Читать книгу His Secret Christmas Baby - Rita Herron - Страница 11

Derrick jogged up the stairs, found the baby brush, plucked a couple of strands of hair from it and bagged it to send to the lab.

He found a Q-tip in the bathroom, swabbed his mouth and placed the swab in another bag, hurried down the steps, then stopped in front of Brianna. “I’m going to call the tech specialist at GAI and place a trace on your home phone, and have him forward any calls to your cell as well so we’re not stuck here waiting.”

She nodded and gave him her home and cell numbers, then he stepped outside to meet the sheriff. “Cramer, will you send this to the lab with the CSI team and have them run the DNA for a paternity test?”

Cramer frowned but agreed. “Where are you going, McKinney?”

Derrick shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. “I just got into town. I have a couple of things to take care of.”

Cramer narrowed his eyes. “What kind of things?”

Derrick debated whether to tell him the truth. But if the sheriff showed up at the Phillipses’ door, they might panic and run. Unless they’d already left town…

He’d check them out on his own.

“I have to meet my boss before he leaves town. And I’m going to get a trace put on Brianna’s phone, and have her calls forwarded to her cell in case the kidnapper calls.”

“You’re working for Gage McDermont?”

Derrick nodded. “He and Leah are going on a second honeymoon. I need to fill him in on what’s happened.”

“You’re not holding out on me, are you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize this case.”

“Did Brianna give you some idea who might have kidnapped the baby?” Cramer asked.

He shook his head. “No. What’s your next move?”

Cramer glanced at the woods. “I’ll call in some deputies from the county and form a search party to check any abandoned houses and cabins in the woods.”

Derrick nodded. “I’ll ask Brock Running Bear from GAI to help with the search. Check the hotels, too.”

Cramer pulled at his chin. “I planned to.”

Derrick strode to his car, climbed in and started the engine. He hated to leave Brianna alone, but she should be safe with the sheriff there. And the clock was ticking. He quickly called GAI. Ben agreed to set up the trace and have Brock join the search parties.

Early morning sunlight filtered through the trees, glistening off the snowpacked ground and mountaintops as he drove toward town. The Phillips couple lived in a small ranch in one of the older subdivisions on the edge of Sanctuary, a redbrick with neatly trimmed boxwoods lining the front. A fenced-in yard encased the back. He checked for a dog, but didn’t hear one barking or see an animal as he glanced around the corner of the house.

The lights were off, and he wondered if the Phillipses were still in bed, or if they’d already left for work. Suddenly a light flicked on at the end of the house in the front room, and he stepped to the side to look inside, and saw a man in the kitchen.

He debated on whether to confront the couple, or stake them out, and decided on the latter. He crept back to his car and slipped inside so he could watch the front.

If they exited with the baby, he’d catch them red-handed.

B RIANNA SAID A SILENT PRAYER that the Phillips couple had Ryan. At least she would know that he was safe, not with some dangerous child molester or someone wanting money.

Money she didn’t have.

And if Derrick wasn’t Ryan’s father, who was? Natalie hadn’t mentioned being involved with anyone else. Although Natalie had always been freer about sleeping around than she was.

In fact, she was shocked when Natalie turned up pregnant. Her friend had always been careful and insisted she didn’t want to settle down.

Sheriff Cramer strode back downstairs. He’d been showing the CSI team the nursery. They were dusting for prints and combing the rooms and stairs for evidence.

Arms folded, he crossed the room to her. She was still resting on the couch and pulled her robe tighter around her, anxious for the men to leave so she could shower and dress. Maybe by then, Derrick would call.

Or return with Ryan.

“Brianna, I know McKinney asked you this, but can you think of anyone who’d want to kidnap the baby?”

She shook her head. Natalie had seemed worried at the hospital. But maybe she’d imagined that fear.

“You don’t happen to have some money stowed away somewhere? Maybe an inheritance?”

A sarcastic laugh escaped her. “No, I grew up at Magnolia Manor,” she said. “Mother left me there when I was seven. Never knew my father.” She fiddled with the strap of her robe. “And if I did have money, I’d donate it to Magnolia Manor to help the other needy kids.”

“Do you have a picture of the baby? I’ll need it for the media and so I can fax it to the Web site for the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children.”

She’d taken dozens in the last six weeks. Had even bought a new digital camera so she could download them to her computer.

“Yes.” She pushed herself up. “Let me get you one.”

