Peek-A-Boo Protector

by Rita Herron

  You are pathetic, Sam. He’s not interested in you personally.

  She skimmed the first card, one Honey had sent from Memphis where she and Dwayne had taken a side trip.

  Hi, Sam,

  Dwayne and I visited Graceland today. It was so awesome. I saw Elvis’s house and his costumes, and then we went line dancing! Wish you were here!

  From there, Honey had gone to Montgomery, Alabama.

  Sam, We ran out of money here, so decided to stay a while. I got a waitressing job at a place called Billy Bob’s Barbeque. It’s a dive, but there’s a hot guy who works there. Dwayne wants us to come back to Butterville. But I’m on my way to Dallas just as soon as I save up some money, with him or without him.

  You and I should have taken a road trip long ago. It’s amazing!

  A few weeks later, Honey had sent a card from Shreveport, Louisiana.

  Hi, Sam! Well, I left Montgomery and Randy, the hot guy I’d met at Billy Bob’s, and I stopped in Shreveport. I’m going to visit New Orleans before I go on to Dallas. I can’t believe there’s a big old world out here and we haven’t seen any of it!

  Sam flipped to the next one.

  Hi, Sam. You won’t believe it but I’m in Dallas, and I went to watch the cheerleaders today! My God, it was so wonderful. I’m signing up for tryouts and pray I make it.

  I also have other news. I met this sexy guy, and I’m in love! Yes, me, Honey Dawson, I’m actually in love. I think he’s the one, Sam. I really do.

  Maybe you’ll get to see me on TV with the cheerleaders one day and in a wedding gown!

  Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Honey,” Sam whispered. “What went wrong? You sounded so excited, like you were on top of the world.”

  But shortly after that the postcards had stopped coming.

  Exhaustion and the tension of the day were wearing on her. She placed the postcards on her nightstand and turned out the light. Emmie would probably wake early, and she needed to get some sleep.

  Her muscles felt sore from where the car had rammed into her and jerked her around. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the memory.

  But downstairs, she heard John’s footfalls as he walked around. He’d promised to protect her and Emmie and find out what happened to Honey.

  And she trusted and believed him.

  But he wasn’t convinced that the baby was Honey’s child.

  Sam knew Emmie belonged to Honey though; she felt it in her bones when she held the baby.

  She rolled sideways and closed her eyes, but she couldn’t fall asleep for wondering where Honey was, if she was somewhere cold and alone and hurt, fighting for her life so she could come back to her baby.

  RUNNING ON LITTLE TO NO sleep, the next morning John made coffee, then phoned the Butterville Inn. Doris, the owner, answered in her usual cheerful voice.

  “Morning, Doris, it’s Chief Wise.”

  “What can I do for you, Chief?”

  “I was wondering if you have any strangers who registered at the inn last night or the night before.”

  “How come?”

  He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. The downside of a small town was that everyone knew everyone else’s business. Of course, that also worked in his favor sometimes.

  “A woman was attacked at Samantha Corley’s house night before last. Judging from the prints and blood I found, I believe it was Honey Dawson.”

  “Honey Dawson, oh my word. Has that little hussy come back to town?”

  “Doris,” John said tightly. “I believe she’s hurt, in trouble, she may even be dead. I’m trying to find her and the man who attacked her.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry, John. It’s just that Honey broke my son Andrew’s heart years ago. I thought he’d never get over it.”

  Honey had broken a lot of hearts. “Just tell me about your guest list.”

  “Right.” He heard the rustling of pages. “I can’t think of anyone suspicious, John. I’ve got four families here now, all seem like nice folks with children. You know they come to town to tour Butterville Babyland General.”

  He rolled his eyes. “No one traveling alone then?”

  “No, not right now. But I’ll let you know if someone strange comes in.” She paused. “And John, I hope you find Honey. I didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to see her harmed.”

  “I know that,” John said. The little woman was as sweet as pie and had arthritis so bad she walked with a cane. No way she could hurt anyone.

