by Elle James
While Aubrey took Mrs. Blair’s vitals and recorded them in her chart, she asked her how she’d been feeling and her pain levels. When they were done, she packed up her tools.
“Matthew was my prize pupil. Not only was he attentive and curious, he helped one of my other students pass my class.”
“How did he do that?” Aubrey asked.
“He tutored him after school.”
Matt’s lips twitched. “I threatened to hurt him if he told anyone that I was really a nice guy. I had a reputation to uphold as the meanest bad boy in town.”
The kettle built up steam and let out a shrill whistle.
Mrs. Blair started to get up.
“Sit. I’ve got this,” Matt said.
“When did you learn to be handy in the kitchen?” his old history teacher asked.
“In the Marine Corps,” Matt said. “I had to figure out how to turn on the stove or starve. Chow hall food gets old real quick.”
“So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Mrs. Blair asked.
“We have to find a missing child,” Matt answered.
Aubrey stood behind Mrs. Blair, shaking her head.
“Missing child?” the older woman looked from Aubrey to Matt and back. “What missing child?”
“Now, Mrs. Blair, you don’t have to worry about this. We’re working on it, as is the sheriff’s department.” Aubrey glared at Matt. “Why did you say anything?”
“Why shouldn’t he?” Mrs. Blair demanded. “I would think everyone in the county should be out looking for the missing child.” The older woman snagged Aubrey’s arm. “Sit. Spill. Maybe I can help.”
“How can you help?” Aubrey asked. “You can barely walk.”
“I have a brain, don’t I?” Mrs. Blair tapped her knuckles to the side of her head. “Last I knew, there wasn’t a thing wrong with my mind. Tell me what’s going on. If you don’t, I’ll hobble out to my car and drive myself into town and ask the sheriff.”
“You can’t drive yet. The doctor hasn’t given you clearance to do so.”
“My driver’s license is still good. Nothing in the driver’s manual says the doctor trumps the driver’s license.” She raised a challenging white brow. “Are you going to tell me, or am I going for a drive?”
Aubrey sighed and took the seat next to Mrs. Blair. Minutes later, she’d given the woman the digest version of what had happened over the past twenty-four hours.
Her first comment was, “You mean you and my Matt just met?”
“That’s what you got out of all that?”
“You can’t fault an old woman for thinking of the romantic element to this plot.” Mrs. Blair shook her head. “From what I get out of all that is that you think the people who killed the mother and took Isabella might be hiding out somewhere in the vicinity of Whiskey Gulch.”
Aubrey nodded. “The sheriff set up roadblocks and checkpoints on all roads leading out of Whiskey Gulch. They didn’t have anyone come through who appeared to have kidnapped a child.”
“That doesn’t mean they didn’t get through, having hidden the girl in their trunk or a box or something,” Mrs. Blair said.
“True,” Aubrey said. “But we think they might be lying low until the heat cools and they can arrange to transport or conduct their trade.”
“So, what have you done to locate their hideout?” Mrs. Blair asked, all business now.
“The sheriff is checking into all empty warehouses, houses, storage units in the area,” Aubrey said. “He had volunteers out combing through the field and woods where the girl disappeared for clues about who might have taken her and where they might be keeping her hidden.”
“I have a friend with connections in the Hispanic community with his ear to the ground, asking his sources for possible leads,” Matt said.
“The longer she’s missing, the more likely she won’t be found.”
Aubrey’s breath lodged in her throat, threatening to choke her.
“What?” Mrs. Blair reached out to cover Aubrey’s hand with hers. “You have to be realistic.”
“We’re going to find Isabella,” Aubrey said. “We have to.”
“This is personal, isn’t it?” Mrs. Blair patted Aubrey’s hand. “Okay, then, what are we going to do to find her?”
“Do you know any place in the county or surrounding counties where someone might hide a child?” Matt asked. “It might have to be big enough to hide their truck, trailer and four-wheelers, as well.”
