Was he really considering trying to raise his son alone? The pretty sheriff didn’t think he had any business doing so. Maybe she was right. What business did he have pretending to be a father?
They’d never let him keep Judy’s boy. He was crazy to think they might.
Don’t hope for too much. Don’t wish for too much. Someone will take it away.
Hope wasn’t worth the pain that came with it.
Wiley parked his paws on Garrett’s leg and barked.
“You’re right. We should go. I’m sure you want your lunch.”
The dog started yipping and hopping in excited circles.
A lonely cowboy and a nutty dog with a crooked tail. Both of them misfits in the world beyond this ranch. They had nothing but each other. Until today, it had seemed like enough.
Pointing toward the door, Garrett said, “Go on. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Wiley dashed into the hall and Garrett listened to him descending the stairs. Crossing the hallway back to his parents’ bedroom, he replaced the key and left the room as he’d found it.
The ghost of his past couldn’t be erased, but it was welcome to keep the top floor. At the bottom of the stairs, he pulled the door shut again and turned his back on the place where his nightmares lived.
Thursday morning, a week after her visit to Judy Bowen’s attorney, Mandy sat at the cluttered oak desk in her office and stared at the crime lab reports in her hands. The only sound in the room was the crackle of paper as she flipped over a page and continued reading, then flipped back to read it again. Finally, she looked up at the man seated on the other side of the desk.
“The paint’s not a match to Garrett Bowen’s truck. It’s cheap black spray paint, the kind you can buy at any automotive or hardware store. It’s not going to help us much.”
She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that she had no evidence to tie Garrett to the crime.
Thomas Wick, the county attorney, tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I assume this lets Mr. Bowen off the hook.”
A man in his midfifties, Thomas was neatly dressed in a dark blue suit over a pristine white shirt and a bolo tie with a large silver concho. He sat at ease in one of the brown leather wingback chairs that made Mandy’s small office seem even smaller.
She closed the folder and leaned back, hoping her frustration didn’t show. “For now. The paint on his vehicle is original from the factory. He had motive. He had opportunity. It would have been nice to tie this up in a neat package. Instead, I’m back to square one. Who wanted Judy Bowen dead and why?”
“Maybe it was a simple case of road rage.”
She gave a slight shake of her head. “Maybe, but my gut tells me there’s more to it. Have you been out to the site?”
“Of course.”
“Then you might have noticed her car ended up in the deepest ravine anywhere along that highway. I think someone knew the road and knew exactly where to run her off.”
“What about the murder she was supposed to have witnessed in Kansas City?”
“I had Donna request the files on the case, but we haven’t received them yet.”
“Social Services will be pushing to find placement for the baby. I understand he can be released from the hospital soon.”
Mandy nodded. “I talked to their social worker this morning. The paternity test is conclusive. It’s Garrett’s child.”
“Because we’re not swearing out an arrest warrant for him, we can’t keep him from his son much longer.”
Drumming her fingers on the desk, Mandy said, “I’ve got no legal reason to keep him away, but the situation is a recipe for disaster. He should honor his ex-wife’s wishes and go through with the adoption. A man like that doesn’t have a clue about raising a baby.”
“Single parents raise children all the time,” Thomas chided.
Mandy shook her head. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“The man is hiding something. I feel it in my bones. He has one arrest for drugs—”
“That was three years ago. Nothing since then. His financial records don’t show anything out of line. We’ve got nothing tying him to his ex-wife’s death.”
Mandy knew that as well as Thomas did. “Something about the man has me puzzled, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
She’d already lost enough sleep over Garrett’s behavior, over the way he could shut off his emotions at the drop of a hat. Was she projecting guilt onto him because the case was similar to one she’d blown years ago? No, it was something more.
She steepled her fingers on the desktop. “If he keeps the baby, I’ll be keeping a close eye on both of them.”
Tom blew out a long, slow breath. “I’m afraid that’s all anyone can do at this point. The nurses at the hospital tell me you’ve been over every night to tuck in the little fellow.”
Embarrassed that her emotional attachment had become common knowledge, Mandy tried to shrug off her involvement. “I feel responsible for him. Besides, he’s adorable. He has the sweetest smile.”
And a dimple in his cheek like his father.
True to his word, Garrett had called every day for an update on Colin’s condition. Each time she talked to him, Mandy felt her resistance to him crumble a little more. If only she could be sure he was innocent.
Having been so wrong once before, she wasn’t willing to take that chance again. Colin’s life might depend on it.
“Any other cases I should know about?” Tom asked.
Pushing her conflicting feelings about Garrett to the back of her mind, Mandy went over the cases that needed Tom’s attention. “Besides a few traffic tickets and a dispute between neighbors over some cows on the highway, the county has been quiet for the past few days. The only major arrest we’ve had is that young couple on burglary charges that I brought in yesterday.”
“Is it a solid case? Never mind, that was a stupid question. You always bring me solid cases. You do good police work, Sheriff. We’re lucky to have you.”