  But her comment made him wonder if there might be someone else in town who harbored a grudge against Honey. Maybe someone who’d seen her drive back into town or known she was coming and didn’t want her back.

  Maybe Andrew?

  And Sam had mentioned Dwayne Hicks. He needed to speak to both of them.

  Sam came down the steps already dressed with the baby in her arms, and he nodded good morning. She offered him a tired smile, but the dark smudges beneath her eyes told him she hadn’t slept any better than he had.

  Emmie whimpered, and Sam grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator, then juggled the baby while she reached for a pot.

  He urged her to sit down, took the pot, filled it half full with water and set the bottle inside. Then he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her. Her gaze met his and that tingle of awareness once again rippled through him. The temptation to reach out and soothe her seized him so strongly that he gripped his coffee in both hands.

  As soon as the water warmed, he handed the bottle to her, and she tested the temperature on her arm. “Perfect.”

  Emmie latched onto it immediately, her suckling noises filling the tense silence.

  Finally he dragged his gaze away from the homey sight of Sam feeding the child and forced himself back to the job. “I phoned the Butterville Inn, but Doris claims that she hasn’t had any male strangers register in the last two days. I want to check the two motels on the outside of town today and talk to Dwayne Hicks, and Andrew Banning.”

  “Andrew?”

  “Doris said Honey broke his heart a while back.”

  “Andrew wouldn’t hurt her.” She glanced at the baby. “He moved on and seems happy. He told me once that Honey leaving him was the best thing that happened to him. It made him see DeDe in a new light.”

  He frowned. “Then let’s talk to Dwayne.”

  “You want me to go with you?” Sam asked.

  “There’s no way I’m leaving you and Emmie alone until this guy is caught.”

  An odd look crossed Sam’s face, then she stood. “All right. Let me pack the diaper bag.” Emmie finished the bottle, and Sam pushed the baby toward him. “Will you hold her while I get ready?”

  He gave a clipped nod, although holding the child scared the bejeebies out of him. What if he dropped her?

  “For heaven’s sake, she’s not going to bite you, John,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “Just prop her on your shoulder and pat her back. She needs to burp now that she’s eaten.”

  John juggled the baby and managed to fit her against his chest, awkwardly wrapping the fuzzy pink blanket around her. He patted her back gently, terrified he’d hurt her. But a warmth spread through him as she tugged at his collar with her tiny fist. The little thing weighed next to nothing and felt oddly…sweet against him.

  Suddenly, she arched her back and let out a loud belch. He grimaced as half the milk she’d just eaten spewed onto his shoulder.

  Damn. “Sam!”

  Sam rushed in with the diaper bag on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s sick,” he growled. “Should we take her to the hospital?”

  Sam chuckled. “She’s fine. Sometimes babies just spit up a little after they eat.”

  “A little?” He peered at the mess, his stomach turning. “It looks like a gallon.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a wimp,” Sam said, then reached in the bag, pulled out a cloth diaper and dabbed his shirt. “It’ll wash out.”

  He wrinkled his nose.
“Yeah, but it stinks.”

  Her face broke into a full-fledged grin and then she burst into laughter.

  “It’s not funny, Sam. How am I supposed to question suspects when I smell like…baby throw-up?”

  “We’ll stop by your place and you can change shirts,” she suggested. “Either that or take that one off and I’ll use some spot remover.”

  The idea of undressing in front of Sam seemed appealing, but not with the baby present. “We’ll stop by my house.”

  Sam handed him a photo of Honey. “I thought we might show this picture around.”

  “Good idea.” He jammed the photo in the pocket of his jacket.

  It took them twenty more minutes to transfer the car seat into his squad car, then fifteen to stop by his house and for him to change. Emmie had fallen asleep so Sam waited in the car with her until he returned.

  First, he drove to the hotel near town known to house tourists during the height of their tourist season. Sam stayed in the car with Emmie while he jogged inside.

  The man at the desk regarded him with narrowed eyes as he explained the situation. “Can you check your list and see if any men traveling alone checked in last night or the night before?”

