Even after spending most of the evening inside the FBI building, surely one of the most secure locations in Seattle, it was hard for Craig not to be overprotective of Zach as he walked the boy down the hall toward the exit beyond which Officer Garrenton's patrol car awaited them. Two hours of patient but focused questioning—not to mention a quick inspection by a doctor—had worn the youngster out, and Craig wanted nothing more than to get him home and in bed safe and sound. Thankfully, Agent Nyler had sent someone to get them dinner upon their arrival—tacos and French fries for Zach, sandwiches for Craig and Kara. All of them had been famished. Zach had glanced at Kara no less than four times as he had eaten his fries, just to make sure it was okay.
Now, Zach's story fully disclosed, discussed, and recorded in detail, and the adults' story outlined for the youngster as well, it was, as Officer Garrenton had exhorted Agent Nyler, time for Zach to get some rest. Craig yawned as they walked; he himself was ready to collapse into bed. He stretched, trying to stimulate his flagging muscles; somehow his body knew it was all right to relax now, and it was trying. He needed it to wait just a few more minutes, and then they would be home.
Kara stayed beside the youngster as they stepped outside. She, like Craig, seemed to be fighting the urge to hold onto him. Zach was still sensitive to touch, even if he had hugged both her and Craig—voluntarily—tonight. On the sidewalk, she and Craig waited for Officer Garrenton, who was conferring with Agent Nyler just inside, while Zach moved away into the rain to talk with Eddie.
"Did you really know me when I was little?" he inquired. Eddie had reluctantly revealed his connection with Grandfather—Dr. Lerwick—to Zach during their meeting in a conference room on one of the higher floors. Not much of what Craig and Kara had learned about Zach in the past day had surprised the boy, but Eddie's involvement had caught him off guard.
"Yeah," Eddie confirmed, "I've known you ever since you were born."
"I wasn't born," Zach returned dejectedly. "More like hatched."
Eddie shook his head. "No—hatched, you get yourself out. Born, someone else gets you out. You were born." He looked up into the rain that was falling steadily, if less forcefully than this afternoon. "I was there. I watched my father take you out of his artificial womb. I saw you take your first breath." He lifted his wallet out of his back pocket, opened it, and held it out for Zach to see. "That's me and you."
Craig caught a glimpse of the photograph—Eddie as a teenager smiling and holding an infant that could indeed have been Zach.
"I used to play with you," Eddie confided.
Zach raised his eyebrows. "You did?"
"Peek-a-boo was your favorite." Eddie demonstrated, hiding his eyes behind both hands and then revealing them suddenly. Zach—who, after all, had never been around babies—watched with his mouth open, uncertain how to respond. "Used to tickle your toes, too."
Zach wrinkled his nose. "Did I like it?"
"Not really. But we were trying to get you used to being touched. You'd cry the whole time. But with the dog…"
"We had a dog?"
"A little one. I used to put her in your crib, and she would lick your toes and curl up to sleep beside you. She didn't care if you cried. After a week or two you got used to it. You'd cry if anyone else touched you, but if the dog touched you, it was okay." Eddie smiled at the memory. "You were a cute little tyke back then. About the same as now, only you got bigger."
Zach rolled his eyes conspicuously.
"We were worried about you," Eddie told him more seriously.
Zach looked down at the sidewalk beneath his feet. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
It was Eddie's turn to drop his eyes to the sidewalk. "I knew I'd be sent to jail if they found out. And kids, you know—they don't keep secrets very well."
"That's why you were so friendly at school—because you knew me."
"Hey," Eddie scoffed, "I'm friendly with all the kids! But yeah, you most of all. Guess I missed you. Hmph—dumb thing to say."
"Yeah," Zach returned with a small grin. "Are they going to put you in jail?"
Eddie paced a few steps away and turned back, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "Probably. Hopefully not for too long. Maybe they'll let me out before, you know, you graduate from high school or something."
"Do you have any sisters or brothers?"
"Only you."
At those two words, Zach's eyebrows jumped. His eyes darted left and right, as if searching for a way to process the thought. After a few moments, he glanced up at Eddie, then stepped out of the rain to his mom, who put an arm around his shoulders. He twitched at her touch, but didn't pull away.
Officer Garrenton rejoined them a few moments later. "He wants you inside," she informed Eddie.
"In prison, more likely," he returned.
"It's your father he wants in prison," she replied. "He's wanted your father a long time."
Zach spoke again. "Why do they want to catch Grandfather? He rescued me last night!"
"If you say so," Eddie replied, "but he's still a criminal." He stepped toward the door, giving Zach's head a gentle shove as he passed. "See you around, little tyke."
Officer Garrenton beckoned the Flemings to her car. "Let's get you all home. I don't know about you, but I'm bushed. And I haven't even begun the paperwork on today…" They buckled their seatbelts as she pulled the vehicle away from the curb.
*****