Page 20 of Be Courageous

He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket and checked his watch. “We’re breaking for lunch,” he announced, getting looks of agreement from the others. “We can brainstorm our next move while we wait for forensics.”

* * *

Stooped over, with his ankles bound to his wrists, Grayson shuffled out of the little bathroom under the stairs and froze. The shotgun was propped against Brian’s chair, forgotten, while Brian himself was in the kitchen, out of sight, cooking what smelled like pasta.

Grayson’s stomach rumbled, but all thoughts of eating took a back seat as he beheld the shotgun just standing there. It looked like the one his father used when hunting.

His heart began to thump. He looked down at himself. Could he raise the shotgun when he hadn’t even been able to pee standing up?

Buckshot doesn’t require accuracy. Just point and fire.

His father’s advice sounded in his head, right when he needed it. When he was eleven, his father had taken him hunting for deer. A beautiful doe had wandered into the clearing while they were hunkered up in a tree stand.

“Just point and fire,”whispered his father. Grayson had centered the crosshairs right over the doe’s heart when his dad pushed the barrel down.“Wait.”

A fawn had ambled into the clearing to join its mother. They’d both stared at it before looking at each other, chagrined to have nearly killed the baby’s mother. Ultimately, they’d gone home from their hunting trip empty-handed but with no regrets.

Grayson had no intention of killing Brian, either. Buckshot punched multiple holes in the target, and he didn’t want to see that. On the other hand, maybe he could use the shotgun to barter for his freedom.

He shuffled closer to the chair, inspecting the weapon more closely. It was exactly like the one his father had taught him to shoot! What’s more, if he sat down, he had enough slack in the rope to pick up the shotgun and hold it.

With his knees quaking, he dropped into Brian’s chair. The ex-con was stirring something on the stove and didn’t notice. The smell of onion and garlic made Grayson’s stomach burn. He’d never been so hungry. Grabbing the barrel with both his bound hands, he hefted the shotgun, careful not to bump it on the side of the chair as he worked his hands down the frame, past the loading port, to the grip. He had just tucked the stock under his arm when Brian peeked his head out of the kitchen.

“Hey, you done in…” The man’s words died. He gaped in surprise at Grayson who was pointing the shotgun directly at him.

Say something. “I want you to let me go.” His voice came out fearless and confident. “If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.” That was a bald lie, but Brian didn’t know him.

To his surprise, his abductor threw back his grizzly head and guffawed.

Grayson scowled at him, trembling with frustration. Brian kept bellowing with mirth, his laughter getting louder. The man wasn’t taking him seriously enough. Pulling back the bolt, Grayson went to drop a shell into the chamber to show the man he was serious. The subsequent hollow click told him the reason for his captor’s glee. The shotgun wasn’t even loaded.

Grayson lowered the weapon to his lap, then flinched against the back of the chair, expecting retribution.

Brian sobered, wiping a tear of hilarity from his face. But with liquid boiling over in the kitchen, he was forced to attend to it. Grayson eyed the impotent weapon. Had the shotgun ever been loaded? Was Brian carrying the shells in his pocket, or had he just used the shotgun to scare him?

If he wasn’t going to kill Grayson or ransom him for money—since he didn’t even seem to own a cell phone—why, then, had he bothered kidnapping him?

A terrible notion stole into Grayson’s mind. Maybe Brian was keeping him here to take Tommy’s place.

CHAPTER6

Faith awoke in a hotel room—in the only respectable hotel in Moyock—dismayed that she’d actually slept while her son was in the clutches of a kidnapper. What kind of awful mother was she?

It was Fitz who’d insisted on getting her a room. “Just rest for a little while. There’s nothing we can do right now but question more people while we wait for forensics to get back to us.”

The barbeque sandwich she’d eaten for lunch had filled her belly and lulled her to sleep in the king-sized bed. She sat up, dismayed to see a twilight sky through the open curtains. A glance at the bedside clock confirmed her realization that it was nearly evening already. She had slept the afternoon away!

Lunging for her cell phone, she expected to find an update from Fitz, but only Grace had texted her, sending a reassuring picture of her two boys playing with Olivia and another of her husband, Amos, holding Mary Mae with a smitten look on his face.

Keep us posted,Grace had written.

Faith texted her back:No news yet except we found Grayson’s backpack and his cell phone. Waiting on forensics.

Then she called Fitz, pleased when he answered on the first ring. “What did forensics say?”And why did you let me sleep so long?She bit back the second question.

“Come on downstairs. We’re just off the lobby in the little conference room.”

His dampening tone informed her they’d made very little progress. Crushed, Faith closed her eyes as she absorbed the disappointment. “I’ll be right down.”