by Rita Herron
Ryder made a mental note of the name. “You said he told you that my birth parents needed money, so they sold me in exchange for relinquishing custody.”
Frown lines creased her forehead. “Yes.”
Ryder had to tread carefully here. This woman loved him and had raised him. He couldn’t treat her like a suspect in an interrogation.
But...he had to know the truth. If she’d lied to him or if someone had lied to her...
He gestured toward the envelopes on the table. “That’s not true, Mom,” he said gruffly. “I know who my birth parents are now. The McCullens.”
His mother gasped. “You talked to them?”
He shook his head. “No, unfortunately they’re both dead.”
She rubbed her forehead with two fingers. “I don’t understand, Ryder.”
“They didn’t sell me,” he said bluntly. “I was kidnapped, stolen from them at birth, along with my twin brother.”
Shock and some other emotion resembling guilt streaked her face.
“You knew I had a twin,” Ryder said, his throat thickening. “Didn’t you?”
Pain and guilt darkened her eyes, then she turned away and wrapped her arms around herself as if she needed to physically hold herself together.
His anger mounted at her silence. “You did, didn’t you? You knew about Cash?”
She stiffened her spine. “We were told there were twins, but that one of them was sickly. And...your father didn’t think we could handle a sick child.”
“So it wasn’t about the money?” Ryder asked. “Not to the McCullens. And you and Dad lied about paying for me, so you could have taken Cash in, too.”
She shook her head, eyes wild with a myriad of emotions. “No, we did pay,” she said sharply. “That lawyer wanted a fee, and we used every ounce of our savings to adopt you. We couldn’t afford hospital bills for a sick baby and...we thought he’d find a place for your brother.”
Rage at the situation fueled Ryder’s temper. “But he didn’t, Mother.” Ryder stood, the glider screeching as it shifted back and forth. He walked to the door and looked out at the woods, needing air.
When he turned back to her, he slammed a curtain down over his face to mask his emotions. “Cash was tossed around from foster home to foster home. He never had a break.”
“You met him?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Yes, he came to see me.” The turmoil in Cash’s eyes taunted Ryder. “He never had a family, Mother, because you and Dad separated him from me.” He pounded his chest with his fist. “And before that, someone kidnapped me and Cash from our birth parents.”
Tears blurred her eyes. “I...don’t know what to say, son, except that I only knew what the lawyer told us. I raised you. I love you.”
Ryder jerked the envelopes from the table and pulled out the photograph of pregnant Grace McCullen, looking up at the sun.
“She was my mother, Cash’s mother, and she wanted us. She didn’t choose to give us up for adoption.”
“That can’t be true.”
“It is true, Mother. She kept cards and letters she wrote to us. She poured out her heart because she missed us and loved us.”
She shook her head in denial. “I’m sorry, Ryder, I had no idea...”
“Maybe not,” Ryder said. “But she—her name was Grace—Grace and Joe McCullen not only looked for us, Mother—they died trying to find us.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ryder sat in silence as his mother read the first letter. She wiped at tears as she picked up two of the cards and skimmed them.
“My God,” she said in a haunted whisper. “I...can’t believe this. I...really didn’t know, son.”
Ryder stood, gripping his coffee mug with clammy fingers. “Maybe not, but you should have told me I had a twin.” He faced her, his heart in his throat. “I had other brothers, too, Mother. And parents who grieved that I was taken from them.” Just as Tia was grieving.
She jammed the card she was reading back into the envelope. “I’m sorry, Ryder. I don’t know what else to say.”
He didn’t know what else to say, either.
Except the disappointment, sadness and regret for the McCullens—along with his own, for missing out on knowing his brothers—was eating him up inside.
Memories of arguments his mother and father had had when he was a child echoed in his head. His father had been harsh at times, demanding, had always pushed to get his way.
“I know Dad was a tyrant at times, Mother, and that you gave in to him. Do you think he knew the truth?”
She pressed her lips into a thin line. “How dare you disparage your father when he’s not here to defend himself, Ryder. He and I both loved you and we did the best we could.” She snatched the letters and cards and pushed them into his hands. “There’s nothing good to gain by harping on what happened years ago. I’ve told you the truth, and I’m done talking about this.”
Ryder crossed his arms. His mother could be stubborn. She’d always defended his father, even when she knew he was wrong. Now that he was dead, though, he hoped she’d think for herself.
“Fine, then you’re right. We’re done talking.” Furious and confused, he strode back through the house.
Even if his father had known about Cash and the kidnapping, Ryder couldn’t confront him. His father was dead.
But...the lawyer might have answers.
His phone buzzed as he sped from the driveway. Gwen.
Hopefully she had news for Tia. He’d also see what Gwen could find out about William Frost.
* * *
TIA WOKE TO find Ryder gone. Disappointment mingled with hope that he might be chasing a lead.
Groggy from too little sleep, she showered, scrubbing her hair vigorously to calm her nerves.
Her TV appearance had aired the night before.
