Page 85 of Honor ’N’ Duty

Before getting out of the SUV, Kade grabbed a handheld radio and shoved his phone in his back pocket. “Stay,” he ordered Smoke, who’d been pacing in the kennel and now sat with a disappointed huff.

Jamie met him on the sidewalk. “This ought to be interesting.”

“True that.”

“What’s the plan if he’s not here?” Jamie asked.

During the forty-minute drive from Asbury Park to Trenton, Kade had given that possibility considerable thought.

Every law enforcement officer in the State of New Jersey knew how much Colon loved his mother. Word on the street was that when he’d tried to get her to move into his lavish compound, she’d refused. Her husband might be long dead, but Cecelia Colon would always be a cop’s wife. She’d never condoned the life of crime her son had chosen. Nor would she ever provide any evidence against him.

“Then we’ll talk to mommy dearest.”

“You know if word gets back to your agency, you’ll catch a lot of flack for this,” Jamie warned.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Accusing Colon face to face of kidnapping a little girl when he didn’t have any proof other than gut instinct wouldn’t go over well with his bosses. Approaching the guy’s mother for information was about half a peg down from that on the how-to-get-your-ass-fired list. But he’d do anything to get Rosa back.

Including preying on a mother’s love for her child.

As they walked to the house, Kade pointed to the camera attached to the lowest bracket on the satellite dish. Colon had no doubt installed that to keep his mother safe and to send a message to anyone stupid enough to trespass: mess with my mother and you won’t live to see the next sunrise.

Kade knocked on the door while Jamie stood on the grass by the bottom step, looking up and down the street. In his peripheral vision, he caught the curtain at one of the ground-floor windows moving.

Someone was inside.

A few seconds later, a sharp click filtered through door as a deadbolt was thrown. Slowly, the door cracked open, although a brass security chain remained in place. A woman in her mid-sixties, about five-four, and with gray hair and gray eyes peered at him warily over the security chain. Kade recognized her.

Cecelia Colon. The mother of the man who murdered his brother.

“Ma’am.” Kade held up his federal ID. “I’m Officer Sampson with the Department of Homeland Security. That’s my partner.” He nodded to Jamie, who still guarded Kade’s six. “Sergeant Pataglio with the Port Authority. Is your son, Fernando, here?”

Cecelia made a hmpfing sound. “I figured you were police, and no. Fernando isn’t here. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” She began closing the door.

Kade stuck his foot in the space between the door and the jamb, preventing her from shutting it in his face. Her eyes flared with alarm. “Please, ma’am, wait. This is about a missing child, and you may be able to help.”

The woman’s gray eyes narrowed, but she didn’t try closing the door again. “You came here asking for my son. How is it you think I can help?”

There was no beating around the bush. “A little girl has been kidnapped. I have reason to believe your son took her. If we can’t find her, I think he’ll kill her.” Just saying the words made his blood run cold.

Cecelia’s eyes widened again, but not from fear. When her lips pressed together, Kade expected her to tell him to pound sand, but she didn’t. Nor did she tell him he was out of his mind and that her son wasn’t capable of such a horrific crime. Meaning, she fully believed Fernando Colon was capable of kidnapping a child.

“Please,” he added. “I’m not wrong about this. May we come in?” Taking a chance, he removed his boot from the threshold, then held his breath. He was giving her the opportunity to slam the door in his face.

Again, her lips pressed together, forming a thin, tight line.

The door closed. Kade hung his head and exhaled a frustrated breath. Coming here in the first place had been a Hail Mary. He hadn’t really expected to get anywhere. He looked at Jamie and gave a quick shake of his head, but as he turned to leave, another sound stopped him—the soft rasp of metal sliding on metal.

The sound of the security chain being slid along its track. And opened.

Cecelia held out her hand, beckoning them inside. Quickly, he exchanged glances with Jamie, who hustled to join him. Kade hadn’t really thought they’d get their feet in the door, but here they were. Walking inside the house Fernando Colon had grown up in.

“Thank you,” Kade said as he went in.

“Ma’am,” Jamie said as he followed.

They waited for Cecelia to close the door. She didn’t bother reengaging the security chain and deadbolt. Guess she figured with two armed officers in her house, she was safe enough.

“This way.” She led them down a narrow hallway, the walls of which were lined with framed photographs. The distinct smells of garlic and herbs permeated the air.