Guardian Cowboy

by Carla Cassidy

  “We’ve got to find her, Cassie,” he said.

  “We will,” she replied firmly. “You’ve already set in motion a search team and Dillon is working the neighborhood around the motel. Hopefully somebody will either come back with her or with answers as to where she might be.”

  “I want to be out there searching for her, but I feel like my place is here right now.”

  She covered one of his hands with hers, her blue eyes gazing at him earnestly. “Sawyer, you’ve got the best men out looking for her right now. You know the cowboys will do anything in their power to bring her home to you.” She pulled her hand back.

  “I know.” He wrapped his cold fingers around the coffee mug. “I love her, Cassie. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone before in my life.”

  “I’m happy for you, Sawyer, and we’re all determined to find her.”

  He nodded and turned his gaze toward the door.

  Dusk had fallen and, all too soon, night would arrive. He couldn’t imagine the darkness of night falling without her. He wished he could somehow hold back the night until she was safe and sound in his arms once again.

  It didn’t take long before everyone who had come to the bar for an evening of fun and drinking discovered one of their favorite waitresses was missing.

  Sawyer hadn’t realized just how many friends he’d made over his years in Bitterroot, and Janis had just as many. Familiar faces appeared, asking what they could do to help.

  Gary cut the menu items and drinks to half price and, while Sawyer appreciated everyone who was showing up to help, the only person he wanted to see was Janis or, at the very least, one of his cowboys coming back with vital information.

  Tony was the first one back. “Myles was at home. He invited me inside and appeared genuinely horrified when I told him Janis was missing. Sorry, Sawyer, but I don’t think he’s your man.”

  Sawyer nodded. He hadn’t really believed it was somebody who didn’t work at the bar. Myles had been a long shot.

  “I’m going to drive around and ask questions and see what I can find out,” Tony said.

  “Thanks,” Sawyer replied. “I’m going to just step outside to get a breath of fresh air.”

  He followed Tony outside and watched as he got into his truck and pulled away.

  Night had arrived and the darkness threatened to seep into Sawyer’s heart and consume him.

  He told himself it was far too early to lose hope, but nobody knew exactly what time she had gone missing.

  Had she been kidnapped an hour before Sawyer had arrived at her motel room? Or had somebody taken her minutes after he’d spoken to her that morning?

  Drawing in a deep breath of fresh air, once again tears burned hot at his eyes. He didn’t care if she loved him or not. All he wanted was for her to be safe and sound.

  The tears burned hotter and hotter and a sob escaped him. Was she dead? Had she been murdered by the man who wanted her all to himself? Would the sick bastard decide that by killing her he could somehow possess her forever?

  Oh, God, the tears trekked down his cheeks at the dark thoughts. He walked to the side of the building and hunched over, unsure if he was going to choke on the tears or throw up.

  He’d let her down. He’d promised he’d keep her safe, but he’d failed her. Damn it, he should have insisted he stay with her at the motel. He should have never left her there alone for even a minute.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been quietly weeping when Dillon’s car pulled up.

  Sawyer wiped the tears from his cheeks and drew in a deep breath. These were the only moments of weakness he would allow himself, he thought. He had to stay strong. He had to stay in control to see this through.

  “You got anything for me?” he asked Dillon as he came around the corner of the building.

  In the light spilling out of the bar window he saw Dillon grimace. “We canvassed the area around the motel and asked questions to see if anyone saw a vehicle parked at the motel or Janis being taken out of the room.”

  “Let me guess, nobody saw anything.”

  “Right,” Dillon said. “Cassie told me you were handling a search effort from here.”

  “I’ve got men out hunting down anyone who is an employee here but isn’t at work tonight,” Sawyer replied.

  Dillon clapped him on the back. “Let’s go inside and you can fill me in.”

  Minutes later the two men were seated at a table. Cassie brought Dillon a cup of coffee and refilled Sawyer’s cup, and then stood like a blond-haired sentry keeping others away from their table so the two of them could talk alone.

  Sawyer told him which cowboy he had sent to check on who and that he was just waiting for the men to check in. “I couldn’t have taken care of things here better myself,” Dillon said. “I’ve got all my men driving the streets. I mean, maybe she wasn’t taken from that room. Maybe she hit her head and is wandering the streets and suffering from some sort of amnesia.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Sawyer asked dryly.

  Dillon drew in a deep breath. “No. Let’s hope one of those cowboys of ours returns with something for us.”

  Within an hour most of them had returned. Rusty Bratton was at home playing video games with a friend. Widower Damon West had also been at home and in bed alone. Everyone was where they were expected to be except James, the maintenance man, and Miguel, the cook. There was no sign of either of the men.

  Dillon called two of his officers and told them to sit on the houses belonging to the men.

  “James was in here to clean last night, but I haven’t heard from Miguel since we had the staff meeting,” Gary said. “But then, he wasn’t on the schedule to work.”

  “If either of those men has harmed a hair on her head, I’ll kill them,” Sawyer said with dark menace.

  “They have to go home sooner or later and, when they do, they’ll have a lot of questions to answer,” Dillon said.