“Thanks.” Praise from Tom was high praise, indeed.
Rising to his feet, Tom said, “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Do you want to notify Social Services that Bowen’s been cleared or shall I?”
“I’ll do it.”
At the door, he paused with his hand on the knob. “I’ve been meaning to ask how things are working out between you and Fred Lindholm? I know there was a lot of resentment on his part when he was passed over and you were appointed sheriff.”
“Sometimes Fred’s attitude isn’t the best, but I think we’re making it work.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
After he left the office, Mandy added her findings to the file she already had on Judy Bowen. At the sound of a knock, she looked up to see Fred enter.
She asked, “Have you had a chance to interview J. J. Fields and Spike Carver about the farm supply robbery?”
“They claim they had legitimate reasons for being in the store.”
“And you believed them?”
“They’re both working as tow truck drivers for Turner’s Truck Stop. They claim they were in the store to pick up new work gloves and that’s how their prints got there.”
Puzzled, Mandy asked, “Why would Aaron Turner hire a pair of shady characters like J. J. and Spike? Does he know they have arrest records?”
“I assume he does.”
“Don’t assume, Fred. Check.”
His scowl deepened, but he didn’t comment. He just turned on his heels and left. Donna poked her head in when he was gone.
“Sheriff, Ken called to say he’s going to be a half hour late this morning.”
Mandy had a hard time containing her annoyance. “Again? That’s the third time in a month. Did he give you a reason?”
“He said he overslept.”
“If he keeps this up, he and I are going to have a chat.”
Donna took a step into the room. “Is that the report on
the paint sample? What does it say?”
“The paint isn’t a match to Bowen’s truck.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t do it. It just means he was driving a different vehicle.”
“I thought of that, but I’ve got no proof that he had access to another truck.”
Dragging a hand through her hair to get it out of her face, Mandy wondered what she was missing. Her whole focus was on Garrett. He’d become an obsession and she wasn’t sure why.
“I may be looking in the wrong place on this. Did K.C. ever send the files on the murder investigation I asked for?”
“I haven’t seen them.”
“Request them again. I’m not going to rest until I find out who left that baby to die in a burning car.”
FIVE
Garrett was on his way out the door when the phone rang. Knowing he had a busy day ahead of him, he considered letting the machine pick up, but decided against it. It could be about Judy or about Colin.
Oddly, he hoped the caller would be Mandy. He’d spoken to her every day for the past several days. He’d gotten to where he actually looked forward to the calls.
There was something deeply comforting in the sound of her voice.
This time, the female on the other end of the line wasn’t Sheriff Scott. “Mr. Bowen, this is Shari Compton. I’m Colin’s social worker.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Here it came, the news that Judy’s baby wasn’t his son or that he wasn’t fit to raise him.
“The paternity tests results are in. The child is your biological son.”
“He’s mine?”
The tangle of emotions that shot through Garrett took his breath away. Relief, joy, terror.
“Yes,” Miss Compton continued, “I’m calling to tell you that you’ve been granted supervised visitation.”
“Does that mean I can see him?” He tried not to get his hopes up.
“Yes.”
His surge of happiness was followed quickly by apprehension. Things were never this easy. “When?”
“Today at noon is the only time I have available. I’m sorry for the short notice.”
He glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter of eleven. He needed to be in Junction City at the sale barn at one o’clock. He had an order for forty heads of feeder cattle that needed filling today.
His client was new, but had the potential to give Garrett a lot of business and some much-needed referrals.
A cattle buyer’s livelihood was directly related to his reputation. A buyer who couldn’t fulfill his contract was one who’d soon be out of work. The extra income Garrett earned was important to his plans for the ranch.
A ranch he could hand over to his son one day.
The idea took hold and wouldn’t let go. He didn’t have to spend his life alone. He had a son.
Provided he could gain custody of Colin.
Telling the social worker he was too busy to see the boy today wasn’t the place to start. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll see you then. We can talk after you’ve had a chance to visit with your son.”
An hour later, Garrett walked into Timber Wells Medical Center with sweaty hands and a pounding heart. At the front desk, he was told to wait. He took a seat on one of the chairs lined up beneath the wide window overlooking a shady stretch of lawn and fidgeted with his hat all the while wondering if getting his hopes up was a bad idea.
What if this woman decided he wasn’t suitable? What if he couldn’t take care of a child? What if he was like his father?
Would she be able to tell that?
A tiny middle-aged woman in a dark gray tailored pantsuit walked up to him. He shot to his feet and wrestled down his panic.
She held out her hand. “Mr. Bowen, I’m Miss Compton.”
He wiped his damp palm on his jeans before taking her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I will be supervising your visit today. Tomorrow, I’ll be making a home visit to assess your ability to care for and house Colin.”
“Tomorrow?” He swallowed hard. How much of the house would she need to see?
Concern clouded her eyes. “Is that a problem?”
“No, ma’am. Is it all right that I have a dog?”
