His mouth took a stubborn twist, and he shook his head. “When that man told me to come in to see you, I thought you’d be able to help her…but it’s been hours. It’s…it’s probably too late.” Even more interesting was how the lines around the boy’s mouth tightened in a replica of Mark’s.
“What man?” Mark asked. His tone was mild, but that didn’t fool Wallace for an instant. If Mark considered this boy to be under his protection, then whoever distressed the boy was in for a world of hurt.
Wallace cleared his throat. This could get tricky, since there was no love lost between either of his directors. “Perry. And you won’t challenge him about this, Mark.”
Mark spared him a sour glance but didn’t respond to that. “Who’s got her?” he asked the boy.
Elwyn…John…Gordy…They really needed to pick a name and stick to it. The boy shrugged, under control once more. No eleven-year-old should have that kind of control. “I don’t know, but they’ve been after me—us—for a long time.”