by R. C. Ryan
She sighed before pushing away. “You’re getting way too sure of yourself, cowboy.” She walked to the closet and pulled out a pair of denims and a simple cotton shirt. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get dressed. I have tons of work to see to.”
“Spoilsport. I think I liked the old Meg better.” With a laugh he trudged down the stairs to retrieve his clothes.
When he returned, he was dressed, and Meg was just slipping her feet into sneakers.
“If you’d like we could—” At the ringing of his cell phone, Jake paused to remove it from his shirt pocket. Seeing the caller’s identification, he grinned as he said, “Hey, Big Jim. I was just going to suggest that Meg and I head over for—”
His voice faded and he listened in silence before saying, “I’ll check right now.”
At Meg’s questioning look he said, “Cory and Shadow aren’t in the barn. Big Jim figures they’re probably riding over here. I’m going to check outside.”
“I’ll go along.”
As they descended the stairs Meg was chewing on her lower lip. “I know Cory’s just a kid, and a troubled one at that, but he should have let your family know he was leaving. It isn’t right to just saddle up and go.”
“Yeah. You might want to have a little talk with him.” Jake threw open the back door and started down the steps. “I’ll check the barn.”
While he was gone, Meg circled around the ranch house, checking for any sign of Cory and his pony.
Seeing Jake returning alone she ran up to him. When she got close enough, she could see the frown on his face. “He’s not here?”
Jake shook his head. “But he could be on his way. Big Jim said nobody saw him leave, so they don’t know how long he’s been gone.”
Meg dug out her cell phone and punched in her brother’s number. After half a dozen rings she looked over at Jake. “No answer. Now what?”
Jake shrugged. “I guess we’d better wait here for a while and see if he shows up.”
Meg was gripping her hands together tightly. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Hey now.” Jake closed a hand over hers. “Let’s not borrow trouble. He’s a kid. They do dumb, careless things.”
She nodded. “I know. But why would he take off without telling anybody?”
“We’ll deal with that later. For now, I’ll let my family know that we’re going to hang here for a while longer and wait for him to join us.”
They waited more than an hour.
To pass the time, Jake suggested they clean Shadow’s stall and have it ready with grain and water.
When they’d finished, they took a turn around the house and even walked to the high meadow, but there was no sign of Cory. Jake phoned his ranch to see if the boy had returned.
He and his grandfather exchanged a quick conversation before Jake dropped his phone into his pocket and said to Meg, “No sign of him there, either. Big Jim thinks it’s time to call Everett Fletcher.”
He saw fear dart into her eyes as she put a hand on his arm. “Are you thinking something bad has happened to him? Do you think he’s been kidnapped?”
“I didn’t say that.” He caught her hand in his and led her toward his truck. “But Big Jim thinks we shouldn’t waste any more time. Even if Cory’s just off for a joyride with Shadow, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I told my grandfather I agree with him. He’s phoning the police chief.”
The ride to the Conway ranch was the longest of Meg’s life. She and Jake sat in complete silence, but it was clear that their minds were twisting and turning around the fact that a seven-year-old boy wasn’t where he ought to be.
She refused to allow herself to think the word missing. It was too ominous. And even more so, when she thought about the fact that the Conway family had been living with that word for a lifetime.
Jake and Meg pulled up just as Everett Fletcher stepped from his police vehicle. They were met by the entire family, who spilled out onto the back porch as soon as they arrived.
“Okay.” Chief Fletcher had his notebook in hand. “Give it to me from the beginning. What do you know for certain?”
“I walked with Cory to the barn last night.” Big Jim’s tone was rough with emotion. “He saw me at Clemmy’s grave, and we spent a few minutes there before I headed up to the house and he went inside the barn.”
“What did the two of you talk about?” Everett said.
Big Jim pursed his lips. “Death. Talking to those who have left this world. Our conscience. I admired Jake’s hat that he’d given to the boy. Just…things.”
“Did he say anything about leaving?”
Big Jim shook his head sadly. “Not a thing. We said good night, and I went up to the house. On my way there I asked Manning in the bunkhouse to check on him. He claims he saw the boy shortly after midnight, asleep in his bedroll in Shadow’s stall. Honey and her puppies were asleep as well. No sign of any trouble at all.”
The old man’s tone deepened with anger. “This morning, the stall was empty. Cory and his colt gone. Honey and the puppies had been fed and watered, so I know he saw to his chores before taking off. Nobody heard Honey barking, so we don’t think any strangers were involved in this.”
Chief Fletcher turned to Meg. “Your ranch is the nearest neighbor. Any sign of the boy?”
She shook her head, fighting a sudden welling of tears. “My place is miles from here. Chief, he’s only seven.”
“But he grew up here. He knows the countryside.” Jake kept an arm around her shoulders while he added, “Before leaving, we checked the barns and pastures, Everett. No sign of him or Shadow. We waited an hour before heading here. That was plenty of time for a horse to cover the distance.”
“Where would he go?” Meg asked. “And why?”
