by Rita Herron
“Yes.” Ryder clenched his jaw. “How did you know that? And how did you find me?”
Cash shrugged. “My—our—brothers have been looking for you awhile. Ray’s a private investigator and Maddox used his connections in the sheriff’s department to expedite the search.”
Ryder gritted his teeth. What did you say to a brother you didn’t know you had? “Do you want a beer or something?”
A small grin tugged at Cash’s mouth. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Ryder grabbed two cold ones from the refrigerator just to have something to do. He knew how to handle hardened criminals, but he had no idea how to handle this situation.
When he turned back, Cash was watching him. “Sorry for just showing up here.” He popped the top of the beer and took a sip. “But once Ray found you, I...had to see for myself.”
Ryder gave a nod of understanding, then gestured toward the back deck. It offered a great view of the woods and was his favorite spot to think and unwind after a case.
He and Cash stepped outside, a breeze stirring the warm air. Ryder claimed the rocker and Cash settled on the porch swing. It creaked back and forth as he pushed it with his feet, the silence between them thick with questions and the revelation that they were identical twins but also strangers who knew nothing about each other.
He sipped his beer, stalling.
“So how did you grow up?” Cash finally asked.
Ryder heaved a wary breath. “I was adopted by a couple named Troy and Myra Banks. They told me I was adopted when I was little, but not about my birth family.”
Cash’s jaw tightened.
“You weren’t adopted?”
Cash shook his head. “Nope, I was sickly. Bounced from foster home to foster home.”
Guilt gnawed at Ryder. “That must have been rough.”
“I survived,” Cash said, although the gruffness of his voice hinted that it had been tough.
No wonder Cash had welcomed the McCullen brothers.
“So how did you find out about the McCullens?” Ryder asked.
A sardonic chuckle escaped Cash and he swallowed another sip of beer. “A few months ago I got arrested. Maddox and Brett and Ray showed up at my bail hearing. Took me home with them and paid for my defense.”
Ryder narrowed his eyes. “Just like that? No strings attached?”
Cash frowned. “Well, Maddox made it clear that if I was guilty he wouldn’t cover for me. But they investigated and helped me clear my name.”
Ryder stared at the sliver of moon trying to peek through the trees.
“Your turn,” Cash said. “How did you find out about the McCullens?”
Ryder silently cursed. “After my dad died, I became curious and did some digging. Finally I asked my mom.”
“You mean your adopted mother?”
“Same thing,” Ryder said, his loyalty to the woman who’d raised him kicking in. “She told me what happened.”
Cash narrowed his eyes. “She told you that you were kidnapped, that your real mother died trying to find you?”
Ryder locked his jaw and debated what to say. But he refused to lie. “Not exactly.”
“Then what did she tell you?”
Ryder leaned forward, arms braced on his thighs as he studied Cash. “That the McCullens needed money to expand their ranch, so they made a deal with a lawyer and sold me.”
A startled look passed across Cash’s face. “What? Damn, that’s not the way it happened.”
“How do you know?” Ryder asked. “We were both babies at the time.”
Cash scraped a hand over his face, drawing Ryder’s gaze to the long scar on his forehead. Ryder’s gut pinched. How had he gotten that?
Cash settled his Stetson on his lap. “That’s right, but once the McCullens found me, they explained everything. It’s a long story. The doctor who delivered us made a mistake with another delivery, a mistake that cost another couple their child. That baby’s father stole us from the hospital to replace the child he lost, and the doctor covered out of guilt. He told our parents that we were stillborn.”
Shock rolled through Ryder. “That’s the story the McCullens told you?” Ryder said, well aware his comment sounded like an accusation. “How do you know it’s true?”
Cash sucked in a sharp breath. “Because Maddox investigated. That doctor remained friends with the McCullens, especially Joe, our father. He finally admitted what happened—that Mom was murdered because she didn’t believe we’d died and because she was searching for us. Dunn, the man who’d taken us, killed her to cover up the truth.”
Ryder’s mind raced. “If that’s true, why didn’t the man who kidnapped us raise us?”
Cash grunted. “Apparently his wife figured out what he’d done and insisted he take us back to the McCullens. The man was afraid of being arrested, so he dropped us off at a church instead.”
Ryder swallowed hard. But Myra and Troy Banks claimed they’d gotten him from an attorney and led him to believe the McCullens orchestrated the deal. They hadn’t mentioned anything about a church.
Ryder stood and walked to the edge of the deck. A wild animal growled from the woods. He could almost see its predator eyes glowing in the dark.
“Last year, our father, Joe, realized what had happened. He started looking for us, too. Then he was murdered.”
Ryder drained his beer. “Listen, Cash, it sounds like you had a rough childhood. I’m sure it feels good to think the McCullens want you.” He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it over his chest. “But I have a family—a mother, at least. And I don’t want or need the McCullens in my life.”
Emotions wrestled in Cash’s eyes. He’d obviously thought Ryder would be thrilled to learn about his roots.
Ryder might—if he didn’t already know the real story. Of course the McCullen brothers wouldn’t admit that their parents had been greedy enough to trade two of their children for money.
