Heart Wish Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Hidden Beauty Series

  Hidden Hearts Series

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Kendall

  Chapter 2: Jameson

  Chapter 3: Kendall

  Chapter 4: Jameson

  Chapter 5: Kendall

  Chapter 6: Jameson

  Chapter 7: Kendall

  Character 8: Jameson

  Chapter 9: Kendall

  Chapter 10: Jameson

  Chapter 11: Kendall

  Chapter 12: Jameson

  Chapter 13: Kendall

  Chapter 14: Jameson

  Chapter 15: Kendall

  Chapter 16: Jameson

  Chapter 17: Kendall

  Chapter 18: Jameson

  Chapter 19: Kendall

  Chapter 20: Jameson

  Chapter 21: Kendall

  Chapter 22: Jameson

  Chapter 23: Kendall

  Chapter 24: Jameson

  Chapter 25: Kendall

  Epilogue: Jameson

  Acknowledgements

  Other Works

  About the Author

  A Final Note

  Contents

  Copyright

  Hidden Beauty Series

  Hidden Hearts Series

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Kendall

  Chapter 2: Jameson

  Chapter 3: Kendall

  Chapter 4: Jameson

  Chapter 5: Kendall

  Chapter 6: Jameson

  Chapter 7: Kendall

  Character 8: Jameson

  Chapter 9: Kendall

  Chapter 10: Jameson

  Chapter 11: Kendall

  Chapter 12: Jameson

  Chapter 13: Kendall

  Chapter 14: Jameson

  Chapter 15: Kendall

  Chapter 16: Jameson

  Chapter 17: Kendall

  Chapter 18: Jameson

  Chapter 19: Kendall

  Chapter 20: Jameson

  Chapter 21: Kendall

  Chapter 22: Jameson

  Chapter 23: Kendall

  Chapter 24: Jameson

  Chapter 25: Kendall

  Epilogue: Jameson

  Acknowledgements

  Other Works

  About the Author

  A Final Note

  © 2017 Mary Crawford. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its publisher, Mary Crawford and Diversity Ink Press. Copyright protection extends to all excerpts and previews by this author included in this book.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author or publisher is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published on November 14, 2017, by Diversity Ink Press and Mary Crawford. Author may be reached at MaryCrawfordAuthor.com.

  ISBN-13:978-1-945637-12-4 • ASIN: B077KLHQCP

  HIDDEN BEAUTY SERIES

  Until the Stars Fall from the Sky

  So the Heart Can Dance

  Joy and Tiers

  Love Naturally

  Love Seasoned

  Love Claimed

  Jude's Song

  Paths Not Taken

  Heart Wish (100% charity release)

  Related novellas:

  If You Knew Me (and other silent musings)

  The Price of Freedom

  Dreams Change (upcoming release)

  HIDDEN HEARTS SERIES

  Identity of the Heart

  Sheltered Hearts

  Hearts of Jade

  Love is More Than Skin Deep

  Tough

  Rectify

  Pieces

  Hearts Set Free

  Related novella: Port in the Storm

  Other Works:

  Vision of the Heart

  #AmWriting: A Collection of Letters to Benefit The Wayne Foundation

  DEDICATION

  To those who find the lost.

  CHAPTER 1

  KENDALL

  I PINCH THE BRIDGE OF my nose as I concentrate on the words being spoken on the other end of the phone. Instinctively, I know that this case is going to take a hard toll on me. It hits a little too close to home. I listen to her sob for a few moments before I gently interrupt, “Mrs. Livingston, thank you so much for calling Locate My Heart. I’ll set up a file for Bethany and your grandson, Asher, as soon as I get my computer turned on. I just walked in the door.”

  Pausing my racing thoughts to listen, I reply patiently, “Of course, Bethany couldn’t make the call herself. Being questioned by the police is a daunting thing. I understand. You be sure to tell your daughter-in-law to rest as much as she can. Asher will need her when he is found.”

  I place my purse on my bookshelf and try to turn on my computer, but the cord on my headset is too short. Instead, I open a file drawer and pull out a brand-new baby-blue file, indicating yet another lost male child.

  I fix my headset I’ve knocked askew and flex my neck. I am anxious to get started, but I know this is a crucial bonding step, and I don’t want to rush her. “I need to get this file together. You have my email address. If you think of anything else or if any news stations send you any surveillance footage, please forward it on to me. I appreciate your help with this. Hopefully we’ll be able to drum up lots of public-interest in your grandson’s case.” Mrs. Livingston sobs some more before she thanks me for my help. “It’s the least I can do to help ma’am. We’ll do our best to bring your grandson home. I’ll be in touch if there are any developments.”

  I’m so exhausted after I remove my headset, I am tempted to lay my head on my desk and take a nap. Colette walks by my desk and slides a cup of fragrant cinnamon tea under my nose. “That sounded rough, Kendall. Is this case going to be as awful as it sounds?”

