Free Her Stolen Son by Rita Herron

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    O N THE WAY to Serena’s house, Colt phoned Ben and explained about the shooting. “Will you email me those files you did with the facial recognition software? I want Serena to look at them.”
    â€œSure. Ben said the news story has been airing about Serena’s arrest and Petey’s kidnapping. We sent over photos of Rice, as well, and we’ve arranged for a tip hotline to come directly to us.”
    Colt sighed. “Thanks.”
    Ben hesitated. “The FBI will probably be showing up any minute.”
    â€œIf they help Petey, they’re welcome to jump in,” Colt said. He turned onto Serena’s street, and noted a media van parked outside. The beginning of the circus. “Dammit. The press is here.”
    Ben grunted. “Might not hurt if the public sees the terrified grieving mother.”
    Colt glanced at Serena. She had dark purple smudges beneath her eyes, her hair was tangled from their run-in with the shooter and she hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. Plus, she was still wearing the jeans and shirt she’d had on when the sheriff had dragged her from her house in handcuffs the morning before.
    She looked too exhausted and emotionally wrung out to deal with the press.
    â€œOh, God,” Serena whispered. “They’ve probably plastered my face on the news and painted me as a murderer.”
    Colt gripped her hand. “When we get out, don’t say anything, Serena. You shouldn’t talk about your arrest or the case without your attorney present.”
    She squeezed his hand. “But I can ask everyone to look for my son, and I’m going to do that.”
    Pasting on a brave face, she opened the door, climbed out and walked up the sidewalk to her front door. A young woman with short wavy brown hair and a red pantsuit approached Serena with a mic, a pudgy cameraman behind her.
    â€œMs. Stover, my name is Lydia Feldman and this is Renny Delaney.” She gestured toward the news van. “Is it true that you’ve been arrested for murdering a man named Lyle Rice?”
    Colt rushed up beside Serena. “Ms. Stover is not at liberty to discuss the charges against her.”
    Lydia arched a brow at him. “Are you her attorney?”
    â€œNo, I’m a detective with GAI, and I’m looking for her missing son.” He gave the woman a pointed look. “However, his kidnapping is a subject Ms. Stover would like to address.”
    A flicker of irritation at deflecting the first question morphed to interest at the mention of the kidnapping. This woman knew the public was hungry to see details on the child abduction.
    Lydia adopted an appropriately sympathetic smile. “Ms. Stover, can you tell us about your son’s abduction?”
    Serena straightened her shoulders. “Someone brokeinto the home where my son was spending the night and stole him from bed, that’s what happened.” Serena’s face flushed with a mixture of emotions, and Colt stroked the small of her back, silently offering support.
    â€œHave you received a ransom call or note?” Lydia asked.
    Serena paled slightly. “No. Not yet. But I want whoever kidnapped my son to know that I will do anything, pay whatever you want, if you’ll just bring Petey home safely.” Her voice broke. “He’s just a little boy. Please don’t hurt him. Just give him back to me….”
    The reporter’s eyes softened then flew back and forth between Serena and Colt. “Do you have any idea who’s behind the kidnapping?”
    Colt stepped up and addressed the mic. “Not yet, but we suspect that whoever kidnapped Petey is the same person who framed Ms. Stover for murder. GAI is asking anyone with information regarding Lyle Rice to please come forward. My office has faxed photographs of him and Petey to the media. Although beware, Lyle Rice has used several aliases before and changed his appearance. Any background