  He consulted his listings. “No, don’t see any males alone,” he said. “Right now we only have a few rooms rented. Five to families, the other five to women traveling with a church group.”

  John flashed Honey’s picture. “How about a woman who might have been alone? This woman? Her name is Honey Dawson. She used to live around here and could have been hurt.”

  He tapped his knuckles on the counter. “No, no one like that. I’m sorry, Chief Wise.”

  John clicked his teeth. “Well, if you see anyone or anything suspicious, please give me a call. If this woman is still alive, she may be in grave danger.”

  The hotel attendant agreed, and John rushed back outside. “No luck there. Let’s try the truck stop near the highway.”

  Emmie had fallen asleep, and Sam reached back to tuck the blanket more securely around her. They drove in silence to the motel. Again, Sam waited inside the car.

  Wind rustled the trees as he walked up to the entrance to the dive. Two eighteen-wheelers were parked in front, the drivers, two beefy men perched at the breakfast bar eating and drinking coffee.

  John introduced himself. “Where are you guys heading?”

  “I’m on my way to Alabama with a load,” the beefier one answered. “Just pulled in this morning for a bite to eat.”

  “How about you?” John asked the older man.

  “I wanted to keep driving, but my wife said we have to stop here. She’s determined to buy one of those danged dolls for our little girl.”

  A rail-thin woman with bleached blond hair rolled in, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. “You damn right I do,” she said. “Kristi’s been begging for one for two years now, and I’m going to surprise her for her birthday.”

  John sighed. This was a dead end. Still, he flashed Honey’s picture. No one recognized it, but they all agreed to keep their eyes open.

  John strode to the counter and greeted a heavyset woman with red curly hair and bright blue eye shadow. “What can I do for you, Chief?”

  He explained about Honey’s disappearance and flashed Honey’s picture. “Any strangers in here the last two nights?”

  “Wow, that girl is a looker.” She jammed a pencil in her bird nest hairdo. “I haven’t seen her. It’s been dead as doornails around here. But it’ll pick up in a couple of weeks and we’ll be overflowing.”

  John bit back a remark, knowing the locals depended on the revenue from the upcoming Butterbean doll festival.

  “Well, call me if you see her or any strange males show up.”

  She agreed and he went back outside to Sam.

  “Sorry, no luck there.” He started the engine. “Let’s go talk to Dwayne.”

  “I just hope he knows something,” Sam said as a gust of wind picked up and the skies darkened. “The weatherman is predicting that we’re in for bad weather, John. If Honey is alone and hurt in the woods, we need to hurry.”

  John gritted his teeth. Sam was right. If the temperature dropped, the mountains would be freezing. And that would be dangerous, maybe even deadly, for an injured woman.

  SAM STRUGGLED TO BE OPTIMISTIC, but the darkening skies and falling temperatures added to her anxiety. She twisted her hands in her lap as John drove to Dwayne’s. Hopefully he hadn’t already left for work, but if so, they could catch him at the garage. He was the best mechanic in town.

  She sighed in relief when she spotted his red pickup in the drive.

  “I want to go in this time,” Sam said.

  “All right, but let me ask the questions, Sam.”

  She reached over and laid her hand on his. “John, maybe I should talk to him. Dwayne might be more willing to open up if he thinks you aren’t here to accuse him of something.”

  He studied her for a long moment but finally conceded with a nod. “But if I think he’s lying or holding back, I will come down on him, Sam. I don’t care if you guys were friends.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt Honey,” Sam said. “I know it. But maybe she contacted him for help, even confided who Emmie’s father was.”

  She climbed out, scooped up the little girl and cradled her in the blanket as they walked up to Dwayne’s mobile home.

  Sally, Dwayne’s wife, answered the door with a scowl. “Sam? Chief Wise? What are you doing here?”

  “Sally,” Sam said with a tentative smile, “we need to come in and talk to Dwayne.”

  “Is Dwayne in some kind of trouble?” Sally asked warily.

  “No, of course not,” Sam said. “But we still need to talk to him.”

