Chapter 2

The boy stood at the front door of Mark Sloan's beach house, his hand quavering in the air. He brought his hand close to the door to knock, then changed his mind, then almost knocked again. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He had to do this right. His father was counting on him. Closing his eyes tightly, the boy pounded on the door with one fist.

The loud, banging sound startled Mark into dropping his fork onto his plate. "Now who could that be," he mused as he began to rise from his seat.

Jesse, however, was quicker. He bolted up and scrambled for the door. "I'll get it!" he called enthusiastically over his shoulder.

Jesse's broad, childish grin was replaced with a frown of confusion when he threw open the door to stare into the frightened eyes of a child. The boy behind the door was wet, dirty, and looked absolutely petrified. Jesse felt a twinge of pity for the child.

Kneeling down to the boy's level, Jesse spoke softly. "Hi there. Is there something I can help you with?"

The boy shied away. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Had he gotten the wrong house? After all that planning, he had disappointed his father. The boy was sure that this was the house his father had told him to go to, but there was no old man, no tall, tough guy named Steve.

Mark, fully curious as to who would possibly come to see him during such foul weather, left the dining room. He stopped in the front entryway and stared past Jesse. The drenched child standing in the doorway caught him very off guard, but Mark was always ready and eager to help anyone or anything in need.

Offering the boy his classic, toothy grin, Mark approached him. "Well, hello!" Mark said. "You must be soaked; why don't you come in and get dried off?"

Relief washed over the boy, but he did not smile. He did not like what he was about to do, but he could not question orders. His father knew what was best. Still, this old man seemed nice. The boy wished he could just walk away and leave this Mr. Sloan alone, but that was not an option.

Mark noticed the array of expressions that appeared on the child's face. It made Mark feel awkward, not understanding what the boy was thinking. "What's your name?" he finally asked the wet figure who stood silently.

The boy dipped his head like a scolded dog. "Edward," he mumbled. He took a deep breath and then began bawling. He just hoped that he had practiced enough and that he sounded convincing.

Jesse shot Mark a worried, completely confused glance, and Mark just stood dumbly for a few seconds. Amanda and Steve, hearing someone cry, came running.

Mark began to approach the boy to see what was wrong, but Amanda gently pushed Mark aside. She had more experience with troubled young kids than did Mark, with an adopted boy of her own. She lowered herself to the child's level and, like she so often did with her own children, tried to coax him into telling her what was wrong.

Rubbing his red, puffy eyes, Edward lifted his head and saw a beautiful woman staring at him in concern. His thoughts flashed back to vague memories of his own mother. Even worse than hurting the kind old man would be to hurt such a sweet-looking woman like the one standing in front of him. But he had no choice.

Edward refused to look Amanda in the eye. "I can't find my Daddy," he sobbed. "I'm lost." He felt horrible for breaking the one and only rule his mother had taught him: do not lie. But it was for his father.

Amanda embraced the boy and spoke in a soothing monologue, telling Edward that everything would be alright and that they would find the boy's father. This only caused the boy to stiffen and become even more nervous.

Mark glanced at Steve with pleading eyes. His son returned the look with a stubborn glance of his own but relented within a few moments. "Alright, alright!" He threw his hands in the air and went to grab his rain jacket and shoes. "I'll see if I can find his dad. Where did you last see him? And what's his name?"

The boy's blood turned to ice. He stared dumbly at Steve. "It's... um..." he stuttered, "it's Kyle Smith. We were walking on the beach, and then I... got lost!"

Steve stared at Edward skeptically before finally heading out the door. How could a kid almost forget his own father's name? And why on earth would anyone be taking a stroll along the ocean during such a bad storm? A quick glance to his father told Steve that Mark was thinking the same thing. Steve shrugged and left the house. The boy was probably just too scared to think clearly.

Watching Steve leave, Jesse raced to get his own coat. "I'm going to help Steve search; two heads are better than one!" he told Mark and Amanda, who were busy trying to make Edward feel more comfortable.

The front door to the beach house opened and slammed shut while Steve was still on the driveway. He glanced back and saw Jesse racing over, holding the top of his jacket to shield his head form the rain. "What are you doing out here, Jess?" Steve called, but his voice was nearly drowned out by the sound of the rain.

Jesse caught up with the older man and shrugged. "I thought you could use a hand."

Steve sighed and resumed walking. He put his right hand over his eyes like a visor and scanned the area around him. The trees danced wildly with the wind, the rain hit the ground and splashed up back into the air. Only two people seemed to be outside in the storm: a doctor and a cop, searching for someone who was probably indoors somewhere. "We don't both need to be out here, Jesse."

The younger man grinned. "And let you have all the fun?"

Chuckling, Steve walked toward the ocean to check the beach for anyone. Jesse followed two steps behind. Nothing but blowing sand and wild waves moved. It seemed the search was futile. It was like trying to find a needle in a moving, angry haystack.

The two spent the better part of an hour in a frustrating attempt to find the elusive Kyle Smith. They checked the local gas station and supermarket and walked a full mile each way down Pacific Coast Highway, but they encountered no man by the name of Kyle Smith. Eventually, they began to get impatient.

