mean? What had Driscoll’s point been? Why had he done what he’d done to an innocent boy? He glanced at what he could see behind the building. A vast expanse of woods . . . the place Jak had first played at what would become his only existence.
Jak was the common denominator in all of this. How? Why? Who else knew what Driscoll had set up, other than the woman found murdered in town? Jak’s mother. Had there really been cameras in the trees? If so, who removed them? Driscoll? Who was the man on the cliff? Or had that actually been Driscoll and Jak’s young mind had misremembered?
He pondered on all he knew and what he’d just learned, his mind then turning to Harper Ward and how her parents had been murdered too. Driscoll had been particularly bothered by the foster care system, Dr. Swift had told him. Harper Ward had grown up in social services. Did that mean anything? Were the two cases random and unconnected? They very well could be, but Mark had a feeling they were twisted together in some sinister way he could not yet fathom.
A shiver rolled through him as he backed out of the parking space at the apartment complex, the old woman in the apartment he’d just visited staring at him from her window. When he’d first started investigating the homicides, he’d believed them to be crimes of hate. He’d find the perpetrator, and then move on to the next case. But with each week, with more and more puzzle pieces emerging, he became increasingly disturbed. Jak had been taken, mistreated, and had probably nearly died while trying to survive. A woman had been manipulated to believe that in taking in a baby, she’d find joy in a reunion with her family. Families broken. Parents grieving. But how was it all linked? What was first? Who was responsible? Would anyone pay for these crimes of cruelty?
And was there a bigger picture he wasn’t yet seeing?
PART II
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Mark and Laurie Gallagher’s home was a charming ranch at the end of a curved driveway, woods stretched out around it. Harper pulled up in front and shut off the engine, looking over at Jak, who sat next to her, his palms flat on his thighs. The first time she’d seen him in the sheriff’s office—what now seemed like a decade ago—he’d been sitting the same way. She now recognized it for what it was—nervous body language. He was grounding himself.
She reached over and put her hand over his, linking their fingers. “This is going to be fine.”
He gave her a nervous smile. “What if I do something wrong? I don’t know about going to someone’s house for dinner.”
“Jak, these people know that. They want you here. They’re not going to judge your table manners. Just do what everyone else does.”
He nodded but still looked doubtful. She squeezed his hand and then grabbed the bags she’d placed in the backseat. “Come on. I’m with you.”
He glanced at the bags the same way he had when he’d first seen them, a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness, but followed her lead when she opened the truck door and got out.
Harper smiled when they stepped onto the porch, decorated with two potted evergreen shrubs flanked in twinkle lights on either side of the porch, and a large wreath on the front door. She knocked and then took Jak’s hand in hers again, giving him another encouraging smile. If he was going to begin stepping out into the world, he had to start somewhere, and the best place—she thought—was the home of people who understood his situation and would strive to make things comfortable for him.
So far, the only thing he’d done was to ride through town with her as she pointed out the different shops and businesses. She knew he had a million questions, she could see it in his expression that morphed from shock to bafflement, to delight, back to shock. He didn’t ask her anything though, and she figured he was taking it all in, attempting to figure things out for himself—or perhaps bring back memories of what he already knew and put them back into context. Not only that, but he also had to be struggling with the fact that he’d been given up, used, lied to in ways she still didn’t understand. There were so many unanswered questions remaining about what happened to him. Not to mention what happened to his mother and Driscoll. It