A small smile lightened her features. “I’m not a dog person myself. I would request that you keep him confined during the home visit, but unless he eats small children, I don’t think he will be a problem. I’m not the enemy, Mr. Bowen.”
“No, ma’am.” He wanted to trust her, but trusting people was hard for him.
“I really do have Colin’s best interest at heart. Social Services has programs that can help you with medical expenses, parenting classes, even food and housing.”
“I’m not looking for charity.”
“It isn’t charity. These programs benefit many families. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the way to Colin’s room.”
As the woman bustled down the hall ahead of him, Garrett relaxed a little. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought.
When they reached the baby’s room, a nurse in pink scrubs was waiting for them just outside. “My name is Glenda and I’m Colin’s nurse today.”
She opened the door and walked in. After a moment of hesitation, Garrett followed.
The room was decorated in shades of blue and tan with a flowery border along the top of the walls. A television, suspended from the ceiling, was tuned to a channel that played soft music as messages about parenting and health classes flashed across the screen.
In the far corner of the room sat a white metal crib with a large wooden rocker beside it. All he could see in the crib was a lump of blue terrycloth.
“Do you have any questions for me?” the nurse asked.
Garrett almost laughed. A million, but he didn’t know where to start.
He stepped up to the crib. The lump was a baby, sleeping on his stomach with his legs drawn up beneath him and his little rump sticking in the air. Garrett drew a sharp breath into his suddenly tight chest.
The boy’s head was covered in soft, blond hair. His cheeks were plump and pink and he was sucking on his thumb.
Whatever Garrett had been expecting, it wasn’t this feeling of warmth that spread through him like sun-drenched honey. “He’s so…small.”
The nurse and the social worker exchanged smiles.
“He won’t stay little for long,” a familiar voice added. Garrett looked over his shoulder to see Mandy standing in the doorway.
She was in uniform once again, a light blue shirt with a shield-shaped patch on one sleeve, dark blue trousers with a yellow stripe down the legs. Around her waist, she wore a thick black belt and the tools of her trade, a holster, a slim baton and a radio. He assumed she had handcuffs, but they must be in one of the small leather cases on the belt.
The only thing different about her today was her hair. It was loose about her shoulders, giving her a softer, more feminine appearance.
Not that she needed much help in that department. Once a man got past the fact that she carried a gun, she was really easy on the eyes.
The baby began to stir, and the nurse said, “He’s waking up. Mr. Bowen, have you ever given a baby a bath?”
He’d managed to wrestle Wiley into a tub once a month, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t count. He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“In that case, I’ll show you how. Let me get my supplies.”
Mandy stepped into the room as the nurse left. “Mind if I watch?”
He did. He didn’t want another witness to his ineptness, but would Miss Compton count it against him if he objected?
He glanced at the social worker but couldn’t read anything in her face.
“Don’t mind a bit.” He tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. He still held his hat in his hands. Glancing around, he spied a small table and walked over to set it down. He didn’t like being the center of attention, but it seemed he didn’t have a choice.
When he
walked back to the crib, he found Colin regarding him with wide bright blue eyes.
Judy’s eyes.
He’s beautiful, Judy. Why didn’t you tell me about him?
Sudden tears blurred his vision, but he quickly wiped the wetness away, hoping no one noticed. He glanced toward Mandy and Miss Compton, but their attention was on the door as the nurse came back in with a blue plastic tub and several towels.
“All right,” Glenda said brightly. “Let’s get the little fellow undressed.”
Garrett awkwardly turned the baby on his back, so he could undo the snaps of the sleeper, but Colin was no help. He kept arching his back and trying to roll onto his stomach. Finally, Garrett simply had to brace his forearm across the baby’s chest and hold him down while he undid the fasteners.
None of the women in the room spoke or offered help. Was he being too rough?
Garrett looked at the nurse. “I thought he had a broken collarbone.”
“He does, but babies heal much more quickly than adults. Be careful not to pull on his left arm. He’ll let you know if you’re hurting him.”
When he had the snaps undone, Garrett slipped the garment off his son’s arms and legs, seeing for the first time the boy’s chubby, stout little body.
Glancing at the nurse, Garrett said, “He looks like he’s going to be a football player.”
Suddenly, a warm wetness hit the front of his shirt. He jumped back in surprise.
Chuckling, the nurse handed Garrett a towel. “I should have warned you—he’s armed and dangerous.”
Brushing at the wet patch, Garrett returned her smile. “I’ll remember that.”
With the nurse’s help but knowing both Mandy and Miss Compton were watching, Garrett managed to transfer his son into the tub. Keeping the squirming, slippery baby upright in the water was tough. Bathing Wiley, with all its pitfalls, was a piece of cake compared to this.
Colin’s head bobbed back and forth making it even harder to hold on to him. He kicked joyously in the water and tried to flap his arms, making occasional squeals. Each time he did, Garrett flinched, sure he was hurting the boy. No doubt Mandy and Miss Compton were making mental notes to that effect and wouldn’t give him custody.
Speed Trap Page 6