Several yards away, the few dead leaves of a small oak tree still clinging to their branches fluttered on the cool breeze. He wanted to trust Mariah. Trust that she would write a story that wouldn’t share more than he was comfortable with, but she was a reporter—and reporters always wanted the nitty-gritty. The sensational story.
He’d never told a soul about the November night that Misty had died. About their stupid fight. After their senseless argument, he’d stood outside hollering at her, but the only sound he heard was clattering dead leaves rolling down the street in the brisk wind. Misty’s taillights disappeared in the dark as she sped around the corner, tires squealing. She was leaving him for another man, even though their baby was due in a few weeks. The pain of her betrayal was still there, although it had lessened over time, but the nagging thought that he couldn’t hold on to his wife still haunted him. If he’d been a Christian back then and more understanding and less demanding, would things have been different?
For years, he’d wondered who the man was who’d stolen his wife away. He’d probably never know. But in the end, they’d both lost, because Misty had crashed her car half an hour after she’d left him. She’d lived through the Cesarean but died shortly after.
He heaved a frustrated sigh, and Mariah glanced his direction. What did knowing who the other man was matter anyway? It was better to not know. At least this way he couldn’t channel his hurt and anger toward a specific person. As long as he didn’t think about those days too much, he was fine. Remembering the verse about taking every thought captive, he forced his mind to dwell on something else.
Shoving up his sleeve, he glanced at his watch. Two-thirty. Kelly would be picking Hailey up at school soon. He was anxious to hear how his daughter’s day had gone.
Mariah glanced up, a gentle smile curving her lips. “Can we go inside the barn? I’d like to check on Lilly.”
Jackson smiled. “That sure is a change from when you first arrived.”
She shrugged, her cheeks turning wine-colored. “I know my fear of horses seems irrational to you, but I have never been around them before.”
Reaching a hand toward her, he said, “I understand.”
“Isn’t that the house phone?”
Jackson cocked his head. “Yeah. If it’s important, they’ll call my cell. He wrapped his arm around Mariah’s shoulders and led her around the barn again, enjoying the feel of her tucked up against his side. As much as he’d tried to fight it, he was falling for her.
But he wasn’t sure she felt the same.
And what if she did?
Would he be man enough to keep her?
TWELVE
After checking on Lilly and looking over the damage to the inside of the barn, they drove out to the far pasture in the truck and checked the cattle and horses, which, much to his relief, had been okay. As Jackson parked the truck near the closed barn doors, he noticed Deuce’s old car was gone. That was weird, since he usually took a short nap this time of day.
And where was Justin? Jackson looked around as he and Mariah walked toward the house. He should have returned by now from taking several bridles with worn leather to Jimbo McKenzie’s for repair, but his car wasn’t there, either. Since Justin had started working for him, he had been extremely reliable. Jackson’s thoughts flicked back to Mariah questioning Justin’s loyalty, but just as quickly, he shoved them aside. Maybe he’d left a message on the phone. He reached in his pocket for his cell, but it wasn’t there.
The screen door screeched as he opened it, and he allowed Mariah to enter first. Gotta oil that soon. In the mudroom, he smacked his new hat against his leg to rid it of the dust it had collected then placed it on a hook. He shrugged off his long, black duster, hung it and then helped Mariah with her jacket. He walked into the kitchen, boots clunking on the tile floor. He stopped so quickly, she plowed into his back.
“Sorry. Why did you stop so fast?” She stepped around him and halted. “What happened here?”
The room looked as if a small tornado had blown through. Raw hamburger patties that Deuce must have prepared for supper sat on a tray on the counter. The kitchen reeked with the odor of partially sliced onions that sat on the cutting board. A can of soda pop sat on the counter, with glistening drops of condensation rolling down to form a puddle around its base.
Where was Deuce? His cook never ran off and left the kitchen looking like this. The man was meticulous to a fault. Mariah pulled a knife from the mayonnaise container, dropped it in the sink, then twisted the lid on the jar and put it in the refrigerator.
