Kyle's Modern Montana Bride (The New Montana Brides Book 6)

by Susan Leigh Carlton

  “I have a better idea,” she said. “I’ll fix dinner, and we can talk while we eat.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Sounds like a plan to me. Before you start, could you get out the telephone bills that show the long distance calls. And a map, if you have it.”

  She brought a map that showed Arizona, New Mexico and Southern California, along with a set of Sharpie pens. “Do you have a pencil, and some Saran wrap.”

  “Yes, I do, but why Saran wrap?” she asked.

  “I’m going to make an overlay. That way, I can mark it up without messing up the map.” He said.

  “That’s a good idea,” she said.

  “He laughed, and said, “I’d like to claim it as mine, but we used overlays every day. We’d mark it up to show the coordinates, and landmarks we would be using for that day. Everything went on it from freqs to call signs. It was strapped to your knee so you didn’t have to fumble around for it while some gomer was shooting at you.”

  “To show my ignorance, what’s a freak?,” she asked.

  “Oh, that’s slang for radio frequency,” he said. “We had our own language.”

  “That must have been frightening. How in the world do you function in that kind of environment?”

  “You train for it hours on end. When something happens, your reaction is automatic. Anybody that tells you they’re not frightened is either a fool or a liar. I was neither. I was scared every day of my tour,” he said.

  “And yet you went back, day in and day out,” she said in wonderment.

  “It broke some men. When that happened, they were evacuated along with the wounded,” he said.

  “Were you wounded?” she asked.

  “Not a scratch. I messed up a flight suit or two, though,” he said,

  “I didn’t mean to bring that up,” she said, and placed a chef salad in front of him. “What kind of dressing would you like?”

  “Ranch if you have it, if you don’t, anything will do,” he responded.

  “I have ranch. What do you have so far?” she asked and leaned over his shoulder to look at the map.

  There had been seven calls. He placed a small dot on the overlay for each call. “I only put one dot if there were multiple calls from the same place,” he said. “He’s headed west, as you can see. The dotted line is his route.”

  He sniffed. “That’s something I never came across, while I was in-country.”

  “What?” she asked in a puzzled voice”

  “Your perfume. You smell good, The locals didn’t have it. They mostly smelled like goats,” he said with a laugh.

  “Were there women where you were?” she asked.

  “We had hooch girls to do the cleaning. We didn’t have to do the cleaning,” he said.

  “Hooch girl?” she questioned.

  “We called our quarters hooches, so a hooch girl cleaned your space. Some of the men paid for other services. It was something else for me to be afraid of,” he said.

  “I’d probably smell like a goat if I didn’t wear it,” she said.

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” he said. He thought the conversation was becoming a little personal, and he looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. I need to get out of here and find a hotel.”

  “Stay here,” she said. “There’s plenty of room.”

  “I’d better find a hotel. I don’t want to put you out,” he replied.

  “Am I something else you are afraid of,” she asked in a teasing voice.

  “Probably,” he answered.

  “Kyle, you don’t have to be afraid of me. You can use the bedroom at the end of the hall. There’s a connecting bath. Zach had the other bedroom. Stay if you like. We could start planning early. I don’t have a project in play right now.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” he said. “I’ll get my bag from the car.”

  Sleep was slow in coming that night. I’m a father. Shit. I’m about as qualified to be a father as I am to fly the space shuttle. What if I don’t find him? What if something happens to him? There are so many bogey men and predators out there.

  He was up before dawn. He rummaged around in the refrigerator and found the makings of a western omelet. He had just buttered the toast when Susannah came into the kitchen. Wrapped in a powder blue house coat. Her hair had been brushed out, but not put up. Nor did she have makeup. She was still beautiful.

  “What are you doing up so early?” she asked.

  “We ranch types put in half a day’s work before normal people get up,” he said.

  “And you cook, too,” she marveled. “You earned your keep,”

  “I had trouble getting to sleep, and I always get up early. We were usually flying at dawn when we were in-country,” he said.

  “Was the bed uncomfortable?” she asked.

  “No, it was fine,” he said. “I couldn’t get all of the dangers Zach is facing out there out of my mind. There are so many predators, and he’s just a kid. What if he comes across one of them? He probably wouldn’t even recognize them.”

  “I try not to let myself think about it,” she said. She stood from the table, rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Standing behind him, she put her hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for the breakfast. That’s the first time in an awful long time, for me.”

  “I’m going to get dressed. I won’t be long,” she said, and walked down the hall to her bedroom.

  chapter Six

  The Search Begins

  As he watched her make her way down the hall, Kyle’s thoughts compared Susannah to Ashley. There’s a lot of resemblance physically, but it pretty much stops there. Ashley was always bubbly, taking charge, and giving orders. Susannah was more of a book worm. She is the type I’d like to have for a friend. She’s caring and compassionate. Look at all she’s done for Zach. She should have told me about Zach. Ashley should have told me. I could have helped. I had a right to know I was a father.

  His anger was growing when she came back into the room. He started, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “Where were you?” she asked.

  His cheeks colored. “I was just thinking,” he said.

