Mysterious Abduction (Badge 0f Honor Mystery Book 1)

by Rita Herron

  “You two never met?”

  “No.” She folded her arms.

  “Was the divorce amicable?”

  “Like I said, he didn’t share details, although I had the impression she wanted him back.”

  If that was the case and Kurt had been dating someone else, his ex might have been jealous and killed him because he rejected her.

  Definitely an avenue to explore.

  “Thanks for seeing me, Cora,” Jacob said. “If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please call me.”

  She nodded but seemed reluctant as she walked him to the door.

  “Jacob?”

  Her soft voice, so full of need, made his chest clench. He leaned against the door and faced her. Maybe she had been holding back and was ready to come clean. “Yes?”

  “Did you mean what you said about your brother looking for Alice?”

  The inkling of hope in her tone stirred his protective instincts. “Yes. It’s difficult without current photographs to distribute, but he’s kept her file active. He also has someone looking at adoptions that occurred around that time.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “If it would help, I’ve drawn sketches projecting what Alice might look like at every age. I based them on photos of me and of Drew when we were young.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  “I guess that sounds crazy,” she said in a haunted whisper. “But I like to draw.”

  Jacob heard the ache in her words and shook his head. “You don’t sound crazy. And it might be helpful if you sent me some of those drawings. I’ll pass them to Liam, and he can distribute to other law enforcement agencies and NCEMC. We might get lucky and someone will recognize her.”

  Hope lit her eyes. God help him, he didn’t want to let her down again. He understood the disappointment when a clue didn’t pan out.

  He’d chased dead leads in search of his father’s killer since that damn fire.

  But at least he knew where his father was. He had closure.

  Cora lived with uncertainty every day.

  Cora cleared her throat. “I can drop some sketches by your office tomorrow if that’s all right.”

  He nodded. “That works.”

  “One more question, Cora. Did Kurt question Drew?”

  She hesitated. “Yes, along with everyone who was at the hospital at the time.”

  “How did it go with Drew?”

  “Not well,” she admitted.

  He didn’t expect it had. Drew had been furious when Jacob questioned him. He’d set his sights on making partner at his law firm, and had threatened to sue the sheriff’s office if they maligned his character with accusations.

  Ironically, the publicity had catapulted him into the limelight and earned him sympathy from his coworkers. He’d made partner a few months after the kidnapping.

  Then he’d left Cora to deal with the emotional fallout of looking for their child alone.

  Drew wouldn’t like to be questioned again. But Jacob wouldn’t allow Drew’s attitude to deter him.

  If the bastard had anything to do with the PI’s death, Jacob would find out.

  * * *

  JACOB’S WORDS ECHOED in Cora’s ears. We might get lucky and someone will recognize her.

  He’d said we, as if she wasn’t alone. As if he truly hadn’t given up. As if there might be a chance to find her daughter...

  Heart hammering, she hurried up the steps to the room that had been meant for her baby. In her mind, she pictured it filled with all the precious things she’d received at her baby shower—the giant teddy bear and sweet little embroidered dresses. The tiny white kids’ table and the storybooks. The pink-and-white polka-dotted sheets and the dancing bear mobile she’d hung over the white Jenny Lind crib.

  The memory of the day she’d come home from therapy and found the room empty taunted her.

  Drew had been standing at the empty nursery, stoic and calm. “The therapist suggested it might help you move on if we cleaned out the baby’s room.”

  Seeing that empty room had nearly brought her to her knees. “I don’t want to move on!” she’d screamed. “I want to find my daughter. I thought you did, too.”

  Pain wrenched his face. “I do, Cora. But... I can’t go on like this. Day after day listening to you cry. Watching you touch the baby clothes and sleep with her stuffed animals. You’re driving yourself crazy.”

  “You mean I’m driving you crazy,” she shouted.

  “Yes. I’m trying to hold it together, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t hold us both together.”

  “What are you saying? That you’re giving up on finding Alice?”

  “I’m not giving up,” he said, “but it’s been months. The leads have gone cold. Bills are piling up. My boss is pressuring me to see clients again. I have to resume my practice or I’ll never make partner. It might do you good to return to teaching.”

  “My life is my daughter.” She’d waved her hand across the room. “Where are her things? I want them back.”

  “I took them to a shelter,” he said in a low, tired voice. “People need them, Cora. We don’t.”

  “Alice will need them when she comes home.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits, then a tear slid down his cheek. “What if she doesn’t come home? We have to face that possibility—”

  “No!” She lunged at him. “You can’t give up and forget about her!”

  He stood ramrod straight while she hit him in the chest with her fists and cried. Finally she spent her emotions and sagged against him. Then he pushed her away and walked out the door.

  Cora fought despair. The moment the door slammed, she’d known her marriage was over. That losing Alice had torn them apart.

  She crossed the room to the hope chest she’d bought after Drew moved out. Inside it, she’d placed cards, letters and gifts for every birthday and holiday that had passed. Stuffed animals, baby dolls and puzzles. Books and crayons and coloring books. A pumpkin Halloween costume and a red Christmas dress. Soft ballerina shoes and bows for Alice’s hair.

