by Laura Scott
Sawyer’s mouth thinned. “Yes, I know. We’ve issued a BOLO for him and the black Buick.”
The news was reassuring. With the entire Chattanooga police department searching for Melvin, she felt certain he’d be arrested and willing to give them information about where the girls were being held.
Dear Lord, please watch over Kate until the police are able to rescue her!
Sawyer glanced at Naomi, relieved she appeared to be resting. The gash marring her temple could have been so much worse.
He almost thanked God for saving her, but then he gave himself a mental shake. She was the believer, not him. He was fairly certain she was more than willing and able to pray for herself and Kate.
Sawyer was glad his boss hadn’t minded his taking the rest of the day off. He’d given his statement before heading over to the hospital, and every moment away from Naomi felt like tiny knives piercing his skin.
He hadn’t been able to relax until he’d seen for himself that she was fine. Learning her brain scan was normal had been an even bigger relief.
As he drove to his cabin, he kept his eye out for any sign of the black Buick. It irked him that he hadn’t taken Naomi’s concern over seeing the kidnapper seriously.
Although even if he had, he wouldn’t have expected the guy to shoot at her.
He’d left instructions for her car to be taken to the police station to be searched for evidence, like hopefully the bullet, and when that was finished, he’d arrange for it to be taken to the closest garage. Naomi couldn’t drive it until the rear window was repaired.
At the rate these guys were coming after her, she’d need a replacement vehicle before this was over.
He frowned as he slowed down to pull into his driveway, taking care not to jostle the car too much. Turner had promised to question Naomi about her kidnapping but hadn’t bothered to ask for a meeting. And the incident at the café bothered him. Why had they taken a shot at her? He also didn’t understand why the kidnappers had stayed in Chattanooga when they could have just as easily moved on in search of their next victim.
Unless Naomi had gotten too close when she’d followed the black Buick. Still, he figured they could easily dump the Buick and get another car.
Shooting at Naomi seemed almost—personal. As if the kidnappers were carrying out a vendetta against her. Because she’d escaped? Maybe.
Yet Sawyer felt certain there had to be more to it than that. Again, why hadn’t they just moved on?
Nothing about this made sense.
Naomi let out a low moan and opened her eyes. “You need a smoother driveway.”
He winced. “Sorry about that.”
She lifted her hand. “I’m kidding. Thanks for doing this. Although I wish you’d go back to work. I’m sure I’ll be fine alone.”
“My shift is just about over anyway. And I’ll check in later, see if they’ve picked up Melvin Curtis.”
“Okay.” Her easy acquiescence proved she wasn’t feeling well. Normally he’d expect an argument.
The sooner she was able to get some rest, the better.
He parked the squad and grabbed Naomi’s bag from the back seat. She moved gingerly, and he hoped that wasn’t an indication that she was feeling worse.
“You okay?” He unlocked the door and swept a gaze over the interior, before stepping aside to let her in.
“Yes.” She entered his home and crossed over to the sofa. She smiled wryly. “I don’t suppose you have any acetaminophen?”
“I do.” He set the bag down beside her and hurried into the bathroom. He brought out the over-the-counter meds along with a glass of water. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She downed the pills and handed the empty glass and bottle back. “I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.”
“Go lie down in the guest room,” he suggested. “I’ll make something light for dinner.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.” She pushed to her feet. “I hate that I’m making more work for you.”
“It’s no more additional work, I’d make something for myself anyway.” He picked up her bag and followed her into the guest room. “Please get some rest and let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Sawyer.” She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. He set her bag down, then left her alone, softly closing the door behind him.
He changed out of his uniform but kept his gun on his hip, partially because he felt naked without it, but more so because he knew the danger surrounding Naomi was far from over.
These guys had taken a shot at her with a police cruiser nearby. A bold attempt, and one that didn’t bode well. It meant these guys were more worried about getting rid of Naomi than getting caught.
A part of him wished he could patrol the city, doing his part to find the black Buick. But there was no way he was leaving Naomi here alone.
Determined to check the exterior of his cabin, Sawyer eased out the front door and moved quietly around the structure. His large vegetable and herb garden ran along the entire west side of his home. The front and the back had large clearings, but the east side was full of trees and other foliage.
That would be the most logical place for someone trying to creep up to the cabin to hide. He went back inside for fishing wire so he could set up several low trip wires. Cameras would be better, but he didn’t have time to set them up, so he was forced to improvise.
When that task was finished, he spent some time pulling weeds from his garden, a never-ending task. Then he gathered carrots, radishes, and green onions for the chicken soup he was planning to make.
He carried his bounty inside and double locked the front and back doors. Many people didn’t bother locking up in this neck of the woods. Especially if they were isolated and away from town. Criminals didn’t bother to come out into the woods to find people to rob.
East Ridge, where Naomi had spotted the black Buick, had a surprisingly high crime rate, but in his experience, most of that crime centered around robberies, drugs, and some gang-related events.
But now he wondered if maybe the sex traffickers had made that part of the city a hub for their business.