“Have they checked that old horse barn off the farm-to-market road west of town? They used to raise racehorses until they lost all their money and the bank foreclosed on them.”
Matt pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll ask the sheriff if they’ve checked it out.” He texted the information to the sheriff. “Anything else you can think of?
Mrs. Blair drummed her fingers on the table, her gaze on the wall in front of her, her brow dented in concentration. “What about that old machine shop that used to make air compressor parts? They closed down several years ago, but as far as I know, the building is still there and unoccupied.”
“We really should be going, anyway,” Aubrey said. “You need rest. You’ve had an exciting hour and you’re still recovering.”
“Oh, pooh on that. This is the most excitement I’ve had in years. I’m sorry the little girl was lost, but I’d love to help find her. If I think of any other places, I’ll let you know.” She held out her hand. “Give me your cell phone number. I’ve lived in the area all my life. I think I’ve been on every road there is when my husband took me hunting. In my much younger days. As I think of all the possible places, I’ll send you a list of those sites. When you find the girl, let me know. I’ll have her in my thoughts.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Blair,” Aubrey said. “Don’t let this worry you too much. Believe me when I say, we’re looking, and we won’t give up until we find Isabella and reunite her with her baby sister.”
Mrs. Blair rose from her chair.
Aubrey pushed the older woman’s walker into her hands before turning toward the front of the house. “Don’t overdo it, Mrs. B. I have another caregiver coming out for the rest of the week. I’m taking time off to help find the little girl. They’ll take good care of you while I’m gone.”
“Can’t you just take care of me and leave the others to your counterparts?” Mrs. Blair asked. “I’ll miss our chats. You’re the only human contact I get.”
“I promise to come back as soon as we find Isabella. I just can’t do my job when I’m worried about that little girl.” Aubrey touched Mrs. Blair’s hand. “Besides, you’re getting around better each day. You’ll be driving yourself into town to volunteer and rejoin the community. Don’t you have some friends from when you taught school?”
The older woman nodded. “Yes. But they’re old. I need someone with more stimulating conversation. People who like to have fun and an occasional adventure.”
Aubrey smiled. “You’ll find that. Work that hip. I’ll be back to help after we find Isabella.”
“Are you sure you’re not setting yourself up for disappointment?” Mrs. Blair asked. “Coyotes are good at hiding, sometimes in plain sight.”
Her jaw firming, Aubrey shook her head. “We’ll find her.”
“Does this have to do with the child you lost?” Mrs. Blair asked, her voice softer.
Aubrey gasped. “How did you know about Katie?”
“I know how to search the internet for all kinds of information.” She squeezed Aubrey’s hand. “I also know what it’s like to lose a child.”
“You do?” Aubrey asked. She’d been seeing this woman for weeks and didn’t know this about her.
Mrs. Blair nodded. “I lost my son in a drowning accident on a fishing trip. He was seventeen. He dived down to free the anchor from the brush it got tangled up in. M
y husband and I waited for him to come up. He never did.”
“Oh, Mrs. Blair.” Aubrey hugged the woman, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“My husband and I blamed ourselves and second-guessed everything we could have done. But nothing we said or did could bring back our son.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “That was a long time ago, but it feels like yesterday.” Mrs. Blair forced a smile to her face. “Look at me, making you sad when you needed cheering up.” She leaned on her walker. “You two need to get out of here and find that child. She needs you more than I do. I’m on the mend and just around the corner from the freedom to drive again.” She waved toward the door. “Go. And if I think of another place to look, I’ll text you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Blair,” Matt said. “It’s been great seeing you. I’ll be back to visit.”
“Now that you know where I live and that I’m still alive?” She laughed. “You don’t have to waste your time with an old lady like me. Not when you have a lovely young woman here to keep you company.” She winked at Aubrey.
Aubrey’s cheeks heated. “We’re not dating.”
