The Cowboy's Claim

by Carla Cassidy

  “It has to be him,” she said aloud. “He always asks about Garrett. He would have had access to my drink. He could have dropped that box of toys off at the motel, and he probably knows how to pick a lock on a door. Maybe his sense of reality cracked.”

  “I don’t give a damn what cracked. If he’s got my kid, he’s got a problem,” Nick replied tersely.

  “Maybe we should call Cameron and tell him where we’re going?” she suggested.

  “No. I want to check this out myself. We’ll go to Rusty’s cabin, and if he isn’t there then we’ll call in Cameron.” Nick stepped on the gas and a sense of urgency filled Courtney as they drew closer to the Cowboy Café and the four cabins behind it, including one where Rusty lived.

  Courtney’s heart thundered in her chest, like a frantic drum that resonated through her entire body. She told herself this had to be right, that they were going to get to Rusty’s cabin and find Garrett there safe and sound. There would be no ugly confrontation, the sight of them would snap Rusty out of whatever mental delusion he’d suffered, and he’d be apologetic and horrified by what he’d done.

  The tiny ray of hope exploded into a shining ball as Nick reached the parking lot of the café and headed around to the back of the building, where the four small cabins were located.

  Three of them had been left empty after Candy Bailey, the first waitress, had been murdered in hers. Cameron had moved out the other single women but had agreed to allow Rusty to continue living in the one on the far end.

  Hope soared through her as she saw a light shining from Rusty’s cabin and his beat-up red pickup truck parked outside. “He’s here,” she said, her heart beating so fast she was breathless.

  As Nick came to a stop in front of the cabin, Courtney prayed that Garrett was inside, happily playing with toys Rusty had bought for him. She needed to have Garrett in her arms right now. She couldn’t wait another minute.

  When Nick’s truck came to a stop, they both jumped out. Nick beat her to the door, banging on it with the force of a jackhammer.

  “Hold your damn horses,” Rusty’s deep voice yelled from inside. He jerked open his door and took a step back at the sight of them. “Nick...Courtney...what’s up?”

  It was obvious Rusty had been relaxing. He wore an old worn T-shirt and cutoff denim shorts that showcased legs the size of tree trunks.

  “You got our boy?” Nick asked, the tension taut in his voice.

  Rusty frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?” He looked from Nick to Courtney, genuine confusion in his blue eyes. “Courtney? What’s going on?”

  It was at that moment Courtney knew her baby wasn’t here. Where was Garrett? She turned to Nick and burst into tears.

  Chapter 13

  Minutes later they were back in Nick’s truck, but still parked in front of Rusty’s cabin. “I was so sure,” she cried. “I was so sure this was the answer.”

  Rusty had fully cooperated when Nick had asked to come in and look around, and both he and Courtney were satisfied that Rusty had nothing to do with the missing little boy.

  “At least this made some sort of sense,” Nick replied. He hadn’t even started his truck. It was as if he didn’t know what to do next, where to go.

  She felt the same way...lost in a miasma of emotions that felt far too close to grief. And she didn’t want to feel grief. That implied she had lost something precious, and Garrett wasn’t lost forever—he was merely temporarily misplaced.

  “I just can’t imagine anyone else who might have done this,” she finally said as her burst of tears ebbed.

  “We’d better head back to the motel and wait to see what Cameron and his deputies have found,” Nick said as he started the truck.

  “If they had found something somebody would have called us,” she replied, fighting against an overwhelming despair.

  She stared out the window, the darkness outside a misery in her soul. Who would want to do this? Who would want to hurt her? Hurt Nick? Who would want to take away their precious son?

  They both jumped in their seats as Nick’s cell phone rang. He pulled to the side of the road and fumbled with one hand to get it out of his pocket and answer.

  She sat forward in her seat as far as the seat belt would allow. She could tell by his expression that it wasn’t good news, nor was it bad. Nick listened for a moment, then said goodbye and clicked off the phone.