"Steve," Jesse said heavily. "I don't think we're going to find him tonight. And standing out here giving ourselves hypothermia isn't going to accomplish anything."

The older man scowled and stared down Pacific Coast Highway one last time. "I didn't ask you to come, you know. I told Dad I'd look for this guy, and that's what I intend to do." Steve looked at his miserable friend and sighed. "But you're probably right. This is hopeless; let's go back."

When the two arrived back at the beach house, they looked no better than Edward had when he appeared. Water dripped off their entire bodies, pooling on the wood floor. Both men's hair was disheveled, and both were frustrated.

Mark, Amanda and the boy greeted them as they walked in. "Well," Amanda prompted. Edward stared at his feet.

Steve frowned in irritation. "We didn't find anybody. The whole beach is as barren as I've ever seen it!"

As he took a step forward, Edward cautiously looked up at Steve. "Excuse me, sir," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Daddy has a cell phone; you could try calling that."

Steve just stared. He could feel the irritation bubble up inside him, but he let it go when he noted how absolutely pathetic the kid looked. It wasn't the boy's fault that hour he had just spent in the rain was even more useless.

Mark mouthed an 'I'm sorry' at his son before explaining, "He told me just after you guys left. I already called his father, and he's on his way to pick Edward up right now." Mark felt very sheepish. Steve and possibly Jesse were never going to let him hear the end of this. He shouldn't have sent Steve out so early without letting the boy explain things first.

Steve shook his head and went down to his separate apartment on the lower floor to change. Jesse, not wanting to wear one of Steve's huge shirts, decided to brave the weather once again and went to his car to change into a spare set of clothes.

Noting Edward's obvious discomfort, Mark smiled and took him by the hand. He led the boy into the family room and motioned for him to sit on the couch. "How about a video tape?" Mark asked. Like a child, he rambled about all his favorite movies and finally chose a movie he thought his guest would enjoy.

As Mark bent over to push a Flintstones movie into the tape player, he didn't notice a slim hand reach into his pocket, squeeze his wallet, or pull out an important item.

Edward stuffed the retrieved item into his own pants and looked away from the old man as he spoke. Mark immediately noticed the sudden change in the boy's behavior but didn't know what could be wrong. "Do you not like the Flintstones?" he asked, scratching his head. "I could always put in a different movie."

Shrinking back into the couch, Edward vigorously shook his head. He really liked the people here, especially the old man and the woman. They made him feel special, as if he were liked without having to prove himself to be worthy. It was a feeling that not even his own father had ever given him, but his loyalties lied with his father, not his father's enemies.

Mark decided just to give the boy some space. "I'll go get us some hot chocolate," he said, effectively masking his confusion. "I'll be back in a minute; just sit tight."

He had just begun to heat up some milk when he heard pounding at the door. Mark whipped around, and the pot of milk on the stove fell to the floor with a clatter. Warm milk splashed onto the floor and onto Mark's new shoes. He gave the mess a fleeting glance and jogged to the door. "I'm coming!"

Steve was coming up the stairs and got to the door before his father. He looked out the window, saw a tall man in a long coat, and reluctantly opened the door. The man stepped in out of the rain before Steve could invite him in. He kept his eyes looking down, and his hat covered most of his face.

Steve raised his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. "I assume you are Kyle Smith."

Confusion washed over the man's face before he resumed a poker face. He was grateful that nobody saw his expression. "Yes," he said eventually. "I am here to pick up Edward, my... son." That last word was still bitter in his mouth.

It took several moments before Mark finally accepted the other man as being normal. Something about his voice, or his mostly obscured face, seemed vaguely familiar. The man's dark black attire and flighty, cold demeanor were even stranger than the boy's.

Turning to go get Edward, Mark was surprised to find the boy already walking towards the door. "Uh... Daddy..." he said with his head down. "I'm read to go now."

The man nodded curtly and walked back out into the rain without another word. Edward followed awkwardly, looking back once more at Mark's kind face. He would never forget these nice people.

Mark and Steve watched the two brief visitors walk away from the beach house. Neither got into a car but instead just walked into the rain. Neither Steve nor Mark could understand anything about what had just happened.

"I think he's a child abuser," Mark finally concluded. "I'm worried about that boy."

Steve nodded in agreement and closed the door. "I think I'll do a background check on a Mr. Kyle Smith."

Moments later, Jesse appeared in front of the two Sloans, his face red as a beet. "Hey Mark," he asked. "Do you think you could give me a ride back to my apartment?"

"What about your car?"

Jesse felt even smaller than he already was. "I accidentally locked my keys in my car."

Chuckling, Mark agreed. "I know what that's like," he laughed.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt only his wallet. "That's strange, Mark mused. "I wonder where I left my keys..."

No more than a hundred meters away from the beach house, Edward slipped a small, metal object into the tall man's hand. The man greedily grabbed the object and clenched it in his hand. "Phase one, complete," he whispered to himself. "You'll feel my next one for sure, Sloan."

Author's Note: Comments/ constructive criticism welcome.