  The wrapping paper was fading now, ribbons crushed. But she’d kept them so if—no, when—she found Alice, she’d prove that she’d never forgotten her.

  The only thing Drew hadn’t given away was the pink-and-green blanket she’d crocheted before Alice was born.

  She removed the blanket from the chest and pressed it to her face, the yarn baby soft.

  She’d never gotten to wrap her daughter in that blanket.

  The memory of cradling her newborn in her arms was so distant that she felt as if she was clawing at thin air to grasp it, but just as her fingertips reached it, the wind viciously snatched it away.

  Tears blurred her eyes, and she moved to the shelf where she kept the journals of her sketches. She’d drawn at least one sketch a week, marking off the days as she tried to imagine the changes in her daughter’s face and how she was growing.

  She retrieved the latest journal—Alice at five—and studied the sketches. She’d take them all to Jacob tomorrow and let him decide which ones to use.

  Although her chest tightened with anxiety. She’d been searching the face of every child she’d seen or met for five years.

  Would she even recognize her daughter if she came face-to-face with her?

  * * *

  KNOWING IT WOULD take time for Griff and the crime investigators to comb the scene for forensics, Jacob found the address for Kurt’s ex-wife. If Philips had family, she would know. She also needed to be notified of her ex’s death.

  He wanted to study her reaction when he told her, learn if she had motive for murder.

  He phoned his deputy to inform him of his plan. “Make sure Griff and the crime techs recover Philips’s cell phone and computer. They could contain information about what he was working on. Any
files they can salvage may be valuable.”

  “On it,” Deputy Rowan said.

  “I’m headed to Philips’s ex-wife’s house now. Will keep you posted.”

  Jacob kept replaying his conversation with Cora in his head as he drove from town. Her anguish was a palpable force.

  The last thing he wanted to do was give her false hope.

  The clouds darkened in intensity as he veered onto the mountain road leading to Mrs. Philips’s house. Trees swayed in the wind as the storm threatened, thunder booming in the distance.

  He hoped to hell the rain held off until Griff and the crime team finished. Rain would wash away evidence that was already difficult enough to recover from the ashes and debris of the crumpled building.

  His GPS directed him to a side road on the mountain. He maneuvered the turn, slowing as another car barreled around the curve too fast. He let it go by, then steered his SUV up the incline into a small neighborhood built overlooking the mountain.

  When he reached the Philipses’ house, he turned into the drive and parked. Lights illuminated the inside of the A-frame cabin. He climbed out and strode up to the steps to the front stoop. A black Lab raced over to him, and he paused for a minute to let the dog sniff him. The Lab licked his hand, and Jacob smiled. If Philips’s ex had this dog as a watchdog, it was falling down on the job.

  He glanced around the property, then knocked. A noise echoed from inside, then footsteps and the door opened. A woman with short, choppy black hair answered, a cocktail in her hand.

  “Mrs. Philips?”

  She took in his shield and frowned. “Yeah.”

  “I’m Sheriff Maverick.” He took a quick sniff to determine if she smelled of smoke from the fire and detected the scent of cigarette smoke. Hmm...a cigarette lighter could have been used to set the fire. “May I come in?”

  She tugged at her T-shirt. “What’s this about, Sheriff?”

  “We need to talk.”

  She frowned, but stepped aside and allowed him to enter. The ice in her drink clinked as she took a big swallow. He followed her through a small entryway into her den. Laundry seemed to be spread everywhere, magazines and dirty dishes scattered around.

  She plopped down into a big club chair and looked up at him with questions in her eyes. Although her drinking might be a result of knowing her husband was dead—or that she’d murdered him and feared being caught.

  But judging from two other empty bottles in the kitchen, Jacob surmised she might have a habit.

  “Mrs. Philips, when did you last speak to or see your husband?” he asked.

  She crossed her legs, then snagged a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table, tapped one out and lit it. “Last week, I guess.”

  “Last week? Can you be specific?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe Friday. No, wait, it was Saturday.”

  “You two were separated?”

  “Divorced,” she said in a tone laced with bitterness. “Eight months ago. Why are you asking about Kurt and me?”

  Jacob ignored her question. “Were you and your husband working toward a reconciliation?”

  “I wanted it, but Kurt...he was interested in greener pastures.” She leaned forward with her hands on her knees, her expression worried. “You sure are asking a lot of questions. Did something happen to Kurt?”

  Jacob forced a neutral expression. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry to inform you, but he was killed earlier tonight.”

  Her face paled, and she collapsed back against the sofa, her hand shaking as she raised the cigarette to her lips.

  “That’s why you asked about our divorce.”

  He nodded. “I need to know if Kurt had enemies. Or if he was involved with someone else.”

  Her mouth tightened. “You want to know about Kurt, go ask his girlfriend.”

  Jacob narrowed his eyes. “Can you give me a name?”

  She tapped ashes into an empty soda can on the table. “That lady whose child was kidnapped. She’s crazy if you ask me, but Kurt had a thing for her.”