Then that call...
But how had the caller gotten her personal cell phone number? They hadn’t released the number on TV.
Surely other reliable calls would come in. Someone who’d seen her baby. Someone who wanted that reward money badly enough to turn the kidnapper in, even if that person was a friend or someone he or she loved.
She checked her phone for missed calls or messages before drying her hair, but there were none.
Outside, she heard a noise. An engine? Car slowing?
She peeked through her bedroom window and scanned the yard. A slight movement. A shadow.
It disappeared as fast as it had come.
Her pulse quickened. Had someone been outside? Was someone watching her or her house?
Or was she simply paranoid?
She blew her hair dry, gathered the strands into a ponytail and brushed her cheeks with powder to camouflage the bags beneath her eyes. Lip gloss helped with her parched dry lips.
She hurried to get coffee and forced herself to eat a piece of toast. The rumbling sound of a car engine startled her, and she rushed to the front window and checked outside.
Ryder.
She swung the door open before he stepped onto the porch. “Gwen just called. It might be nothing or we might have a lead.”
She snatched her purse and phone on the way out the door, then ran back and plucked the baby quilt from the crib just in case they found her son. Pressing it to her chest, she jogged down the steps and crossed to his SUV. “What kind of lead?” she asked as she dived into the passenger seat.
“Someone reported seeing a woman with a baby at the bus station outside Sagebrush acting suspiciously.”
Tia’s breath caught. “Was it a little boy?”
Ryder covered her hand with his. “I don’t know, Tia. It might not be Jordie or the person who kidnapped him. For all we know, the woman is just a nervous traveler, or she could be
in trouble for another reason.”
“Like an abusive spouse,” Tia said, his logic ringing true. Still, she clung to hope as he sped toward Sagebrush.
* * *
RYDER TRIED TO banish the image of his mother’s pain-filled face from his mind. He had to focus on Tia now.
But...when he had the time, he’d talk to Maddox. As the sheriff of Pistol Whip, Maddox might have information on that lawyer.
Tia twisted her hands together. “Who called about the woman?”
“A ticket salesperson at the bus station.”
“Did she get a look at Jordie?”
“She didn’t say.” He didn’t want to squash the light in Tia’s tone, but he also didn’t want to feed false hope.
Tia chewed on her bottom lip, then lifted the baby blanket and pressed it against her cheek. Early morning sunlight slanted off her face, making her skin look golden and her face young.
He thought of his birth mother, Grace, in the picture where she was her pregnant. She’d looked radiant and happy, just as he imagined Tia had during her pregnancy.
He wished he could have seen Tia like that, before the horror and agony of this kidnapping had taken its toll.
She remained quiet as he maneuvered through town.
Just as they pulled up, a bus was loading, a line of passengers boarding. Tia leaned forward to search the group as he swung into a parking space. Before he killed the engine, she threw the door open and started toward the bus.
But the bus door quickly closed, the engine fired up and the bus pulled away.
Tia cried out in frustration.
Dammit. Ryder motioned to the entrance of the station and darted inside. He strode straight to the ticket counter, flashed his ID and explained he needed to speak to the person who’d phoned the tip line.
A white-haired woman in a green shirt emerged from the back. “I’m Bernice, the lady who called.”
Tia rushed up behind him, her breathing choppy. “This is my son, Jordie.” She shoved the photograph toward Bernice. “Did the woman you saw have this baby with her?”
Ryder placed a hand to her back as they waited on a response.
* * *
TIA’S HEART WAS pounding so hard she thought it would explode in her chest.
Bernice leaned over the counter and scrutinized the photograph. “Hmm, I can’t be sure. She had him wrapped up tight in a baby blanket and kept him to her chest, so I couldn’t see the baby’s face.”
Tia gripped the counter. “Did you see the baby’s hair? Was it blond or dark?”
Bernice settled her reading glasses on the end of her nose. “I...I’m sorry, I can’t say.”
Ryder gave Tia’s waist a squeeze, a silent message to hang in there.
“Why did you think she was acting suspiciously?” Ryder asked.
Bernice worried her glasses with her fingers, settling and resettling them again. “Well...she was awkward, you know, like she didn’t know how to take care of the baby. It was fussing and crying and she jostled it to try to quiet the poor thing and kept looking around as if she was afraid.”
Because she had Jordie?
Or had Ryder been right—was she running from someone else? God knew, Tia had worked with enough women coming through Crossroads that that was a distinct possibility.
“Did she call the baby by name?” Ryder asked.
Bernice glanced at the other ticket attendant, but the heavyset woman simply shrugged. “I was on my break, didn’t see or hear nothing.”
“A name?” Ryder asked again.
Bernice shook her head no. “She just kept saying, ‘Hush, little darlin’.’ That’s all.”
“What was the passenger’s name?” Ryder asked.
Bernice checked the computer. “Vicki Smith.”
“Did you check her ID?” Ryder asked.
The woman nodded. “All she had with her was a discount store card, one of those big warehouse deals where you have to have a membership.”
