Cold Case at Cobra Creek

by Rita Herron

  Sandy Lewis—Sandra Peyton Lewis? “What’s the address?”

  “I’m texting it to you now.”

  Dugan ended the call and referred to the text. He had to check this lead out. But the last time he’d taken Sage with him, it had been nearly devastating for her.

  This time he’d go alone.

  If Jordan turned out to be Benji and he recovered the little boy, he’d surprise her. If not, she would never know.

  * * *

  SAGE FORCED HERSELF out of bed each day, but the depression that seized her was nearly as paralyzing as it was the first few weeks after Benji disappeared.

  She had to face the fact that she might never see her son again.

  Could she bear to go on without him?

  The women’s group at church surprised her by stopping by with baked goods Christmas Eve morning. She had joined the group two months after Benji disappeared because she’d woken up one day with no desire to live.

  It had scared her to think that she might do something crazy like take her own life. Worse, if she did and Benji was found, she wouldn’t be around to take care of him.

  That day had driven her to ask for help, and she’d gone to the church seeking solace and prayer. She had found it, both with the pastor and the women who’d embraced her and revitalized her spirit with their positive thinking and compassion.

  Today she felt as if she’d regressed. They must have sensed it, because the coffee and goodies were simply a backdrop to let her talk.

  She hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for coming, then waved as they hurried to their cars. Five women with five different backgrounds and lives. Families of all sorts. Troubles of their own.

  But they had come to her when she needed emotional support the most.

  Wiping at tears, she cleaned up the kitchen and stored the tins of cookies on the kitchen bar, setting them out as she would for Benji. The Christmas plate with reindeer on it awaited the cookies and milk they would have left for Santa.

  The women had reminded her of the candlelight service at six, and she had promised she would attend. Determined to keep herself from spiraling downward, she spent the afternoon wrapping the presents she’d bought for the children’s hospital and the women’s shelter, then stacked them all in her car to carry to the church.

  A group would disperse them in the morning to make sure that children in need had Christmas, like all the other kids in the world.

  She had volunteered last year. Maybe she’d go this year, as well.

  Anything to help her get through the long, lonely day.

  Her mind turned to Dugan and the numerous calls he’d made. She wanted to see him, missed him in a way she’d never expected to.

  And not just because he’d been helping her.

  Because he’d stood by, solid and strong. He was handsome, sexy, protective, honorable. He owned and worked his own ranch, but he also worked search-and-rescue missions for strangers.

  All qualities Ron and Trace had never possessed.

  But Dugan deserved someone who could love and take care of him, not an empty shell of a woman who had to force herself to get out of bed to face the day.

  * * *

  DUGAN FOUND SANDY’S HOUSE fifty miles from Cobra Creek. It was a nondescript wooden house with a fenced yard, a swing set in the back and a gray minivan in the drive.

  At first glance, it appeared to be homey. Christmas lights twinkled from the awnings, a handmade wreath garnished the front door and a tree complete with trimmings was visible through a picture window. A bike with training wheels sat in the front yard, and a soccer ball had been left in the driveway.

  Was this woman simply a mother or a kidnapper?

  He was just about to climb out when the front door opened, and a woman stepped outside, pulling a rolling suitcase. She wore sunglasses and a scarf and seemed to be in a hurry. She glanced up and down the street, opened the back of the minivan and tossed her suitcase inside, then shut the door.

  She rushed back to the house and seconds later, emerged with a little boy in tow, a jungle backpack slung over his shoulder. Dugan sat up straighter to get a better look. The kid was the right size, but he was wearing a baseball cap, and Dugan couldn’t see his face.

  She tugged the boy’s hand, but he drew back, and she stooped down and appeared to be reprimanding him. The boy dropped his head, allowing her to lead him to the van.

  Dugan almost interceded then. It looked as though Sandy was getting ready to take a trip. Had Gandt’s arrest spooked her enough to run?

