"All right, then, my friend, I guess I'll have one of Big Bob's burgers all by myself."

Davey made his sign for Sheba, a petting motion.

"Don't worry," she told him. "We'll go by the house and see Sheba before we have dinner. Deal?"

He nodded, but then his eyebrows came together in a worried frown.

"What are you thinking about?" She tied a strip of green ribbon around the packed box, added the label and the buyer's name. Then she checked off the name on her master list.

Davey moved his lips, though no sound came out, shoved his hands into imaginary jacket pockets, slouched his shoulders and narrowed his eyes in what could only be an imitation of Kade.

Sophie giggled. "You're a little mimic, you know it? You have Kade down pat." He also imitated the preacher at church from time to time and had taken to flouncing around with lips pursed to indicate Ida June. "I think Kade is making you ornery."

Davey hunched his shoulders in a silent laugh.

"I don't know what's taking so long, sweetie, but Kade will be here when he finishes his business. You can count on that."

He could always count on Kade, and Sophie instinctively knew she could, too.

They packed up the rest of the cookies and left Sophie's classroom. The building was empty and silent except for the principal's office. When she passed by, he spotted her and beckoned her inside.

"Sophie, do you have a minute?"

What else could she say? "Of course."

Holding back a sigh, she ushered Davey into the principal's office.

"Hello, Davey," Biff said.

Davey, eyes wide and intimidated, nodded and burrowed close to Sophie.

The principal said, "He's getting attached."

"So am I."

He pushed aside a pad of paper and smiled. This was apparently a friendly visit. "You can sit down. I won't bite."

"Thank you, Biff, but Davey and I are headed to Bob's to have some dinner."

As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Biff would think she was hinting.

Sure enough, he said, "Why don't you let me come along and I'll buy?"

Dismayed, Sophie pressed her lips together, searching for a gentle way to say no.

"Mr. Gruber," she said, holding up the shield of professionalism, "I appreciate the kind offer. Really, I do."

His smile froze. "But?"

"I'm seeing someone." She hadn't meant to say that, wasn't even sure it was true, though Kade held her heart.

The smile was gone now. "McKendrick, I suppose?"

Great. What would Kade think about her announcing a fledgling relationship to the world? "Yes."

"I see." He straightened his shirt cuffs with a quick tug. "Don't let me keep you, then."

"Didn't you want to speak to me about something?" Sophie asked.

"Nothing important." His tone as cold as January, he turned his attention to what looked to be a letter on his desk. "If you'll excuse me..."

Feeling she should say something but not knowing what, Sophie turned to leave, one hand on Davey's shoulder. As she passed through the open door, Biff said softly, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Biff's odd comment nagged at her as she and Davey headed toward Ida June's to pick up the dog. By the time they'd gotten burgers and fries she'd decided Biff had been showing concern or maybe jealously, and let it go. After delivering several dozen cookies, she and Davey headed to her house where they read and watched a kid movie and kept an ear tuned for Kade's car.

When the boy and dog started to doze on the love seat, Sophie flipped off the television and stared out the window at the silent night. The neighbors' Christmas lights chased each other around the roofline while a blow-up snowman stood sentry on the lighted front porch. Somewhere Kade followed a lead that must have significance or he would have come home by now. She leaned her forehead against the cold windowpane, thinking of him, longing to see him, but longing more to know what was going on.

Please, Lord, let this be a real break, not another dead end that sends Kade into a broody silence and keeps Davey in limbo.

And please, heal whatever is broken inside the man I love.

Kade leaned his back against the cold siding, thankful-so thankful-Sophie and Davey were not with him tonight. Flecks of peeling white paint scratched against the leather of his jacket. He sucked in long drafts of night air, so desperately cold inside that the thirty-degree air warmed him.

He squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed a hand over them, wishing he could wipe away what he'd discovered in the remote, ramshackle dwelling Davey had once called home.

A hand lightly cuffed his shoulder. "Tough thing."

Kade jerked to attention. No use going soft in front of Chief Rainmaker. "I didn't expect this."

"Who would?" Rainmaker rubbed his sandpapery palms together against the night chill. Neither he nor Jesse had jurisdiction in this area, but the county sheriff had granted them courtesy. Already, at his call, a team of investigators crawled over the place, probably the first people to visit Davey's mother in a very long time.

