| |
Cecily tossed and turned until after two, and woke up before six, feeling as though a squadron of scorpions had invaded her body. After turning the volume on her cell phone as high as it would go and setting it on the bathroom counter, she showered and got dressed. Still no call from Heather. Or from Derek, so Grady wasn’t back. Bryce hadn’t called her, either, but she hadn’t expected him to. Because she was a wreck and it would have been nice to have someone around to lean on didn’t mean Bryce understood.
You could have said something last night when you got home.
But she hadn’t. Just the opposite. She’d been afraid he’d expected them to have sex, and sex was the last thing on her mind last night. Or now. So she’d sent him home, not that he’d asked to come up, or seemed disappointed when she hadn’t. But damn it all, she was falling in love with him. That couldn’t happen. Life with Bryce would be one argument after the other.
But there was always make up sex.
Screw you, Bryce Barrett.
She called Heather’s number at Protective Services. A nameless and bored sounding receptionist told her Heather was out of the office, but she’d make sure she got the message.
“Is there a way you can page her?” Cecily asked. “It’s important. One of Heather’s charges is missing, and we’re trying to find him. I need to talk to her, ask her some questions.”
“What’s the name of the missing child?”
“Grady Fenton.”
“How old is he?”
“Seventeen.”
From the ensuing silence, Cecily knew that signaled the end of the conversation. Maybe she should have said seven.
After a pause, the receptionist came back with, “Where was he placed?”
“On the Triple-D Ranch as part of a pilot work program, Helping Through Horses.”
“Ma’am, I’ll relay the message.”
Cecily thanked her as politely as she could and hung up.
It might be Cecily’s day off, but going to the station seemed her best course of action. There, people who could make things move and cut red tape with El Paso County might be willing to help her.
Unable to bear the thought of eating, she added a heavy dose of milk and sugar to her coffee. Not a nutritious breakfast, but at least there was something other than caffeine for her body to work with.
She grabbed her file on Grady, plus the list of questions they’d come up with at the ranch last night, and headed out. Andy was in the breakroom. Cecily perused the cookies someone had brought, but her stomach said not yet.
“I understand you had more trouble on the ranch,” he said. “Your missing kid show up yet? Sandefur filled me in.”
Cecily shook her head. “No, and I wonder if you could help me if you’re not on a call.”
Andy tossed a crumpled napkin into the trash. “I’m clear. What do you need?”
Everything.
“I don’t know where to start. Grady was picked up in El Paso County, and he’s seventeen, so there’s no way a mere unsworn dispatcher from up here is going to be able to access any of his police records. All I have is a sentence or two from the social worker’s file. Sandefur thought Grady might have gone home, and I have no clue where that might be. Can you find out? I thought I’d check with his parents.”
“Sure. I’ll let you know.” He headed for the door, then turned. “I thought you were off today.”
Was Andy following her schedule? Would he expect payment for the favor? Or was this a cop-to-not-an-actual-cop favor? She felt his expectant gaze.
“I am, but at least here, I feel like I’m helping, not writing Grady off.”
“I understand. If I find anything, I’ll let you know. For what it’s worth, even if the odds are ninety percent in favor of Grady taking off on his own, I’ve seen enough of the other ten percent to understand what you must be going through. I’ll run a check on the local hospitals, too.”
“I appreciate it. Thanks.” His gaze burned more intense. She assessed him again. As a male, there was nothing wrong with him, and unlike Bryce, he seemed to accept her gut reaction Grady had disappeared against his will. But no zings.
With Bryce, for better or worse, whether they were fighting or kissing, there were always zings.
“If you need anything else, give a call. You have my cell number, right?” he said.
“Yep.” She didn’t, but she knew where to find it.
She found a vacant station in the deputies’ work room and laid out her paperwork. She had her list of questions to answer.
Take them one at a time. Pretend it’s a Dispatch call. Get the information you need.
Trouble was, she didn’t have anyone on the other end of a phone line to answer the questions.
What did she know? Grady was seventeen, almost eighteen, and had run away from home. Until being picked up in the Springs, he hadn’t been in any trouble with the law.
Okay. Next. Family. She re-read Heather’s notes. Mother, stepfather, no siblings.
Home address. Blank.
Last known address. She logged onto the computer at the workstation and, although she couldn’t access police databases, Google wasn’t off limits. She plugged in the address Grady had given. What the—? It was a park, for God’s sake. Had Heather checked this? Or had she seen getting Grady into Helping Through Horses as a way to cross him off her list and rushed him through the system? Or maybe she figured because he was so close to eighteen, she could cut corners.