  Deciding she might be meeting up with an accomplice, he waited until she backed from the drive, then followed her. He kept his distance, and maintained a steady speed so as not to alarm her.

  A half hour later, she turned into the bus station. Dugan parked a couple of spaces from her and watched to see if she was meeting someone. She climbed out, looking over her shoulder and all around the parking lot as if she feared someone was after her.

  Seemingly satisfied, she retrieved her suitcase, then pushed open the boy’s door and helped him from the van. After kneeling to speak to him, she took his hand and ushered him toward the bus station.

  Dugan didn’t intend to let her get away.

  He strode toward the entrance and caught up with her just as she stepped up to the ticket counter. The boy kept his head down, and she had a death grip on his hand.

  “I need one adult and one child’s ticket to New Mexico.” She fished out ID and a wad of cash.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Miss Peyton,” Dugan said in a low voice near her ear. “Not until you answer some questions.”

  She gasped and turned around, wide-eyed. “Who are you?”

  “A friend of Sage Freeport.”

  Her face paled, and she tried to tug her arm from his grip, but he held her firmly. “Now, unless you want me to pull my gun and make a scene here, do as I say.”

  She stilled, and he saw her glance at the boy in panic. The little guy made a frightened sound, which ripped at Dugan’s heart.

  “It’s okay, son. I’m not here to hurt you.” He hated to scare him, but if the child was Sage’s son, he was saving the boy. He nudged the woman. “Walk back outside to your van.”

  She darted furtive looks around her as if she was debating whether or not to scream for help, but he opened his jacket enough to reveal his gun, and she sucked in a breath and headed toward the van. When they reached it, he ordered her up against the door.

  “Please don’t hurt my son,” she cried.

  “I’m not here to hurt him,” Dugan said, intentionally lowering his voice to calm the kid, who looked as if he might bolt any second.

  “Then what do you want? I have some cash—”

  “This is not a robbery.” Dugan gestured toward the boy, who had huddled up against her with his head buried in her stomach. “I’m here because of Benji.”

  Her eyes flared with panic, and the boy suddenly whipped his head around.

  Dugan stooped down to his eye level and reached for the boy’s hat. “Are you Benji Freeport?”

  “His name is Jordan,” the woman cried. “He’s my son.”

  The hat slid off to reveal a head of choppy, blondish hair and eyes that looked familiar.

  Sage’s deep green eyes.

  Remembering Sage said he had an extra piece of cartilage in his ear, he lifted the boy’s hat. Yes. Just like the picture.

  “You are Benji, aren’t you, son?”

  The boy fidgeted but didn’t respond.

  Dugan removed a photo that Sage had given him of the two of them from his pocket and showed it to him. “This woman, Sage, she’s my friend. She wanted me to find you. She’s your real mother, and she’s been looking for you ever since you disappeared two years ago.”

  The boy’s face crumpled. “Mama?”

  “Yes,” Dugan said softly. “Your mama loves you, and she misses you and wants you to come home.”

  Benji angled his head toward Sandra Peyton, hi
s look sharp with accusations. “You said she didn’t want me anymore.”

  Dugan’s pulse hammered.

  “She didn’t, but I wanted you.” Sandra’s chin quivered, and she began to cry. “I love you, Jordan. I’m your mama now.”

  The boy looked confused, his gaze turning back to Dugan. “Sage is your mother,” Dugan said. “And she never gave you up, never told this woman she could have you.” He kept his voice gentle. “She loves you so much. She’s kept your Christmas tree up with your presents under it, just waiting on you to come back and open them.”

  Benji’s little face contorted with anguish.

  “Do you remember what happened, Benji? A man named Ron Lewis took you one morning....”

  Tears pooled in his eyes, but Benji nodded as if the memory was slowly returning.

  A strangled sound came from Benji’s throat. “He took me to the river and told me to go with her.”

