“This morning’s paper. They snatched the younger kid.”
I swore. In a mixture of English and old Norse. “Did you get Marrick’s address?”
“I’m going there. You see what you can find out about the kidnapping.”
I didn’t send the taxi to that address. I checked a map and got myself dropped off one street over then wandered.
There were cops outside the house. And media. Vultures, I thought, while I contemplated how to get close.
Then I saw Belinda and her other son, Aaron, come out of the house. Both looked pale, and Aaron was yelling at the media to go away, go home. His mother either couldn’t silence him or, more likely, didn’t want to.
He was probably saying what she thought. No. I wasn’t going to get close to her. Finding the kid was better, but seeing his brother helped. Siblings. Similar scents.
Anyone who looked over would see a random blond girl. I called the fyrhund and it came running in beagle form.
Anyone who looked over would see a random blond girl who’d just found her dog. Nothing more harmless than that. I was probably the only person Aaron wasn’t trying to skewer with his eyes right now.
“Find his brother,” I murmured to the hound, then we set off at a bit of a jog, him trotting ahead. I slowed to a walk and tugged out the phone.
“Marrick’s surrounded by cops and paparazzi. I can’t get close to her, but the hound’s got the kid’s scent.”
“Okay. Wait. I’ll catch up.”
It was smart, although I didn’t know…no.
This wasn’t one of those kidnappings. The boy was leverage. They wouldn’t hurt him. I could afford to wait for backup. I got out of sight of the house and stopped, petting the fyrhund. “Hold up.”
He licked my hand, a rich warm sense of gentle fire over my skin. “I really should name you.”
It was an acknowledgment of something, ownership perhaps, but at this point. “Ben?” I quipped. A doggy kind of name that, and it would work until I could find something more classy and mythological.
The fyrhund didn’t seem to care. He sat there panting until Kanesha ran up.
“I don’t know how far we’re going to have to go,” I warned.
“I’ll keep up.”
I hoped she was right.