Free A Stranger's Touch by Roxy Boroughs

she realized her mistake. She still wore the sweatshirt. Without her uniform to rely on, she had to punch up the authority in her voice. “Have you seen him?”
    The man grabbed a pair of thick spectacles, stuck them on his nose and leaned in to take a good look. His scent and the aroma of sour milk competed with one another for the Most Pungent Award.
    “Nope. Can’t say I have. He a runaway?” The man gave her a knowing smile, as if he dealt with problem kids daily. His phony sympathy wrapped around her like a sheet of sandpaper.
    She fired back with another question. “What about a tan car? A two-door model, ten or twelve years old?”
    The man’s eyes lit up. “Well, I saw an older car. Just last night, as a matter o’ fact.” He clicked his tongue. “Couldn’t swear to the color. Too dark out. Might have been tan.”
    Her heart misfired then thundered in her ears. “When?”
    “Eleven o’clock. Eleven-thirty, maybe.”
    “Who was driving it?”
    “A woman. About my daughter’s age. Forty or so.”
    Maggie felt a surge of energy. It looked like they’d traced the suspect’s vehicle from Davie’s school to this gas station. The lead renewed her faith. She would find her son. On her own.
    With Stafford taking a turn behind the wheel, they’d managed to cover a lot of ground. Truly, that was the only aid he had to offer. The fact that both the description of the car and the gender of the driver fit the psychic’s visions was nothing more than chance.
    “But you didn’t see the boy?”
    “Nope. No boy. Maybe he stayed in the car.”
    She fought off a creeping chill as hope evaporated from her once more. Maggie whipped out her notebook, going through the motions. “Can you tell me what the woman looked like?”
    The round man rubbed his chins. “About your height. Long, dark hair. Real pale. Kinda jittery.”
    “Nervous?”
    His upper lip curled. “Drugs, I thought.”
    “Did you see her license plate?” Stafford asked.
    “Nope. Didn’t look for one. Only noticed the car because she kept looking out the window at it. I wondered if she had a Porsche and was afraid someone was gonna steal it.” The man chuckled, a wet laugh that ended in a cough.
    If Davie were in the car, the woman’s behavior made sense. “Did she mention where she was headed?”
    The man closed his eyes as he thought. “Mmmmm. Not really. Said she needed enough gas to get to High Level—hey, where ya going?”
    Maggie barely caught the man’s last words. She and Stafford were already halfway out the door.
    * * *
    Davie rested his head against the car window, watching the trees whoosh by as they sped along. The rising sun peeked through the branches, jabbing his eyes and making him squint.
    He sucked in a breath. It whistled all the way down to his lungs. He took another, trying not to make any noise. He didn’t want the woman freaking out again.
    Last night, she’d yelled, and cried, and said weird things that didn’t make any sense. About how he was scaring her.
    Davie couldn’t figure out how he scared her . She was way bigger and way scarier. When she was upset, her face went all red and her eyes looked like they were going to jump right out of her head.
    He could see part of her in the rearview mirror. She didn’t seem to notice that he was still breathing funny. She seemed happy—smoking and singing along with the music on the radio.
    He inhaled again and choked. He covered his mouth with the crook of his arm and coughed into his sleeve . His chest was already tight from that gunk she’d used on him. He could still smell it. All around himself.
    Davie leaned back. He knew he had to relax. It was the only way to get through the attack without his inhaler.
    He turned toward the window and saw a face in the glass, a boy he didn’t recognize. The image startled him, until he realized it was his own self, staring back at him.

Chapter Six
    “I’ m looking for a young boy.”
    Maggie placed her son’s photo in