by Rita Herron
“I will.”
Then he turned to Mason. “You’ll let me know who killed her?”
Mason nodded, then gestured to Cara that it was time to leave. She followed him out to the car, her heart aching for Alfredo. He had finally gotten the means to take care of the woman he loved but now he’d lost her to death.
Her baby chose that moment to kick, reminding her that her son’s father was only a few feet away, and that she’d never given him the choice of whether he wanted to be a part of their child’s life.
She’d been selfish in thinking only of her own hurt feelings. But at the time, she’d been certain he would have walked away.
Now she didn’t know.
“He appears genuinely upset,” Mason said as they settled in the car.
Cara winced as the baby pressed on her bladder. “I told you he wouldn’t kill her. He doesn’t have it in him to do what that killer did to Nellie.”
“What about the adoptive couple?” Mason asked. “You heard Alfredo say he wanted her and the baby. What if Nellie went to the couple and asked them to forfeit the adoption?”
Cara frowned. “She knew it was final when she signed the papers.”
Mason headed down the graveled road. “Maybe she did, but that doesn’t mean her emotions didn’t drive her to plead for her baby back.”
Cara’s throat tightened. “I suppose it’s possible.” In fact, sometimes mothers regretted their decision and later tried to back out of adoptions. But there was a window of time that allowed for that, and it had passed.
“The last time I saw Nellie she seemed okay with her decision,” she said. “In fact, I had convinced her to attend school and she’d signed up for cosmetology classes. She seemed excited about it.”
“We have to talk to the adoptive parents,” Mason said. “See if she contacted them.”
Cara twisted her hands in her lap. She hated to upset the couple who’d adopted the little girl, but her clinic had been broken into. And if killing Nellie had been about the baby, she needed to make sure the child was safe.
“All right, they live in San Antonio. Do you want me to call them?”
“No,” Mason said. “Like I said earlier, I want the element of surprise on our side.”
Cara jerked her head toward him. “You think one of them killed Nellie?”
Mason shrugged. “I’m just trying to eliminate the obvious suspects at this point. The baby’s real father and adoptive parents are closest to the case.”
Cara smoothed down a wrinkle in her shirt, then handed Mason the address for the Davidson family and watched him program it into his GPS. She had dreaded telling Alfredo and confronting him. She wasn’t looking forward to questioning the adoptive parents, either.
But Mason was right. Even if they hadn’t killed Nellie, they were the logical places to start.
His phone buzzed, and he punched connect so she lapsed into silence.
“Tell him I’m on my way.” Mason disconnected then swung the car back on to the main road.
“What is it?” Cara asked.
“The sheriff said his officer found something at Nellie’s apartment that he wants us to look at.”
Worry nagged at Cara as Mason raced toward the apartment complex. The building was old, the concrete units weathered, mesquites adding a touch of Texas character to the dismal surroundings. Mason noted the numbers on the building, found Nellie’s, and he and Cara walked up to the apartment together.
The door stood ajar, two officers inside. “Emery Dothan,” a young brawny officer said by way of introduction.
“What did you find?” Mason asked.
The officer gestured to the kitchen, and they followed him to a pine table where a sheet of paper lay. “It looks as if someone was threatening Nellie Thompson.”
Cara gasped as she read the note.
Do you know where your baby is?
Mason frowned at the message. “So this was about the baby?” Mason murmured.
Cara gripped the table edge. “God, Nellie must have been out of her mind with worry.”
“Did you find anything else?” Mason asked the officer.
The young man shook his head. “We checked her computer but so far nothing.”
“No chat rooms? Social media contacts? Suspicious emails?” Mason asked.
“No. Her history is limited, mostly sites about educational opportunities.”
“She was shy, not very computer savvy. But she had planned to go to cosmetology school,” Cara said. “Only she never had the chance.”
“Follow up with the lab regarding her phone,” Mason said. “If he sent this message, he may have called her, as well.”
“Copy that.”
Cara paled as she and Mason walked back to the car.
“What was the lawyer’s name who handled the adoption?” Mason asked.
Cara tucked an errant strand of her hair behind one ear and settled into her seat. “Regan Wurst.”
Mason sank into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt. “Call him and see if he’s had any inquiries about the Thompson baby.”
“Regan is a she,” she said, then slipped her phone from her purse and scrolled through her contact list. A second later, she punched in a number.
“Regan, it’s Dr. Winchester.”
Mason focused on the road as he drove toward San Antonio, but he kept one ear on Cara’s conversation.
“I’m calling regarding the Thompson adoption,” Cara said. A pause. “Nellie Thompson was murdered. I’m working with the detective to find her killer.” Another pause. “We have questioned the father, and he has an alibi.” Cara hesitated, and he heard the lawyer talking, but he couldn’t understand her exact words.
“We’re on our way to talk to the Davidson family now,” Cara said. “But my office was broken into and files rifled through, the Thompson file among them. I need to know if you’ve had any inquiries about the baby.”
“No,” he heard the woman say.
“No one has been to your office asking questions about the adoption?”
“No.”