Cash removed a manila envelope from the inside of his jacket. He laid it on the coffee table. “Inside are letters and cards our mother wrote to you. I have an envelope just like it.”
Ryder raised a brow in question.
“She—our mother, Grace—wrote to us after we went missing. She bought cards for Christmases and birthdays. Read them and you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”
Without another word, Cash set his empty beer bottle on the table with a thud, then strode back through the house and outside. Ryder stared at the envelope, his heart pounding, until he heard Cash’s truck spring to life and chug away.
Anger and resentment mingled with doubt. He squashed the doubt. His mother loved him. She wouldn’t have lied to him.
He didn’t need any letters or cards or for his life to be disrupted by the McCullens.
He was fine on his own. He always had been. He always would be.
* * *
THE HOURS DRAGGED BY. Tia had felt alone when her family had died, but she’d never felt more alone than she did now, without her baby in her arms.
Her eyes felt gritty from staring at the ceiling of the jail cell, and her body ached from fatigue. But that discomfort was nothing compared to the emptiness inside her.
She might never see Jordie again.
She’d read stories about children who went missing and were never recovered. There were other accounts where the child was located years later but had bonded with whoever had raised them.
Jordie was only an infant. Babies changed every day. What if it took months or years to find him and she didn’t even recognize him?
She paced the cell for the millionth time, mentally retracing the events of the past couple of days.
Darren had moved out months ago. But he’d contacted her two weeks before she was due, offering to set up a fund for the baby—with her mo
ney. He wanted to invest in a surefire project that would double the money in a week’s time.
She had refused. At that point, she didn’t trust him. He’d already cleaned out her savings account and most of her checking account.
He could have kidnapped Jordan for revenge. Maybe he was even working with someone else.
Although if he’d taken Jordan because of the money, why hadn’t he asked for a ransom?
Everything was normal. He was eating and gaining weight. Although the doctor insisted he was too young to smile, he had smiled at her as she’d hugged him on the way back to the car.
Of course he’d had a fit when she put him in the car seat. Apparently he didn’t like to be confined.
The bars on the cell mocked her. Neither did she.
She closed her eyes and saw his little face again. So trusting. So sweet and innocent. He’d smelled like baby wash. He had her blue eyes and a full head of light-colored hair.
At the doctor’s office, two other mothers had commented on how beautiful he was. The nurse who’d delivered him, Amy Yost, had phoned to see how the checkup went. Tia had invited the young woman over for coffee the next day. They’d chatted and become friends. Amy suggested she and her three-year-old daughter, Linnie, get together more often.
After Amy left, Tia’s neighbor Judy Kinley had dropped by with brownies and a basket of goodies for Jordie—diaper wipes, baby washcloths, onesies and a blanket she’d crocheted herself.
Tia had enjoyed the visit but finally admitted that she needed a nap, that she’d been up half the night and maybe they could visit another day.
But none of those memories were helpful. She hadn’t seen anyone lurking around the house watching her. No strangers had come to the door. She hadn’t seen any cars following her. And she hadn’t received any odd phone calls.
She closed her eyes and flopped back on the cot, her head spinning. Just as she was about to drift to sleep, the sound of a baby crying echoed in her ears.
She jerked upright in search of Jordie and realized she was still in jail. Emotions racked her body.
She was no closer to finding her son than she had been the day before.
* * *
JUST AFTER DAWN, Ryder crawled from bed, irritated that he’d let thoughts of his conversation with Cash keep him awake. When he’d finally gotten the McCullens off his mind, Tia’s big blue eyes had haunted him.
He showered and shaved, then dressed and strapped on his holster. He called Darren Hoyt on his way out the door.
“Meet me at the Sagebrush jail in half an hour. If you aren’t there to file a report, I’ll assume you’re dropping the charges and I’ll release Miss Jeffries.”
He’d also fill Sheriff Gaines in on what he’d learned about Hoyt.
Then he wanted to search Tia’s house himself. Maybe the sheriff had missed a clue.
Storm clouds hovered in the sky, painting the woods a bleak gray and making the deserted land between his cabin and town look desolate. As he drove into town, he noted that the diner was already filling up with the breakfast crowd and several young mothers strolled their babies on the sidewalk and at the park while their toddlers and preschoolers ran and squealed on the playground.
He parked at the jail and went inside, his stomach clenching at the sight of another deputy at the desk. The old-timer had gray hair and a gut, and was slumped back in the chair, snoring like a bear.
Had he even checked on Tia?
Ryder rapped on the wooden desk. The man jumped, sending the chair backward with a thud as the edge hit the wall.
“Wha-what’s going on?” The man fumbled with his wire-rimmed glasses.
Ryder identified himself. “I need to talk to Sheriff Gaines.”
The man’s face grew pinched as he adjusted his glasses. “This about the prisoner?”
“Yes,” Ryder said between clenched teeth. “That and her missing child.”
The man yawned. “Sheriff’ll be in here soon. You can wait.”
Ryder opened his mouth to ask him what he knew about the missing baby case, but the door swung open and Darren Hoyt barreled in. His clothes were disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and he reeked of whiskey.
