The Cowboy's Claim (20 page)

“We can talk about all that later,” he said. “What we need to do right now is try to figure out who is behind all this and why, and where somebody has taken our son.”

Courtney released her grip on his hand and instead rubbed her hand across her forehead as if in an attempt to ease a headache. “I just can’t begin to imagine.”

“Did you get checked out by a doctor?” Nick asked as he noticed the cuts and scratches on her arms.

“I’m fine. Everything is mostly superficial,” she assured him. Her eyes once again filled with tears. “I just need my baby back.”

She slapped a hand down onto the top of the table in sudden anger. “I should be out there looking for him, not sitting here helplessly.”

“Cameron is good at what he does. We have to trust him and his team to do their jobs. Besides, if the toys and this kidnapping are tied together, then my hope is that whoever has Garrett has no intention to harm him,” Nick said. He just prayed he was right, for the alternative was too horrible to imagine.

* * *

Courtney toggled between tears and a strange numbness as her fear peaked with every minute that passed. The darkness outside was profound, and Garrett should be in his little cowboy pajamas and asleep in his crib. The world wasn’t right, and it would never be right until she had Garrett back in her arms once again.

The silence of the cell phones in the center of the table only added to her overall anxiety. Why didn’t somebody call? If it was a kidnapping for ransom, then why didn’t somebody call and make their demands? Whatever the amount, she would figure out a way to pay it. Together she and Nick would give them whatever they wanted as long as they got Garrett back safe and sound.

Why, oh why didn’t somebody just call to tell them Garrett had been found and the world had been made right again. Her head felt as if it were about to explode as she tried to think of who could be behind this, who might want to take her baby boy.

“Rusty.” The name exploded from her lips.

Nick frowned at her. “Rusty Albright. Why would the cook at the Cowboy Café have anything to do with this?”

“I just know that the other day Rusty was in a really bad mood and Mary confided in me that years ago he’d lost his wife and child in a house fire. The baby boy was about Garrett’s age when the fire happened. It was like the ten-year anniversary, and he was really upset. He always asks about Garrett...” Her voice trailed off.

Was it possible that something had snapped inside Rusty? That somehow the past had exploded in his brain and he’d decided that Garrett was the little boy he’d lost.

She watched as Nick grabbed his cell phone. He punched in a number. “Mary, it’s Nick. Is Rusty working tonight?” Courtney watched every muscle in Nick’s body tense. “Okay, thanks.” He slid his phone closed, his eyes dark. “Rusty isn’t working.”

Courtney got up from the table. “Then let’s go find him.”

Even though Cameron had told them to sit tight, she knew Nick was with her as he rose from the table and shoved his phone into his pocket.

She grabbed hers as well, and within seconds they were in his truck and roaring out of the motel parking lot. For the first time since she’d seen the empty crib, a tiny ray of hope flittered through her heart.

She knew Rusty. He had a reputation for being a tough loner who didn’t take any crap from anyone, but surely he wouldn’t hurt a child. If he had somehow snapped because of the trauma of his past and he’d taken Garrett in a delusional state, believing Garrett was his son, then she would be able to forgive him as long as he got some sort of psychiatric help.

“It has to be him,” she said aloud. “He always asks about Garrett. He would have had access to my drink. He could have dropped that box of toys off at the motel, and he probably knows how to pick a lock on a door. Maybe his sense of reality cracked.”

“I don’t give a damn what cracked. If he’s got my kid, he’s got a problem,” Nick replied tersely.

“Maybe we should call Cameron and tell him where we’re going?” she suggested.

“No. I want to check this out myself. We’ll go to Rusty’s cabin, and if he isn’t there then we’ll call in Cameron.” Nick stepped on the gas and a sense of urgency filled Courtney as they drew closer to the Cowboy Café and the four cabins behind it, including one where Rusty lived.

Courtney’s heart thundered in her chest, like a frantic drum that resonated through her entire body. She told herself this had to be right, that they were going to get to Rusty’s cabin and find Garrett there safe and sound. There would be no ugly confrontation, the sight of them would snap Rusty out of whatever mental delusion he’d suffered, and he’d be apologetic and horrified by what he’d done.