She walked over to the table, then glanced at the assortment of photographs. First the one from the hospital the night Ryan had been born. Another photo two weeks later in a sailor’s outfit. Another the next week in a baseball hat. But her gaze rested on the photo she’d snapped the week before.

She’d propped Ryan up in the infant seat, and dressed him in a soft blue terry cloth sleeper. The picture showed his pale blond hair, his toothless grin and his chubby cheeks. He’d already changed from birth. In fact, he seemed to change every day.

Grief assailed her. Natalie was missing it all. But she’d trusted Brianna to care for him, and she’d let her down. What would happen if they didn’t find Ryan soon?

He might change so much she wouldn’t even recognize him….

Swiping at fresh tears, she handed the picture to the sheriff. “Here, this one is the most recent.”

“I’ll get it sent ASAP.” He offered her a tight smile. “Try to hang in there, Brianna. I’ll send a deputy here to watch the house if you want.”

She shook her head then hugged her arms around herself. “No, I’m fine. Besides, if that man had wanted to kill me, he would have. He obviously just wanted the baby.”

“Now we just have to figure out the reason,” the sheriff said. “And wait for a ransom call.”

Brianna twisted her hands together, praying the kidnapper would phone. Or that Derrick found Ryan first. That he brought him back safely and this nightmare would end.

C AREFUL NOT TO LET THE neighbors see him, Derrick slumped in the seat as two of them pulled from their driveways and passed his car.

The cold seeped through him, but he’d long ago grown used to stakeouts. He just wished he’d brought a thermos of coffee to warm his hands and stave off the exhaustion weighing on him from lack of sleep.

Finally the front door of the Phillipses’ house opened, and a man dressed in jeans and work boots carrying a hard hat stepped out. A woman stood behind him in a thick bathrobe, tears streaming down her face. The man shouted something he couldn’t distinguish, then turned and stormed toward his car. When he climbed inside, he slammed the door and took off, speeding from the drive as if he wanted to escape. The woman slammed the house door, then disappeared inside.

Derrick frowned. It appeared the couple was having marital problems. Maybe arguing over whether or not they should have kidnapped the baby?

If they had, why would they stay in town? Why wouldn’t they have disappeared?

They would have to know that Brianna would confide about her altercation with them and the sheriff would check them out.

He needed to talk to the husband alone, but first he wanted to see if the baby was inside, so he remained parked, watching. A half hour later, the woman appeared at the door again, this time dressed and wearing a long black coat. The snowfall had ceased, but the driveway had accumulated a couple of inches of snow, so she slowly picked her way to the car.

She wasn’t carrying a baby, and he didn’t see a child’s seat in the car, either.

Maybe she had a sitter inside?

Or what if she had hired someone to kidnap the baby? She could be meeting with him later to pick up Ryan.

Although at the moment, she didn’t have a diaper bag or any supplies with her. And she didn’t bring a suitcase, so she wasn’t leaving town.

She might be desperate, but she probably knew Brianna would send the sheriff to her door, so decided to lay low and wait until the dust settled, then connect with the kidnapper afterward. That would be the smart thing to do.

He kept his head down while she veered onto the street and waited until her car had cleared the corner. Then he slipped from his vehicle, crept along the side of the house to the back. Beside the stoop, he found a laundry room window, jimmied it open and climbed inside.

Instincts alert, he hesitated in the doorway joining the laundry room to the kitchen, listening to make sure no one was inside.

But an ominous silence filled the house.

He combed through the kitchen, searched the cabinets to see if the Phillipses had stocked up on baby formula, but found nothing. In the same vein of thinking, he checked the living room, bathroom and two bedrooms—looking for baby paraphernalia, diapers and baby toys—and found a book of baby names where several had been circled. A white bassinet sat against the wall, but it was empty except for a stuffed lamb lying inside.

Was this bassinet for Ryan?

He needed to talk to the couple. But first he rushed to the desk and searched their computer and business records for any financials indicating they’d hired someone to kidnap Ryan.

What he was doing was illegal, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Too often he’d had to wait on warrants and the perp had escaped. It was damn nice not to have to play by the rules.

A S SOON AS THE SHERIFF AND crime unit left, Brianna phoned her office, explained what had happened, and arranged for another social worker to take over her workload until Ryan was found. Then she dragged herself into the shower and washed off the stench of her attacker. She shampooed and dried her hair, then dressed in jeans and a thick sweater, her heart aching as she glanced at the empty crib.