His gut tightened. “Something must have happened. Deuce would never leave things like this otherwise.”
“I know. He amazes me with how clean he keeps his kitchen. Kind of puts me to shame.” Mariah nibbled on her bottom lip. “Do you think maybe he ran to the store for something he needed for lunch?”
“He wouldn’t go off in the middle of fixing a meal. It takes too long to get to town and back. I’d better call and see what’s going on.” Jackson picked up the cordless phone, noting the flashing red light that indicated he had a message. He punched in his phone number and password, while Mariah pulled a piece of plastic wrap out of a box and covered the onions. “You have nine messages,” the recording said. Nine? That wasn’t good. Something definitely had happened.
Anxiety wrapped around him like a boa constrictor, choking off his breath at the franticness in Kelly’s voice. “Jackson, I—I can’t find Hailey. C-call me.”
His heart bucked. His gaze zipped across the room, verifying the time on the stove. School was well over, so she should be with Kelly now—and Ms. Garrett. Where was his little girl?
“What’s wrong?” Mariah asked as she shoved the plastic-wrapped hamburgers into the refrigerator. She closed the door and hurried across the room, laying her hand on his arm. “Your face just went white.”
Not responding, Jackson listened to the next message from Evan. “J.D., did you happen to come to town to get Hailey? Kelly’s ’bout to have a heart attack. She picked her and the bodyguard up after school and then they went to the ice cream parlor for a snack, but now she can’t find either one. You’ve got to let sis know if you have the munchkin. Kelly’s freaking out.” Evan’s nearly calm voice indicated he wasn’t too worried. He probably thought there was some kind of a mix-up. Jackson breathed a quick prayer, hoping that a misunderstanding was all that had happened. Had Ms. Garrett done something with Hailey? Had she felt threatened and hid his daughter? If so, why would she not have said something to Kelly?
He glanced at Mariah, his heart galloping ninety miles an hour. Worry tilted her eyebrows. She opened her mouth to say something, but he shook his head and punched the phone for the next message.
“Jackson, please.” His throat thickened at the frantic plea in his sister’s voice. “Tell me you’ve got Hailey. The whole town is looking for her. I’m getting scared.”
He’d heard enough. Ignoring the other messages, he slammed the phone in its cradle and grabbed Mariah’s hand. He snatched up his cell phone, which lay on the table where he’d eaten lunch. Of all the days to forget it. “Come on. We’re going to town.”
She tossed the dish towel in her other hand over a chair and hurried to keep up. “Jackson, what’s going on?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Hailey’s missing.”
“No! How could she go missing with Kelly and that bodyguard watching her? She’s probably just playing with one of her friends.”
“I pray that’s what happened, but I’ve got a bad feeling in my gut about this.” He shoved his hat on and grabbed his duster, not taking the time to put it on. Mariah stuffed her arms in her jacket as she followed him out the door.
In less than twelve minutes they made the normally twenty-minute drive to town. A crowd of people on foot and horseback gathered in front of the café. Al
l eyes turned in his direction as Kelly spotted his truck and jogged toward him, with Evan and the sheriff close on her heels.
Kelly’s anxious gaze scanned the inside of the vehicle as he pulled to a stop and quickly exited. “Tell me she’s with you. You picked her up and just forgot to tell me, right?”
Jackson put his hand on her shoulder to brace her for his response. “No, sis, I didn’t. I haven’t seen Hailey since you took her home with you last night.”
Kelly collapsed against him. “No! No.” Behind her, Evan’s face went pale.
As much as he wanted to comfort his sister, he needed action. His daughter—and her bodyguard—was missing.
Please, God, don’t let that be true. There’s got to be a miscommunication somewhere.
He eased Kelly away from him so he could look in her eyes. “Tell me what happened.”
“After school we stopped at Carmichael’s Ice Cream Parlor. I got to talking with Tammy Benson. Hailey had finished and said she had to use the restroom. Ms. Garrett followed her.” Kelly sniffed, and Mariah handed her a tissue. “I thought she’d be safe with Ms. Garrett.”