“All right now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” The police chief tucked away his notebook. “He may be gone, but we don’t know that he’s in any danger. After all, it appears that he left of his own free will, and that means we ought to assume he and his colt are safe, for the moment.”
He turned. “Let’s start in the barn. I’d like to see the stall, have a look around, just to be sure there aren’t signs of a forced entry.”
Everyone trooped after him.
Clayton Manning, the wrangler who had checked on Cory, was summoned to give his statement to the chief. He repeated what had already been told by Cole.
Everett listened before asking, “And you checked again around five this morning?”
“Yes, sir. I saw that the stall was empty, and the boy and his horse were gone. Just then Big Jim came walking in, and I told him what I’d found. It was Big Jim who noticed that Honey’s food and water had been taken care of, so we figured the boy hadn’t been gone very long.”
Big Jim added, “The water was still cold from the faucet.”
Clayton Manning nodded. “Big Jim had me scour the west pasture, while he took the east, with Josh and Quinn taking the north and south.”
“And none of you found a thing?”
Jake stalked over to the stall and noted that the bedroll still lay where the boy had left it. He idly picked it up to toss over the rail when he heard something fall into the hay. As he rummaged around, he found Cory’s cell phone.
His shout had the others racing over to gather around.
“See if he had any incoming or outgoing calls,” Everett Fletcher ordered.
Jake scrolled through and held it up for the police chief to read.
“A text,” he announced. He read it aloud.
One hour. Or else
The chief snatched the phone and noted the number of the person who’d sent the text. Then he removed his own cell phone from his pocket.
His tone was crisp and businesslike as he spoke. “Everett Fletcher here, up in Paintbrush. We have a possible incident on the Conway ranch. I’d appreciate some information on a cell phone number, and possibly some backup.”
He walked some distance away, speaking into the phone in
crisp tones.
When he hung up he returned to where the others were standing together. “We can count on help from the state police. They’re checking now on the number where the text message originated.”
He paused to place a beefy hand on Meg’s shoulder. “We’re going to find your little brother, Miss Stanford. You just keep on holding a good thought.”
“I’ll try. Thank you, Chief.”
While the others began following him from the barn, Meg remained behind, biting her lip while deep in thought.
Reaching for her cell phone, she called a number on her speed dial.
“Raven? Meg Stanford here. I have an important case that needs your expertise. How many operatives can you spare?”
She listened, then gave him what little information she had before ringing off.
Minutes later, looking grim and thoughtful, she joined the others.
It was a somber group that gathered around the kitchen table.
Even after the time they had already put in combing the pastures for Cory, they had no appetites. Phoebe’s omelets lay untouched. Even Ela’s corn bread failed to entice them.
Meg sipped strong, hot coffee and brooded. “The tone of that text was way too frightening. ‘One hour or else.’ Why would Cory agree to meet someone who was threatening harm?”
“Because he’s a scared kid who doesn’t know who to trust.” Jake closed a hand over hers.
“Are you saying that he’d go to someone who threatened him, but he wouldn’t confide in his own sister?”
Jake touched a finger to her lips. “I’m saying that we don’t know the nature of this threat. Maybe Cory thought doing what he was told was better than the alternative.”
“Why couldn’t he have opened up to someone? If not to me, then to someone here? Can’t he tell the difference between someone who loves him and someone who means him harm?”
Jake’s tone was unusually gentle. “Would any of us have known the difference at the age of seven?”
The others around the table remained silent.
Meg shook her head. “But why? What would make a little boy go to the very person who was threatening him?”
The others shrugged.
“Desperation?” Sierra pushed aside her plate. “Before coming here and finding out what family and love really mean, I trusted someone who threatened me.”
Beside her, Josh closed a hand over hers and the two of them stared into one another’s eyes.
“I trusted someone, too.” Cheyenne’s voice was hushed. “Someone who looked normal and even insinuated himself into my family. But he turned out to be evil and twisted.”
Meg looked at the two young women with new respect. “And you both survived.”
Cheyenne nodded. “And so will Cory. You’ll see, Meg. This family doesn’t give up on people. We’ll all fight to get him back and to keep him safe.”
Meg felt those damned tears again and had to blink hard to hold them at bay.
“Thank you. That means the world to me.” She cleared her throat of the lump that was threatening to choke her. “I phoned the detective agency in D.C. that our firm often uses on special, hard-to-resolve cases. They’re considered the best in the business. They’re sending a couple of operatives via private plane.”
Cole arched a brow. “That has to be pretty pricey.”
“I don’t care about their fee.” Meg glanced around at the others. “They’re worth every cent. I’ve never known them to fail when we needed quick, efficient information on impossible situations.”
Big Jim looked at her. “You don’t trust Chief Fletcher and the state boys?”
“I do trust them, Big Jim. But they have to play by certain rules. I’ve learned, when dealing with criminal cases, that while the authorities’ hands are tied, private detective agencies are free to gather intelligence without those legal restraints. That can make a huge difference, since criminals never play by the rules.”
