by Rita Herron
For a moment, Derrick hesitated, his suspicious nature kicking in. Could the young man be offering help to lead them astray?
But barring his last case, the mistake with the woman, he was usually a good judge of character, and everything about the man’s frustration with his wife and his apology to Brianna rang true.
“If you really mean that,” Derrick commented, “check with the sheriff. He’s arranging a team, and with your knowledge of the area and buildings, you could be of value.”
Phillips reached for his coat. “I’ll go see the sheriff now.”
They all walked out together, and Brianna thanked the man then climbed in the car. Brianna’s shoulders slumped with fatigue and stress, while tension thrummed through Derrick’s body.
The thought of Ryan being in danger knotted his insides. He had to find him.
He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.
“What do we do now?” Brianna asked.
His mind ticked over other cases, and he had a thought. “Let me do some digging around at the hospital. See if anyone lost a baby there recently.”
“Nobody is going to release medical records,” Brianna said. “Not with the strict privacy laws now.”
True. But not being with the bureau or the sheriff might work to their advantage.
“Do you have any contacts at the hospital?” he asked. “Maybe a friend who works there?”
Brianna hesitated. “Actually Sherry Ann Simmons is a nurse on the labor and delivery unit. She came to the waiting room to console me the night Natalie died.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Then let’s go see Sherry Ann.”
BRIANNA STRUGGLED TO HOLD ONTO hope as they drove to the hospital. She hated the confrontation with Dana, and prayed she hadn’t pushed the young woman over the edge. Derrick parked, and Brianna climbed from the seat, sucking in a sharp breath as pain ricocheted through her ribs. Her head was beginning to throb again, and her muscles ached from her fall down the stairs.
Derrick took her arm to help her along the icy pathway, and she forced a smile between clenched teeth.
“I can tell you’re hurting, Bri,” he said quietly. “I can take you home anytime.”
“No.” Panic stabbed at her. She didn’t want to be alone, not with her guilt, her worries and her imagination skipping to dark places. Not with the empty silence of the house. “I have to see this through.”
A ceiling-high Christmas tree stood in the hospital lobby, bows and garland decorating the walls, another reminder that Christmas would be here in a few days. They rode the elevator to the third floor, and the doors swished open to reveal another glittering tree. Nurses bustled back and forth with their morning chores. A baby cried from down the hall, and orderlies were delivering breakfast trays to the rooms.
Brianna made her way to the nurses’ station where a young aide sat filing charts behind the desk.
“Hi, is Sherry Ann Simmons on duty this morning?”
The young girl nodded. “Yes, she just went to help feed the preemies.”
“We’ll wait then.” She and Derrick walked to the nursery window, and paused by the glass partition. Rows of babies in bassinets lined the wall, and in the middle, three infants were in incubators, some sleeping, others crying, while the nurses tended to them.
Derrick made a low throaty sound, and turmoil darkened his brown eyes.
“If Ryan was mine, why didn’t Natalie tell me?” he finally asked.
“I don’t know,” Brianna said. “Maybe she thought you wouldn’t care, or that you wouldn’t want him. Or maybe she didn’t want you to think she was trying to trap you.”
His grunt resonated with disbelief.
Then he turned toward her, belligerence in his stance. “When Natalie died, why didn’t you tell me about the baby?”
Brianna sighed. “Derrick, I told you that I didn’t know who the father was, not for sure.”
“If you had, would you have let me know?”
The question taunted her, digging at her own self-doubt and guilt. She didn’t know how to answer. Yet she’d gone all her life without knowing her father and she had no right to deny Ryan his.
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “That was Natalie’s decision, not mine.”
He gripped her arm. “If he’s mine, Brianna, I’m going to be in his life. I’m going to get custody.”
Brianna tensed. She didn’t want to lose Ryan. But if Derrick discovered she’d faked the paperwork, she would. And she’d lose her job.
