Chasing Second Chances Read Online Free

and so they were utterly shocked and devastated, Mrs. Morrow breaking into tears, much to Nick’s dismay. Even when she had calmed down, she could not tell him anything, saying that as far as she knew, Charlene did not have a boyfriend or any reason to kidnap the children, insisting that her daughter was as much a victim as the Evans children were.
    Nick understood why she felt that way. It was natural for any mother to want to believe she had raised her child well enough to abide by the laws.
    He wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, though. As the ‘adult’ in the Evans house, Charlene was responsible for the safety of Jack and Lena, and if she did not kidnap them herself—a possibility he considered unlikely since if she was going to kidnap them, she could have done so the day after Kate Evans had left, and the neighbor across the street, Mrs. Duncan, confirmed that she had seen Charlene three days ago—then she had failed to fulfill her responsibility in some way.
    Personally, Nick suspected that Charlene’s boyfriend—the fact that her mother didn’t know she had a boyfriend did not mean she did not have one—might have come to the house and proposed the kidnapping, though he could not tell why he did not do so right away. The drops of blood on the rug and the broken phone indicated a struggle, which could mean that Charlene might have tried to dissuade her boyfriend from his plan and got hit. It could also mean that she and her boyfriend might have fought over something else, in the process of which the boyfriend got violent, and, not satisfied with hitting Charlene, ended up taking her and the kids away to vent his anger out on them, which would explain why there was no call demanding any ransom.
    But then, that latter scenario meant Charlene and the kids were likely dead.
    Nick shook his head. No, it must be the former scenario and perhaps the only reason why the boyfriend had not called was because he was biding his time, or maybe because he wasn’t sure Kate was home yet.
    It was only a suspicion, though. Only the forensics unit could come up with solid information, like who the blood drops belonged to, or who Charlene was talking to on her phone before it got smashed to pieces, or who the fingerprints on the doorknobs—not only on the front door but the doors to the kids’ rooms—belonged to.
    Or at least he hoped they would.
    It would take time, though—processing evidence was not exactly as quick as it was on television—and in the meantime, he would have to go back to his desk to fill out some paperwork and make some calls.
    But first he was going to get himself a cup of strong coffee.
    * * * *
    Kate set down her empty cup of coffee in the middle of the sink.
    She had not really needed the coffee, knowing that she would have stayed awake all night even without it, but now that she had finished a cup, she was glad. Her mind felt clearer and she felt less tired, calmer even, which was strange since she thought coffee made one more anxious. Then again, her mind could just be playing tricks on her.
    Whatever the case, she felt better and she was grateful for it. Now that her mind was clear, she could think about what she could do.
    But what could she do?
    She thought about circulating her children’s pictures on the internet, but decided not to, unsure of what the ill effects of that might be. She thought of consulting a psychic, but dismissed that, too, thinking that she did not know of any reliable psychic and was unsure if one truly existed. She, thought, too, of getting a dog who could sniff out her children’s tracks, but weren’t the police supposed to try that one? Hadn’t they already done so?
    In the end, she could do nothing but wrap her fingers around the locket she wore around her neck and slump on the dining table, her helplessness causing tears to well up again. It was the worst feeling one could feel—helplessness, and a hundred times worse because she was a mother. As a mother,