  “And in the meantime?” Sawyer asked.

  “In the meantime we keep men out on the streets pounding the pavement and asking questions. That’s all we can do right now.”

  The minutes ticked by in agonizing slowness. Sawyer paced... He prayed and felt his hope attempt to drift away.

  At midnight the bar closed for business but remained open as the point of contact for anything relating to Janis’s disappearance.

  “I’m leaving the bar keys with Dillon,” Gary said when it was almost one in the morning. “I’ve got to go home and get some sleep.”

  Everyone who left the place looked like they needed sleep. Despite the fear that had been an unrelenting companion to Sawyer, even he felt exhaustion tugging at him.

  “Sawyer, why don’t you head on home?” Dillon suggested. “I’ll call you if anything breaks here.”

  “No way. I’m not leaving here until she’s found,” he replied. “I’ll go back in her room and stretch out for a little while.”

  Wearily, he rose from the table and headed for the room Janis had called home. Gary’s little bouquet of flowers sat on the nightstand. It was a bunch of daisies in an oversize smiley-face cup.

  God, he was such a mess, he even resented the happy face on the small vase. He moved it across the room next to the coffeemaker and then stretched out on the bed.

  Instantly he was overwhelmed by grief. The scent of her was still in the sheets and he imagined he could feel the heat from her body.

  She had to still be alive. She just had to be. He wasn’t even close to being ready to tell her goodbye.

  He closed his eyes, but he knew sleep wouldn’t come. His mind was too busy working everything over, seeking clues or possibilities that might have been overlooked, anything that could bring her home.

  He rolled over and stared at the wall where he knew the peepholes were located. “I’m going to find you, you bastar
d,” he said aloud. “I’m going to find you and then I’m going to kill you.”

  * * *

  Sawyer awakened at just after five in the morning. He hadn’t slept but an hour or so and he absolutely hated himself for nodding off at all.

  He left Janis’s bedroom and went into the kitchen to make coffee. Dillon was still in the bar, slumped back in a booth and asleep.

  Sawyer stood at the coffee machine, watching the dark brew drip into the carafe. She’d been gone all night. Nobody had seen anything. Nobody had heard anything. She’d been gone all night and they didn’t know where to begin to look for her.

  He’d fallen asleep with the taste of fear in his mouth, and it was still there, just as strong and acrid as ever. The horror that she was gone still resonated deep inside him.

  What wasn’t as strong as it had been in the initial hours following her kidnapping was hope. Although it was still a faint glimmer deep in his heart, it had lost the full flame of complete confidence.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee then turned and nearly jumped out of his skin. Dillon stood in the doorway. “Geez, man. You scared the hell out of me,” he said.

  “Sorry, I smelled the coffee.”

  “Do you smell my pain? My fear?” Sawyer asked and then grimaced. “Sorry, I know you’re on my side.”

  “It’s all right. I’m surprised you haven’t completely exploded by now.” He moved to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

  “I’m normally not the exploding kind, but if anything will make me become that kind of man, it’s this. James didn’t come in last night?”

  “No, he’s still on the MIA list, but Miguel snuck in around two. He confessed he’s in the country illegally and didn’t want to get involved in any investigation of any kind. But the last thing he wanted was for us to believe he’s responsible for whatever happened to Janis. He told me he’d rather be deported than have this town believe that of him.”

  “He’s been a resident of Bitterroot for a long time. Are you going to turn him in to the appropriate authorities?”

  Dillon frowned. “Right now Miguel’s status is the last of my concerns. As soon as we get some men rounded up, I want an all-out assault on this town to find James. He’s the only person who works here that we haven’t been able to check his alibis.”

  “And it’s damned suspicious that he’s gone missing at the same time as Janis.”

  “Exactly.” Dillon motioned for the two of them to leave the kitchen. They settled back in the booth where Dillon had been snoozing.

  “I’ve got a team of my officers coming in at six, but I’ll be honest with you, the extra help from the men from the ranch doesn’t hurt.”

  “I can have them back here with a single phone call,” Sawyer replied. “What do we know about James?”

  “He’s fifty-seven years old. He’s been divorced for the past ten years and lives in a small ranch house on Oak Street. According to his neighbors, he hasn’t been home for a couple of days, but they also say that isn’t particularly unusual for him. A couple of times a month he isn’t at home for a few days.”

  “So where does he go when he isn’t at home?” A gnaw of urgency was once again in the pit of Sawyer’s stomach.

  “Nobody knows.”

  “How positive are we that he’s not in the house? Can’t you make a case for a search warrant?” Sawyer leaned forward. “She could be in that house right now, Dillon, while we’re sitting here drinking our coffee.” The very idea was torturous for Sawyer.

  Dillon frowned once again. “We don’t have any concrete evidence to tie him to anything and she hasn’t even been missing for twenty-four hours yet, but maybe I can make a case to Judge Dickenson to get a warrant on circumstantial evidence.”

  “Then do it, man,” Sawyer exclaimed.

  Forty-five minutes later Dillon had a search warrant in hand and he and Officer Ben Taylor were ready to leave to execute it.