“Okay, thanks, Regan. If anyone contacts you, please let me know.” Cara fiddled with her hair, twisting a strand around her finger.
Was she nervous about the investigation, or had she considered giving her child up for adoption?
No...Cara would never do that...would she?
“So she hasn’t had any trouble?” Mason asked as she said goodbye.
“No.” Cara laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She must be exhausted.
He should have insisted she go home and rest. Take care of herself and the baby.
But she was stubborn and wouldn’t have listened, not when she felt protective of the people involved in this case.
Her breathing slowed, and a few minutes later he realized she’d fallen asleep, so he drove in silence, passing farmland and deserted areas until he reached San Antonio. The bright lights of the city gleamed against the darkness, traffic thick as evening picked up with the dinner crowd and nightlife.
He plowed through the streets, weaving through the downtown area and turning into the newer, more exclusive complex where the Davidsons resided. Judging from the gated community entrance and the sparkling lights adorning the neighborhood, the Davidsons had money.
How much had they paid for Nellie’s baby?
And to what lengths would they go in order to keep her?
* * *
CARA STIRRED FROM SLEEP as Mason parked in front of the sprawling two-story Georgian home where the Davidsons lived. She had never been to their house, but Regan had relayed that the family was wealthy and would be able to give every advantage possible to the Thompson baby.
A small comfort to Nellie when she’d handed the little girl over. But she had loved her baby enough to want her to have a happy life and a bright future.
A wave of sadness washed over Cara at the loss of the young woman.
“Are you sure you’re up for
this?” Mason asked.
Cara nodded, reached for the door handle and pulled herself out. Mason hurried around to help her, but once again she made certain she stood on her own. She had been for months now. She couldn’t grow dependent on him now.
Lights glittered along the drive leading to the portico, houselights glowing in the windows indicating the Davidsons were home.
They were probably finishing dinner and putting the baby to bed for the night.
Mason rang the doorbell, and she tapped her foot while they waited. A moment later a housekeeper in a maid’s uniform opened the door. She introduced herself as Gloria. “Yes?”
Mason flashed his credentials and introduced both of them. “We need to speak to the Davidsons please.”
Gloria’s dark eyes flashed with concern. “Can I tell them what this is about?”
“I’d rather do that, ma’am,” Mason said matter-of-factly.
She gestured for them to follow her through an expensively decorated foyer lavish with art and vases, but they ended up in a living room that actually looked cozy and kid friendly. Although the leather furniture was obviously pricey, a baby swing, infant toys and a bouncy seat gave it a homey feel.
She took a seat in the rocking chair in the corner while Mason stood, his gaze scanning the photos of the baby girl on the mantel. The sound of Gloria’s voice and then the couple’s drifted toward her, then Julie and Don Davidson appeared in the doorway, Julie cradling the three-month-old in her arms.
“Detective?” Don extended his hand and shook Mason’s, but both he and his wife looked wary. “What’s going on?”
“Please sit down and I’ll explain,” Mason said.
Julie clutched the infant to her chest as if she expected them to rip the baby from her arms. “Is this about Lacy?” Julie asked, her tone tinged with panic.
Mason cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid it is.”
“No, you can’t take her,” Julie cried. “She’s ours, it’s all legal, we signed papers, we have rights.”
Don held up a calming hand to his wife. “Is that the reason you’re here?”
“No,” Cara said, eager to console them. She understood the constant worry adoptive parents had that they might lose their child. “That’s not the reason for our visit.”
Julie and her husband exchanged a confused look. “Then why are you here?”
“Please sit down,” Mason said.
The Davidsons huddled together on the sofa. Lacy started whimpering as if she sensed something was wrong, and Julie rocked her in her arms, soothing her with softly whispered words of love.
Nellie would have taken comfort in the way the couple loved her baby, Cara thought.
“Why are you concerned that we came to take the baby?” Mason said. “Had the mother or father asked for the child back?”
Don shook his head and Julie followed. “We haven’t heard from the mother at all. In fact, we’ve never even met. All communication was done through our attorney.”
“Regan Wurst?” Mason asked.
The couple nodded in tandem.
“How about the baby’s father? Has he tried to contact you?”
“No,” they both said at once.
Julie’s eyes widened. “Do they want Lacy back?”
“No,” Mason said. “Why do you think that?”
“I’ve just seen stories about that happening,” Julie said.
“It’s all right, Julie, I promise you, that’s not why we’re here.” Cara stroked little Lacy’s soft dark hair. “Can I hold her?”
Julie looked wary, but nodded and allowed Cara to gently lift the baby from her arms. Cara rocked Lacy back and forth, her heart constricting when the baby looked up into her eyes and cooed.
“Please, Dr. Winchester,” Julie said. “Tell us what’s going on.”
Cara glanced at Mason, and he cleared his throat.
“Where were you the night before last?”
Don narrowed his eyes. “At a work function until midnight, then in the hotel the rest of the evening.”
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a developer,” Don explained. “I helped develop this housing community, and we’ve just opened up a similar one in Dallas.”
Mason angled his head toward Julie. “What about you, Mrs. Davidson?”