Maybe the police report would be more thorough. Surely the Colorado Springs cops would have recognized the address as Stargate Park. Wouldn’t they? Or would they have rushed through the paperwork, too?
Or, had Grady really been living at the park? She checked the website. Picnic area, a pavilion and restrooms. Complaints were about panhandlers and not enough police supervision. She could see Grady hanging around there.
Known associates. How was she supposed to know? Go to Stargate Park and look for homeless people and panhandlers, and flash Grady’s picture around? Which would assume he’d hung around there and hadn’t given Heather the address to keep her from finding out where he lived. Or didn’t live.
Cecily rubbed the back of her neck, trying to fend off what she knew would be a rampaging headache. She needed to eat something soon.
Andy was a detective. Would it be leading him on to suggest they get something to eat so she could figure out how to approach what appeared to be a series of dead ends? No, she’d grab a cookie or something from vending, then pose her questions. One professional to another.
Or would it be smarter to ask Derek? Keep it in the family. Keep anything that might be construed as negative about Helping Through Horses off the radar. When he’d worked for Blackthorne, his work must have included gathering information. Did he have contacts there who might help him?
“There you are.” Andy’s voice came from over her shoulder. She craned her neck to meet his gaze. His face broke into a smile. “Working hard, I see.”
“Keeping the chair warm is about all I’ve been able to accomplish.” She showed him her notes—or rather lack thereof.
“You’re asking the right questions.” His mouth curved and he nodded. “Solid detective work.”
No need for her to mention it had been Derek, Bryce, and Frank who had come up with them. “That’s the easy part. How am I supposed to find answers if Grady either lied or withheld information? Or if the social worker didn’t bother to ask?” She explained her theory, that Heather had wanted to rush Grady off her plate.
“It’s possible. I think social workers are even more overloaded than cops.”
“So what do I do?” she asked. “I can’t believe he’d run away. He seemed like a nice, honest kid.”
“One of the first lessons in being a cop is that things aren’t always what they seem. You can’t take anything at face value. Even someone’s name. I did some digging and tracked down his home address.”
“You did? Great. I’ll call his parents.”
“No need. I made a couple of calls.” His expression was somber, and Cecily’s stomach sank.
“He’s from Appleton, Wisconsin.” Andy glanced around the room, where deputies were filing in and out. One rookie approached Cecily’s borrowed station and asked if she was almost finished.
She smiled inwardly at his polite approach. She was usurping the deputy’s domain, and he could have kicked her off.
She logged off the computer and smiled. “Yep. Just borrowed it for a couple of minutes. It’s all yours.” She turned to Andy. “Can we go somewhere quiet, and you can fill me in?”
“I was going to grab some breakfast. We could talk there.”
She agreed, hoping, like the last time, that he wouldn’t think he was making progress with her on a personal level. A pang of guilt shot through her. She shook it off. She needed to know what he’d learned, and dismissed the feeling. Most of it, anyway.
Again, she met him at the sandwich shop, where they were still serving breakfast. She ordered a bagel to nibble on while Andy chose a full breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and eggs.
“You sure that’s all you want?” he asked. “My treat.”
“No, you’ve done enough by finding Grady’s parents. I should be buying you breakfast. I ate before coming to the station,” she lied. She stirred cream into her coffee. “What did you find out?”
“First, I couldn’t talk to the parents. I got a housekeeper who said they were off on a riverboat cruise in Europe somewhere. She didn’t have any specifics, or a way to contact them. She comes in once a week to dust and water the plants.”
Europe? Housekeeper? Sounded like there was more money at home than she’d thought. She adjusted her assumptions about Grady’s life before running away. “So if they’re in Europe, they didn’t come—or send—for Grady.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t decide to go home,” Andy said.
“Sandefur’s good as a deputy, but you’re a detective. If Grady was leaving, he’d have taken his things. Sandefur’s theory that Grady might’ve wanted to delay the discovery of his being missing doesn’t work for me. It’s not like anyone would have checked on him that evening. Why the books and cushions on the floor?”
When Andy lifted an eyebrow in question, Cecily explained.
“Could mean he wanted you to think someone had taken him,” Andy said. “If he had brains, he wouldn’t have stopped at a few pillows and books. I can follow up with some contacts I have in Wisconsin,” he continued, “but it won’t be quick. I don’t have enough favors to pull in to have someone canvass the neighbors without more to go on.”
Which was the same thing she’d been hearing from everyone. Was she the only one who thought foul play was a reality? Or was she the only one who was making a fool out of herself by believing it was true?
