Margaret Daley - Texas Baby Pursuit

“How does your husband feel about you being the sheriff?” Again Dallas opened a door for her.

“I’m a widow. My husband died over fifteen months ago.” She slid into the front passenger seat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She had no words to reply, so she nodded.

As Dallas rounded the front of his SUV, memories inundated Rachel. How could she forgive Justin for having an affair that she didn’t even know about until after he had died in a motorcycle race? The man she married wasn’t who she’d thought he was. He’d said he wanted a child, and yet, in a text to his mistress that she discovered on his phone, he had said otherwise. And there she’d been, nearly two months pregnant with no husband. Never again. She wouldn’t let herself be fooled like that again.

When Dallas climbed behind the steering wheel and started the car, a heavy silence fell between them, which was fine with Rachel because she didn’t want to talk about her deceased husband. All her focus needed to be on the case.

“Tell me a little about your sister. Even though Paul assured me otherwise, could someone be after your sister or her husband—someone who would kidnap their baby to get back at them?”

“Lenora volunteers at church and through a woman’s club. Paul is a CPA who works for Remington Industries in San Antonio. I don’t think so.”

“An accountant with possible access to financial records?”

Dallas stopped at the red light. “The work he does is routine. He’s only been working for the company for two years. He says he’s low on the totem pole. They’ve never indicated having a problem with anyone. They get along with their neighbors, but I don’t know about everything they do during the day. My gut tells me it isn’t that.”

“You go by your gut a lot?”

“I never dismiss hunches. I understand you were a police sergeant for the Austin Police Department. Did you ever go on a hunch?”

“Sure.”

“It’s the same thing. The more we can read people, the better we are about figuring out a clue, motive or case. Take the fact a guy in a hoodie fled from the crime scene and punched you out. What was he doing there? Was he tied to the kidnappers or my sister and Paul?” The light turned green, and Dallas drove across the intersection.

“I caught him looking in the window.”

“Yes, I know, but why was he doing that? Was he a reporter? Talk about fast on the scene and bold.” Dallas shrugged.

“Why would a reporter punch me? Maybe he’s a snooping neighbor checking out what was going on?”

“Why take the risk when he would find out soon enough on the news?”

Her first instinct was that the Peeping Tom was tied to the kidnappers, and that was still the best possibility. “He may have risked coming back if there was something left behind at the crime scene that could connect him to the kidnapping.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been thinking because he punched you. A neighbor or reporter wouldn’t have gone to that extreme and risk being arrested.”

“Deputy Jones handled the crime scene. As far as I know, nothing was found other than the footprints and tire tracks, and the pacifier I discovered in the backyard.”

Dallas parked behind her sheriff’s car in his sister’s driveway. “It wouldn’t hurt to look around again while we’re here. Which window was the guy looking in?”

“I think the dining room. Everything happened so fast.” Rachel scanned the crowd of people hanging around. There were two camera crews from different television stations in San Antonio as well as local folks she recognized.

“We need to recheck for anything out of the ordinary, especially with Lenora and Paul here now.”

“I agree.” Rachel stepped down from the SUV and headed toward the Howards’ house. Working with Dallas seemed to come so naturally. She was glad he was here to help because this would be her first big test as the county sheriff.

One of her deputies stood on the front porch and another one should be at the back door. She’d hated taking time away from the investigation to go to the hospital, but at least she’d had a chance to see what else Michelle could remember and make sure she would recover. “Did Michelle say anything about the kidnappers having a gun?”

“No. She was drowsy. I was happy to get what I could out of her. But I wouldn’t be surprised if one or both had a gun. Did the guy that hit you have one?”

“I didn’t see one, but when I was trying to stem the flow of blood from her wound, it looked like the kind of damage a handle of a revolver could have done.”

His tanned complexion whitened. “Not that I’m complaining, but if he had a gun, why didn’t he shoot her rather than hit her?”

“The noise. They still had to get away without anyone seeing them.” Rachel entered his sister’s house first and strode into the living area that connected with the dining room and kitchen, checking the placement of the windows on the side of the house where she’d seen the Peeping Tom and deciding she was right. The dining room was where the man had been looking inside.

Dallas came up behind and leaned toward her. “Which window was he peeking into?”

She pointed at the one on the left in the dining room. “There.” She glanced over her shoulder, his face close to hers. A whiff of lime wafted to her. “Which doesn’t surprise me. If the couple charged into your sister’s home, the fastest way to nab Brady was through the living and dining room into the kitchen and out onto the back porch. From what you said earlier I got the impression that Brady wasn’t with her when she went to the front door.”

“Right. He was asleep on the pallet on the screened-in porch.”

“The getaway car was most likely parked behind the property on the dirt road. Why didn’t Michelle see them walking across the backyard?”

“I’m not sure. Possibly because she might have been on the floor with Brady, and the screened part is only the top half. They might not have seen her, either. Or one went to the front to distract Michelle while the other snatched Brady.” He looked toward the hallway to the bedrooms, spying his brother-in-law making his way toward them. “Paul, is Lenora awake and able to talk to us?”

She hadn’t even heard Paul coming down the corridor. Her total attention had centered on Dallas. The pain in his gaze drew her to him. The thought of losing her baby pierced through her heart like a red-hot lance. Paul and Lenora were living a parent’s worst nightmare.

“I’m getting her a glass of water. She should be able to talk after that.” The defeat in Paul’s voice filled the silence.

“We’ll be out on the porch,” Rachel said.

Paul nodded. “That’s where Deputy Jones is.” He walked past them toward the kitchen. “Dottie called and told me how Michelle was doing. I’m glad she’ll be all right.”

“Thanks.” Dallas followed his brother-in-law into the kitchen, asking what his mother said concerning his daughter.

Rachel paused in the dining room and panned the area that held a table and six chairs and a display cabinet between the two windows. Thick, brown carpeting covered the floor. The only thing on the table was an artificial flower arrangement. She moved from one chair to the next, pulling it out and seeing if anything was on the seat. Nothing. Then she knelt and looked under the cabinet and table. A glint caught her attention near a chair. She crawled to it and saw a short gold chain with a heart charm on it buried in the long fibers of the rug.

She quickly put on gloves and picked up the bracelet. On the heart were the initials DN. Was it Lenora’s? The letters didn’t match her name. Until she found out, it would remain in the evidence bag she dropped it into. Usable latent prints might be on it. She hoped it was a clue that would lead them to Brady. Was the bracelet the reason the guy had been peeping in the dining room window? She wanted it to be a clue, but it was still possible the man might have nothing to do with the case.