His sister glanced down at her feet then peeked up again with a look that made his blood run cold. “Hailey never came out, Jackson. I talked with Tammy for about five minutes. Then I realized neither Hailey nor Ms. Garrett had come back, so I went looking for them. I thought maybe Hailey was just playing with the water in the sink, like she does sometimes. But the bathroom was empty—and the back door was wide o-open—” Her voice cracked. Tears ran down her face and dripped onto her jacket. “They were both gone.”
He closed his eyes, unable to look at the pain etched on his sister’s face. Jackson felt a hand on his arm and knew Mariah was there, offering her silent support.
What do I do, Lord? Where’s my daughter? Did Ms. Garrett take her—or has something happened to both of them?
“I’m so sorry, Jackson. What are we going to do?” Kelly moved away from him and leaned against Evan’s arm then wiped her nose with the tissue.
“I’ve issued a BOLO,” Sheriff Parker said.
“What’s that?” Kelly asked. Evan wrapped an arm around her, and she cuddled into his side.
“A ‘be on the lookout’ bulletin. It’s been sent to law-enforcement offices all over Northeastern Oklahoma.” The sheriff turned back toward Jackson. “Kelly gave us Hailey’s most recent school photo—the one that she carried in her purse—and a description of what your girl and Ms. Garrett were wearing at the time of their disappearance. I also checked, and Ms. Garrett’s car is still parked at your brother and sister’s house, so it’s doubtful she kidnapped Hailey.”
Jackson’s gut twisted at the word kidnapped. He lifted his hat with a shaky hand and swiped the sweat pooling on his forehead in spite of the cool temperature. “Thanks, Todd. What else can we do?” Jackson clutched Mariah’s hand, needing her quiet support.
“Have you called the FBI? Issued an Amber Alert? Or notified the NCIC?” Mariah asked.
Sheriff Parker nodded. “I called the FBI, but they will only come if we know Hailey was taken across state lines. The Amber Alert will go out just as soon as we’ve made sure Hailey isn’t with any of her friends.”
Fists on hips, Mariah marched forward, almost right in the sheriff’s face. “But why wait? You’re losing valuable time.”
“There are standard protocols to follow. If Amber Alerts are issued too quickly and too often, people won’t take them as seriously. Like crying wolf. Once I’ve determined that Hailey isn’t with any of the people she knows, then I’ll proceed with the alert.”
Jackson pulled Mariah back to his side again and looked around at his friends. Most of the townsfolk had gathered in silent support. Trudy flashed him a smile that said “we’ll get her back.”
“Mariah mentioned something called the NCIS. What’s that?” Evan asked.
“It’s N-C-I-C. National Crime Information Center. They maintain missing-persons files,” the sheriff responded. “And I’ve already reported her since there’s no waiting period for that.” He turned to Jackson. “Tell me everything you know about this Ms. Garrett.”
Jackson started to respond, but all eyes shifted down Main Street as a black truck zoomed toward them and then suddenly skidded to a stop, slinging gravel onto the sidewalk in front of the barbershop. Lance plowed out of the cab and slammed his door. He marched toward Jackson with a determined look on his face. He grasped Jackson’s shoulder and gave it a shake. “I just heard. We’ll find her, J.D.”
His friend’s support meant more than Jackson could say. He nodded his appreciation, because he was certain his voice would crack if he spoke just then.
“Could she be with a friend? Or do you have reason to suspect someone...took her?” Lance asked, turning to the sheriff.
“She’s not with a friend. I hired a bodyguard to protect her, and she wouldn’t have allowed Hailey to go off with anyone. And she hasn’t reported in—” Jackson’s voice cracked.
Lance squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.
The sheriff cleared his throat. “We also discovered some physical evidence in the store.”