“You’ve got a point, young lady.” Big Jim drained his coffee and shoved away from the table. “I think as we go about our chores, we should keep our eyes and ears open. And maybe, if we’re lucky, we won’t need the police or private detectives. Maybe Cory will just come back to us before the day is over.”
“From your lips, Dad.” Cole paused to squeeze Meg’s shoulder. Leaning close he murmured, “Just remember that all of us here know what you’re going through, Meg. We’ve been where you are now.”
At his quiet words, the first tears slid from beneath her lids and rolled down her cheek.
Mortified, she brushed it aside and took several deep, calming breaths. She was not going to dissolve into a puddle of helplessness. Not while Cory was somewhere out there, in need of her strength.
Not when she was with a family that had seen someone they loved disappear without a trace. A strong, determined family that continued to survive and stand tall despite their unspeakable heartache.
How could she do less?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Meg saw Jake field a phone call and shake his head before pausing to nod. As she walked closer she could hear him.
“Of course I’ll come right over, Mel. Don’t you worry.”
He glanced at her before saying, “Sorry. A rancher with an emergency. I’m the only vet in the area, and he’s worried sick.”
“You have to go, Jake.” She caught his hand. “Life doesn’t stop just because we have something awful happening.” She took a breath. “I’m sure you and your family had to learn that painful fact the hard way.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a smile. “Thanks for understanding. I won’t be gone long. As soon as I get back, I’ll join Pa and Big Jim and my brothers out in the pastures.”
She matched her steps to his as he started toward his truck. “I’m not staying here, Jake. You can drop me at my ranch.”
“I don’t think you ought to be there alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” She glanced at her watch. “Raven said the plane will be putting down shortly. He and his operatives will be at my ranch in the next hour or two. That will give me time to ride up to the high country and talk to Yancy.”
“He already said there’s no trace of Cory up there.”
“I know. But he may know something we’ve overlooked. He’s been my dad’s foreman for a while now.”
Jake nodded. “You’re right. Okay. I’ll let my family know we’re leaving.”
A short time later, as Jake pulled his truck alongside the porch at Meg’s ranch, he called, “Keep your phone close. Call me the minute you hear anything.”
“I will.”
He watched her climb the porch steps before putting the truck in gear. He knew she was right. Life didn’t stop during times of trouble. He had a job to do, and he had no choice but to leave her. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Yancy Jessup saw Meg’s horse approaching and rode across the field to meet her. In his eyes was a look of understanding.
He lifted his hat in a courtly greeting. “Any word on Cory, ma’am?”
“Nothing. I was hoping you might have thought of something that we’ve overlooked.”
The old cowboy shook his head sadly. “Sorry, ma’am. I don’t claim to know much about the lad. He stuck close to his ma and Porter. Struck me as a good boy, though. Not one to go off and leave folks worried about his whereabouts.”
“That’s my thinking, too, Yancy. I hope you and your wranglers will keep an eye out for him. He…” Her voice trembled slightly and she was forced to swallow before saying, “He’s had a lot of things happen to him in his young life. He’s a very special little boy.”
“Yes, ma’am. He is. We’ll be extra careful to watch for him. And you know I’ll call you if I should see or hear anything at all.”
“Thanks, Yancy.”
She rode home with the weight of the world heavy on her shoulders.
Will Raven had been a Navy SEAL, and the majority of his operatives had been Special Ops or Secret Serv
ice. Now working in the private sector, they had mastered the art of following a trail that was all but invisible to most professionals. No clue was too small or insignificant to ignore. Raven often boasted that when he finished with a suspect, he and his men would know the suspect better than his own mother did.
These private detectives had become, out of necessity, masters of disguise. In the city, they blended in with all the other professionals, clad in nondescript business suits and mirrored sunglasses.
Today they wore faded denims and plaid shirts and dusty boots, faces unshaven, giving them the look of wranglers fresh off the range.
Meg wasn’t fooled by the clothes or the laid-back poses. While she and Raven talked quietly in the kitchen, there was a sharp-eyed look to his companions as they moved around the property and buildings that told her they were already committing every inch of her ranch to memory.
“Is this the boy?” Raven studied the framed photo Meg was holding out to him.
“This is the most recent photo of Cory. Sierra Conway is a professional photographer. She took it yesterday morning, in the barn.”
It showed Cory, flushed and happy, surrounded by Honey and her puppies. In his hands was Trouble, the runt of the litter.
Raven removed his cell phone and snapped a picture of the photo before sending it to his operatives’ phones.
“And this,” Meg added, “was in Cory’s room. It’s a picture of his mother.”
“Who’s the boy with her?” Raven asked.
“A boy named Blain that Cory claims was in the foster-care system with her.”
Raven followed the same routine, snapping a picture of the photo and sending it to the phones of all his operatives before he looked up. “Okay. Tell me about this.”
Meg glanced at the photo of Cory’s mother and Blain when they’d been two young, scruffy teens. “I don’t know where they’re from. Cory never said. He may not even know where his mother was born, or where she grew up. Apparently these two were traveling together when they arrived in Paintbrush, hoping to find work.”