  “About what?” she asked. “You’ll find I’m the nosy type.”

  “If you must know, I was comparing the similarities and differences between you and Ashley,” he said. “I wish you had told me. You should have.

  “Come on now,” she said. “I know I should have and I’m truly sorry for not telling you. You had a right to know.

  “Damn straight,” he said.

  “Stop swearing. I don’t like it. And, I’m nothing like Ashley. She was a beautiful girl. Everyone liked her.”

  “Yes, she was beautiful,” Kyle said. “Look in the mirror. You don’t have to take a back seat to her or anyone.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say, but it’s not true,” she replied.

  Kyle said, “Ashley always told people what to do, like the night we broke up, she told me I was not going off to the Army, and how silly the idea was. Somehow, I don’t picture you that way.”

  “You’re embarrassing me,” she said. “Let’s get to what you came for. Where’s the map?”

  He had taped the overlay over the map. “Well,” he said. The first call came from Scottsdale. That’s not very far. I might as well start at the beginning. Are you coming along?”

  “No, I want to be here if he calls,” she said.

  “Do you have call forwarding? If so, you can forward your calls to your cell phone,” he said.

  “I could do that,” she said. “I never thought of it. Still, I think I had rather stay here.”

  Scottsdale is a short drive from Phoenix, although the traffic was heavy. Kyle explained to the desk sergeant in the Scottsdale Police Department, “I’m Kyle Thompson. My son ran away from his aunt’s home, and I’m trying to find him. I’d like to speak to whomever works the runaway scene.”

  The sergeant directed him to a seat and said, “
Someone will be with you shortly.”

  The someone was Marlene Downey. “Ms. Downey, my son ran away from home about four weeks ago and I’m trying to locate him. The Phoenix police don’t have any leads, so I’m following a trail of phone calls he made.” He showed her the only photo he had.

  “Come back to my office, Mr. Thompson, and we’ll go through our books.” She led the way to a small, dingy, windowless office that was crowded even though the only furniture was a battered gray desk, an equally battered chair. The two drawer file cabinet had seen better days. Years ago. The walls were plastered with photos of kids. All ages. From toddlers through teenagers.

  “Are these all missing children?” Kyle asked.

  “Yes, they are or were. The ones with the red “X” are confirmed dead. The ones with the green “X” have been found safe and reunited. The others are active.” Marlene said. “The list grows daily. It’s an epidemic. The wall doesn’t have enough space to hold them all

  She turned to the keyboard on her desk and typed several letters. The screen came to life. She entered Zach’s name and Susannah’s address. The screen flashed and the information on the screen changed.

  “We received the BOLO, that’s Be on the lookout notice from the Phoenix Police Department. I have made no entries, so that indicates I have no information. I’m sorry; I wish I could be more helpful.”

  “Do you have any suggestions?” he asked.

  “As you run down these phone calls, I would suggest you contact CPS; that’s Children’s Protective Service, in the cities involved. Their data wouldn’t be in our database unless there was a crime committed. I routinely fax anything I get to them, though, but they don’t often reciprocate.”

  “Ms. Downey, I appreciate your time. I’ve learned something here today,” Kyle said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Thompson. It’s an uphill battle, and I can use all the help I can get. Good luck.”

  She told Kyle “CPS is usually in the County Offices, and they are woefully understaffed.”

  His next stop was the Scottsdale CPS office, where he met with one of their harried case workers. She checked her files and found nothing on Zach other than a routine notice from Phoenix. “That wouldn’t be unusual,” she said. “We get our information from the police and calls from citizens.”

  * * *

  Kyle stopped for lunch and decided to call Susannah. She answered on the first ring. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. I don’t expect you’ve had any luck yet?”

  “No, unfortunately I struck out in Scottsdale. I’m going to go on up to Lake Havasu City next.

  When he looked at the map, he had marked up, he saw Lake Havasu City was a three hour drive, and the other places on the map were further. It made no sense to drive when he had an aircraft that could travel in an hour what took four hours to drive. I need to talk to Pop. He called his Dad’s cell phone, since he didn’t think it was a good idea to tell his Mother what he was doing just yet.

  “Dad, I need to talk to you. Can Mom hear you?” he asked.

  “No, right now, I’m on a horse. What do you need?”

  “Dad, I do have a son. Susannah has a picture of me with Ashley when we were eleven or twelve. She showed it beside a photo of Zachary. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he’s mine.”

  “Why was he with Susannah instead of his mother?” his father asked.

  “She died several years ago of an overdose, and Susannah is his legal guardian. It’s a bad scene. Anyway, Zach ran away a little over a month ago. She notified the police, but they have nothing. We’re lucky, since he’s called Susannah collect every few days, almost always from a different place. The last time was from near Reno.

  “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to use the 310 to run these calls down rather than drive.”

  “Do you want to come pick me up to fly your right seat?” his father asked. “You know I’ll be glad to do it.”

  “I know, Pop, but it might be hard to explain to Mom,” Kyle said.

  “You have a point there. You go ahead and do whatever you need. Just bring back my grandson,” his father said.

  “I will, Pop. Thank you. Tell Mom whatever you think she needs to know.”

  “I’ll have to think about that a bit. Thanks for letting me know. You be careful son.”

  He drove back to Sky Harbor, and checked the 310 over, and filed a VFR flight plan to Lake Havasu City, after checking the weather. Forty minutes after he took off from Sky Harbor, he landed at Lake Havasu City Municipal Airport. He rented a car and drove to the small police department, where he met with a patrolman assigned part time to missing persons.

  “Let me tell you first off, sir,” Patrolman Rollins said. “I don’t do much in that area. We just don’t have the resources to devote a man full time. We react to situations more than anything else. Let me check our system for you, on the off chance we might have anything.” He left the room and returned five minutes later. “There’s nothing in the database about anyone with that name. It doesn’t really mean anything other than he didn’t get in any trouble here.”

  “Do you get many runaways here?” Kyle asked.

  “Too many,” Rollins said. “If they’re eighteen, we can’t do anything about it unless they break the law. It all depends on the circumstances. Panhandling is against a city ordinance, but we don’t really go after them unless there’s a complaint.

  “The addicts are different. They’ll do anything for a hit. We make quite a few arrests for prostitution. If they are minors, they go to Juvy, and the parents are notified, if we can find them.”

  “Where do they stay?” Kyle asked.

  “On the streets, some churches have places, there’s a park down by the lake. I’ll make you a list,” Rollins said.

  “Thanks, Officer. I appreciate it,” Kyle said.

  chapter Seven

  A Glimmer of Hope

  Kyle found a city map at the tourist center. He stopped at a fast food place and got a cheeseburger and fries. He went back to the Holiday Inn where he had taken a room. With a drink from the machine down the hall, he spread the map on the small coffee table and ate his cheeseburger while studied the situation. He found two of the places on the list Rollins had given him. He got some of the others from the front desk clerk. Then he began marking up his map.

  Finished, he called Susannah.

  “I’m in Lake Havasu City. I’ve been to the police and to CPS. They are a small department, but the officer I spoke to gave me several places check. I’ll start that in the morning and go from there.”

  “You sure got there in a hurry. Please be careful. I have enough guilt on my plate without you becoming involved in an accident.”

  “I flew up here. Took forty minutes from the time my wheels lifted off until I landed. I’m staying at the Holiday Inn. If you have a pen handy, here’s the number in case you get a call.

  “I have to tell you, the more I think about being kept in the dark about my son, the more upset I am. I don’t understand it at all. A simple call to the ranch would have gotten you my address.”

  Kyle expected an argument from her. He didn’t get it. She didn’t fight back the way her sister used to. She was contrite, and apologetic. “I understand you’re angry and you have every right to be. I should have tried to find you. I just didn’t. I’m sorry, and I don’t know what else to say.”

  “You idiot, she didn’t deserve that. She’s worried about your son and you dump on her. You should be ashamed of yourself,” the little voice in his head said.

  He had a fitful night. He dreamed he was in a firefight in a native village in Afghanistan. A building caught fire. The occupants streamed from the building in the face of small arms fire from the Taliban. All left except one. A figure stood behind a window. As Kyle watched, the fire consumed the boy. The last thing he saw was a sad face. Zach’s face, his eyes pleading, but his lips not moving. The face melted, and Kyle jolted awake. The dream had been so real, his undershirt was so
aked. His face and arms were covered in perspiration.

  When morning finally came, he went in to take a shower. When he looked in the mirror, the face looking back at him looked as if it belonged to someone coming off a two week bender. He had not had a single drink the previous evening. He always abstained from drinking when he might be flying the next day.

  He checked with the front desk the checkout time, and then asked about a good restaurant for breakfast. The clerk recommended The Red Onion on McCulloch Street. It lived up to the clerk’s praise and Kyle walked out pleasantly full.

  It was time to begin the search in earnest.

  By noon, Kyle left the third place on the list. No one recognized the photo of Zach out of the thirty or forty people he spoke with. He went back to the Red Onion for lunch, and visited another location with the same result as before.

  With two locations left on the list, he drove to a park by the river and found it to be heavily populated with teenagers. The skunky smell of marijuana hung in the air.

  Kyle showed the picture to a girl who looked to be about fifteen; she recognized Zach. “I hung with him several days,” she said. “He’s a really cool kid.”

  Elated, Kyle asked, “Is he still here?”

  “No, he left two weeks ago,” she said.

  Hoping against hope, Kyle asked, “Do you know where he was going?”

  “He told me he was going to someplace near Reno. I don’t remember the name but there was supposed to be some kind of battle of the bands he wanted to see. He wanted me to go, but that’s not my thing. I like it here,” the girl said.

  “I appreciate your help, I really do. Is there anything you need, money or anything?” Kyle asked.

  “I’d like to go home,” she said.

  “I will be glad to pay for your ticket home,” he said. “I know what your parents must be going through. Where do you live?”

  “Omaha,” she said.

  “If I pay for a ticket, will you go home,” Kyle asked.

  She nodded. Kyle gave her $200 and said, “That should cover your ticket and meals. There may be enough to get a new pair of jeans and blouse.”