She spotted Sherry feeding a newborn and waved, and mouthed that she wanted to see her, and Sherry motioned that she’d be out in a minute.
“Brianna,” Derrick began. “Natalie told me that she was seeing someone else the last few months. Do you know who it was?”
Brianna shrugged. “No. But I think he was one of the deputies in the county.”
“He could have discovered Ryan was his, and had him kidnapped.”
“I thought of that, but why? If he’d wanted Ryan, why not come forward or go through the court?”
“Maybe he has something in his past or his background that would keep him from obtaining custody.”
Brianna pursed her lips. “I guess that’s possible.”
“I need to know who she dated,” Derrick declared.
The door squeaked open then, and Sherry stepped into the hallway. She smelled of baby, soft and gooey, and Brianna smiled, remembering the way the young woman had comforted her the night Natalie had died.
“Hi, Brianna, how are you doing?”
“Not very well,” Brianna responded. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the news but baby Ryan was kidnapped from my house in the night.”
Shock strained Sherry’s features. “No, I didn’t know.”
Derrick introduced himself, and Sherry gave him a curious look. “Miss Simmons, the sheriff has issued an Amber Alert and is organizing a team to search the mountains for the kidnapper. I’m working with Brianna to help find the baby.”
“What can I do?” Sherry prodded.
Brianna clutched Sherry’s hand. “I know this is asking a lot, but we’re investigating the possibility that a desperate woman had the baby kidnapped. Maybe one who wanted to adopt, or someone who recently lost a child.”
Sherry’s eyes widened. “Bri, you know I want to help you, but I can’t violate patient confidentiality.”
“So there is someone who comes to mind?” Derrick suggested.
Sherry chewed her lip and averted her eyes, remaining silent as another nurse exited the nursery and passed by.
“We just need a name,” Brianna urged. “No one will know that you gave us information, I promise that.”
“I’ll have to check the files,” she said in a hushed whisper. “But yes, last week a woman came in and miscarried. It was her third so far, and the doctor warned her not to try again, that she’d probably never be able to carry a baby to term.”
Sympathy welled in Brianna’s chest. She’d heard the story before from others who had turned to adoption. Losing the child was emotionally and physically painful enough, but couple that with hormones and the loss of hope, and the woman might have snapped. “She must have been devastated.”
“She was,” Sherry agreed softly. “You could hear her crying all the way down the hall. And her husband was almost as distraught.”
“What is her name?” Derrick asked.
Sherry motioned for them to follow her, and she ducked into an empty office and accessed the computer. A few seconds later, she scribbled a name and address on a sticky note. “Please be gentle,” Sherry begged. “This woman is emotionally fragile.”
Brianna’s chest clenched at Sherry’s plea. The last thing she wanted to do was torture another woman, especially after all she’d suffered so far.
But they had to do everything possible to find Ryan.
And this woman might have stolen him to replace the child she couldn’t have.
Chapter Five
/> Hoping the woman who’d miscarried proved to be a lead, Derrick drove through town, then to a complex of duplexes in an older section on the west side. Although the units had been built twenty years before, the brick had held up well and many were decorated for the holidays. The playground to the right was deserted now, but in the warmer weather, he imagined it was packed with kids.
Rhoda Hampton and her husband lived in the unit on the end. Good. Better access to break in if he needed to.
“I really hate to do this,” Brianna said. “This woman sounds like she’s been through hell already.”
Derrick gripped the steering wheel with clenched fingers. “I know, Brianna. But time is important here. We can’t afford not to pursue any possibility.”
Brianna pulled out her phone and glanced at it before they got out. “I just wish the kidnapper would call. I want to know that Ryan is okay.”
So did he. And every minute that passed lessened his chances of finding the baby alive. The very reason he had to steel himself against sympathy for this other woman and do his job.
He glanced at Brianna. The bruises on her face were more stark. Her skin had darkened to a deep purple and yellow in the afternoon sunlight flickering off the snow.
