Barb Han - Kidnapped At Christmas

A man by the name of Clarence Sawmill introduced himself as the sheriff. Cecil recounted his story to Sawmill, who shook his head as he recorded details. His lips formed a grim line. Middle-aged, his eyes had the white outline of sunglasses on otherwise tanned skin. Deep grooves in his forehead and hard brackets around his mouth outlined the man’s stress levels. He was on high alert and, from the looks of him, had been since news broke of Maverick Mike’s death five months ago.

“Our family-oriented town doesn’t usually see much of a spike in crime.” Sawmill shook his head. For a split second his gaze stopped on Wyatt and he seemed to be sizing him up. The sheriff looked like he hadn’t slept in as many months and he probably hadn’t, considering Mike Butler’s murder still hadn’t been solved. Sawmill seemed like the kind of guy who would take his citizens’ welfare to heart.

The sheriff was holding an evidence bag.

“What did you find?” Wyatt asked.

“A child’s hair ribbon. It’s probably not connected. More than likely came out of a little girl’s hair while she was attending the tree lighting.” Sawmill pinched the bridge of his nose like he was trying to stem a raging headache. “My deputies will process the scene and we’ll keep you posted if anything relevant turns up.”

Meg thanked the sheriff as she gently bounced the baby, who had settled down in her mother’s comforting arms. He had to admit Meg seemed content with the job of mother.

The sheriff asked Meg a few routine-sounding questions. Her body language tensed when she spoke to Sawmill, but Wyatt figured it was justifiable under the circumstances. She was being asked if there was a reason anyone she knew would try to kidnap her infant child.

“We have a potential witness already on his way to the station to work with a sketch artist while the details are still fresh,” Sawmill said. “We’ll want you to come in and take a look as soon as we have an image in case you can identify him.”

Given the person had tried to take the baby while she was with Stephanie, Wyatt doubted that was likely.

Even so, he planned to reschedule his meeting with the Butler family lawyer. This day had taken unexpected turn after unexpected turn and, after getting a good look at Meg’s daughter, he had a feeling the day wasn’t done with him yet.

* * *

DINNER WAS HOURS away and yet all Meg wished for was a hot bath, a warm bed and sleep. Wyatt had said he’d been called away to a meeting, but Meg figured he needed air after the day’s events. Meg and Stephanie returned to the office since it was closer to the sheriff’s office and Aubrey had a pack-and-play crib there.

Stephanie had insisted on sticking around even though Meg had begged her friend to go to the ER instead. The most she would agree to was allowing an EMT to check her out at the scene.

“How’s your head?” Meg asked her friend.

“It’s been worse,” Stephanie said with a crooked smile.

“I still think we should swing by the hospital,” Meg said.

“My name is Stephanie Gable. It’s three weeks until Christmas. I live at 1212 Farm Road 236. With you, who should learn to relax a little more and stop washing every dish before it hits the sink, by the way.” She made eyes at Meg. “How’s that?”

“I think you took a bigger hit than we first thought,” she quipped, and they both smiled. Meg’s died on her lips the minute her cell rang.

A glance at the screen said it was the sheriff’s office. She took the call.

“We have an image to work with but, to be honest, it isn’t much to go on,” he said. Any hope this case could be sewn up and a criminal taken off the streets soon died.

“I’ll let Wyatt know and we’ll be there as soon as we can,” she informed him before ending the call and texting Wyatt.

An immediate response came: Stay where you are and I’ll pick you up.

“What did the sheriff say?” Stephanie was studying Meg’s reaction.

“He didn’t sound encouraged,” Meg admitted.

“We’ll figure this out.” Her friend’s words were meant to reassure, but did nothing to ease the knot braiding her stomach.

Meg glanced down at her sleeping baby. She’d been unable to move from the little girl’s side since... Meg couldn’t even think about what had happened, what could have happened, without tears springing to her eyes. She was so grateful to have her daughter back where she belonged.

What kind of person tried to take a baby from her mother three weeks before Christmas? Granted, the person had tried to take the little girl from Stephanie, but the attacker didn’t know the difference.

Skipping lunch had been a bad idea even though Meg doubted she could get or keep anything down. A headache was trying to form in the spot right between her eyes.

Within fifteen minutes, Aubrey had been fed and the diaper bag packed.

“He’s on his way?” Stephanie paced in the kitchenette of their office.

“He should be here any minute.” Meg cradled the warm, sleeping baby in her arms. Her miracle, considering she’d never expected to have a traditional life of marriage and a family. “You should sit down.”

Stephanie shot her an apprehensive look.

“Well, then maybe you should rethink going to the hospital to get checked out.” Meg eyed the cup of coffee in Stephanie’s shaking hand, wishing her friend had gone for the calming tea, instead.

“The ibuprofen is already kicking in. I’ll be fine. I’m just so glad...” Another stream of tears slid down Stephanie’s cheeks. She turned her back and sniffed.

“Let’s not even go there. None of this is your fault.” Meg held her baby a little closer. “And she’s right here. Fine. Look at her.”

A knock on the glass out front startled them both.

“That’s probably him,” Meg said.

“Stay right here. I’ll check.” Stephanie was out of the room in a flash and Meg figured her friend needed to work off some of her stress energy. The adrenaline would wear off soon, and she was afraid Stephanie was in for one monster headache when it did.

Her own nerves were on edge after the day’s events and thinking about seeing Wyatt again didn’t help. Based on his actions earlier, he planned to be in Aubrey’s life, and Meg would have to get used to her body’s reaction to him. Her heart seized a little bit at the thought he didn’t want to be in hers, too. What did she expect?

Sure, they’d connected last year with chemistry she’d never experienced before, and that spark between them, mentally and physically, had produced amazingly hot sex. And a baby , a little voice reminded, grounding her.

“Ready?” Wyatt examined her and the baby in her arms. He was the kind of man who would do the right thing by his child no matter how he felt personally about the child’s mother. On the one hand, there was something encouraging about the sentiment. At least Aubrey would have a father.

Meg stood and reached for the diaper bag. Wyatt moved beside her in a beat, taking it from her. He hadn’t asked to hold the baby yet, and this was the closest he’d been to her since they’d found her. Not exactly encouraging, but it could’ve been so much worse.

Based on the crease in his forehead, the one he got when he was deeply contemplating something, he needed a little time to process. His daughter had almost been kidnapped.

“Wyatt, meet your daughter, Aubrey,” Meg said.

A flash of emotion passed behind his eyes as he looked at her but he seemed to get hold of it. “She’s a pretty little girl.”

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he said.

Fifteen minutes later, the four of them arrived at the sheriff’s office.

Janis, the sheriff’s receptionist, rose to her feet. “We’ve spoken on the phone a few times. Come on in. The sheriff is waiting for you.” She wrapped Meg and the baby in a big hug before leading them down the hall.