  Sally glanced at the baby with a scowl, but gestured for them to enter, then yelled for Dwayne. He appeared a moment later wearing a gray pair of work coveralls with his name embroidered on the pocket.

  “Sam?” he said in surprise, then frowned when he saw John. “Chief Wise, what are you doing here?”

  “We came to talk to you about Honey Dawson,” Sam said.

  A tick jumped in Dwayne’s jaw. “What about Honey? Did something happen to her?”

  “Why would you ask that?” John asked.

  Dwayne jammed his hands in his pockets. “Why else would you be here? Is she all right, Sam? Did something bad happen to her?”

  Sam glanced at John, then back at Dwayne. His wife moved up beside him and slid her hand to his arm.

  “I don’t know, Dwayne. That’s why we’re here.” The baby whimpered, and Sam jiggled her in her arms. “The night before last Honey left this baby at my house. When I got home, there was blood on the floor, but Honey was gone. It looked as if someone dragged her out the back door.”

  Dwayne paled, and stumbled over to the sofa and sat down. His wife glared at them, then joined him and took his hand. “I’m sure she’s okay, Dwayne. You know Honey. She always comes out on top.”

  Sam cleared her throat. Obviously Dwayne still cared about Honey. “Dwayne, have you heard anything from Honey lately? Did she write you or call you?”

  His panicked gaze shot to his wife and guilt riddled his face. “She called a while back, maybe two or three weeks ago.”

  “What did she say?” John asked.

  Dwayne gripped his wife’s hand. “Just that she might be coming back to town.”

  Sally dug her nails into Dwayne’s arms. “Dwayne hasn’t seen her, Chief.”

  “I haven’t,” Dwayne said, his jaw ticking again. “I promised Sally I wouldn’t.”

  John cleared his throat. “How about you, Sally? You obviously didn’t want your husband meeting up with an old girlfriend, did you?”

  She lurched up, her red-painted lips pressed in a firm line. “I don’t like your implication, Chief.”

  Sam spoke up. “Sally, did you hear from Honey or see her?”

  “No,” Sally said emphatically as she glanced at the baby again.


  “Is that baby Honey’s?” Dwayne blurted.

  Sam started to answer, but John cut her off. “We don’t know,” John said. “We’re running DNA to find out.”

  A sour look twisted Sally’s thin face. “She probably stole the baby. You know Honey was always trouble.”

  “Honey would never take a child unless she thought the baby was in danger,” Sam said. The realization added another possible avenue for them to explore. She believed the baby was Honey’s, but if not, maybe she had discovered the mother or father was abusing the child and wanted to save her.

  No. The baby looked too much like Honey not to be hers.

  Still, they needed to find Honey to get some answers.

  “Where were you both the night before last?” John asked.

  Sally stroked Dwayne’s arm. “We were here together.”

  John gave Dwayne a pointed look. “Is that right?”

  Dwayne nodded, but his eyes darted away nervously.

  Sam studied Dwayne’s body language. There was something he wasn’t telling them, something he didn’t want to say in front of his wife.

  They needed to get him alone.

  “Thanks for your time,” John said. “And if you think of anything that could help or if you hear from Honey, let me know.”

  “Of course,” Dwayne said.

  Sam and John stepped outside, hesitating on the front steps as the sound of Dwayne’s and Sally’s voices rose in anger.

  “Dwayne, did you see Honey?” Sally said in a shrill tone.

  “No,” Dwayne muttered in a shaky voice, “I promised you I wouldn’t.”

  “What about that baby, Dwayne?” Sally screeched. “Is that baby yours and Honey’s?”

  Chapter Seven

  Sam craned her head to hear Dwayne’s response to Sally’s question. Had Dwayne met Honey somewhere and hooked up with her again?

  Was Emmie Dwayne’s child?

  “Sally,” Dwayne said in an almost patronizing voice, “you know that I would never cheat on you.”

  “But you still love her, you always have,” Sally said in disgust. “I don’t know what it is about that woman. She’s like the Pied Piper except instead of children following behind her, it’s men.”