Page 70 of Hearts Don't Lie
Hardin was uncertain why he thought he would be able to find Stowe on his own. In reality, he barely knew this young boy, his son. His hope of dealing with what had transpired had outweighed his common sense. Not hearing back from Mac made it worse. He tried her again. It went to voice mail. “Call me.”
Maybe Stowe was with her, telling her about the argument. Is that what an eleven-year-old boy would do? Hardin had no idea, but he wasn’t going to wait to find out. He dialed Mac again as he ran in the direction of her house. She picked up.
“Mac.”
“You sound out of breath.”
“Where have you been?”
“Outside. You miss me? I have multiple calls from you, and it looks like… two voice mails.”
He was on her street. “I’ve been calling you for over an hour.”
“I was gardening and putting Stowe’s stuff away. There’s bad weather coming.”
“Is he with you?” Her house was up ahead.
“No… I thought he was with you. Hardin?”
“He isn’t. I-I’m at your house.” He hung up.
Mac met him at the door. “What the hell is going on?”
“I can’t find him.” Running and fear made his words choppy. “He took off over an hour and a half ago. I can’t find him anywhere.”
“What do you mean? Wasn’t he with you?”
“He showed up but disappeared almost immediately, upset. It scared me. I wasn’t sure what to do. I left you a message right away and then began searching for him in town. Does he have a phone?”
“He does.” She called Stowe’s phone. It rang from his room. “Shit. I guess he was charging it.”
Hardin pursed his lips, trying to make sense of the situation, and exhaled heavily. “I see. When was the last time you saw him?”
“When he left to go meet you. What’s going on, Hardin?”
“My parents are here. They were in my suite when Stowe came.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Surprise,” he said sarcastically. “Why, I don’t know. Other than to insert themselves where they aren’t welcome. We got into it. I’m not going to lie. It was ugly, babe. I’m not sure how much Stowe heard, but he did hear.” His voice cracked with emotion when he recalled the image of Stowe’s frightened eyes locking with his. “I saw it in his face, and then he was gone. I looked for him.” He wiped at his damp eyes and whispered, “I couldn’t find him.”
“Welcome to parenting, babe. Worrying is one of its cornerstones.” Mac’s quick smile didn’t mask her concern. She dialed another number. “He’ll be home before dinner. You’ll see.”
Mac’s call to Cori, who questioned Beck and Mike, turned up nothing. Neither of them had seen Stowe. Beck checked with his and Stowe’s circle of friends. None of them had seen or heard from Stowe either.
The dinner hour came and went. Hardin helped Mac put away the uneaten food and clean up the kitchen. Worry evolved into palpable anxiety as darkness cloaked Piñon Ridge. Lightning bolted across the sky and the wind picked up, shifting one way and then another, indecisive.
Mac’s phone rang and she hurriedly answered, not looking at the screen. “Stowe?” she asked excitedly.
Hardin observed her crestfallen face. “Mike. Hi,” she said quietly, stilted, then, “Yes.”
“Mac…”
Her eyes were full of tears and distress, and her lips trembled when she looked at him.
“Mike volunteers with PCRG. He said to call 911. The sheriff will activate an immediate search.” Mac’s hand shook as she dialed. When dispatch answered on the other end, she broke into weeping.
Hardin gently took the phone and put it up to his ear, gathering Mac onto his lap, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead. “Hello. Yes. I’m calling about my son. Our son.” He took a shuddering breath. “He’s missing.”
