Free Furious by T. R. Ragan

the envelope.
    “Are you OK?”
    She nodded.
    Beth didn’t look convinced, but she filled the silence with her story of what she’d seen that day. “I’ve been collecting pictures of males I thought resembled the men I saw driving your husband’s car that day. I made the suspect sheets while it was all fresh in my mind, figuring you or the police might need more information.”
    Faith was impressed and thankful. “Did you see my husband return home from work that day?”
    “No. I had only been home for five minutes before I saw you and the kids arrive home. I had let Prince out and I was watering the plants out front when you drove by.”
    “I remember.”
    “Minutes after I turned off the water I heard your screams for help. I put the dog back in the house and went to grab my cell phone, but it took some time. Before I made it to the road, I saw your husband’s SUV speeding off. If they hadn’t been forced to slow down to make the sharp turn out of your driveway, I wouldn’t have seen their faces at all.”
    “Did you see—”
    “No. I didn’t see either of the kids. But the windows were tinted, and my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. Since you’re here, I’m assuming neither of them have been found.”
    “No. Not yet.” Faith’s fingers brushed over the scar on her neck once again. “There were three men.”
    “I only saw two,” Beth said.
    “Do you think they saw you when they were leaving?”
    She shrugged. “If they did, I’m not worried. I have a fondness for guns, and I keep a loaded pistol close at hand.”
    The woman was full of surprises. Faith held up the envelope. “Mind if I keep this?”
    “It’s all yours.”
    They both stood. When they got to the door, Faith said, “There aren’t too many people who would or could have done what you did that day. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
    “You’ve got plenty enough to worry about. Just take care of yourself.”
    “You, too,” Faith said.
    “For what it’s worth,” Beth added, “I’ll be keeping a close eye on things around here.”
    Faith thanked her, then gave her a well-meaning but awkward hug before heading for home. The door clicked shut behind her. Up ahead, two beams of sunlight squeezed their way between bloated gray clouds. Faith crossed the road and walked slowly down her driveway toward her house. She went to the area where she’d seen Craig’s GMC parked that day. She could still see exactly where the tires had broken a sprinkler head and destroyed the lawn. There was absolutely no way Craig would have driven onto the grass unless something had been wrong. Had he been trying to leave her a sign? Trying to let her know things were not right inside the McMann household?
    A twinkle of metal caught her attention. The grass around the tire tracks had grown tall, but there was something there. She got down on her knees. Between blades of grass, half-buried in the soil, was a button. She picked it up, examined it. She couldn’t make out the design. It was dirty and tarnished. As she came to her feet, a thought struck her. Why us? Why Lara and Hudson?
    The question wasn’t a pitiful cry to heaven above, but merely speculation of what might have happened that day. The thought repeated itself. Why would they take the kids? If human traffickers were involved, where would she start? Who could she talk to?
    It was too soon to rule any one thing or person out of the equation. Was Jana on to something? Had Craig been acting strange in the days leading up to the attack? He and his partner had started their own investment company, H&M Investments, eight years ago. Craig was an investment adviser. If anything he’d always run on the prudish side of things. Nothing made sense.
    She looked at the broken sprinkler. Nobody had seen another car in the area.
    Could those men have been in the car with Craig from the beginning? If so—why? He never would have brought them to the house