The tiny ray of hope exploded into a shining ball as Nick reached the parking lot of the café and headed around to the back of the building, where the four small cabins were located.

Three of them had been left empty after Candy Bailey, the first waitress, had been murdered in hers. Cameron had moved out the other single women but had agreed to allow Rusty to continue living in the one on the far end.

Hope soared through her as she saw a light shining from Rusty’s cabin and his beat-up red pickup truck parked outside. “He’s here,” she said, her heart beating so fast she was breathless.

As Nick came to a stop in front of the cabin, Courtney prayed that Garrett was inside, happily playing with toys Rusty had bought for him. She needed to have Garrett in her arms right now. She couldn’t wait another minute.

When Nick’s truck came to a stop, they both jumped out. Nick beat her to the door, banging on it with the force of a jackhammer.

“Hold your damn horses,” Rusty’s deep voice yelled from inside. He jerked open his door and took a step back at the sight of them. “Nick...Courtney...what’s up?”

It was obvious Rusty had been relaxing. He wore an old worn T-shirt and cutoff denim shorts that showcased legs the size of tree trunks.

“You got our boy?” Nick asked, the tension taut in his voice.

Rusty frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?” He looked from Nick to Courtney, genuine confusion in his blue eyes. “Courtney? What’s going on?”

It was at that moment Courtney knew her baby wasn’t here. Where was Garrett? She turned to Nick and burst into tears.

Chapter 13

M
inutes later they were back in Nick’s truck, but still parked in front of Rusty’s cabin. “I was so sure,” she cried. “I was so sure this was the answer.”

Rusty had fully cooperated when Nick had asked to come in and look around, and both he and Courtney were satisfied that Rusty had nothing to do with the missing little boy.

“At least this made some sort of sense,” Nick replied. He hadn’t even started his truck. It was as if he didn’t know what to do next, where to go.

She felt the same way...lost in a miasma of emotions that felt far too close to grief. And she didn’t want to feel grief. That implied she had lost something precious, and Garrett wasn’t lost forever—he was merely temporarily misplaced.

“I just can’t imagine anyone else who might have done this,” she finally said as her burst of tears ebbed.

“We’d better head back to the motel and wait to see what Cameron and his deputies have found,” Nick said as he started the truck.

“If they had found something somebody would have called us,” she replied, fighting against an overwhelming despair.

She stared out the window, the darkness outside a misery in her soul. Who would want to do this? Who would want to hurt her? Hurt Nick? Who would want to take away their precious son?

They both jumped in their seats as Nick’s cell phone rang. He pulled to the side of the road and fumbled with one hand to get it out of his pocket and answer.

She sat forward in her seat as far as the seat belt would allow. She could tell by his expression that it wasn’t good news, nor was it bad. Nick listened for a moment, then said goodbye and clicked off the phone.

“That was Cameron. He was at your parents’ house, where they were in the middle of a dinner party. There was no indication that they had anything to do with Garrett’s disappearance.”

Courtney nodded, a faint edge of sadness momentarily stealing her abject fear for her son. “They haven’t wanted anything to do with him or me for the last two years, so I couldn’t imagine that they’d suddenly gotten a desire to kidnap Garrett.”

“He also told me that Ben Temple checked out Grant, who was at The Corral with a couple of buddies and had been there for the past several hours.” He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “That puts us back to square one,” he said in obvious frustration. “The suspects we had, Grant, Rusty and your parents, are all off the list of suspects.” His voice deepened with each word and his eyes darkened to a blue she’d never seen before. “So, who has our son?” he asked hoarsely. “I’ve only had him for a little over a week. Why would somebody take him away from me? From us?”

Courtney’s heart ached not only with her own pain but also with his. She reached across the seat and placed her hand on his, as if only by connecting could they find the strength to get through all of this.

“Cameron is on his way back to the motel,” Nick said as he once again put the truck in drive and merged back onto the road.

Once again she stared out the passenger window, where the darkness felt like an enemy who had swallowed her son and now refused to let him go.