“You can wait here if you want,” Derrick offered. “I can handle it.”
“No.” Brianna opened her own door. “I’m a social worker. Maybe I can make her understand, connect on some level.”
They walked up the driveway together, but Derrick kept his eyes peeled in case the woman was watching. The duplex seemed dark though, and no car was in the drive.
Brianna punched the doorbell, but he peeked through the front window for signs of life. No lights inside. No movement or sounds.
Brianna punched the bell again, but no one responded. Derrick motioned that he was going around back, and she followed him to the kitchen door.
It was locked, so he used a credit card, and a second later, opened the door.
She caught his arm. “Derrick, we can’t break in.”
“Shh.” He inched inside, and paused to listen, but a dark silence filled the house as if it had been deserted.
“Stay outside,” Derrick ordered.
Brianna hesitated at the doorway, then seemed to change her mind and stepped inside. Afternoon shadows hugged the walls as he studied the kitchen. A half pot of coffee sat on the counter, but it was cold, and dishes crusted with dried food had been left in the sink.
“What are you looking for?” Brianna asked.
“Some sign the couple brought a baby here.”
Brianna nodded, watching as he checked the pantry and refrigerator. No baby formula inside. They slowly walked into the den, and his gaze skimmed the room. A worn leather sofa and recliner, TV, magazines scattered across a pine coffee table. No baby furniture.
He inched up the steps, his senses honed in case someone was hiding upstairs or returned. Brianna stepped into the master bedroom while he moved to the guest room to check it out. An iron bed, wooden dresser and rocking chair occupied the room, but he didn’t find a baby bed. He quickly searched the closet, the dresser drawers and then headed to the last room.
It was empty, and obviously intended to be the nursery, because it had been painted blue and a train border lined the wall near the ceiling. Apparently that was as far as the couple had gotten with the nursery.
Brianna approached from behind. “Oh, that’s so sad. I feel badly for them.”
“There’s nothing here,” he reported. “Did you find anything?”
“I’m not sure,” Brianna said. “The dresser drawers were half open as if someone might have pulled clothes from them in a hurry, and the closet door was ajar.”
“Any suitcases inside?”
She frowned. “Yes, a big one.”
“Might have been a smaller matching one to go with it. Maybe they left town in a hurry.” He gestured toward the hall. “Let’s check downstairs and see if we find work numbers. I want to know where this couple is.”
He let her go first, grimacing as she winced with every movement and gripped the stair rail to steady herself. “Check that desk in the den and I’ll search the kitchen by the phone.”
She stopped at the desk and began to rummage through the papers on top. He checked the kitchen counter, then found a basket with a few bills inside, and a business card for Larry Hampton. He grabbed the latest bank statement and stuck it inside his jacket.
“He owns a pesticide company called Bugs Away.” Derrick pocketed the card, gestured toward the back door, and they rushed outside and around front to the car.
As he settled in the driver’s seat, he scanned the complex, removed his phone and punched in the number for Bugs Away. The phone rang twice, then a woman’s voice echoed over the line.
“Bugs Away. How can I help you?”
“Is Larry Hampton in?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but he called yesterday and said he was going to be out of town for a few days. Do you need one of our assistants to come out for an estimate?”
“No, thank you. Did Mr. Hampton say where he was going?”
“No. Would you like us to mail you a brochure?”
“No, thanks. I really need to talk to him and his wife. Do you know where Mrs. Hampton works?”
“She teaches math at the high school. Why? What is this about?”
Derrick didn’t bother to reply. He hung up the phone, then called information for the number of the school. The receptionist answered in a cheery voice.
“Sanctuary High. Trudy Leigh speaking.”
“Hi, Trudy. I’m the father of a boy in Ms. Hampton’s class. Can you tell me if she’s at school today? I need to set up a conference.”
