Free Hear the Children Calling by Clare McNally

said. “Has he moved to another precinct?”
    “Are you a friend?” the woman asked chattily. “You’re a little late. Mr. Dylan moved away about, oh, five or six years ago.”
    Jill shot to her feet, her eyes opened wide; Six years ago—about the time of the accident!
    Calm down, Jill! It’s just a coincidence.
    “If you give me your name and number, I can have him call—”
    “It would be easier for me to call him,” Jill interrupted, quickly fabricating a story. “You see, we’re having a class reunion, and I’d like to invite him. He’d be terribly disappointed if he didn’t receive an invitation.”
    She heard the woman mumble something. “I’ve got a crowd here at the desk,” she said. “Trouble at the local gin mill. Here, I’ll give you Craig’s number. Just don’t say where you got it from, because I’m not sure I was supposed to give it out.” She rattled off the number.
    “That’s not a Michigan area code,” Jill pointed out.
    “It’s Florida,” the voice said. “Fort Lauderdale, Florida.”
    Jill hung up and dialed Craig Dylan’s new number.
    After just three rings, a woman’s weary voice came over the line. “Yes?”
    “May I speak to Detective Dylan please?”
    There was a pause.
    “Who—who is this?”
    “My name is Jill Sheldon, and I—”
    “What do you want from us?” the woman cut in.
    “I need to speak with the detective,” Jill said, confused by the woman’s tone. “I’m sorry to call so late, but it’s urgent.”
    She heard a man’s voice in the background and the woman saying who was on the line. There were words that sounded like an argument and then a man’s voice came over the line.
    “Mrs. Sheldon,” Craig Dylan said. “How did you find me?”
    “From your old precinct,” Jill said. “Please, Defective Dylan, something has come up regarding Ryan’s accident. It’s important that I talk with you.”
    “What—what’s wrong?” There was an uneasy tone in the detective’s voice.
    “I have reason to believe Ryan is alive,” Jill said. “There’s a very strong possibility that he wasn’t the child they found in my husband’s car. I remember you saying there were some questions about the case, but you never elaborated. I need to know now what you meant by that.”
    “I don’t remember saying anything like that,” Craig replied. “Mrs. Sheldon, what makes you think there was a mistake?”
    Jill told him about Deliah, ending her story with the woman’s accident.
    “Maybe I’m crazy to believe someone like that,” Jill said, “but I’ve got to find out for myself. And I don’t know of anyone else who can help me.”
    “You’re not crazy,” Craig answered. “Look, Mrs. Sheldon, there’s only one piece of advice I can give you: forget about Ryan. Forget whatever it is this Deliah person told you. Maybe Ryan is alive—I don’t know. I had doubts myself. But I can assure you the people responsible for the accident will not let you get to him. You want him safe? Forget about him. Because even if he is alive, they’ll kill him before they give him back to you.”
    “Who’ll kill him?” Jill demanded.
    “Forget about it, will you?” Craig said. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. These are terribly dangerous people. If they find out you’re looking for Ryan—”
    “Then he is alive,” Jill gasped. “Where is he? You’ve got to tell me where he is.”
    “I can’t,” Craig answered. “I just can’t!”
    Now Jill was screaming, tears running from her eyes. “You bastard! You can’t keep my little boy from me. Where is he?”
    It was Craig’s wife who came back on the line.
    “My husband doesn’t know a thing,” she said, her voice cold. “Please don’t try to call us again.”
    There was a click. Jill called into the receiver, but no one answered. They had hung up on her.
    “No, you don’t,” she said. Her hand was trembling as she redialed the Dylans’ number. This time, she reached a busy