“I’m here,” Hoyt snapped. “Now let me sign those damn papers. I’ve got stuff to do.”
Ryder grabbed the man by the collar and led him to the corner.
“Listen to me, you jerk. I did some digging on you last night and I know about your past.”
“What are you talking about?” Hoyt growled. “I don’t have a record.”
“Not as Darren Hoyt, but you do under your real name.”
Panic flared on Hoyt’s face.
“Now, I suggest you tell me where Jordie Jeffries is.”
“I told you last night, I don’t know.” He flung his hand toward the door leading to the cells. “Go ask my ex. She’s the one that took the runt to her house.”
Ryder jammed his face into the man’s and gave him a warning look. “Because I don’t believe she did anything but love that baby. You, on the other hand are a dirtbag of a father, a con man and a criminal.”
Hoyt shook his head in denial. “That’s not true—”
“Yes, it is,” Ryder said coldly. “But if you confess and tell me where to find the baby, I’ll go to bat for you with the judge.”
“I don’t know where he is,” Darren screeched. “I swear I don’t.”
Ryder studied him for a long, frustrating minute. He wanted to beat the bastard until he confessed, but he couldn’t do that here, not with that deputy watching.
“If that’s true, prove it and drop the charges against Tia. The best way to find your son is for me to work with her.”
Hoyt’s breath rasped out. “You gonna watch her, see if she leads you to the baby?”
Ryder’s gut tightened, but the lie came easy. “Exactly. You do want your son found unharmed, don’t you?”
Hoyt’s eyes darted toward the deputy, then the door opened and Sheriff Gaines strode in.
“What’s going on?” the sheriff asked.
Ryder reluctantly released Hoyt. “Hoyt and I were just making a deal. He wants us to find his baby real bad.”
The sheriff’s eyebrows climbed his forehead as he jerked his head toward Hoyt. “That so?”
Hoyt nodded. Ryder patted his arm. “And you’re dropping the charges against Miss Jeffries, right?”
Hoyt hissed a curse word, then gave another nod. “Just tell that crazy bitch not to come near me again.”
Ryder barely resisted slugging the jerk. But he would keep Tia away from Hoyt for her own protection.
He gestured toward the deputy. “Please bring Miss Jeffries to the front.”
The older man ambled through the door, and Ryder turned to Gaines. “I need everything you have on this missing child case.”
“Wait just a damn minute,” Gaines said. “This is my jurisdiction.”
“Kidnapping is a federal offense. I’m officially taking over the case now.”
If he didn’t, Gaines would probably railroad Tia to prison and they’d never find her son.
Chapter Seven
Ryder watched as Hoyt stormed out the door. If the bastard cared about his baby, he’d be pushing him and the sheriff to find him.
Instead, Hoyt was more concerned with himself.
“Sheriff Gaines, did you search Tia’s house after she reported her child missing?”
Gaines shifted, his chin set stubbornly. “Of course.”
“What did you find?”
“Like I put in my report, the window was unlocked. No prints. No sign of foul play or that anyone had been in the house except Miss Jeffries.”
“Can I see that report?”
Gaines shoved a file fold
er from his desk toward Ryder. Ryder quickly skimmed the notes on Tia’s interview and photos of the empty crib and nursery.
“Did you take pictures when you searched the outer premises?”
Sheriff Gaines shook his head. “Wasn’t nothing to photograph.”
Ryder frowned. If an intruder had broken in, he would have expected to find something. Maybe footprints, brush disturbed.
He wanted to conduct his own search. “You can release her now.”
The sheriff glared at him. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
Ryder nodded. “Keep an open mind, Gaines. If Tia is innocent, whoever abducted her baby could be getting away.”
* * *
FOOTSTEPS ON THE concrete floor startled Tia. What was going to happen now? Was the sheriff or that agent taking her to court for a bail hearing?
Had one of them found Jordie?
An older deputy appeared, his scowl menacing. Keys jangled as he unlocked the cell.
She rubbed her wrists. Even though the agent had removed the handcuffs, she could still feel the weight of the cold metal. Was he going to handcuff her again?
“Let’s go,” the deputy barked.
Tia inhaled a deep breath, stood and crossed the floor to the cell door. The deputy gestured for her to follow him, but he surprised her by not cuffing her. Exhaustion pulled at her, but she held her head high.
Darren had depleted her checking and savings. If she needed bail money, she could ask her assistant at Crossroads to dip into their funds to bail her out.
But that was a last resort.
Except for paying herself a small salary, she never used the charity’s money for personal reasons.
But if her parents had been alive, they’d agree that she should do anything to find her baby.
When the deputy opened the door to the front office, she blinked at how bright it seemed, a reminder that life in prison meant missing fresh air and sunshine.
A shadow caught her eye, then the figure came into focus. Agent Banks.
Her lungs squeezed for air. If he hadn’t arrested her, she might find him attractive.
He was attractive. Tall, dark and handsome.
But he’d locked her up the night before and left her alone in jail when she should have been out looking for her baby.