  “Don’t even think you’re going over there without me,” Sawyer said fervently. “I can either ride with you or get there under my own steam, but I will be there when you get inside.”

  Dillon frowned. “Okay, you can come with us, but I don’t want you getting in our way or firing your gun for any reason.”

  “Got it,” Sawyer replied but he didn’t make a promise. If James had Janis someplace in his house and he’d hurt her, then all bets were off as to whether Sawyer would fire his gun or not.

  He got into the back of Dillon’s car, a wave of anticipation rushing through him. The sun was just coming up in the eastern sky, splashing ribbons of pink and orange across the horizon.

  They should have done this last night, he thought as Dillon backed out of the parking space in front of the bar. They should have stormed James’s home in the dark of night. But he doubted that Dillon would have been able to get a search warrant then. It had been too soon.

  The last thing Sawyer wanted was anything a defense lawyer could use to keep the perp out of jail. Everything had to be done by the book to assure not only an arrest but also a conviction.

  Now Sawyer couldn’t wait to get to the house. He prayed that Janis was there, unharmed but a prisoner. He wanted to rescue her and hold her in his arms. He wanted to smell the scent of her hair, feel the warmth of her body next to his. He ached with his need of her.

  Nobody spoke as they drove the couple of blocks to the house on Oak Street. Sawyer leaned forward, straining against his seat belt as if that somehow could make them arrive faster.

  He was out of the car at the house before Dillon had turned off the engine. As he waited for Dillon and Ben to get out of the car, he stared at the house.

  It was a small ranch, painted dull beige, with dark green shutters. There were no lights on to indicate anyone was at home, but it was still early. It was quite possible James was a late sleeper since he worked in the wee hours of the night at the bar. But he hadn’t showed up for work last night.

  Sawyer was just behind Dillon when he approached the front door. Ben had gone around to the back of the house to make sure nobody exited that way. Dillon knocked. Firm, loud knocks that would raise the dead. “James, it’s Chief Bowie. Open the door,” he shouted.

  No reply. He knocked again and still nobody answered the door. “Stand back,” he said.

  Sawyer took a step back and Dillon kicked the door. Once...twice...and, on the third time, it popped open with a crack of broken wood.

  Dillon drew his gun, as did Sawyer, and together they entered into a small foyer. Sawyer’s heart pounded in his chest as they walked into the living room.

  The room was neat and clean with a dark brown sofa and matching recliner. There was a television mounted on the wall above a short bookshelf.

  In the kitchen everything appeared to be in order. In the dish drainer next to the sink was one dinner plate and one glass. Still Sawyer’s nerves jangled and his heart was in his throat as they moved down the hallway where all of the doors in the three-bedroom house were closed.

  He held his gun steady as Dillon opened the first door and swept inside. A whoosh of disappointment left him as he saw a neatly made bed and a dresser. It was obviously a guest room and there was no sign that Janis had ever been there.

  When they had checked every single room and every closet or hiding place, a bitter disappointment welled up inside Sawyer. It was a disappointment so great he wanted to weep.

  James had been their biggest suspect. If he wasn’t guilty, then who?

  “Does he own any other property?” he asked Dillon as they drove back to the bar.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Dillon replied. “But I’d have to check with Suzie Anderson.” Suzie had become city clerk a month before. Sawyer didn’t personally know her but he desperately hoped she could help them.

  When they returned to the bar, Dillon called Suzie and asked for any informatio
n she could give them concerning James owning any other property in town. She promised to get back to them as soon as she could.

  By seven o’clock, not only were there patrolmen out looking for James, but also several of the Holiday Ranch cowboys had returned to help in the search.

  Once again Sawyer found himself in a torturous waiting game that made him want to scream in frustration. It was just after nine when Suzie called Dillon to tell him there was nothing on file that indicated James owned any other property but the house where he lived.

  “We need to be checking all the empty barns and vacant houses in the area,” Sawyer said to Dillon. The idea of Janis tied up and lying on a bed of moldy old hay filled his head. He shook his head to dispel the horrifying vision.

  “I’ve already got men doing that,” Dillon replied. “We’re all doing whatever we can, Sawyer.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I’m going to step outside for a few minutes.” He got up from the booth and headed to Janis’s room, deciding he’d stand just outside her door.

  He needed to escape the bar’s interior for a few minutes. It had begun to feel like utter hopelessness inside those walls. He stepped outside and saw somebody run around the side of the building.

  What the hell? Who would be out there skulking around? Adrenaline spiked through him as he took off running. He turned the corner and saw James.

  Sawyer grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him up against the side of the building.

  “Where is she?” Sawyer had his face so close to James’s he could see the large pores in the man’s nose.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance,” James said frantically.

  “What are you doing hiding out back here?” Sawyer wanted to bash his head into the wall. He needed James to be guilty. Damn it, he desperately wanted to believe that James could tell him where Janis was.

  “I was hoping to catch Dillon all alone.” James struggled to escape Sawyer’s tight grasp on his shirt, but Sawyer held on tight.

  “Where in the hell have you been?” Sawyer asked, his frustrated anger and fear peaking.