And she was dead.

He ground his teeth together, stomach raging-hot fire. "What do you think killed her?"

The Native American eyed him thoughtfully. "From all appearances, she died of natural causes. No signs of foul play, no forced entry. Nothing to indicate suicide."

"Just a dead woman and a messy house," Kade said grimly.

"Mostly the kitchen. Evidence that Davey was alone with his deceased mother for some time before hunger drove him to seek food and help."

Kade's fist clenched and unclenched. "I don't like thinking about Davey alone in this house with a mother he couldn't wake up."

"Nor do I, but empty cupboards and refrigerator, dirty dishes and spilled milk. They all point to a child fending for himself."

"And trying to take care of his mother." Kade closed his eyes again tightly, fighting the images in the woman's bedroom. He desperately wanted to talk to Sophie. Somehow she'd make him believe everything would work out for the best. She would pray and God would listen.

But he didn't want her here to see this. Knowing would hurt her badly enough. "The mother must have been sick for a while."

"Probably." Jesse shuffled his boots against the hard-packed ground. His equipment rattled. "When she didn't waken, he covered her with blankets."

Yanking a tight rein on his emotions, Kade turned toward the rickety front porch. "Let's get back in there. We've got a job to do."

Jesse's thoughtful gaze stayed on him. "You don't have to do this, McKendrick. The county boys can handle it."

"I started it," he said grimly. "This time, I finish."

Rainmaker couldn't know what he meant, but he'd been a cop long enough to understand the sentiment. Kade had something to prove, if only to himself.

"Davey is lucky to have you on this in the first place. We might not have found her for months without your extra efforts."

A car door slammed and both men looked toward a technician carrying in a satchel of equipment. Trees surrounding the yard shed eerie, fingerlike shadows over the run-down dwelling and the professionals doing their macabre duty.

"Had to do something, though this doesn't help Davey at all." He spoke through clenched teeth, deeply angry at a situation he could not fix. Once again, he'd been too late to make a difference. "None."

"Even as bad as the outcome," Jesse said with quiet authority, "you did an exceptional job. My timing may be off, but let me say it anyway. I could use you on my force. Granted, we can't compare to Chicago-"

Kade interrupted him with a sour laugh. "I'll think about it. Later."

The answer surprised him a little. He had every intention of returning to Chicago as soon as the shrink released him. Still, Jesse deserved the courtesy of consideration.

The two men stepped onto the old porch, a wooden structure about to cave in.

Rainmaker's heavy boots made hollow sounds on the loose boards. "Walk easy."

"And carry a big stick?" Kade asked wryly.

Jesse huffed softly at the humor, a cop's major protection against the stress that could lead to insanity. "Yeah."

They entered the house. Even though every light blazed and a beehive of uniformed men and woman worked, an empty coldness sucked the warmth from Kade's bones. In his experience, death did that to a place. "Maybe something in this house will give us Davey's full name."

A technician handed them both a pair of gloves. "You know the drill," she said.

Yes, he knew the drill, better than he wanted to. With heart aching for a blue-eyed boy he'd grown to love, he moved through the small dwelling. Davey had lived in this shabby, run-down place. The investigators had to collect every piece of evidence to rule out foul play, but he agreed with Chief Rainmaker. Nothing pointed to homicide. Nothing pointed to anyone living here except Davey and the woman who appeared to be his mother.

Kade stepped on a spongy bit of floor. The weak boards squeaked and gave slightly beneath his weight. "This house is about to fall down."

Jesse, hawk eyes soaking in every detail, nodded. "Can't argue. You going back in the bedroom?"

Back there with the body, he meant. "Yeah. Got to."

Jesse gave him that look again as though trying to see inside his head. Might as well forget that. Even Kade didn't understand, but he felt compelled to be here, compelled to know answers to the questions Davey would someday ask.

A masked and gowned officer, broad as he was tall, shouldered past the two men. "The coroner is on his way. ETA ten minutes." He made a wry face. "Didn't like being woken up. This kind of thing doesn't happen very often around here."

Well, it happened often to Kade. Maybe there was something to the quiet, small-town life.