“No?” Mrs. Blair’s eyebrows rose. “Well, you should. You seem right for each other.”
Matt chuckled. “Gave up teaching history for a new career in matchmaking, did you?”
The older woman shrugged. “Gotta have something to do. I don’t have a classroom full of hellions to keep me entertained.”
Matt hugged her. “Nevertheless, I’m sure we could have some pretty heated political debates. I’ll be back.”
She hugged him with one arm, holding on to her walker with the other. “You’re a good man, little Matthew Hennessey. I knew you were my favorite student for a reason. You have a big heart. Your classmates didn’t see that. I did.”
Mrs. Blair walked with them to the door, then looked up suddenly, as if remembering something. “You might also check with Rodney Morrison.”
“The Realtor?” Matt asked.
She nodded. “If he’s doing his job, he knows all the vacant residential and commercial properties in the area. They’d be potential listings. He’s kinda full of himself, but talk to him.”
Chapter Ten
Even after all those years, Mrs. Blair was just as sassy as ever. That was why he’d gotten along with her so well. She hadn’t treated him as a child. More as an equal. She’d made his high school years much more tolerable.
Matt led the way out to Aubrey’s Jeep and held the door while she climbed in.
Aubrey waited until he got in before she said, “So, you weren’t such a bad boy as you thought you were back in high school, were you?” She shot him a look, cocking an eyebrow.
“I was bad enough to keep people at a distance, if I wanted to.” He grinned. “And don’t let ol’ Mrs. Blair fool you. She was no saint. Her opinions were radical. She just didn’t share them with many.”
“And she shared them with you?”
He nodded. “Often. We had many a debate, after school.”
“Are we going to check out the places she suggested?” Aubrey asked, shifting the Jeep into gear.
“We can bring it up to the sheriff. I don’t feel comfortable poking around abandoned buildings with you when the guys who shot up your place might be there with fully loaded semiautomatic weapons.”
“You have a good point.” Aubrey shivered. “I don’t know how you military guys can go into battle with bullets flying all around you.”
“We did what we had to,” Matt said, staring out the front windshield, images of past battles flooding his memories. “We didn’t have anyone else to go in for us.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t think of Mr. Morrison when he ran into us at the diner.”
Matt’s lip curled. “It was all I could do to tolerate him for more than the minute he interrupted our breakfast.”
“He is a bit pushy,” Aubrey said. “Do you think he’d heard about the trouble at your mother’s house?”
“It’s hard to say. He didn’t mention it, but why single you out today, of all days?”
“Seems strange.” Aubrey pulled out onto the highway and drove toward town. “That’s the first time he’s approached me since I came to Whiskey Gulch.”
“His timing could be lousy, or he knew about the attack this morning, but didn’t say anything.” Matt pulled out his cell phone and keyed a text message to Sheriff Richards.
“Who are you texting?” Aubrey asked.
“The sheriff. I’m passing on the sites Mrs. Blair suggested.”
“Good. I’d rather he went out there with his deputies than us.”
After he’d sent the message, his cell phone vibrated in his hand. Surely, the sheriff hadn’t responded so quickly. He checked the incoming messages.
He had a cryptic note from Juan Salazar.
Old barn Glen and Hatcher Road junction fifteen minutes
“What is it?” Aubrey asked.
“Message from Juan. He wants us to go to the old barn at the junction of Glen and Hatcher Road.”
Aubrey shook her head. “I don’t know where that is.”
“The turnoff for Hatcher is about a mile before you get to town.”
“Tell me when we get close.” She leaned toward the steering wheel, staring closely at the road in front of her, a frown denting her brow.
“Anyone tell you that you’re cute when you frown?”
She shot a glance his way, her cheeks blossoming with color. “No.”
“Well, you are.” He faced the road. “Turn at the next road to your left. That’s Hatcher.”
Aubrey slowed the Jeep and took the turn onto Hatcher Road.