“Hmm, Ms. Hampton’s not here today. In fact, her husband phoned and said there was a family emergency, and she wouldn’t be in this week, so we called a substitute. Maybe you can schedule when she returns.”
“Yes, thank you.” He ended the call, and turned to Brianna, then explained.
“So neither of them showed up at work,” Brianna said. “Maybe they just needed some time after the miscarriage.”
Derrick gritted his teeth. “Or they might have left town to meet the man who kidnapped Ryan.”
And if they had, they probably wouldn’t be coming back.
“MAYBE WE SHOULD VISIT THE school and talk to some of the teachers or the principal,” Brianna suggested. “One of them might know where the Hamptons have gone.”
Derrick grimaced but gave a nod, then ripped open the bank statement he’d confiscated from the couple’s house. Brianna leaned sideways to study the posts.
“No large sums of cash,” Derrick uttered with a frown. “Unless he went to an ATM and it hasn’t shown up yet.” He stuffed the statement back into the envelope, then started the car and headed toward the high school.
Ten minutes later, they stood in the front office, talking to a twenty-something secretary named Angie who Brianna knew from high school as well as from prior cases she’d been called to assist with when she’d worked for Division of Family and Children Services.
The receptionist took one look at Brianna and gasped. “My God, Brianna. I heard that you were attacked and someone stole baby Ryan. Are you all right?”
The pros and cons of living in a small town—everyone knew everyone else’s business. “No, I’m not,” Brianna stressed, her heart in her throat. “And I won’t be until I find Ryan.”
“I just can’t believe it,” Angie remarked. “First Natalie dies, and now her baby is kidnapped. Makes me think about that other kidnapping, little Ruby Holden. Why, it was last year about this time.”
Derrick cleared his throat and introduced himself, then explained that he worked for GAI. “That’s why we’re here. We’re trying to find out who kidnapped Ryan.”
Angie pressed her hand to her chest. “Well, how can I help?”
Brianna lowered her voice. “One of your teachers, Miss Hampton. We heard she had a miscarriage, and that
it wasn’t her first.”
“Yes, that was so sad. She wanted a baby so much, and this was her third try.” She leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. “She’s taking some time off this week. I have a feeling she needed it.”
“That’s what we heard,” Brianna confirmed. “I’m sure she’s having a difficult time now, in a vulnerable emotional state.”
Angie nodded vehemently. “I was worried that she might have a breakdown. Poor thing.” Her mouth quirked sideways in thought. “You know I suggested she talk to you about applying to adopt, but she didn’t take it very well. She said she wanted a baby of her own.”
“Do you think it’s possible she might have changed her mind? That she was desperate enough to hire someone to take Ryan?” Derrick asked.
“Oh, my goodness,” Angie said, fiddling with her opal necklace. “You think she kidnapped the baby?”
“I don’t know,” Brianna admitted. “And I certainly don’t want to accuse an already distraught woman who just lost a child of a crime.” But if Rhoda Hampton worked with Natalie and had watched her carry her pregnancy to term as an unwed mother, maybe she had decided it wasn’t fair, that she should have the child instead of Natalie.
“Still, you can see how it looks,” Derrick began. “How we might think that she did. The timing, her emotional state…it all fits.”
Angie sank back into the chair behind her desk. “I don’t know. I really just don’t know.”
“Is there anything you can think of that might help us, Angie? Some place Rhoda and her husband might go to get away?”
Angie shrugged. “Not really.”
“Any family?”
“His parents are gone. Her mama lives north of here. But she’s in a nursing home on the Blue Ridge Parkway so I don’t think Mrs. Hampton would go there.”
Derrick made a low sound in his throat, and Brianna sensed his frustration. The adjoining office door opened, and Principal Billings walked out.
Brianna smiled at him, and Angie shrugged as he passed, but both waited until he left the office before continuing.
“One more question,” Brianna added. “Did Natalie seem worried or upset about anything the last few weeks before she died?”