Bryce pulled up to the barn a little after seven. So much for getting the morning off and staying with Cecily. He didn’t want to risk another fight, or give her a chance to say she’d made a mistake with their aborted night together, so when she’d said she wanted to be alone, he hadn’t tried to change her mind.
Why? Why couldn’t he tell her how he felt? Was he so afraid of rejection?
Rather than analyze his feelings, Bryce found Derek in the barn, mucking out stalls.
“No need for you to do that,” Bryce said. “I told you I’d be here.”
Derek paused his shoveling. “I know. I couldn’t sleep. Figured a little physical labor would help get my mind off Grady.”
“You think someone took him?” Bryce asked.
“One minute I do, the next I don’t. The evidence points both ways.”
“If he was out with his friends, wouldn’t he be back by now?”
Derek gave a sharp laugh. “Kid’s been stuck on a ranch working with—as he so aptly put it—shit. He sees a chance to get away for a while, maybe get lucky, or at least run with kids closer to his age, and he takes it. He’s already shown poor judgment in his choice of associates, so I can accept he might have gotten in over his head.”
“Did you hear from the phone company?”
“Still waiting.” Derek shoveled up a huge pile of bedding. “Grady knew where he would be staying days in advance—at least the name of the ranch, and with that much information, anyone over the age of eight could find us.”
“Thought about calling in your buddies at Blackthorne?” Bryce asked.
This time Derek’s laugh wasn’t as sharp. “Thought about it. Dismissed it. This isn’t the kind of case they’d take. They don’t owe me anything.”
“Not as a case, but to run a background check on Grady? Would they take that on? You could vouch for me. I’d pay them.” Bryce had never worked for Blackthorne, but he’d seen what they did, and what they could do. And, he admitted to himself, it might earn him some make up points with Cecily if he could provide new information about Grady.
Derek’s laugh was a genuine guffaw this time. “I don’t pay you enough to afford Blackthorne’s prices, not even for a routine background check.”
Bryce grinned. “So, give me a raise.”
“Am I hearing things, or did you crack a joke?” Derek said.
Bryce shrugged and picked up the fork. Derek disappeared into the storeroom and Bryce started in on the next stall.
He might not understand what kind of a relationship Cecily and he had, but he wasn’t ready to give up on it. He might not understand the why, but Cecily had a way of occupying his thoughts, of making him feel like more than a cowhand. Not that he didn’t love being a cowhand. Did they fight so much because she wanted more than a cowhand?
Derek’s cell phone rang, and a moment later he came over to the stall Bryce was cleaning. “That was Cecily. Grady’s parents are on a European cruise. Have been for over a week now.”
“Which means they wouldn’t have called for Grady to come home.”
“We have a lead,” Derek said. “Grady’s stepfather didn’t adopt him. Cecily’s detective friend did some digging. The family name is Talburt, not Fenton. We have an address for his parents in Appleton, Wisconsin.”
“You’re not thinking of going to his house, are you?” Bryce asked.
“No, of course not. As long as you’re here mucking stalls, I might spend a few minutes doing another kind of mucking around. See what I can dig up about Grady’s former home life. I’ll be in my study if you need me.”
After Derek left, Bryce let his mind float as he went through the familiar motions. He had three stalls left to go when he remembered Cecily’s thoughts last night, about Grady leaving his missing book in the barn.
Bryce set the fork against the wall and went into the tack room. Nothing out of place on a first glance, but he opened the drawers and searched them. No book. He went into the storeroom, wondering why it mattered.
Because it was a loose end, and Cecily had thought it might be important.
Nothing in the storeroom, but what about the converted stall? When he found the copy of The Maltese Falcon wedged between the edge of the cot and the wall, he turned it upside down and gave it a shake. No tell-tale notes, no scraps of paper with names or phone numbers. It was what it looked like. A book, apparently well-read. Whether by Grady or a multitude of prior readers—no way to tell.
Bryce didn’t think it could be a clue to Grady’s whereabouts, given it appeared he’d been taken from his quarters after he’d left the barn, but it was another t to cross in their search. Eliminating things that had no bearing on an investigation was as important as finding the ones that did.
Telling himself Cecily would want to know, denying he wanted to see if their night apart had smoothed some of the sharp edges from their relationship, he punched her number into his cell phone.
“Bryce?” she answered. “Did Grady come back?”
From the background voices and clattering of dishes, Bryce assumed Cecily was out to breakfast. Not having breakfast in bed with him. “No, sorry. But I found his book. Thought you’d want to know.”
“You did? Great! Where was it? Did it have any clues to his whereabouts?”