  “That was Cameron. He was at your parents’ house, where they were in the middle of a dinner party. There was no indication that they had anything to do with Garrett’s disappearance.”

  Courtney nodded, a faint edge of sadness momentarily stealing her abject fear for her son. “They haven’t wanted anything to do with him or me for the last two years, so I couldn’t imagine that they’d suddenly gotten a desire to kidnap Garrett.”

  “He also told me that Ben Temple checked out Grant, who was at The Corral with a couple of buddies and had been there for the past several hours.” He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. “That puts us back to square one,” he said in obvious frustration. “The suspects we had, Grant, Rusty and your parents, are all off the list of suspects.” His voice deepened with each word and his eyes darkened to a blue she’d never seen before. “So, who has our son?” he asked hoarsely. “I’ve only had him for a little over a week. Why would somebody take him away from me? From us?”

  Courtney’s heart ached not only with her own pain but also with his. She reached across the seat and placed her hand on his, as if only by connecting could they find the strength to get through all of this.

  “Cameron is on his way back to the motel,” Nick said as he once again put the truck in drive and merged back onto the road.

  Once again she stared out the passenger window, where the darkness felt like an enemy who had swallowed her son and now refused to let him go.

  Garrett was out there, Courtney thought in despair. She desperately hoped Nick was right, that somehow the toys and the kidnapping were connected and whoever had taken Garrett had tucked him gently into a nicely covered crib.

  She desperately hoped Garrett wasn’t afraid. The mental vision of him standing in a crib, crying out for her, sickened her and brought a new veil of tears to her eyes.

  As Nick pulled back into the motel parking lot, Courtney fought against the scream of torment that worked its way up the back of her throat.

  “Go to the office,” she said. Nick gave her a quick, curious look, and she shrugged. “Maybe Mickey has remembered something since Cameron spoke to him earlier.”

  Nick nodded and pulled in front of the motel office. Courtney knew he felt what she did, the need to do something even if it had already been done.

  Mickey Jeffries was a thirty-year-old who worked the desk at the motel from seven in the evening until seven in the morning. He was an affable young man whose bright smile mitigated the fact that he had ears to rival a baby elephant’s.

  His smile was nowhere in sight as Nick and Courtney walked into the small office that smelled of burned coffee and freshly baked cookies. “Any news?” he asked as he stood from his chair behind the desk.

  Courtney shook her head. “We were just wondering if you’d thought of anything else since Cameron spoke to you.” As she waited for him to answer, she wondered how long her heart could continue the frantic beat in her chest, how long could she remain in this horrendous state of limbo?

  “No. I mean, Sheriff Evans asked me if I’d seen anyone around your room throughout the evening, but I didn’t pay any attention. I usually just sit behind the desk until somebody comes in, and tonight was pretty quiet.”

  Courtney knew it had been a long shot. “Thanks, Mickey.” She began to turn to leave, but her attention was caught by the plate of cookies that sat on the counter. They were artfully arranged on a red paper plate with a pink doily.

  She froze. Where had she seen that before? “Those look nice and fresh,” she said, racking her brain to remember where she’d seen cookies arrange
d like that before.

  “Yeah, the last couple of weeks Abigail Swisher has been coming by and dropping off cookies for the staff and guests. She bakes a mean chocolate chip cookie.” He looked stricken. “Jeez, I didn’t mention to Sheriff Evans that she’d dropped by earlier.”

  Abigail. Of course, she’d brought a plate of cookies to Courtney while she’d been in the hospital. As Courtney and Nick left the office, Courtney’s brain flashed with thoughts and images.

  Abigail...who had lost a baby about the same time that Garrett had been born. Abigail, who often came to the park at the same time Courtney took Garrett. Abigail had been in the café the night that Courtney thought she’d been drugged.

  The last thing Courtney wanted to do was point a finger at an innocent woman, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered about Abigail.