  I jump when Colette speaks. I’ve been so focused on my conversation with Mrs. Livingston, I completely forgot my supervisor was here. Colette is working on the same grant I am. It’s due in a few days and we’re still collecting data. With this breaking case, the grant will have to take a backseat. I adjust my glasses and pull my long hair off my neck as I nod. “Unfortunately, this one is a real puzzler in every sense of the word. It’s not shaping up to be your typical parental abduction. Bethany Livingston was shopping at a discount store for a particular type of binky for her son, Asher Edwin Livingston — age two months, three weeks old. Bethany stopped to go to the restroom and change his diaper. She laid him on the changing table and turned around to get wipes from her diaper bag. While Bethany’s back was turned briefly, someone pushed her down, swooped in, and took Asher off the changing table. She never saw what hit her.”

  “Who called it in?” Colette asks as she anxiously clicks the open-and-close mechanism on her ink pen.

  “Phyllis Livingston she is Bethany Livingston’s very concerned mother-in-law. Her son, Edwin Livingston, is a court reporter in Judge Abram’s courtroom. They are in the middle of a trial today. Mrs. Livingston and her husband took Bethany and their grandson to the store to try to find some of his favorite pacifiers. They wanted to give her some space because she was feeling a little insecure. Mrs. Livingston was feeling bad for hovering all the time. She went back into the store to look around for new dish towels while her husband shopped for sport
ing goods at a different store. Mrs. Livingston said her daughter-in-law ran out of the bathroom and screamed hysterically. That’s when Phyllis called the police. The police summoned the paramedics because Bethany Livingston had a goose egg on her head where she hit the metal stall when she was pushed to the ground.”

  Colette grimaces. “Let me guess ... they didn’t believe the mother?”

  “Well, according to Phyllis, the questioning of Bethany was intense,” I reply as I turn on my computer.

  “Figures. That’s how it always goes. They seem to suspect the family first. Do we have anything to support an AMBER Alert?” she asks

  I shake my head. “There’s no reliable description or license plate number available. We don’t have much to go on. The mother is so distraught that she’s having trouble remembering what her son was wearing today. It’s some kind of onesie — but she can’t remember if it’s got trains or dinosaurs on it.”

  “Tell me we at least have pictures of the baby?” Colette replies in an exasperated tone.

  “We will — as soon as my computer boots up. Phyllis Livingston is sending me some from her cell phone.”

  “That’s a start, I suppose,” Colette says with a small sigh.

  “Do you mind if I send the pictures to you? I could use some help to make flyers because I have a gut feeling time is especially important for this case.”

  “Works for me. I can take a break from grant writing for a bit. I miss front-line work”

  Settling into my workspace, my brain is spinning with all the things I need to do as I click on my email program. When I do, ominous music blares through my speakers and an enormous skull-and-cross-bones icon fills the screen, making me jump.

  “What the heck is that?” Colette asks as she stops in her tracks.

  “I don’t know. I was just trying to open my email program when this appeared,” I respond as I look for a way to shut the stupid thing off. Finding none, I unplug the speakers.

  “Oh Crap! Is it one of those virus thingies? How do we get rid of it?” she asks.

  At first, I was too shocked to put two and two together until Colette started asking questions. After she did, I recall a news story I saw about ransom-ware. As the realization hits, I whisper in a shaky voice. “Who'd want to attack Locate My Heart? We're a nonprofit agency. We do nothing more than reunite families. Who could hate that?”

  Eyes wide with panic, Colette pleads with me. “You are much more of a computer person than I am. I barely know how to operate my flip phone. I don’t even own one of those smart phones. I don’t know the first thing about our computer system. On television, everyone always knows who to call in these situations, but I don’t know anybody. It’s not like I know the guy who makes Microsoft computers and the guy who invented Apple computers is dead. Who exactly does one call for this kind of thing?” Her voice raises even higher. “I don’t have to remind you, we have a grant due in just a couple days. That grant is 55% of our operating fund. Without it, we are sunk. If they wipe out our data, we are toast. We can kiss our program goodbye.”

  “Colette, take a deep breath. You are going to give yourself a stroke. Because of the nature of the information we have here, I back it up to the cloud several times a day, so our data is very secure. It’s not the data I’m so worried about — it’s our ability to operate day to day.”

  “I don’t know what in the world all this has to do with the weather. Just do whatever you need to do to salvage all of our computer stuff. We have an active case we need to start.”

  “Okay, I’ll do what I can do. I’ll start with local law enforcement. I’ll see what they suggest. I want to make sure I’m not making a bad situation worse,” I say as I pick up the phone and start to dial.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Tyler Colton. He’s my local law enforcement contact at the Sheriff’s Office. He should be able to tell me where to start. I should give them a heads up about the threat, don’t you think? Other local businesses might find themselves in the same boat.”