“No driver’s license?” Tia asked.
She shook her head no. “Said her wallet was stolen. Sounded down on her luck.”
“What’s her destination?” Ryder asked.
Bernice glanced at the computer again. “Cheyenne.”
“Can you give me a description of her?”
“She was wearing a scarf, so I don’t know how long her hair was, but it was a dirty brown.”
“Height and weight?”
Bernice shrugged. “About your height, ma’am. But she was plumper, although hard to tell how plump with the baby pressed to her like that. Could have been baby weight, too.”
“Did she have any distinguishing marks on her body? A tattoo or birthmark?”
“Not that I saw,” Bernice replied.
“Did she mention meeting anyone?”
“No.”
“Did she make any calls? Maybe on a cell phone?”
Bernice hesitated again then shook her head. “I didn’t see a phone. Like I said, though, she was acting strange, like she didn’t want to talk to people. So I didn’t push it.”
Ryder thanked her, then pressed a card on the counter. “If you think of anything else she said or did, call me.”
Tia clutched the baby blanket to her as she followed Ryder back to the SUV. “What are we going to do?”
Ryder started the engine, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “We’re going to follow that bus.”
He gunned the engine and sped onto the highway. Tia buckled up for the ride.
* * *
RYDER HONKED HIS horn as a sedan nearly cut him off when he pulled out of the bus station. The black car ignored the horn, sideswiped him then raced on.
Ryder swerved, hit the curb and bounced back onto the road. He wanted to go after the son of a bitch, but following that bus and the woman on board took priority.
Tia’s breathing filled the strained silence. She gripped the dashboard and said nothing, though.
Instead she kept her gaze trained ahead, eyes darting back and forth in search of the bus.
Ryder spotted it ahead, flew around an ancient pickup and roared up beside it.
“Look!” Tia pointed to a side window near the back, where a young woman wearing a dark scarf turned to watch them.
Dammit, she had a baby on her shoulder, swaddled in a blanket, and her eyes were wide with fear.
“That has to be her,” Tia said in a raw whisper.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryder considered pulling the bus over, but decided to wait until the next bus station. It was only twenty minutes away.
Meanwhile, he phoned Gwen and asked her to dig up what she could find on Vicki Smith.
“I’m following the bus she’s on now,” Ryder said. “She used a discount store’s ID, no driver’s license, so it may be a fake name.”
“Smith is an extremely common name,” Gwen said. “Let me see how many Vickis there are.”
A traffic light turned yellow, but the bus coasted on through just as it turned red. Tia looked panicked. Ryder quickly checked the intersection for cars, then sped through.
No way were they going to lose this bus.
“Ryder, I found dozens of women named Vicki Smith, but none match the description you gave, either. But if this woman is the unsub, she could have changed her appearance.”
“I know. Cross-check with those medical records we got warrants for and see if any of those women recently delivered a baby or lost a child.”
“On it.”
The bus slowed at another light. The woman turned around again, fear flashing on her face when she realized they were still behind her.
“Okay, a woman named Vicki Smith gave birth to a baby girl a month ago in Sagebrush.”
“Find out where she is now and the status of the baby.”
“Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”
She disconnected just as the bus moved forward. It swung a wide left at the intersection and Ryder followed it into the parking lot of the bus station.
* * *
TIA DARTED AROUND the front of the bus just as the door opened and passengers began to unload.
Ryder rushed up behind her. “Stay calm and let me handle the situation,” he said in a low voice next to her ear.
Tia felt anything but calm. She rose on tiptoes to see over the passengers, desperate to find the woman and baby. The bus was full, though, and the woman had been sitting near the back, so she couldn’t do anything but wait.
“What did you learn about her?” Tia asked as an Asian woman and small child walked past her, followed by two teenagers, earbuds in, immersed in their music.
“Nothing, really. A woman named Vicki Smith gave birth to a baby girl a month ago. Gwen’s looking into her.”
Several more passengers left the bus, then the bus driver peered to the back of the bus, seemed to decide that was everyone getting off at this stop and closed the door.
“No!” Tia hit the door with her palm.
Ryder stepped in front of her and rapped his fist on the door, then flashed his badge at the window. “FBI, open up.”
The bus driver flicked a hand up, indicating he was going to comply, then opened the door. Tia started to board, but Ryder gently urged her to stay still.
“Let me handle it, Tia.” He flashed his badge as he climbed the steps. Tia followed on his heels.
Whispers and murmurs passed through the remaining passengers still seated.
“FBI Special Agent Ryder Banks,” Ryder announced.
Tia scanned the people on board and spotted the woman in the back huddling down in the seat, her head buried against the baby. A scarf covered her hair, shadowing her face.
Ryder held up his hand. “Please stay seated, folks. I need to talk to the young woman in the back, the one with the baby.”
The woman remained crouched in the seat, face averted as she soothed the crying child.
Tia’s heart ached. Was that Jordie crying for her?