“In the barn, and no, it’s just a book as far as I can tell.”
A voice—a male voice filtered through the phone. Close. Not background. Familiar. Andy.
She’d blown Bryce off last night and was having breakfast with Andy? On her day off?
He couldn’t see Cecily as someone juggling a stable of boyfriends. Was he her boyfriend? He thought of her as a girlfriend—sort of. They’d never formalized the relationship, never talked about exclusivity.
Of course she’d turn to Andy for help. They were colleagues, after all. She worked in a male-dominated office, so it was natural she’d have male friends.
“Did Andy come up with anything besides what you already told Derek?” he asked, keeping his voice even.
“Not yet, but he’s going to keep looking.”
“Derek’s going to be looking, too,” Bryce said. He blurted out the next before he could change his mind. “You can come to the ranch. You know, exercise Ginger, and maybe Derek will have more information.”
He held back the unless you and Andy have plans.
A pause. “Maybe this afternoon,” she said.
Say it, coward.
“I’d like to see you.” He croaked out the words. Her silence set his heart thumping.
After an eternity, she came back on the line. “Okay. Maybe I can be there for lunch.”
He found his voice. “See you then.”
Listening to her answer, his heart pounded, but for an entirely different reason.
With renewed energy and a lighter heart, Bryce finished the last of the stalls. The manure spreader was full. Since they’d left the Gator at the guesthouse, he was about to head there to fetch it when Derek found him.
“Our boy Grady is full of surprises.” Derek jerked his head toward the ranch house. “Come take a look.”
Bryce followed him to the house, stopping in the mudroom to remove his manure-covered boots. Derek waited in the kitchen, sipping a mug of coffee. Bryce helped himself to one as well—after a lousy night’s sleep, he could use the jolt.
He paused at the sound of a car driving up, and peered out the window. Could someone be dropping Grady off? No, it was Tanya’s Focus. For a moment, Bryce wondered if the two of them had spent the night together, but she entered alone. Another peek out the window didn’t reveal Grady sneaking to the guesthouse, and Bryce would have noticed if she’d driven to the guesthouse and back.
Tanya greeted them with a warm smile. “Morning, Mr. Barrett. Mr. Cooper.”
She stuck a towel in a belt loop of her jeans. “As long as you’re both here, you have any special requests for today? Early bird gets to choose.”
“Anything you cook is fine,” Derek said. “It’ll just be me and Bryce for breakfast today. Lunch as usual.” Derek set his mug on the counter. “Tanya, when’s the last time you saw Grady?”
She frowned, searched the ceiling. “Guess it was lunchtime yesterday.” Her mouth wiggled back and forth. “There a problem?”
“Nobody’s seen or heard from him since he finished his chores yesterday,” Derek said.
Her big brown eyes went round. “No way.”
“Afraid so,” Derek said. “Did he ever say anything to you that would give an idea of where he went?”
She shook her head. “Only talked to him one time, when he first come.” She lowered her gaze, talking to the floor. “I brought him some fried chicken. Chef Sabrina said it was okay.”
“Not a problem, Tanya,” Derek said. “Can you share what you talked about?”
“Not much. Usual stuff. Where he come from, you know,” she said.
Bryce stepped closer. “Tanya, anything at all might help. Can you remember specifics?”
“Told me he thought the cheese hats was funny, him being from Wisconsin. Talked about his mamma a bit. How nothin’ he did made her happy, so he tried to be invisible. You know, not letting anyone know he was smart. Coulda’ got As, but got Cs instead.”
“Very good, Tanya,” Derek said.
The cook beamed. “I wish I knew more, but we didn’t talk long. Mostly I wanted to know what foods he liked.” She ducked her head again, spoke to the floor. “Not that I’d’ve done anything you cowboys wouldn’t like just because he said he liked something different.”
“Anytime you want to try something new, you go for it.” Derek cocked his head. “As long as it’s not liver.”
Tanya laughed. “Even with bacon?”
“Not even bacon can fix liver,” Bryce added.
“You’ve been a big help,” Derek said. “We’ll let you get on with breakfast.”
She gave an almost evil grin. “Maybe I can try some new recipes.”
Derek refilled his coffee mug and chinned toward the door. “We’ll be in the study if you need us.”
Bryce trailed after Derek to the study. “What good does knowing Grady was smart—and didn’t want anyone to know it—do for us?”
“Tells us he might have orchestrated his getaway, but I doubt it.” Derek motioned Bryce to the computer. “Not just smart, but rich, too.”
“Are you talking ransom?” Bryce asked.