AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Can I get my turbo blaster, now? Can I?”
“In a minute.”
“How long is a minute? Huh?”
Zane found a produce employee, who hollered, “Hazard spill team to produce!”
Zane gritted his teeth and jockeyed behind Casey to the clothing department, reaching out to snag a third box of ibuprofen as he passed. He assessed the jam-packed clothes racks and parked the cart beside them. “Stay here with the cart,” he ordered the kid. “I’ll be right back.”
Squeezing around the clothing racks and dodging jostling, sharp-elbowed shoppers hell-bent on a bargain, he snatched up jeans, socks and boxer-briefs, randomly grabbed four T-shirts and two cotton button-downs.
Shit, he’d taken less brutal body hits on the football field. Now to get Casey’s toy and blow this nuthouse.
With a sigh, he plowed back to the cart and dumped his load.
The little boy was nowhere in sight. “Casey!” he called.
Exasperated when the child didn’t pop out from behind a display, he called out once more, louder this time. “Casey! Get your buns out here!”
No response.
A knife edge of panic ripped up his spine. Abandoning the cart, he wove a rapid search pattern around the bulging clothing racks.
No Casey.
Panic morphed into cold, greasy terror. Had the sicko who’d been tormenting Jillian managed to snatch the child?
Not a second to waste. During an abduction attempt in a crowded store, successful kidnappers immediately whisked their victims outside. Gut churning, he sprinted to the front of the store. He had to find Casey fast, or he might never find him.
Zane’s frantic gaze ricocheted to the exit doors and parking lot beyond.
Nothing.
Zane veered left and burst into the men’s bathroom, praying fervently that some pervy creep wasn’t hell-bent on molesting his child. Because in that case, Zane was going down for murder one.
It was empty, as was the women’s bathroom.
Caseyhadto still be somewhere in the store. Zane ran to the service desk and reported him missing. As the overhead speakers screeched a code yellow, Zane widened the search, hunting aisle by aisle
Minutes dragged like hours, every horrifying picture of abducted children he’d seen burning through his brain in a nightmare slide show. Nausea curdled his stomach.
If something happened to Casey, he’dneverforgive himself.
A curly-haired toddler darted in front of him. Her chubby arms clutched a bright pink ball and she laughed delightedly. Zane’s frenzied thoughts coalesced, connected.
Toys!
He raced to the toy department at the rear of the store, frantically scanning the overhead signs. Rounding the third aisle, he skidded to a stop.
Casey stood in front of a shelf, reverently fingering a neon turbo water blaster.
Thank you, sweet baby Jesus.
Panting, his heart galloping in his throat choking off his air, Zane propped shaking hands on his rubbery knees and leaned against a post.
“Hey, Zane. Look at this. Isn’t itepic?”
Cold anger devoured the warm rush of relief. He straightened, swayed, unsure whether to hug Casey or throttle him.