  Colette scowls at me and shakes her head. “Tread with caution. I’m still not sure which of the local LEOs we can trust. We’ve had a contentious relationship in the past. Tyler may not support our mission.”

  “I understand that, but he’s the only contact I’ve got at the moment.”

  “I hope it goes well. I have a healthy wariness about law enforcement types, as you well know. I’ll let you deal with them. In the meantime, I’ll run home and see how much of the grant data I’ve got in hard copy. I just don’t trust computers. Maybe I was right.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Either way we need to figure it out. We have to get Asher’s picture in front of as many people as possible. Come to think of it; I think I’ll just head to the Sheriff’s department myself. Perhaps we can issue our media package from there.”

  An officer barely older than a high-schooler escorts me back to Tyler’s office. Ty is scowling at something he is reading on his computer screen. When I knock on his door frame, he looks at me and smiles. “Hey, Kendall! You are a bright spot in an otherwise dismal day.”

  “You might not say that when you hear what I have to say,” I admit as I lower myself into the chair opposite his desk.

  “Oh, so this isn’t a personal visit? That can’t be good.”

  I sigh. “It’s not. Regardless of how you look at it, it just isn’t.”

  Tyler pulls a legal pad out of a drawer and opens it to a clean page. He grabs a pen out of a ceramic cup on his desk. He looks up at me and says, “Okay, you might as well start at the beginning. Given the nature of your job, I’m not sure I want to hear this today, but I guess it needs to be done.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re right. The problem started out with a report of a missing child. A woman by the name of Mrs. Livingston called to tell me that her grandson was snatched today from a local discount store.”

  “Several of our deputies were dispatched to that call. That’s the one that took place in the women’s restroom, correct?”

  “Yes, the baby’s name is Asher Edwin Livingston. He’s three months old.”

  “Were you able to get any pictures of the child?”

  “Funny you should mention that, because that’s the second reason for my visit. When I turned on our computers to open Mrs. Livingston’s email, I received a notice that our computers are being held hostage unless we pay ByteLadyJusticeWhereItHurts a million dollars.”

  “What? That’s just crazy. You guys are a nonprofit organization. How do they figure you have that kind of money? Do they even realize how you guys help us get the word out about missing kids and how you support families in crisis?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me the answer to that. I didn’t even think agencies like Locate My Heart were targets for these cyber-terrorists. I’ve seen news stories about these organizations, but I thought they went after big companies with deep pockets, not companies like ours.”

  “It seems like everyone is a target of crime these days. I don’t suppose you remember the exact wording of the threat?”

  “I took a picture with my cell phone. Will that work?” I answer as I push my phone across the desk toward him. “The news report I saw said not to click on anything if you got a threat. As soon as the window popped up, I didn’t touch anything on my computer. I came right over to you.”

  Tyler runs his hand through his short-cropped hair. “I’m sure the forensics folks will appreciate that. Unfortunately, most of the folks that specialize in cyber-crimes are away at training up in Portland sponsored by the feds.”

  I slump down in the chair, feeling defeated. “What am I going to do? I’ve got to get the alerts out about Asher. You know how this business works — time is of the essence. Every minute we waste puts that child in exponentially more danger.”

  “I’ll call Andy in here and see if she can contact Mrs. Livingston and get her to send the pictures to our department. We’ll try to send out the alert from here instead of Locate
My Heart.”

  “Andy?” I ask, unfamiliar with the name.

  “Officer Andrea Angelica Garcia is one of our newest officers. She specializes in cases involving children. She goes by Andy. I think you’ll like her a lot. She’s passionate about helping children.”

  “Sounds good. We can use all the help we can get now because not having a computer system has completely crippled my ability to help. Colette is fit to be tied because we’re in the middle of applying for a grant from our chief source of funding.”

  “I have another friend who might be able to help. You remember my good friend, Aidan O’Brien, who did the fundraising concert for you guys a few years back?”

  “How could we possibly forget? He raised thousands of dollars for us. We’re so grateful for his help; it allowed us to purchase upgraded computer equipment and software to perform age progressions on missing children.”

  “Yeah, that’s him. Anyway, Aidan uses a company called Identity Bank to vet all of his security. They employ a ton of former agents and military types. One of the guys who works for both Aidan and Tristan is a computer whiz named Jameson. He helped Aidan track a cyber-stalker. I can contact Jameson and see if he’s willing to help out.”

  “Locate My Heart probably doesn’t have the funding for that kind of thing. Private computer consultants are very expensive.” I sigh. “As Colette’s executive assistant, I know the inner-workings well enough to know we can’t afford it.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Tristan often does this kind of thing for free,” Tyler says as he picks up the phone.

  “Andy, could you come to my office, please,” Tyler instructs. He turns to me. “Andy will take care of you while I work on the rest of this. Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me that you trust our working relationship enough to reach out.”

  “Thank you for offering your resources. I’m sure Asher’s family will be grateful.”