The first week after Natalie had died, she’d been too grief-stricken to do anything but buy the essentials. A baby bed, a cradle for the downstairs, car seat, bottles, diapers, toys and baby clothes. When she’d cleaned out Natalie’s apartment, she’d found a few onesies and baby clothes Natalie had already purchased along with an infant bathtub, diaper bag and baby book.

Brianna hadn’t been able to open the baby book yet.

Still, she’d vowed to Natalie that her son would know how much she’d loved him.

What if she never got the chance?

Pain gnawed at her insides, but she willed herself to be strong. Derrick and the sheriff would find Ryan. She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to believe anything else.

And she had to admit that it was comforting to have Derrick working on the case.

By the time she descended the steps, she heard a pounding on the door and Derrick calling her name. She rushed to let him in, but disappointment filled her when she saw the bleak expression on his face.

“What happened?”

Snowflakes swirled with the wind, and he quickly stepped inside, stomped his boots on the mat and closed the door. “I didn’t talk to the Phillips couple.”

“Why not?”

He ushered her into the living room. “I wanted to watch them first. To see if they had the baby. They didn’t.”

Brianna’s stomach caved. “If they don’t have him, who does? Some child predator? Someone who wants money that I don’t have?” She hadn’t realized how much she’d banked her hopes on the fact that Dana had Ryan and was taking good care of him.

That he wasn’t in danger from a crazed, cold-blooded killer who might take money, then kill him anyway.

Derrick stroked her arms. “Listen Brianna, I’ve worked these cases before. If they kidnapped Ryan, they obviously hired someone else to the job which means they’re planning to meet him later. I waited until both of them left home, then searched the house.”

Her hopes skyrocketed. “What did you find? Evidence they’d paid someone or were preparing for Ryan?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Not exactly. There is a crib in the house, and a book of baby names. But no formula, diapers or supplies to indicate they were expecting a baby right away. And their financial records didn’t indicate a recent large withdrawal as if they’d paid a kidnapper.”

She sank onto the sofa. “But they could be meeting the kidnapper out of town?”

“It’s possible, although neither left with a suitcase. If they’re smart though, they’ll probably wait a few days before making the connection.”

She grabbed his arm, adrenaline kicking in. “Then we have to talk to them now. Dana is emotional. Maybe she’ll break down and tell me where he is.”

Derrick’s look turned skeptical, but they had no other leads and she had to do something. “Please, Derrick. I know Dana is on the edge. She wants a baby so badly she’s unstable. Maybe if I talk to her, woman to woman, she’ll open up.” Either that, or the woman would hate her.

But at this point, she didn’t care. All that mattered was finding little Ryan. Because if Dana didn’t have him, someone else did.

And for once in her life, she couldn’t waste time playing nice.

H E CURSED AT THE SOUND OF THE baby crying from the backseat. “Hush up, kid. I’ll get you out soon.”

He swung the car into the motel parking lot, circled around to the backseat and unbuckled the kid, then picked him up. The baby’s cries escalated to a blazing crescendo, and he jiggled him up and down. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered. “It’s so not worth the cash.”

With the key he’d pocketed earlier, he strode down the row of rooms, and let himself inside.

Candy, his girlfriend, lay stretched out on the bed, blowing at her hot red fingernails reading a magazine. When she looked up at the screaming infant, she pursed her lips. “I can’t believe you brought the brat here.”

“You have to take care of him, sugar, until we can drop him off.”

“You’re kidding, right?” She stood, hands on voluptuous hips. “I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby.”

“Then learn.” He gestured toward the bag of baby supplies he’d stowed earlier. “Get him a bottle and take him. I gotta make a call.”

She frowned and made a pouty look, but did as he said.

Shoulders straightening, he stepped outside with his phone and punched in the number. “I have the baby. It’s done.”

“And Brianna Honeycutt?”

“She woke up and tried to stop me. I threw her down the stairs, but she’s alive.”

“Damn. If she keeps asking questions, we’ll have to get rid of her, too.”

“You have a plan?”

“Yeah. We’ll kill her, then fake a suicide note where she confesses that she dropped the baby at an orphanage because she couldn’t handle the kid.”

“And she cried kidnapping to throw suspicion from herself?”

“Exactly.”

Laughter boomed from his chest. That sounded like a plan that would work. They’d drop the kid, get rid of the problematic woman, take their money and run.