“The junction is about a mile from the main highway. I used to ride my motorcycle all over the county. It kept me from going stir-crazy.”
“And yet, you returned to Whiskey Gulch?” Aubrey’s brow twisted. “Why?”
Matt had asked himself the same question more than once. “I guess, it was the only home I ever knew. Once I got past the awkward teenage years, I realized part of the problems I had was me. I ran around with a chip on my shoulder, daring anyone to knock it off.”
“Because you didn’t have a father?”
He nodded. “They called me a bastard child. It made me mad. My mother didn’t deserve the disdain others in the community showed her. She was a good person. No matter how ugly others were to her, she always showed kindness.”
“She was the better person.” Aubrey nodded toward the road ahead. “Is that the old barn?”
Matt nodded. “I don’t see his truck. He might have parked around the back of the building. Circle to the rear.”
Aubrey pulled off the road onto a rutted path, leading to the barn. “I hope he doesn’t expect us to go inside. That barn looks like a big wind will knock it over.”
Matt nodded. The structure leaned. Many of the wood slats had long since rotted or were missing. The corrugated metal roof was missing several panels.
Aubrey drove the Jeep around the side of the building, bumping over the rough ground until she turned the corner.
Juan’s beat-up old pickup was parked beside the building.
“You might want to stay in the Jeep. If anything happens, get out of here and go straight for the sheriff’s office in town.”
Aubrey frowned. “You think this is a setup?”
“No,” he said. “I trust Juan. But after last night, I don’t trust what I can’t see. We could be watched, or someone could have followed us, though I didn’t see anyone behind us as we turned off the highway.”
“I’d rather go in with you.”
Juan appeared at the door to the barn and beckoned them with a wave of his hand. Then he disappeared back into the shadowy structure.
“I’m going in,” Matt said. He stuck his handgun in the pocket of his
leather jacket and got out of the Jeep.
Aubrey met him at the front of the vehicle. “I’m going with you.”
He hesitated. “I don’t know if he’ll be open with me if you come along.”
“If it’s a problem, I’ll leave, and he can have you all to himself.” She started for the barn. “Come on.”
“For the record, I don’t like this. You’re putting yourself at risk.”
“And so are you.” She took his hand. “Let’s do this together.”
Against his better judgment, he walked with her into the darkness of the barn.
“Back here,” Juan called out.
Matt pushed Aubrey behind him and advanced toward Juan’s voice, moving slowly until his sight adjusted to the dim interior of the barn.
Rays of light knifed through missing boards, making the darkness even gloomier by contrast.
Matt shaded his eyes as he passed through the sun’s rays and back into the shadows.
“Are you sure this barn isn’t going to fall down on us?” Matt asked.
“You know as well as I do that this barn has been leaning for years. It will stand until we complete our business here.”
Matt stopped in front of Juan and held out his hand.
Juan shook it, his brow furrowed in a worried frown. “My people in the barrio are scared,” he said. “When I asked around about missing children, they stopped talking, went into their homes and closed the door in my face.”
“I hope I haven’t put you in danger.”
“I’m afraid. For my family. Whoever is behind the kidnapping has powerful connections.”
“What kind of connections?” Matt asked.
“Cartel connections,” Juan said. “Los Zetas, based in Nuevo Laredo, has fingers reaching all the way up here in Whiskey Gulch. They’re heavy into drug trafficking, human trafficking and gunrunning.”
Matt’s jaw tightened. “Thus the heavily armed men who tried to kill us with machine guns last night.”
“They have a faction here. This area is a waypoint in their human trafficking operation. It’s far enough from the border that the Customs and Border Patrol are fewer in this area and they’ve established drop spots to transfer their ‘cargo’ for further transport to buyers. There are people around here who help them in their efforts. Some who are paid to help, others who are blackmailed into helping. It’s help or their families suffer. Most were afraid to speak to me for fear their children would be stolen and forced into the sex trade.”