  Had she had some sort of psychotic snap? Had she somehow fell into a delusion where she thought Garrett was her son? That’s what you thought about Rusty, she reminded herself, and you were wrong about him.

  Still, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. As she and Nick stepped back out into the darkness of night, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Nick?”

  He turned to look at her, his features taut with tension, but softening slightly as he gazed at her. “Yeah?”

  “I think maybe we need to talk to Abigail Swisher.”

  He frowned. “Abigail? Why her?”

  The more Courtney thought about it, the more frantically her heart beat. She told him everything that was whirling around in her mind. “Am I crazy, or is it possible?”

  “If you’re crazy then I’m right there with you. Let’s go,” he said, immediately pulling her back to his truck.

  “Maybe we should call Cameron? He’ll wonder where we’ve gone.”

  “We’ll call when we get closer to the Swisher place,” Nick replied.

  Minutes later they were on their way to Abigail’s farmhouse. Nick had called Cameron, who was still on his way back from Evanston and wasn’t happy with them, but Cameron’s disapproval of them going out alone didn’t slow Nick’s speed.

  “I don’t want you talking to her,” Courtney said. She held up a hand to still the protest she knew Nick would make. “If what I think is true, then she’s sick and I don’t want you coming at her. I’ll approach her woman to woman, see if I can get inside the house and see any indication that Garrett is there. You already went at Rusty like you were going to tear his head off, and we were wrong.”

  “If we’d been right I would have torn his head off,” Nick replied darkly.

  “I need to go in first, Nick. It’s a gut instinct, a woman’s intuition,” she said.

  “I don’t like it,” Nick replied flatly.

  “It’s the way we need to do it, Nick. I feel it in my heart. I need to approach her softly. You can be right outside and can come in if necessary. But, if she’s an innocent woman and my instincts are all wrong, I don’t want her upset.”

  “Surely Fred wouldn’t have anything to do with something like kidnapping a kid,” Nick said.

  “The last few times I’ve seen her, she’s mentioned that Fred is out of town.” Courtney thought of Abigail’s husband, a soft-spoken man who wore a veil of sadness about him.

  Nick’s frown was evident in the illumination from the dashboard. “But, this still doesn’t make sense. How on earth would Abigail think she could keep Garrett in this small town and nobody would know? The minute she bought a box of diapers somebody would question it, since she doesn’t have any kids.”

  “I don’t know,” Courtney replied. “It doesn’t make sense, and that’s why it’s possible this is just another wild goose chase. Abigail is a nice woman who suffered a terrible tragedy. I wouldn’t want to accuse her of something she isn’t guilty of.”

  Courtney’s heart banged painfully hard as Nick pulled into the Swisher drive. The long drive led to a small ranch house. “I don’t see Fred’s pickup,” Nick said.

  “And I don’t see Abigail’s SUV,” Courtney said, wondering if it was possible nobody was home. Was it Abigail who had been hiding in the park that day, watching Courtney and Nick as they’d played with Garrett? Was it possible the woman had dropped something in Courtney’s drink in an effort to harm her?

  Had that been the beginning of some bizarre plan to steal Garrett away from Courtney? It sounded positively crazy, especially given Nick’s presence in town, in their lives.

  “Maybe nobody is home,” she said as they drew closer.

  “It’s lit up like somebody is home,” Nick replied.

  He parked in front of the house, unfastened his seat belt and turned to her. “Are you sure you want to go up there alone?”

  “Positive,” she said despite the nerves that screamed just beneath the surface of her skin.

  “Unfortunately, you aren’t the boss in this particular situation,” he replied. “I’ll let you go to the door and talk to her, but I’m going to be right off the porch where she can’t see me, close enough that if you get into trouble I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay, but I’m not expecting any trouble. Still, if there is trouble, trust me, I know how to scream.” Courtney stared at the house and thought she saw a shadow move behind the curtains at the front window. “Somebody’s home,” she muttered.