When he’d finished chopping the vegetables and precooking the chicken, he placed the large pot of soup on the stove to cook. Then he pulled out his laptop and reviewed the area where Louisa had last been seen.
Louisa and her mother didn’t live in East Ridge, but their home wasn’t that far from the area either. The kidnappers could easily expand their search area throughout Chattanooga without being far from their home base in East Ridge.
If that was where their home base was located.
He sat back in his chair, staring at the computer. Theories weren’t facts, but he very badly wanted to check out the East Ridge gas station where Naomi had seen the Buick.
Maybe later, when she was feeling better.
His cell phone rang, and he recognized his boss’s number. “Lieutenant.”
“Murphy, I just got a call from the state troopers. They found a purse lying at the side of the road.”
He straightened in his seat. “Naomi’s?”
“Yeah, her driver’s license and credit cards were still inside, but no cash.”
“Where did they find it?”
“It was found near the Tennessee-Georgia border, off Highway 60,” Lieutenant Evan Watkins said. “Which is exactly where your witness claims the car crash took place.”
Sawyer blew out a frustrated breath. Naomi would be glad to have her driver’s license back, but the location of the lost purse wasn’t helpful.
The only clue they had was Melvin Curtis. And for all they knew, the guy could be in another state by now.
Chapter Seven
Naomi woke feeling disoriented. Her headache was still there, although slightly less intense than earlier. It took a moment for her to remember where she was.
Sawyer’s cabin.
She’d never met a nicer, kinder guy. Or rather, the nice guys she knew weren’t nearly as good-l
ooking. The ones who had the looks tended to know it and acted accordingly.
Like her ex, Tony. Who was very attractive and knew it. He’d acted as if she should be glad he was interested in her.
Jerk.
She eased from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. The enticing scent of chicken soup filled the cabin. It was amazing to her that Sawyer knew how to make soup, although for all she knew, he could have run into town to buy it.
Nah, she didn’t think that was likely. Partially because Sawyer seemed determined to remain glued to her side. And also because last night, when she’d gone outside after her nightmare, she’d gotten a glimpse of his large vegetable garden. Seeing that had surprised her, she didn’t know many men who did their own gardening. At the time she’d wondered if he had a live-in girlfriend.
But she hadn’t found any women’s toiletries in his bathroom, which convinced her that Sawyer lived alone. At least most of the time.
Naomi washed up in the bathroom, then came out into the kitchen. She wished that she’d packed a large suitcase of clean clothes. She was going through shirts and jeans like toilet paper.
She found Sawyer working on his laptop at the kitchen table. “Hi.”
“Hey.” His warm smile made her feel a bit dizzy. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.” She crossed over to peer into the large pot on the stove. “You made chicken soup?”
“Yep. Figured that would be better for you than something heavy.”
She replaced the lid and joined him at the table. “Very impressive that you know how to cook.”
“Not that impressive since I like to eat.” He grinned. “And I don’t like wasting veggies from the garden.”
He was unlike any man she’d met, although the past year had been one in which she hadn’t socialized much. Especially after she’d kicked Tony to the curb. “I noticed your garden. I assume the high chicken wire fence is designed to keep the animals out?”
“The deer are the worst,” he said wryly. “And they can jump the fence. I use some natural deer repellant, along with planting various herbs and ferns around the garden that deer and rabbits tend not to like.”
“Wow, sounds like having a garden is a lot of work.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s worth it.”
“Did your foster parents teach you how to garden?”
His expression turned guarded. “The foster home I lived in for five years was an awful place. But yes, I did learn about gardening there, mostly because I used the garden as an opportunity to escape. I would have spent all day there if I could.”
“That sounds rough.” She felt bad for what he’d been through.
“Yeah.” He quickly changed the subject. “Are you hungry? The soup is ready anytime.”
“Surprisingly, I am.” Initially she’d felt sick to her stomach, a side effect she knew of the concussion.
“I’ll get it.” Sawyer shut his laptop and crossed to the stove. He ladled soup into two large bowls and carried them to the table. “By the way, I have some good news.”
Her heart leaped. “You found Melvin Curtis?”
“No, sorry. Your purse was found at the side of the highway just over the Georgia-Tennessee border. You’ll get your driver’s license back tomorrow, along with your credit cards.”
Since she’d already canceled the cards, that wasn’t much help. “I’ll be glad to have my driver’s license. I don’t suppose my cash was still inside?”
“No.” Sawyer set what looked to be homemade bread on the table. “How much did you have?”
“Less than a hundred dollars.” She tried not to be disappointed. “I’m sure leering man and his driver took it.”
“Or some person who found the purse had helped themselves,” he added. “At least you have one less thing to worry about with getting your driver’s license back.”
“Yes.” She sampled the soup. “This is really good.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you make the bread too?”
“Yep. It’s not hard with a bread maker.” He looked a bit uncomfortable talking about his prowess in the kitchen. “And as I said, I like to eat.”