  Jacob’s pulse jumped. “You mean Cora Reeves?”

  “That’s right.” She grabbed her drink and tossed the rest of it down. “I think she was just using him, but he didn’t care. Kurt was a sucker for a sob story and that lady had one.”

  Of course she was using him. She’d hired him to do a job, find her missing daughter. But this woman was implying that Cora and Kurt had a personal relationship.

  Was Cora romantically involved with Kurt Philips? If so, why hadn’t she told him about it when he’d asked?

  Chapter Four

  Jacob couldn’t get Cora off his mind as he drove home. Were Cora and Kurt personally involved?

  He didn’t know why the thought bothered him. Cora certainly had suffered when her baby was stolen and her husband deserted her. She deserved to find love again and happiness.

  If she had been with Kurt, his death would be another loss.

  His chest clenched. The sorrow in her eyes always wrenched his gut.

  He parked in the driveway to his cabin on the side of the mountain overlooking the river. Although summer was starting and the temperature was climbing, the air felt cooler and fresher here on the mountain.

  Still, the scent of charred wood and metal clung to his skin, a reminder of the fire that had robbed his father’s life.

  His father’s face taunted him as he let himself inside his cabin.

  Jacob had always looked up to his old man. Seth Maverick was honest, had fought for justice and worked hard to protect the people in town. All Jacob ever wanted was to be like him.

  Six months before the fire, his dream had come true. While other classmates had left the small town, he’d learned to love it the way his father had. He’d attended the police academy, then come home, and his father had deputized him. They’d been doing routine rounds when the 911 call came in about the fire.

  Perspiration broke out on the back of Jacob’s neck, and he walked through the cabin to the back door, opened it and stepped outside onto the deck that overlooked the canyon and river. A slight breeze stirred the trees, bringing the scent of wildflowers and rain from the day before, yet he was still sweating as the memories bombarded him.

  By the time he and his father arrived at the hospital, flames were shooting from one side of the building. The fire alarm had been tripped, and the hospital staff was busy helping patients outside. One fire engine was on the scene and another careened into the parking lot, tires squealing. Emergency workers and firefighters raced to save lives, and roll out hoses to extinguish the blaze.

  His father threw the police car into Park, and they both had jumped out to run toward the building. Two firefighters rushed out carrying patients while doctors and nurses and medics combed the lawn to help.

  Screams from inside the building had filled the night, part of the roof had collapsed and a window had burst, spraying glass. Smoke poured upward into the night sky.

  More firefighters had rushed inside and the volunteer fire department had arrived and jumped into motion to help.

  His father didn’t hesitate. He had dashed toward the burning building.

  Adrenaline surging through him, Jacob had done the same.

  For the next half hour, they’d helped people evacuate. Jacob carried more than one ill patient in his arms and pushed wheelchair patients unable to walk on their own.

  Another half hour, and the terrified cries and screams were embedded in his memory forever. Family members wove through the crowd on the lawn, searching for loved ones. A man ran from the building, shouting as flames shot from his clothing.

  Jacob had rushed toward him, taken his arm and forced him to drop to the ground and roll to extinguish the flames. A medic had jogged toward them and taken over as Jacob hurried to help a pregnant woman down the steps.

  Jacob recalled the
ear-piercing scream that had suddenly rent the air. Shooting to the source, his gaze found a young woman in a hospital gown by a row of bassinets.

  “My baby, my baby!” she cried.

  Jacob had sprinted through the crowd to reach her. She was frantic, yelling at one of the nurses.

  Tears of fear poured down the woman’s face. “My baby...where is she?”

  Jacob’s lungs strained for air as he realized the bassinet was empty.

  “The babies were all here,” the nurse said. “We brought them out in the bassinets.”

  Jacob gripped the woman’s arms as a sob tore from her gut. “We’ll find her,” he murmured. “We’ll find her.”

  Jacob closed his eyes, trying to banish the images after that. The frantic search of the hospital and property for the missing infant. When Drew had finally joined Cora, he’d looked frightened that his daughter wasn’t with his wife.

  A few minutes later, a staff member ran toward them holding a hospital bracelet he’d found in the parking lot. A hospital bracelet with the name “Baby Westbrook—Girl” on it.

  The bracelet that had belonged to Cora’s baby.

  “We’ll find her,” he’d promised.

  But he hadn’t.

  He hadn’t given up, though. He never would.

  * * *

  EXHAUSTION TUGGED AT Cora the next morning. She stumbled into the kitchen for coffee, made herself a cup and carried it to her screened porch. Dawn was just breaking, the sun streaking the sky in orange, yellow and red. As a teenager, she used to sleep half the morning, but since Alice had been gone, she struggled with insomnia. When she finally slept, nightmares plagued her, and she often rose with the sun.

  She loved the peace and quiet of the mountains. The beauty of nature and the rolling hills and the blossoms on the trees.

  But once again that peace had been disturbed.

  She’d cried herself to sleep over Kurt the night before. He had been a good man. Had been kind to her. Had tried to help her.