  Dugan glared at Sandra. “You and Lewis were a couple. You planned the kidnapping together.”

  Sandra broke down in tears. “I loved Ron and he loved me. We hadn’t seen each other since I had that miscarriage. But he called me one day and said he was about to make a big windfall, and that he wanted us to be a family.” Her voice broke. “But I couldn’t get pregnant again.”

  Disgust churned inside Dugan. “So Lewis cozied up to Sage so he could get to know Benji?”

  She wiped at tears. “He didn’t want Benji to be afraid when he left with him, so he got to know him. And it would have worked, too. We would have all been together if someone hadn’t killed Ron.”

  Dugan punched Jaxon’s number. “I have Sandra Peyton and Benji Freeport at the bus station. I need backup.”

  As soon as Jaxon arrested Sandra, he’d take Benji home to Sage, where he belonged.

  * * *

  SAGE LET HERSELF into the inn, grateful for her friends who’d convinced her to attend the service. Of course, when they’d lit candles, turned off the church lights and sung “Silent Night” in the candlelight, she remembered the joy on Benji’s face as he’d held his candle up, and she nearly collapsed in tears.

  The Christmas lights twinkled as she flipped on the light switch, and the scent of cinnamon and apples swirled toward her from her earlier baking.

  Maybe she’d take the baked goods to the seniors’ center in the morning. She couldn’t stand the thought of eating cinnamon rolls by herself. She twisted the locket, her heart thumping. She thought she’d gotten accustomed to being alone, but tonight she ached for Benji.

  Dugan’s face flashed in her mind, and she wondered where he was tonight. He hadn’t mentioned any family.

  Was he still looking for Benji, or had he given up?

  She dropped her keys in the ceramic pot on the table by the door, then decided to light the candles in the kitchen and living room.

  She had just poured herself a glass of wine and started to play her collection of Christmas music when a knock sounded at the door. Probably someone else from church, checking on her.

  She hurried to the front door, prepared to assure her visitor that she was fine, but Dugan stood on the other side.

  He looked so utterly handsome that her knees nearly buckled.

  “Sage, I had to see you.”

  The urgency in his tone sent a streak of panic through her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” A small smile tugged at his mouth, and his eyes were sparkling, making him look even more handsome. Come to think of it, she’d never seen him smile. “I have a present for you,” he said gruffly.

  Sage twisted the locket again. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

  “Yes, I did. I made you a promise, and I keep my promises.” Then he stepped to the side, and Sage’s heart went wild as she saw the little boy beside him.

  Emotions choked her. After two years, she’d been afraid she wouldn’t recognize her son when she saw him again, but she instantly knew him.

  Dugan had kept his promise. He had found Benji.

  She dropped to her knees, soaking in the sight of him, desperate to pull him into her arms. But he looked hesitant, frightened, wary.

  “Benji?”

  She glanced up at Dugan, needing answers.

  “Lewis took him to Sandra Peyton. He’s been living with her for the past two years.”

  Sage wiped at the tears streaming down her face.

  “She told him that you gave him up,” Dugan said almost apologetically, “that you didn’t want him anymore.”

  “Oh, God...” Pain rocked through Sage. Her poor little boy thought she’d abandoned him.

  She took Benji’s hands in hers and gave him a smile. She had to convince him she’d always loved him. “Benji, I never gave you up. I would never do that.” She brushed at a tear. “One morning I got up, and Ron had taken you without telling me. I called the police, I called the news station, we put the story on TV, I did everything I could to find you.”

  He had grown taller and lost some of his chubby baby fat, but his eyes were just as bright and sweet. “I love you so much, Benji. I prayed every day that I’d find you.”

  He lifted his chin, big tears in his eyes. “Mommy?”

  “Yes, sweet boy. I’m your mommy.” She nearly sobbed at the feel of his tiny palm in hers. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  She led him into the kitchen and showed him the tabletop tree, leaving Dugan in the foyer. “Remember when you used to decorate this for your room? It was your own tree.”