“Me too, but I’ve never made bread or grown my own veggies.”
“I know what it’s like to go hungry. I enjoy cooking.”
Her heart squeezed at the thought of a young Sawyer going hungry. What kind of foster family made their children go hungry? “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m fine.” His curt response indicated he didn’t want to discuss the issue any further.
She glanced outside. “I’d like to drive around a bit, check out the city.”
“Not tonight.” He leveled her a stern glance. “You promised to rest, Naomi.”
“Riding in a car isn’t exactly stressful,” she protested.
“That’s not your plan, and you know it. We’ve issued a BOLO for Melvin Curtis and the black Buick with the license plate number you provided to us. Along with the sketch of your kidnapper. We will find them.”
She grimaced. Sitting and doing nothing while Kate was out there, somewhere, wasn’t easy. The lack of activity in her current clinic role, compared to being a critical care nurse, had been the most difficult thing to get used to. The hours at the clinic were shorter, and they were busy, but with mundane tasks such as refilling meds and taking calls for patients who wanted to see their doctor. The shorter workday had actually seemed longer than her twelve-hour shifts in the ICU.
Truthfully, she’d keenly missed the hustle and bustle of critical care. Of knowing that patients lived because of her expertise.
She’d never mentioned her dissatisfaction with her new job to Kate, though. Even when the teenager had started rebelling against her guardianship in a big way.
Maybe someday, when Kate headed off to college, Naomi would return to the career she’d loved.
If they were able to find her sister. Her stomach clenched, and she stared down at her soup.
Not if but when they found Kate. Naomi needed to keep thinking positive.
She couldn’t bear to consider the alternative.
Sawyer had been alone for so long that sharing meals and his living space with Naomi provided a level of intimacy he wasn’t prepared for.
He admired her for so many reasons. The way she’d courageously escaped her kidnappers, for being a critical care nurse, and caring so much about her half sister, Kate. Then there was also the fact that Naomi was beautiful without seeming to realize it.
Having feelings for her wasn’t smart, and logically, he knew he couldn’t act upon them. She was a victim and a witness, which made her off-limits. Plus, Naomi didn’t live in Chattanooga and would return to her life in Dalton, Georgia, very soon. Tomorrow, if he had his way.
He was much better off alone.
Especially considering what he’d done thirteen years ago.
“Sawyer?”
Naomi’s voice brought him back from his dark thoughts. He met her gaze, belatedly realizing his soup was getting cold. “Yeah?”
“I trust you, or I wouldn’t be here. But I’m also not used to sitting around doing nothing. I really want to help find Kate.”
“I know.” He honestly couldn’t blame her. He knew what it was like to have your family missing.
While she’d been sleeping, he’d decided to pick up his on-again, off-again search for the rest of his foster siblings. It was something he did when he had extra time on his hands, which admittedly wasn’t often. Hailey was planning to visit next week, but so far, she was the only sibling he’d connected with. And even then, they didn’t get a chance to talk as frequently as he’d have liked.
It shamed him that he hadn’t done more to find the others. As a cop, he should have searched for them night and day. Especially knowing Cooper and Trent had gone off on their own.
The biggest factor, though, was the lack of having a last name for his siblings. He’d learned Hailey’s was Donovan, but he didn’t know the last name
s of the others. Which probably seemed odd, but when they were with the Preacher, it was all they could do to survive.
Discussing their last names hadn’t been high on the list of priorities. And even if he had known their last names, without any formal paperwork like birth certificates and social security numbers, it was as if they didn’t exist.
If Joe Kohl hadn’t helped Sawyer get his paperwork straightened out, he would never be where he was today. And the faint memory of living in Charleston, North Carolina, had helped in that regard. Sawyer had been nine years old when he’d been sent to the Preacher, so he’d retained some memories of the places he’d lived.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if Cooper and Trent, who were both a year younger, could say the same.
For all he knew, they could have obtained fake identities. And if so, his chances of finding them were slim to none.
Reconnecting with Hailey over a couple of phone calls had been enough to spur him into trying again.
“You’ll let me come with you tomorrow?”
Huh? Once again, he’d gotten lost in his own thoughts. What had Naomi asked? “I’ll bring you with me to the police station so you can get your driver’s license, and we can check on your car.” And maybe Turner would finally talk to her, although he wasn’t going to hold his breath. The guy worked at what seemed to Sawyer to be slower than a snail’s pace. “From there, I’d really like you to head home.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. He caught a glimpse of disappointment in her eyes before she turned away.
“Okay.” She finished her meal without saying anything more.
Sawyer knew she wasn’t happy with him, but what could he do? No way could he allow her to go on patrol with him. He’d lose his job if his boss ever found out. Having her stay with him was risky enough.
And taking off work wasn’t an option either. Finding Kate and Louisa meant he needed to be out there, following up on any and all possible leads.
Like returning to East Ridge.
“One thing you can do for me is show me the gas station where you saw the black Buick. Maybe we can swing by there before heading to the precinct in the morning.”