If a zebra could locate her young in a herd of thousands by her offspring’s call alone, shouldn’t Liv be able to identify her own son in this mass of wet humanity?
When the pressure on her chest became too much, she did the one thing every parent dreaded doing. The one thing that signaled to the rest of the world that you’re a terrible mother. That you’ve lost your child.
“Brodie!” she yelled, startling a teenaged girl next to her.
Taking her cue, Zeke did the same, adding his deep baritone to her calls.
They moved through the indoor water park, calling Brodie and Sadie’s names, eliciting a range of spectator responses from concerned to irritated to where’s-my-own-child to indifference.
Liv’s pulse quickened when she spotted two familiar figures standing on the far side of the room. They watched something in the pool before them, faint smiles on their faces.
No terror, no confusion, no distraction.
Releasing a long, shuddering breath, she got Zeke’s attention and pointed to the spot where her aunt and his mother watched over their charges.
The moment she reached the water’s edge, she peered down to find Sadie’s father, Alejandro, rising from beneath the water, a gun in his hand. Brodie and Sadie shrieked, tried to run away, but the pressure from the water made their movements sluggish. Alejandro squeezed the trigger and a line of water bolted from the weapon and hit Brodie in the back of the head. Her son’s body jerked, and he melted beneath the water.
With wide eyes and an even wider smile, Sadie yelled, “No, Papa! No!” as she dove away from her father.
“You can’t hide from me, my pretty,” Alejandro said in his best Wicked Witch of the West voice.
Liv grappled for the nearest Adirondack as her legs buckled. She covered her mouth and nose with her hands, dragging in deep, ragged breaths. Zeke cocked a hip on the chair’s wide arm and placed a hand on her shoulder, massaging away the tension.
The firm warmth of his hand almost made the tears crowding behind her eyes surface, but somehow she kept herself in check. Somehow, she held back the puke.
“What are you two doing here?” Aunt Belinda asked, her gaze snapping to scan the surrounding area.
“Where’s your phone?” Liv asked.
“Right here.” She raised her hand where she’d held it at her side.
“Battery dead?”
“Shouldn’t be. I charged it before I left the house.” Her aunt glanced down at the display and frowned. “Ninety-two percent.”
Zeke checked his own phone. “The reception is for shit here.”
“What’s going on?” Lynette asked, joining them.
“They’ve been trying to call us, but there’s no signal,” Aunt Belinda said.
“But we sent you a message as soon as we arrived,” Lynette said.
“Were you inside or outside?” Zeke asked.
Her aunt frowned. “As we were coming in.”
Liv met Zeke’s eyes. “He kept cutting out.”
Zeke nodded. “It got harder to hear him after he cleared the ticket booth.”
“He who?” Belinda asked.
Liv peered over her shoulder, and Brodie waved right before making a dive for Alejandro’s water gun.
“The man who stabbed me. He was here.” Something had niggled at the back of Liv’s mind ever since the disturbing phone call. It hunkered in the shadows, though she could see its glowing eyes mocking her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t coax the thought forward into the light.
Hoping distance would eventually jog it free, she released a tension-filled breath and shook the abundance of adrenaline from her trembling hands. Lifting her phone, she showed the two women the picture Jackson had sent her less than thirty minutes ago.