  Drawing a deep breath, she got out of the truck and didn’t even look to see if Nick followed. She was focused solely on the idea that there was a possibility that her son was inside, that he needed to be back where he belonged...with her and Nick.

  This thought forced a surge of strength inside her. If Garrett was inside, then she wouldn’t let anything or anyone stop her from getting to him.

  As she walked toward the front door, she was aware of Nick blending into the shadows of the night and moving to stand just out of sight next to the front porch.

  This was probably a waste of time, she thought as she stopped at the front door. Abigail had always seemed so nice, so normal. Courtney raised her hand to knock, but hesitated a moment. Was she mentally stringing together a series of events to Abigail in a desperate effort to find her son? There was only one way to find out. She rapped on the door and tensed as she heard footsteps approaching from the other side.

  The door opened and Abigail greeted her with a startled look. “Courtney, what a surprise,” she said. “Can I help you with something? It’s a bit late for a social visit, isn’t it?” Abigail held the door tight in her hands only halfway open. But, in the space of the open door Courtney saw a couple of suitcases sitting just inside the door.

  “Oh, are you going somewhere?” Courtney asked, trying to keep her tone light and friendly even though she wanted to storm through the door and search the house for her son.

  “I told you the other day that Fred was on a business trip, but the truth is he’s in Dallas with his parents. We had a little spat about a month ago that kind of spiraled out of control, but everything is going to be all right now and I’m going down to his parents’ house to meet him.”

  Abigail beamed at Courtney, and then her smile fell into a frown of confusion. “But, you never said why you’re here.”

  At that moment a faint cry came from someplace behind Abigail. It wasn’t just any cry. It was the sound of an unhappy little boy...Courtney’s unhappy little boy.

  “I’ve got to go now,” Abigail said, but as she tried to close the door Courtney stuck her foot in it so that Abigail couldn’t shut her out.

  “Who’s that? Who is that crying?” she asked. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as Garrett’s cries grew louder.

  Abigail smiled, and in the hazy glow of that smile Courtney realized the woman had lost all touch with reality. “That’s my boy, Jason. You haven’t met him. He’s been sickly for a while, so I don’t take him out much.”

  “Since I’m here, could I meet him now?” Courtney wondered just how distant Abigail was from the real world. “You know, I have a little boy, too.”

 
“Oh, yes, I know. Sweet little Garrett. Jason is just about his age.”

  “So, can I meet your Jason?” Courtney felt as if she was about to explode. There was no question that the child in the house was Garrett, and thankfully there was no reason to believe that he was in any real danger.

  But it was obvious Abigail had suffered some sort of delusional snap, and that meant there was no way to second-guess what she might be capable of.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to meet my Jason,” Abigail said. She opened the door wider to allow Courtney into the neat living room. As she closed the door behind them, Courtney wondered where Nick was and if he’d heard any of their conversation. Had he heard Garrett’s faint cry?

  She followed Abigail down a hallway, her heart beating so fast she felt as if she might be on the verge of a heart attack. She drew a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. Garrett had stopped crying, but she could hear his little voice gibbering softly as they approached the first doorway.

  “He’s a good boy, and of course he’s missed his daddy since Fred has been gone. But, both Fred and I agree that it’s important that a child grows up in an intact family.”

  Abigail ushered Courtney into a bedroom that had been set up as a nursery complete with teddy bear curtains and wallpaper border, a rocking chair and a crib. And in the crib Garrett pulled himself up as they entered, and his eyes lit with happiness as he held his arms out to Courtney. “Mama!”

  Courtney’s knees nearly sagged in relief to see him not only healthy but also obviously not tremendously traumatized as he leaned down and picked up a plastic book. “Toy,” he said. She fought the impulse to run to him, to grab him up in her arms and flee out the door.

  Poor Abigail. She needed help. Courtney had no idea what had happened between Abigail and Fred, but it was easy to guess that when Fred left, Abigail had snapped.