Free Gone by Mallory Kane Page A

face filled the screen. Marcie gasped in surprise when she saw it. “Oh, Joe. Look at him. What’s he holding?”
    Joe zoomed in on Joshua’s hands, so close Marcie could see the date on the newspaper he held.
    “It’s today’s! It’s Joshua and he’s okay! Joe!”
    Joe clicked the mouse to zoom the photo outward until the full photo was visible.
    “He’s crying. Do you think they hurt him?” Marcie said, her voice breaking. She reached out as if to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “Zoom in. I want to look at his face.”
    “I’m trying to see what kind of place they’re holding him in. But it’s dark.”
    “Do you think they’re making him stay in the dark?”
    “No, hon,” Joe said. “See? I misspoke. It’s not really that dark, just a little too dim to see much of the room. You’re positive that’s Joshua?”
    “What? Of course it is. Why would you ask?”
    “It’s been two years. I just need to be absolutely sure.”
    Marcie put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Go back up to his eyes. Remember that tiny mole just above his right eyelid?”
    “Tiny mole?”
    She chuckled. “It’s just above the fold of his right eyelid. See? Right there?”
    Joe looked more closely. “That’s a mole? I never noticed it.”
    “You’re just his father. I’m his mother,” she said teasingly, leaning down and pressing her cheek against his hair.
    He sighed deeply in relief. He looked up at her. “It’s Joshua.”
    “Our child is alive. He’s healthy. I don’t think he’s crying there because he’s hurt. I think he’s angry—probably because he has to hold the paper.” She pointed at the screen. “See the little wrinkle in his forehead? He always looks like that when he doesn’t get what he wants. Such a deep little frown.”
    She smiled and went on. “The woman took good care of him, and now we’re going to get him back. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so happy in my life.” She took a long breath. “I can’t wait to have him back.”
    “I know,” Joe said. “Me, too. I wish I could have gotten a glimpse of him at Rhoda’s house, but I did hear her talking to him. She does love him. And he called her Gramma. I think you’re absolutely right. I think he’s just fine.”
    Joe switched screens and pulled up the second photo that Howard had sent. It was a close-up of the label inside the neck of the tiny shirt Joshua had been wearing the day he was abducted. Joe studied it, then zoomed in and studied it some more. “It’s blurred,” he muttered.
    Marcie leaned in and looked at it more closely. “Yes, but you can make out the letters, colors and pattern. It’s one of the labels your mother had monogrammed for us when he was born.”
    “You sewed all those in his clothes?”
    “Yes,” she said. “You mean you never noticed?”
    He was still studying the label. “I knew there were labels with his name on them, but I couldn’t tell you what they looked like. You’re a hundred percent positive?”
    “Yes. The font, the color and my awful, uneven stitching. I still have some, if you want to compare.”
    He shook his head. “Nope.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, then got up and started pacing.
    “What’s wrong?” Marcie asked. “Is it the money?”
    “Of course it’s the money,” he said. “In fact, I need to go to the bank and get it. I have no idea what I’m going to tell them.”
    “You don’t have to tell them anything, do you? How much do we...do you have anyway? Do you really have a hundred thousand dollars?”
    Joe gave her a searching look. “Marcie, we have a little over a hundred thousand, plus Joshua’s trust that Kit set up, which we can’t touch.” He frowned. “I guess I could borrow another hundred K from her, with Joshua’s trust as collateral.”
    “Oh,” Marcie said as a thought occurred to her. Kit Powers, Joe’s mother, was rolling in money. “Maybe that’s why they thought you could get half a million dollars.