Garrett was out there, Courtney thought in despair. She desperately hoped Nick was right, that somehow the toys and the kidnapping were connected and whoever had taken Garrett had tucked him gently into a nicely covered crib.

She desperately hoped Garrett wasn’t afraid. The mental vision of him standing in a crib, crying out for her, sickened her and brought a new veil of tears to her eyes.

As Nick pulled back into the motel parking lot, Courtney fought against the scream of torment that worked its way up the back of her throat.

“Go to the office,” she said. Nick gave her a quick, curious look, and she shrugged. “Maybe Mickey has remembered something since Cameron spoke to him earlier.”

Nick nodded and pulled in front of the motel office. Courtney knew he felt what she did, the need to do something even if it had already been done.

Mickey Jeffries was a thirty-year-old who worked the desk at the motel from seven in the evening until seven in the morning. He was an affable young man whose bright smile mitigated the fact that he had ears to rival a baby elephant’s.

His smile was nowhere in sight as Nick and Courtney walked into the small office that smelled of burned coffee and freshly baked cookies. “Any news?” he asked as he stood from his chair behind the desk.

Courtney shook her head. “We were just wondering if you’d thought of anything else since Cameron spoke to you.” As she waited for him to answer, she wondered how long her heart could continue the frantic beat in her chest, how long could she remain in this horrendous state of limbo?

“No. I mean, Sheriff Evans asked me if I’d seen anyone around your room throughout the evening, but I didn’t pay any attention. I usually just sit behind the desk until somebody comes in, and tonight was pretty quiet.”

Courtney knew it had been a long shot. “Thanks, Mickey.” She began to turn to leave, but her attention was caught by the plate of cookies that sat on the counter. They were artfully arranged on a red paper plate with a pink doily.

She froze. Where had she seen that before? “Those look nice and fresh,” she said, racking her brain to remember where she’d seen cookies arranged like that before.

“Yeah, the last couple of weeks Abigail Swisher has been coming by and dropping off cookies for the staff and guests. She bakes a mean chocolate chip cookie.” He looked stricken. “Jeez, I didn’t mention to Sheriff Evans that she’d dropped by earlier.”

Abigail. Of course, she’d brought a plate of cookies to Courtney while she’d been in the hospital. As Courtney and Nick left the office, Courtney’s brain flashed with thoughts and images.

Abigail...who had lost a baby about the same time that Garrett had been born. Abigail, who often came to the park at the same time Courtney took Garrett. Abigail had been in the café the night that Courtney thought she’d been drugged.

The last thing Courtney wanted to do was point a finger at an innocent woman, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered about Abigail.

Had she had some sort of psychotic snap? Had she somehow fell into a delusion where she thought Garrett was her son? That’s what you thought about Rusty, she reminded herself, and you were wrong about him.

Still, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. As she and Nick stepped back out into the darkness of night, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Nick?”

He turned to look at her, his features taut with tension, but softening slightly as he gazed at her. “Yeah?”

“I think maybe we need to talk to Abigail Swisher.”

He frowned. “Abigail? Why her?”

The more Courtney thought about it, the more frantically her heart beat. She told him everything that was whirling around in her mind. “Am I crazy, or is it possible?”

“If you’re crazy then I’m right there with you. Let’s go,” he said, immediately pulling her back to his truck.

“Maybe we should call Cameron? He’ll wonder where we’ve gone.”

“We’ll call when we get closer to the Swisher place,” Nick replied.

Minutes later they were on their way to Abigail’s farmhouse. Nick had called Cameron, who was still on his way back from Evanston and wasn’t happy with them, but Cameron’s disapproval of them going out alone didn’t slow Nick’s speed.

“I don’t want you talking to her,” Courtney said. She held up a hand to still the protest she knew Nick would make. “If what I think is true, then she’s sick and I don’t want you coming at her. I’ll approach her woman to woman, see if I can get inside the house and see any indication that Garrett is there. You already went at Rusty like you were going to tear his head off, and we were wrong.”

“If we’d been right I would have torn his head off,” Nick replied darkly.

“I need to go in first, Nick. It’s a gut instinct, a woman’s intuition,” she said.