Wearing the offered masks, he and Jesse entered the room. Several hours ago, Kade had found her. He'd been alone then, with Jesse Rainmaker on the way. He'd knocked, peeked in windows, called out and finally entered the seemingly abandoned house. The moment he'd opened the door, the smell of death had slapped him backward. With terrible knowledge and a dread deeper than the Redemption well, he'd gone inside.

The blanket he'd pulled over her face had now been replaced by a yellow plastic sheet. He'd never found the covering inadequate before. But for Davey's mom, the plastic was too impersonal and cold.

"Did you see the dog?" he asked quietly, gesturing toward the outlined shape of a stuffed animal. "I'm guessing that toy was Davey's favorite, and he left it behind to comfort his mother. He loves dogs."

"Lord, have mercy." The usually unflappable Jesse shuddered. "Grisly situation for a little kid."

Kade had seen worse. Though his heart hurt so badly for Davey, he wanted to hit something. "The doc said some kind of trauma made him stop talking."

Now he realized his idea of what caused the trauma had been way off. Kidnapping, abuse. Under the circumstances, he wasn't sure which was worse. Davey had awakened one morning to find his mother dead. He'd been hungry, scared, alone. No wonder he couldn't speak.

Jesse's voice was muffled behind the white mask. "Now that we know the cause, we can get him help to deal with the loss. Maybe he'll come out of it and talk again."

Maybe. But maybe he never would.

"How does a kid ever deal with this? How can he erase the memories and terror?" Kade clenched his fist tight, fingers digging into his palms. He would never forget. How could Davey? "Think how helpless he felt. He's a little kid. He could do nothing to stop what happened. Not one single thing."

A flash of young, helpless faces momentarily blinded him. He was projecting, the shrink would say. Forget the shrink. Kade knew how Davey felt, except Kade could have stopped what happened...and hadn't.

Sophie called in a substitute teacher on Tuesday morning. At eight o'clock she was still shaking, though Kade had arrived at daylight with the news about Davey's mother. With Davey still asleep, the adults had sought privacy in Sophie's extra room, a bedroom turned into a study.

Kade looked awful. Unshaved, eyes red and haunted, he looked exhausted to the point of collapse by the news he had to share.

Everything in her wanted to hold him close and comfort him, but he didn't seem to want that. He'd come into the house with his aloof, professional demeanor carefully in place. Now he was perched on the edge of her office chair, bent forward, with elbows on his jean-clad thighs and clenched hands dangling between his knees. His usually polished boots were scuffed and dirty.

"How did he end up in Redemption?" she asked, setting a cup of coffee and a slice of pumpkin bread on the desk in front of him. She was sure he hadn't eaten. Probably not since before finding Davey's mother. "Potterville's thirty miles or more from here!"

"Jesse and I talked about that." Kade cupped both hands around the warm mug but didn't drink. "Potterville is the nearest town to the house where Davey and his mother lived. Back in the woods, down a long, ragged driveway if you could call it that. More like a trail. No reason for anyone to go out there." He looked up. "It's really remote, Sophie. She had no phone. Not even have a mailbox. Apparently she wanted to be alone."

"I wonder why." Sophie rubbed the chill bumps that wouldn't stop shivering down her arms. Kade had to be even more upset by the reality of Davey's deceased mother. He'd been there. He'd seen. And he'd wanted badly to bring a happy resolution to Davey's quandary.

"The investigation into who she was and where she came from should give us some answers about her reclusive lifestyle. Whatever her reasons, she put Davey in the terrible predicament of having no one to turn to when she died."

"He must have been scared and confused," she said, imagining the thoughts that went through an eight-year-old's head.

"We figure he was with her body for several days before he ran out of food." When she shivered again at the word body, his hard voice softened the slightest bit. "He probably decided to go into Potterville-familiar territory-for help but got turned around and went the wrong direction."

"Surely he didn't walk all the way to Redemption."

"We think he did." He lifted the cup to his lips and sipped.

"Thirty miles? That could take days for a child who had no idea where he was headed." Days of tramping through dark, scary woods and sleeping in the cold.

Kade's head tilted. He pinched off a bite of warmed pumpkin bread, rolled the moist cake around in his fingers before setting it back on the saucer. Sophie understood. She had no appetite, either. "Now we know why he took shelter in the Dumpster and why he was so gaunt and hungry."

"Oh, Kade. Our poor Davey. What are we going to say to him?"