  His eyes widened as he stared at it. Then she pointed out the presents with his name on them. “This one in Santa paper was the gift I bought for you the year you disappeared. Do you remember it? You were only three, but you shook it every day and tried to guess what was in it.”

  He wrinkled his forehead as if he was trying to recall the memory.

  “I bought this one in the snowman paper for you last year,” she said as she gestured toward another package. “And this one wrapped in reindeer paper this year, because I was hoping I’d find you and you’d come home.”

  He looked torn as if he wanted to believe her but was still on the verge. She hated Sandra Peyton for what she’d done to him, for lying to him.

  Then she had an idea. “Let me show you your room. I kept it just the way it was.”

  She led him up the stairs and to his bedroom, the room she hadn’t changed since he left. Inside, she walked over to the bed and picked up the special blanket he’d slept with and held it out to him. “See, I saved your blankie. I knew one day that you’d come home.”

  His little chin wobbled as tears filled his eyes. “Mommy?”

  “Yes, baby, I’ve missed you so much.” She opened her arms, and he fell into them, his tears mingling with hers as they savored the reunion.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  By the time Sage and Benji came back downstairs, Dugan was gone. A pang of disappointment tugged at her. He obviously felt as if he’d done his job and had gone home.

  But she missed him, anyway.

  Still, her son was finally home. It was the day she’d been waiting for. And soothing Benji’s fears and rebuilding his trust were the only things that mattered tonight.

  They spent the evening making sugar cookies and talking about the past. At times they were both sad, but she tried to help him focus on the fact that they were together again, and he was safe.

  Much to her relief, Benji indicated that Sandra had been good to him, had been patient and played with him and read him stories.

  Of course, they’d moved around a lot. Sandra had probably known that one day the truth would catch up with her.

  Sage fought against the bitterness eating at her. She was grateful Sandra had loved Benji, but the woman had stolen all that time and precious memories from her.

  And Benji had suffered the trauma.

  But focusing on the past they’d lost would only keep her from enjoying the future, so she vowed to let go of the bitterness.

  She read him
Christmas stories and tucked him in, then watched him fall asleep, soaking in his features.

  When she crawled in bed that night, she was happier than she’d been in ages. She and Benji were a family again.

  But there was one thing missing.

  Dugan.

  She sat up, her heart stuttering. Oh, goodness.

  While she’d been guarding her heart and looking for her son, she’d fallen in love with Dugan.

  What was she going to do about it?

  Did Dugan have feelings for her?

  * * *

  DUGAN MISSED SAGE like crazy. But she needed time to reunite with her son. Not pressure from him.

  But when he rose Christmas morning and combed his ranch house, the deafening silence got to him. He couldn’t help imagining Benji running down to find Santa’s presents and Sage making breakfast for the two of them.

  Work and the land had always been his first loves.

  But his life felt empty now.

  He suddenly felt antsy and had to get out. A ride across his ranch would do him good, help him clear his head, pass some time and take his mind off the woman who’d stolen a piece of his soul the past few days. And her kid, who’d won his heart the minute he laid eyes on him.

  He combed the property, examining fences in case they needed mending, then checking livestock. Hiram and his other two hands had done a good job taking care of things while he worked the case. Now it was time for him to get back to it.

  By the time he reached the farmhouse, his stomach was growling. He had nothing in the house to cook, certainly no holiday dinner.

  Maybe he’d drive into town for a burger. That is, if the diner was open. Most folks were home with family today.

  He guided his horse up to the house, slowing when he saw Sage’s car. What was she doing here?

  His heart began to race. He steered the horse to the rail and dismounted, then saw Sage and Benji sitting in the porch swing. Sage had her arm slung around Benji, and he was leaning into her as they rocked the swing back and forth.

  It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  His heart took a funny leap, his mind roaring down a dangerous path. What would it be like to have a family to come home to?