming unable to utter another word.
Her lawyer turned to the Davies, removing a manila folder from his briefcase. He opened it, extracting a stack of papers stapled at the corner. “Ms. Stratton has had papers drawn up relinquishing all parental rights.”
Zach’s blood went stone cold. Josie sat stock straight, still expressionless.
“What?” Mrs. Davies gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. “Why?”
“Ms. Stratton has determined that it’s in Reed’s best interest that he continue to be raised by you. She has already signed the paperwork. She asks only that you send her a picture and short update annually to the address contained within.”
Mrs. Davies was crying outright, her husband leaned in to her, arm around her shoulder as he obviously struggled to hold on to his own composure. “Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, of course. Of course.”
The Davies stood and Mrs. Davies took the few steps to where Josie was sitting, leaning down, and embracing her. “Thank you. Oh, thank you. We love him so much. Thank you.”
Josie remained stoic, her spine stiff as she allowed the woman to hug her but didn’t return the embrace. When Mrs. Davies leaned back, Josie gave her a small smile and a nod. “Thank you,” she whispered back.
“One last thing,” Josie’s lawyer said. “You, of course, as his parents, will determine the right time to tell him about his adoption. Should it ever be necessary, contained within the file are Ms. Stratton’s health records, and a copy of the birth father’s health records as provided by the city of Cincinnati. There is also a letter Ms. Stratton has written to your son, that he may read at the appropriate time, as determined by you.” He glanced at Josie worriedly. “And with that, this meeting is complete.”
Josie stood, looking slightly unsteady on her feet. Her lawyer took her elbow and they both turned toward the door. The Davies continued to cry softly, Mrs. Davies turning to her husband as they embraced.
Josie and her lawyer left the office and Zach followed along. When he caught up to them at the elevator, he called her name.
She turned, looking shell-shocked with grief. He couldn’t breathe. “Josie,” he repeated.
Her lips trembled, but she managed a small, brave smile. “Just give me some time, Zach,” she said, her voice hoarse with devastation.
He stepped back. Every muscle in his body ached, including his heart. This was killing him. The elevator dinged and Josie and her lawyer, the kind older man Zach had recommended, stepped inside. The doors began to close and Josie’s knees buckled, her lawyer catching her as her first sob broke free.
Zach lunged at the elevator but the doors snapped shut. He splayed his hands out on the cold metal, frustration and heartache knifing into him. Helplessness.
After a moment he stepped back, walking to the window that looked out on the parking lot below. He saw Josie’s lawyer walking her to his car, his arm linked in hers as he obviously supported some if not most of her weight. She had wai
ted as long as she possibly could until her grief had poured free.
He watched the bravest woman he knew get in the car, watched it pull away, the mother who had loved her son with such selfless intensity that she’d let him go. Twice.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX