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

by Susan Leigh Carlton

  She hugged him. “Thanks mister. Kyle’s lucky to have a father like you. Mine’s going to kill me when I get home,” she said.

  “No he won’t. He’s going to hug you and tell you how glad he is you came home. Wait and see. Go get your ticket, and go home,” Kyle said.

  “Mister?” she asked.

  “Yes?”

  “I told you the truth. That’s where he said he was going. Good luck,” she said.

  Kyle went back to the Holiday Inn and checked out. He drove to the airport, verified the 310 had been serviced. He went into the FBO and bought the appropriate approach plates for the Reno airport, and paid the bill. He filed an IFR flight plan for Reno direct. He received his clearance, taxied the 310 to the end of the active runway and took off on what he hoped was the last leg of his journey.

  It was after dark when he landed, and made the arrangements for servicing the 310. He took a hotel shuttle to the Marriott Residence Inn. It had been a long day and he was tired. He ordered room service and showered while he waited for his food. After the shower, he felt better; his mood heightened.

  He ate, took out his iPhone and punched in Susannah’s number. When she realized it was him, she said, “I didn’t think you were going to call. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Reno. I had a little bit of luck in Lake Havasu City. I talked to a girl who said she had spent several days with Zach about two weeks ago. She was about a year older than him, and she recognized his picture. He told her he was going to a place not far from Reno, for a battle of the bands, whatever that is. Anyway, the Reno airport is the closest, and I’m going over there in the morning. We’re getting closer.

  She had him relate the conversation several times. He told her “The girl called Zach a really cool kid. I asked her if there was anything she needed. She said she wanted to go home to Omaha, but didn’t have any money. I gave her $200. I don’t know what she will do with it. I hope she uses it to go home.”

  They talked until past midnight. Susannah told him how she had taken care of Zach off and on all of his life. She told him about Ashley’s attempts at rehab and leaving most of them before she should have. “Mom and Dad used most of their savings trying to get her straight, but she kept relapsing. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she caught some sort of disease. In one of her times, she told me how she had hooked for money to get a fix. I hate to admit it, but I gave up; or I would have if it hadn’t been for Zach, and being afraid she would take him away if I confronted her. In my own way, I guess I was as weak as she was. I enabled her, and that was wrong, just as wrong as my not trying to find you.” She had begun crying. Kyle found himself wishing he could comfort her.

  “I’m going to start with the sheriff’s office and go from there tomorrow morning. Keep your chin up. We’re making progress,” he said. “Are you going to be working tomorrow? I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  They said goodbye, Kyle put the room service tray in the hall to be picked up, and went to bed. He was asleep before his head could make a dent in the pillow.

  chapter Eight

  Wild Things Going On

  Zach’s name was not in any of the Reno Police Department files. They suggested he check with the Sheriff’s Office.

  The desk sergeant in the Washoe County Sheriff’s Department called the detective who acted as the liaison with Child Protection service, to the front after Kyle told him why he was there.

  “I’m Kyle Thompson,” Kyle told him. He showed him the photo. “I’m looking for my son. He ran away from his home in Phoenix about six weeks ago. I got word he was heading this way. Something about a battle of the bands.”

  ““That was a bad scene,” the officer said. “Drugs were everywhere. We had fights, one knifing, and so much prostitution we ran out of space to keep them. It lasted about two weeks before most of them drifted away. He checked his files, but there was nothing on Zach. Another officer came in, just off patrol. The sergeant called him over. “Clyde, what was the name of that place over near Steamboat Springs where we had all of the trouble when that band thing was going on?”

  “Are you talking about the Sugar Ranch?” the officer named Clyde asked.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. The Sugar Ranch. It’s a run-down old farm. There’s usually a bunch of hippies and druggies crashing there.”

  “Can you tell me how to get there?” Kyle asked.

  Clay said he could, and gave directions to Steamboat Springs and the place known as the Sugar Ranch. He said, “The last I heard, the place was run by a man named Ray. The people staying there panhandle to pay him.”

  Kyle spent the afternoon in the car. He checked out the other places in the Reno area considered likely places. Nothing turned up, so he returned to the Marriott.

  He called Susannah. “Nothing good to report yet. Reno didn’t have anything, but the Sheriff’s Office told me about a place near here, and I’m going to run over there in the morning.

  “I wish you had come with me. It would be nice to have someone to talk to,” he said.

  “I kind of wish I had too,” she said. “I should have. To tell the truth, I was a bit leery about going off with you, when I don’t really know you that well. We never ran in the same crowd back in school. To tell the truth, I didn’t run with any crowd. “

  He laughed. “I usually followed Ashley’s lead. I was thinking about that earlier. We did whatever she wanted to do. I don’t know that I was ever asked what I wanted to do. It probably wouldn’t have mattered, though. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be with her.”

  “You had it bad, didn’t you?” she asked.

  “I guess I did. I kept calling her while I was in school, but she wouldn’t talk to me,” he said.

  “You should have called me. I would’ve talked to you,” she said with a wistful tone to her voice.

  “Who was your boyfriend back then,” he asked.

  “I didn’t have one,” she said. “I dated a boy off and on in college, but having to work didn’t leave me much spare time for dating.”

  “Promise not to get mad and I’ll tell you something funny,” he said.

  “Ooh, this sounds ominous. Okay, I promise,” she said.

  “My recollection of you is you always had a book in your hand. I figured you would probably be a librarian or a teacher,” he said.

  “You mean a boring job for a boring person,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude and uncalled for. Anyway, you shocked me when you opened the door.”

  “Good,” she said. “I think I’ve always been a bit of an introvert. I used to envy Ashley being so popular. She was at ease with everyone. Look where that got her. She was stupid to let you get away. In the long run, it killed her. I know that sounds cold, but she was searching for something and didn’t find it. Maybe it was you.”

  “I’d hate to think what you just said is true. I don’t need any more guilt,” he said.

  “So now it’s my turn to ask you not to get mad. You’ve been home now, what, a year? I haven’t heard you mention anyone. Why not?” she asked.

  “I guess I was searching for something or someone. Would you like to apply for the job?” he asked.

  “I might,” she said.

  There was silence from Kyle’s end of the line.

  A few seconds later… “You shocked me again,” he said.

  “So, I’m not the mousy librarian you thought I was, huh?” she asked.

  “I’m still trying to process the “I might” bit, where do I send the application form?” he asked.

  “How about we do a face to face interview?” she asked.

  “That works for me.”

  They talked long into the night. They shared likes and dislikes. Susannah told Kyle about working her way through college, starting out as a waitress in a local restaurant. She told him how she had gotten a job in a large furniture store, working with one of their decorators. “It was that summer I learned I really like decora
ting, and discovered I had a knack for it. I changed my major the next semester.”

  “What were you majoring in before?” he asked.

  “I knew you were going to ask that,” she said, her laugh low and throaty. “Library Science. I was going to be the Longmont version of Marian the Librarian.”

  “So I wasn’t that far off base, was I?” he asked.

  Kyle had moved from the sofa to the bed. Her soft, sexy voice was lulling him to sleep. “As much as I’m enjoying this, if I’m going to be at my best this morning, I had better get a little sleep.”

  “This morning? What time is it anyway. Two o’clock? I don’t believe this. I never talk this much. I enjoyed it too. Good luck this morning, and good night; or, is it good morning?”

  “Good night, Susannah. You took my mind off my problems. Thank you. I’ll call if I learn anything.”

  They disconnected, Kyle lay there staring at the ceiling. This could get complicated, he thought just before his eyes closed and he was asleep.

  A thousand miles away, Susannah undressed and got into bed. Be careful Susannah. Don’t get hurt was her last thoughts before she too fell asleep.

  chapter Nine

  He Was Here

  Kyle had no problems following the directions given him by the Sheriff’s Office. What he saw when he got there was appalling. The old farmhouse was dilapidated. The side of the porch had fallen in, and there were two boards missing from the steps. He hesitated before going further, but decided he needed to do it.

  His knock was answered by a girl with dirty, stringy hair. Her dress was ragged and several sizes too large. She did not appear to be wearing a bra. She stood in the doorway, her arms dangling by her side, a vacant look in her eyes.

  “Is Ray here,” he asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  “I’m not a cop, I promise. I’m just looking to talk to Ray for a few minutes,” he said.

  She still didn’t speak, but turned and walked away, leaving the door standing open. Three minutes later a man came to the door. His hair fell in greasy strings to the neck of the sleeveless undershirt he wore. His pants hung low on his scrawny hips. “I’m Ray. Whatchoo want, Bro?” he asked.

  “My name’s Kyle Thompson. I’m looking for my son. Would you take a look at this picture and see if you recognize him, please.”

  Ray took the picture and held it in front of his face, moving it back and forth to get it in focus. He handed it back to Kyle. “He was here. Ain’t no more.”

  “How long ago did he leave?” Kyle asked. “Did he say where he was going?” Kyle asked.

  “Why don’t you just go back where you came from?” Leave the kid alone. He’s just trying to connect with his dead mother.”

  “He’s my son. I just found out about him a few days ago. I’m trying to help him,” Kyle said.

  “How come you know about this place, anyway?” Ray asked, his suspicions growing.

  “I stopped at the Sheriff’s Office and they gave me directions.”

  “Get off my property,” Ray said. “I don’t talk to nobody that has anything to do with the law.”

  Two brawny men wearing muscle shirts and jeans came up. “He giving you trouble, Ray?” one asked.

  “Yeah, the law sent him. Put him in his car and get him out of here.” Ray turned and went back into the house.

  One of the men pinned Kyle’s arms to his sides while the other punched him in the gut several times. They picked him up by his arms and dragged him to the car and shoved him inside.

  “If you come nosing around here again, we won’t let you off so easy,” one said.

  Kyle started the car and drove slowly away. Out of sight of the old farmhouse, he stopped the car, opened the door and leaned out, and threw up his breakfast onto the dirt road.

  It hurt to breathe, so he decided he had better go to the emergency room. X-rays showed he had two cracked ribs. “I don’t see any other damage,” the doctor said. I’ll tape them up. You’re going to be uncomfortable for a few days, but I think you’ll be okay.

  Kyle was trying to get his shirt on when a deputy walked in. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked. Kyle described the events at the farmhouse.

  “We could charge them with assault, but by the time we get out there, those two will have disappeared and no one will have ever heard of them.”

  “Just let it go, deputy. I’m leaving anyhow.”

  Back in his hotel room, Kyle’s pain was intense. The doctor had given him a prescription for vicodin to ease the pain. He took one of the pills and the pain began to ease. He sat on the side of the bed. He was angry and feeling sorry for himself. What the hell am I doing here? I’ve flown hundreds of miles looking for a kid I’ve never met. I just got the shit kicked out of me. I should just pack it in and go home

  He didn’t call Susannah. Instead, he took a small bottle of wine the hotel had put in the small refrigerator in the room.

  The vicodin he had taken, coupled with the wine made him sleepy. He lay on the bed and fell asleep. He dreamed of the boy in the burning hooch again. As the flames consumed the boy, the building exploded. He sat up on the bed, and groaned from the pain in his ribs. In addition to the pain in his rib cage, he had a splitting headache.

  A thought came to him. Susannah must be worried sick. He hadn’t called. He got his iPhone and keyed in her number. He let it ring until the answering machine picked up. He left a message, telling her he was going on to California, where the last call from Zach originated.

  He filed a flight plan for Eureka-Arcata Airport. He got the weather, and preflighted the 310 which had been serviced as he had requested. Two hours after he broke ground, he landed at the Eureka-Arcata airport.

  He rented a car and drove to the police department. He asked the desk sergeant for the officer assigned to missing children. An officer came in and introduced himself as Tim Corley.

  Kyle showed him the photos. “Mr. Thompson, why are you looking for this boy?” asked Officer Corley.

  Once more, Kyle explained the circumstances. Corley said, “Sir, would you come with me please?”

  He led the way to a small interrogation room and asked Kyle to have a seat. “There’s no easy way to do this,” Officer Corley said.

  “There’s a lake near here where the kids go to have drug parties. We found several bodies there two days ago. Looks as though they may have gotten some pure stuff and overdosed. One of them could be the boy in the picture. They’re in the morgue. I can take you there if you like.”

  “Let me call his aunt first. I’ve never seen him before, so I don’t know if I could make a positive ID.” Kyle replied.

  “Do you want to use our phone?”

  “No, the caller ID would scare her.” He took out his phone and punched in her number. This time she answered.

  “Where are you,” she asked. “You didn’t call.”

  “I did call and I left a message. You didn’t get it? I’m in Arcata, California. Are you alone?”

  “Of course I’m alone. What? You think I’m having a party or something?”

  Kyle could tell she was angry from the tone of her voice. “Listen, I’m at the Arcata Police Department. They found several bodies near a lake where the kids hang out, and do drugs. The Officer says one of them could be Zach.” He heard the sharp intake of breath and the sounds of disbelief.

  “I’m coming there. I’ll rent a car and get there as soon as I can. Wait for me before you do anything, please? I don’t have any idea how far it is or how long it will take me to get there, but I will be there. Please, Kyle?”

  “No. Now here’s what I want you to do. I want you to pack a bag for several days, and then go to the Transient Lounge at the FBO, that’s the Fixed Base Operator. Ask a security guard if you need to. It’s not too far from the main terminal and there are signs. It will take me four hours to get there. I’ll come in to get you when I get there.”

  “No, I’ll drive. I’ll need a car,” she said.


  “Susannah, listen to me. I have a car. It would take you eighteen to twenty hours, stopping only for gas to get here. You’ll kill yourself if you try to do that. I’ll have you here in eight or nine hours. We can do this together. I want us to do this together,” he said.

  Silence.

  Susannah, will you do what I’m asking?”

  “Yes,” came the soft voice, muffled by sobs.

  “Susannah, I’m asking you the same way you asked me. Do you promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.” She said.

  “Good, I’ll see you in four hours give or take a few minutes,” he said.

  He called the airport to make sure the 310 was serviced and ready to go. He filed a flight plan, did the usual walk-around, and climbed into the cockpit. Ground control gave taxi instructions and cleared him for a straight out departure.

  Once airborne, he activated his flight plan and leveled off at his assigned altitude on the assigned airway. He checked in with the Oakland ARTCC, and set his transponder to squawk the required code. He set the auto-pilot and took out his iPhone, with full confidence he was under the watchful eye of a controller in the Oakland Center. He called his father and updated him on the situation.

  “Good luck, son, and be careful.” His father always told him to be careful when he was flying. It was his way of coping with the hazards of aviation as they applied to his son.

  “Always, Pop. Always. Did you tell Mom?”

  “You know I did. Would you want to keep her in the dark about something like this? Me neither. I have to sleep in the same room with her, and there’s a .38 in the nightstand. Clear skies and smooth air, son.”

  “I’ll keep you posted, Dad.

  Three hours and forty two minutes after liftoff, Kyle was taxiing to the FBO fueling station. He told the attendant to fill the tanks and check the fluids. He walked into the terminal.

  He walked over to the forlorn figure sitting in one of the chairs, staring at, but not seeing the television mounted on the wall.

  “Susannah…”

  chapter Ten

  I’m Here