Cara tensed. He couldn’t possibly suspect sweet Julie Davidson of such a heinous crime.
Julie squared her shoulders. “Lacy and I were here. My mother came for a visit, and we took Lacy to the park that afternoon, then had dinner out and came home.”
“So you both have people who can confirm your whereabouts?”
Don’s mouth compressed into an angry line. “Yes. Now what the hell is going on? Why do we need an alibi?”
Mason heaved a sigh. “Because Nellie Thompson was murdered that night.”
“Oh, my God,” Julie gasped.
Don’s eyes widened in shock. “You think we had something to do with her murder?”
“We’re simply trying to work through the process of elimination at this point. If Nellie or the baby’s father had pushed you to relinquish custody—”
“That would be motive,” Don said as he reached for his cell phone. “Don’t say anything else, Julie. I’m calling our attorney.”
“Don,” Cara said. “We’re not accusing you of anything. We’re just trying to figure out what happened to Nellie.”
Julie took the little girl from Cara. “Regan promised us confidentiality, and we did everything by the book. Lacy is ours.”
Cara squeezed her shoulder. “I know that, Julie. We’re just trying to find Nellie’s killer. And frankly, I had to make sure Lacy was safe.”
Don clenched the phone, hesitating. “You think whoever killed Nellie might come after the baby?”
Mason cleared his throat. “At this point, we don’t have any idea. But just to be on the safe side, you should be careful.”
“We could take her away somewhere,” Julie said, her voice stricken. “Maybe my mother’s in Houston.”
Mason shook his head. “Until the investigation is over, don’t leave town.”
Fury flashed in Don’s eyes. “Then I’ll hire around-the-clock security. No one is going to get our little girl.”
Cara shot Mason an angry look. She didn’t believe Julie or Don had anything to do with Nellie’s murder any more than she thought Alfredo had.
And she hated that they’d frightened the couple.
After all, the murder might not have anything to do with the baby. It could have been a random killing.
* * *
MASON HANDED HIS CARD to the couple, then asked both of them to write down contact information to confirm their alibis. The couple was huddled together as they left.
“They didn’t have anything to do with this,” Cara said as soon as they stepped outside.
“You don’t know that. Even with their alibis, they have money. Davidson could have hired someone to do his dirty work for him.”
“But you heard what they said, and Regan confirmed it. Neither Nellie nor Alfredo contacted them about custody.” Cara opened her car door. “Besides, the Davidsons have plenty of money. If there had been a problem, they could have hired a top-notch attorney to defend their position and won. There would be no reason to resort to murder.”
Mason climbed in the car, and Cara slid into her seat and fastened her seat belt. “So if they had nothing to do with it, we’re back to nothing.”
“Except that we have a violent offender.” Mason raked a hand across his jaw. Cara’s rationalizations made sense. Both Nellie and Alfredo had been impoverished. And money talked. The Davidsons probably would have won the case if it had gone to court. “We need to take a closer look at Nellie, find out everything she did in the days leading up to her death.”
His cell phone rang, and he connected the call as he pulled down the drive. “Detective Blackpaw.”
“This is Dr. Tarrington, the ME working
on the Thompson body. Dr. Winchester requested I contact you with my report.”
Mason’s heartbeat picked up. Maybe he had something helpful. “Yes, what did you find?”
“No forensics, I’m afraid.”
“Cause of death?”
“Exsanguination. But that’s where it gets interesting.”
Perspiration beaded Mason’s neck. “What do you mean?”
“This bastard didn’t simply stab Nellie Thompson,” Dr. Tarrington said. “He cut out her uterus.”
* * *
HE WATCHED THE WOMAN cozy up to the man in the bar, her long black hair sliding over her shoulders like a dark curtain. She was flirting outrageously, sipping her third martini, lavishing attention on the poor guy who had no idea that she was nothing more than a common whore.
Not the mother she should have been to her child.
No, she’d thrown her kid away like it was an inconvenience, barely taking a day off from her busy work life and partying to find a couple who would take it off her hands.
And that bitch Dr. Winchester had helped her.
He sipped his bourbon and watched her lift a blood-red fingernail to the man’s cheek and scrape it along his jaw, then she rose and rubbed herself against him so he pulled her between his legs.
Disgust filled him. She was one of the worst. Nellie had been poor and would have had a hard time raising her child, but she still could have done it.
This woman had money enough to hire a damned nanny if she needed to. But she couldn’t be bothered to be a mother.
And for that she would pay.
Yes, all the sinners had to suffer.
One by one, he would see that they got what they deserved.
Chapter Six
A cold shiver rippled up Cara’s spine as Mason explained the ME’s findings.
Just as she’d feared from her preliminary exam, the killer had cut out Nellie’s reproductive organs. “This is not a simple murder,” she said. “This is a sick man.”
Mason grunted in disgust. “You’re telling me. He’s one of the worst I’ve seen.”
“He obviously has a reason for targeting that specific area.”
“Which would make me suspect the baby’s father.”
“You saw Alfredo,” Cara said. “He didn’t do this.”