A muscle ticked in Lance’s jaw. “What kind of evidence?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. I’m waiting until a crime-scene analyst arrives from Tulsa. For now, I’ve got the area cordoned off.” The sheriff looked over the crowd. “We need to organize search parties. We’ve covered the town once, but let’s do it again. Pair off and expand the search to the outer edges of town. Check everything. Every nook. Every cranny. And nobody go off alone. We don’t know if this was an isolated incident or not.”
Jackson laid his head against the truck window. This couldn’t be happening. Could someone have a vendetta against him so strong that they’d take his daughter?
His gut twisted. Was she cold? Hurt? Dead— No! He wouldn’t think that. He’d search for her until he found her.
Hang on, baby. Daddy will find you.
Jackson looked at the blue sky. Just an hour ago things had been good, but now his daughter—the child he loved so much—was missing. His eyes burned. His heart ached. He needed the strength of his Father to endure this tragedy. He searched the Heavens as if he’d find an answer to his problem.
God, You’ve got to help me here. I don’t know what to do. How to handle this. Protect my little girl. Help her to not be afraid. Help me, Lord.
* * *
Mariah watched Jackson. His heart had to be breaking, but so far, he’d been stoic. His head was tilted toward the sky, his brow crinkled from his unspoken struggle. Was he seeking guidance and strength from God?
She edged around Lance and moved to Jackson’s side. He needed her. No, who was she kidding? She needed him—his steady strength. His immovable faith in God. Hailey wasn’t even related to her, yet her own misery was so acute, it was a physical pain.
Jackson glanced down and then tugged her toward him. In that quick glimpse into his sapphire eyes, Mariah caught the shimmer of unshed tears. It was her undoing. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. A tremble shook his body, matching her own.
“Shh. It’ll be all right. We’ll find her, honey,” he said.
“I’m supposed to be consoling you,” she mumbled into his flannel shirt.
Jackson leaned his head down. “You are. Just being here for me is a tremendous help.” He pressed his lips against her temple, sending her emotions whirling.
She loved this man! When it had happened, she didn’t know. Somehow, this gentle, steady man had slipped into her heart. She burrowed her face deeper into the strength of his chest and tightened her hold on him. If only she could protect him from the pain he must be feeling.
God, I’ve never put much stock in fathers, but if You’re real,
You’ve got to help Jackson find his daughter. If what he says about You is true, You can see all. You know where Hailey is. Protect her. Help her not to be afraid. Please keep her safe until we can find her. Please, God.
I don’t deserve for You to answer my request, but Jackson is a good man. He loves You. He doesn’t deserve the bad things that have happened, especially this.
“J.D., the detectives from Tulsa are here.” Sheriff Parker lifted his hat and rubbed his bald head.
Jackson gently pushed her away from him, giving her a smile of gratitude. Taking her hand, as if he still drew strength from her nearness, he laced his fingers through hers and walked toward a sandy-blond-haired man. Cocky described him. He looked more like a California surfer dude than a lawman. Dark glasses covered his eyes and rested on a golden-brown face.
“I’m Riley Kincaid, from the Tulsa office. I was just on my way back from vacation, so I don’t have much info on the case yet. You’re the parents?”
Mariah’s cheeks heated at his question. Jackson’s lips tugged upward into a melancholy grin, and he hiked one eyebrow, looking at her. His brief smile warmed her heart.
“I’m the father. Jackson Durant. This is Mariah Reyes, a reporter from Dallas.”
“Dallas?” Kincaid whistled through his teeth. He slipped off his sunglasses and eyed them with suspicion. “How did an out-of-state reporter get wind of this story so fast?”
“I was already here on assignment, covering another story,” Mariah interjected, staring straight into his striking blue eyes.
He folded his glasses and stuck them in the inside pocket of his black leather jacket. His attire didn’t hint at his job. Navy jeans hugged his solid legs and a light blue denim shirt emphasized his eyes.
“Is there somewhere we could talk more privately?”
“Let’s go to the café,” Sheriff Parker said. He pointed to Auntie’s Café.
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