Paula Graves - Chickasaw County Captive

Kristen stared at the photo, remembering with growing excitement the picture she had helped Maddy color the day before. Maddy had chosen a dark blue crayon and said there was an “ABC” on the front of the cap.

“Could this be Darryl Morris?” Kristen asked Sam.

“Maybe. The photo’s not great so it’s hard to be sure.”

Kristen’s cell phone rang. It was Foley. “Excuse me a second.” She stepped a few feet away and answered. “Tandy.”

“It’s me. I’ve got a bead on Darryl Morris.”

“You mean you’re looking at him right now?”

“Yeah-had to drive all the way to Birmingham to do it, too,” Foley answered.

“Where are you now?”

“Parked outside the shipping company where he works. He just walked in. Did you get a look at the letters he sent Cooper? Do we have probable cause to pick him up?”

“What was he wearing?”

Foley was silent a second. “Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me what he was wearing.”

“Jeans, a tan jacket, blue Braves cap-”

Kristen looked over at Sam and Maddy, anticipation surging into her veins. “Oh, yeah,” she said with a broad grin. “We have probable cause.”

“DETECTIVE TANDY REALLY thinks he’s the one?” Norah asked Sam later when he met her for lunch in town. She glanced at Maddy, who clung to Sam like a little leech.

Sam coaxed Maddy into one of the chairs lining the sandwich shop window. “He fits the description of the man who left the photos at the office earlier today. The police were already looking at him because of the angry letters he sent me after his son’s case was settled. We think he’s the one.”

Norah took the seat across from him, careful not to encroach on Maddy’s space. “Then maybe this is really over.”

“It won’t really be over until Cissy wakes up and is okay,” Sam said soberly, thinking about the way his niece had looked the last time he’d visited her hospital room.

“Of course,” Norah said with a sympathetic nod. “But Maddy is safe, at least.”

He hoped so. After the scares of the past couple of days, he wasn’t quite ready to let her out of his sight.

“I have to go back to D.C. I’d only taken a couple of days off to go to the Hamptons, and I’ve had a case blow up on me that I really need to attend to.” Norah waited for the waitress to bring water to the table before she continued. “I’ve already arranged for the nice people at Limbaugh Motors to take me to the airport this afternoon. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“That wasn’t necessary-”

“I think it was,” Norah said gently. “I made a decision four years ago because I thought it was the right thing for everyone involved. I still think it was.”

He looked down at Maddy, who was playing with the colorful place mat on the table, oblivious to their conversation. At least he hoped she was. “So, back to how things were before?”

“Yes.” She leaned a little closer, her eyes full of regret but also determination. “I’ll never be what she needs. We both know that. It makes no sense for me to disrupt her life every once in a while just because of biology. She won’t understand why I always leave again. She’ll think it’s something she’s done when it really has nothing to do with her at all.”

Sam would never understand how Norah could walk away from her daughter, but he also believed she was sincere in saying she didn’t want to cause Maddy harm.

It was time to let Norah go completely and move on. No more hopes for something changing.

Norah wasn’t going to change.

“I would like frequent updates, however,” Norah added. “To know how the two of you are getting along.”

“I’ll e-mail you.”

The waitress approached with menus. Sam took one and bent to show Maddy what the children’s menu included. As she weighed the merits of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich versus chicken fingers, Sam glanced at Norah and found her smiling.

“I was right,” she said. “You were meant to be a father.”

On that, he thought, they could agree.

“Are you going to sit in on the interrogation?” Norah asked later, after the waitress had brought their orders.

“Detective Tandy wouldn’t let me.”

Norah smiled. “She’s quite the little authoritarian.”

“She’s right. It would be a conflict of interests.”

“But she’ll whisper the details in your ear later, no doubt.”

Sam tried not to react to Norah’s sly tone. She was clearly fishing for information about his relationship with Kristen, and since he didn’t know how to define it himself, playing Norah’s game would be folly.

“If she’s as good at interrogating suspects as she is at interrogating innocent people like me, Mr. Morris should break in no time.” Norah settled back in her chair with a wry smile.

Sam hoped she was right. Because if Darryl Morris wasn’t the person who’d tried to kidnap Maddy, then Sam and the cops were back to square one.

“THIS IS YOU IN THE surveillance video, isn’t it?” Kristen reached into the manila envelope lying on the table, pulled out the screen grab the deputy had supplied and slid it toward Darryl Morris.

Morris looked down at the photo, his complexion shiny with sweat. Morris had grown increasingly unnerved since the Birmingham Police had transferred him over to her custody. The interview room she’d placed him in wasn’t air-conditioned, by design, but it wasn’t hot enough to warrant the perspiration dripping down the man’s sallow cheeks. He looked queasy, well aware he’d been caught red-handed.

“That could be anyone.”

“Anyone wearing a tan windbreaker and a Braves cap.”

“Exactly.” Morris looked at Foley, who’d remained quiet to this point. “There’s gotta be a lot of guys out there with Braves caps.”

“Who also happened to send angry letters to Sam Cooper?” Foley asked reasonably.

“And took pictures at Maddy’s preschool while Maddy was in attendance?” Kristen added.

“I’m a part-time photographer. Big deal.”

“Apparently a courier, as well.” Kristen tapped the photo.

“Jeez, okay. I dropped off a package at the D.A.’s office. Is that some sort of crime?”

“A terroristic threat comes to mind,” Kristen said to Foley. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’d think that’s fair.”

Morris’s eyes widened. “Wait a second-terroristic threat? Sure, I wrote the jerk a couple of letters, but I didn’t make any threats.”

Kristen pulled a piece of paper from the envelope and placed it on the table in front of Morris. It was a full-size photocopy of the handwritten threat on the back of the last photo.

“What does that say, Mr. Morris?” she asked.

He stared at the words. “I didn’t write that.”

“That was in the envelope you delivered to Sam Cooper.”

“I didn’t know what was in the envelope.”

“Why not?” Kristen prodded.

“Some guy paid me ten bucks to deliver it.”

“You needed ten bucks that bad?” Kristen asked, skeptical. “Come on, Darryl. You don’t really expect me to buy this.”

“‘Your child for mine.’” Foley read the phrase written on the paper aloud, letting his tongue linger over each word. “You lost your son in a terrible accident.”

“He was murdered.”

“Sam Cooper didn’t see it that way,” Foley said.

“Wasn’t his kid!”

“But Maddy Cooper is.” Kristen leaned closer, dropping her voice a level. “Must be hard for you, watching Maddy Cooper running around the playground, so full of life and promise.”

“No,” Morris said, shaking his head. “I think her father’s a bootlicking political hack, but I’d never hurt a kid.”