She frowned. "You're right. It is sick, and I need to find that girl, because she's a pawn in this game, and even if she isn't my daughter, I need to make sure that she's safe."
"Then we'll go to the shelter, and we'll take it from there." He grabbed her hand. "And, yes, I am going to hold onto you until we get to the truck, so get over it."
She didn't have to get over it, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "If it makes you feel better, fine."
Eight
Nathan only felt better until he had to let go of Bree's hand and usher her into his truck. As he walked around the vehicle, he felt a cold chill and a deep sense of foreboding that only got worse as he got behind the wheel and started the engine.
Bree was being targeted in a destructive, terrifying manner, forcing her to walk back through the darkest moments of her past. He didn't know if he agreed with her decision to keep the Chicago FBI team out of this, but she knew her business more than he did, so he had to go along with it. What he wasn't going to do was let her go to the shelter on her own.
He rationalized that helping her was also helping Hayley, but deep down, he knew he was still with Bree because he couldn't walk away from her. He'd never been able to do that completely. Sure, he'd kept his distance at times, especially when she was with Johnny, but he'd always been close enough if she'd ever needed him.
And she had. She'd needed him to help her leave town. Even though he'd let her believe that she'd blackmailed him into helping, it wasn't really true. And helping her exit his life had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Even when she'd been with someone else, she'd still been in his life; he could still see her smile, hear her laugh…
Knowing that he would probably never see her again had gutted him.
But knowing that she'd be out of Johnny's power and that she and her child would be safe, would have better lives, had helped him get through it.
He really didn't want her to get sucked back into the quicksand that had once been her life.
But she wasn't going to quit—at least, not yet.
Neither was he.
Glancing over at her, he wondered what she was thinking. She hadn't spoken a word since they'd gotten in the car, and her gaze was on the dark city streets, blocks that were becoming more and more familiar. Mack's Deli, where they'd saved up change to buy a Mack special, which was really just a lot of processed meats and cheese: bologna, pepperoni, Swiss cheese, a mound of lettuce, a couple of tomatoes, and a lot of red onions. They'd loved those sandwiches, usually sharing a half-footer, washing it down with a soda, chasing it with some gummy worms.
It was any wonder they'd survived on the food they'd eaten.
But some days there hadn't been much food at all…
He could still vividly remember the feeling of hunger in the pit of his soul, gnawing away at him, making him feel hollow. But the hunger hadn't been nearly as bad as some of the other emotions he'd had to get through. He'd take an empty stomach any day over the alternative—having to deal with his stepfather, a mean-assed son-of-a-bitch.
Clearing his throat, he was tempted to turn the truck around and speed away as fast as he could.
Bree turned her head, gazing back at him, as if she sensed his sudden discomfort.
"I know," she murmured. "All this sucks. We both have our lives together and now we're going to relive a painful time in our past."
"Are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe you should think about it, sleep on it, come back in the daylight."
"I can't afford to waste any time, Nathan. There's a clue at the shelter, and I have to get it."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because he wouldn't be sending me there unless he has something else to show me."
"Or he wants to hurt you."
"I don't think he's ready to do that yet. He's still in the slow build…savoring the game that he has so carefully put together. He wants to watch me twist in the wind, wonder if this girl is my daughter, worry if I'll find her in time."
"Okay, I have to bring something up," he said abruptly.
"What is it?"
"You've become fixated on the idea that the girl on the train is your daughter."
"That's not true. I know she's probably not."
"There's a part of you that is unsure."
"Well, you did hear the cashier at the café say she looked like me, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I get it. She has brown hair and green eyes. Lots of girls do."
"What's your point?" she snapped.
He made a quick decision and took a turn at the next intersection, then pulled over.
"Why are we stopping?"
"Because we need to have this conversation, and I don't want to be driving while we're having it."
"Okay. What do you want to say?"
He threw the truck into park and turned to look at her. "What about Hayley?"
"What do you mean?"
"If this kidnapper has Hayley, why didn't he just use her to get to you?"
"Well…because she probably wouldn't have done it. This girl might have been paid. She could have been a street kid, who was ready to make some cash. She wasn't afraid. Hayley wouldn't have been able to pull this off."
"All right. That makes sense. But what about Hayley?" he repeated. "Come on, Bree. It has to have crossed your mind that Hayley is also the right age to be your daughter. And she was adopted. If this kidnapper knows you had a kid, and wants to torture you in the worst way possible, how can you not consider the fact that Hayley might be your child?"
Her eyes glittered in the shadowy light. "I did think about it. But her birthdate isn't the same. Hayley was born in Joliet, Illinois, five days before I had my daughter."
"Five days isn’t very long."
"But my child was born in Detroit. And the mother listed on Hayley's birth certificate checked out. We verified that she did give birth in that hospital on that day. Nothing points to Hayley being my kid. She doesn't even look like me."
"Then why did the kidnapper pick her? Why did this person, who you said has been working in the northeast, come to Chicago and pick Hayley as his next victim?"
"I think he came to Chicago because of me. After I botched his last abduction, he wanted revenge, and obviously he did a lot of research on me. He probably thought I'd be weaker here in Chicago, not just because of my past, but because I wouldn't be with my normal team, the team that has been chasing him for months."
He supposed that made sense.
"As for why he picked Hayley?" Bree continued. "All I can say is that she matches the other victims for the most part. Her hair is brown, not blonde, but she has brown eyes, just like the other three girls, who were also around the same age. She lives in an upper-class neighborhood, goes to a good school, and comes from a happy family—also just like the other three girls. Her abduction follows the same patterns as before. She was taken from a school, a place where she should have been safe."
"Were any of those other girls adopted?"
"No, but I'm not sure how he would know that in advance."
"So that's different."
"Yes, and the other difference is that he's pulling me into his game, as well as this other little girl from the train." She blew out a breath. "When I say it all out loud, it sounds crazy. I know that. But there's a good chance this kidnapper is not sane."
"All right. I get it. Hayley fits the pattern. But if he knows you gave up a kid, why didn't he try to find her, take her?"
"Because he can't find her. He might have found out I got pregnant and left town and had a baby, but he doesn't know where my child is. My daughter is safe and far away from here," she said, a desperate note in her voice.
He knew she needed to believe that, and he didn't want to take her hope away, but he wasn't as convinced as she was.
"Can we go now?" she asked.