Mysterious Abduction (Badge 0f Honor Mystery Book 1)

by Rita Herron

  Cora squeezed Julie’s hand. She’d been so wrapped up in her own pain and terror that she hadn’t considered anyone’s feelings but her own. “I guess that’s the reason you reacted so strongly when I chased down that woman at the mall.”

  Julie started to say something, but Cora threw up a warning hand. “I’m not making excuses for it. It was wrong. I’m sure I terrified that poor lady. I understand now why you told Drew.”

  Julie’s brows wrinkled. “I didn’t tell Drew about that day.”

  Cora narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t?”

  Julie shook her head no. “I went home and cried and rocked Brian for hours. I felt so sorry for you. I wanted to make it up to you, but I didn’t know how.”

  “If you didn’t tell Drew, how did he find out?” Cora asked.

  “I have no idea. The only person I told was Jimmy.”

  “Do you think he called Drew and told him?”

  “No, I made him promise not to,” Julie admitted. “Besides, he was too worried about me. I hadn’t been sleeping and was falling apart at home. He insisted I talk to a therapist the next day, and I did.”

  “You went to therapy?”

  Julie nodded. “I should have gone when we first couldn’t conceive. The counselor helped me understand my feelings and learn to control my anxiety about the possibility of losing Brian.”

  “Oh, Julie, I’m so sorry,” Cora said. “I should have been there for you.”

  “No, you were looking for your baby,” Julie said brokenly. “There’s no one to blame, Cora. It was just a horrible situation.”

  And Drew had made it worse for Cora by giving all of her baby things away.

  The question still nagged at her, though. If Julie hadn’t told Drew about the incident at the mall, how had he known?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jacob moved from window to window, looking inside Evie Hanson’s house.

  She was gone.

  On the off chance she’d left something, anything behind, even a scrap of paper with a forwarding address, he walked around to the back of the house and checked the door. Locked. On the far side, he found the laundry room window ajar, so he climbed through it.

  A washer and dryer remained. He peeked inside the dryer and found a lone little pink sock.

  His heart twisted.

  A child’s sock, a little girl probably about the same age as Alice.

  He stuck it in his pocket and moved from the laundry room into the hallway, then the kitchen. He scanned the room and searched the drawers. Cleaned out, as well.

  Dammit.

  He searched the living room next, combed through the coat closet and desk. He glanced inside and found it empty, then ran his hand along the top shelf. Nothing but dust.

  Frustrated, he strode down the hallway to the first bedroom. A bed and dresser, but nothing inside the chest or closet, either.

  The bathroom yielded a couple of bandages with cartoon imprints, a nail file and a little pink toothbrush. His instincts kicked in, and he removed a baggie from inside his pocket and bagged the toothbrush for DNA analysis.

  If it matched Alice’s, he’d ask the crime scene techs to search for prints. He also needed to research Evie’s banking information, find out if she rented or owned, and if she’d left a forwarding address.

  He moved to the smaller bedroom. The twin bed suggested it belonged to the child. Marks from where posters and pictures had been removed discolored the lavender walls. Bare shelves in the closet, although some digging unearthed a book caught in a corner. It was a children’s book about giving a mouse a cookie. The soft cover was tattered, the pages worn, the book obviously well-loved.

  He bagged the book then skimmed his hand along the top of the shelf. His hand brushed something in the back, and he stretched his hand and snagged the item. A small notebook.

  He opened it and found pictures the child had drawn.

  One picture stood out. It was a Christmas tree with a string of colorful lights.

  Cora liked to draw. Could this child be Alice?

  * * *

  JULIE GESTURED TOWARD Cora’s sketchbook. “I see you’re still drawing,” Julie said. “Working on anything in particular?”

  Cora closed her journal. If she was going to be friends with Julie again, she had to be honest. Sane but honest.

  “It may sound strange, but I’ve sketched images of what I think Alice would look like over the years.”

  Worry flashed across Julie’s face, then a gentle smile. “You must think about her every day.” She reached for the sketchbook. “Can I take a look?”

  Cora shrugged. “Actually I’m just starting a new series. I...gave some of the sketches to the sheriff to send to the FBI. They’re going to distribute to law enforcement agencies and NCMEC.”

  “It’s great that you can do something to help,” Julie said.

  “I don’t know if it will,” Cora admitted. “I wonder how much Alice has changed. If I’d even recognize her.”

  A sad look passed across Julie’s face. “I have a feeling you will.”

  Cora’s gaze met hers, her compassion a reminder of Julie’s confession about her own anxiety.

  “Well, we’ll see. The FBI is coordinating with a special news segment about missing persons’ and children’s cases. I’m hoping someone will recognize her and come forward.”

  Julie squeezed her hand again. “I’ll pray that happens, Cora.”

  They held hands for a moment, the anger and bitterness that had driven them apart slipping away. After the last few lonely years, it was comforting to have a female friend. Someone who wasn’t a shrink.

  Brian ran over, his cheeks red from playing. “Mommy, can we get ice cream now?”

  Julie smiled and ruffled her son’s hair. “Of course.” She turned to Cora. “Would you like to go with us?”

  Cora hesitated, but decided it was time she started behaving like a friend. Maybe having Julie back in her life would help ease the loneliness of the summer.

  And waylay the feelings she had for Jacob.

  She would just have to keep her obsession with staring at every little girl for her daughter’s face under control.

  She gathered her things and walked beside Julie as they crossed the park to the street, then the ice cream store. The boys’ excitement was contagious. As soon as they entered the ice cream parlor, Brian and his friend Tony started counting the different flavors.

  It took twenty minutes for them to decide while she and Julie chose their favorite, mint chocolate chip, a common love they’d discovered the first time they met. They sat at a small table outside and the kids licked their cones, the summer breeze stirring the scent of flowers and an impending rain shower.

  Down the street at the bookstore, she saw Faye and Nina exiting, Nina chattering and holding hands with her mother. Cora’s heart swelled with longing, but she forced herself to turn away.

  The boys finished their cones, and Julie handed them napkins to clean their faces. “Guess we’d better go,” Julie said. “I have to get Brian’s friend home.” She paused as she stood. “What are you doing?”

  Cora offered a smile, her brows knitting as a few raindrops began to fall. “I need to pick up a rental car.”

  “I can give you a lift if you want,” Julie offered.

  Cora tossed her trash into the bin. “I’d appreciate that.”

  Together they walked to Julie’s minivan and climbed in. “Where are you living now?”

  “The cottage Drew and I bought. After we split, I moved in permanently.”

  Julie gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about your divorce, Cora. That must have been difficult.”

  Cora lifted her chin. “I’m fine now.”

  “I can’t believe Hilary and Drew ended up together.” Julie’s voice softened. “I want you to know t
hat I stopped hanging out with her after they got married. It just...didn’t seem right.”

  “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle.” Cora meant it, too.

  Julie’s comment triggered the memory of Jacob’s question. She’d been shocked when she’d realized Drew and Hilary were getting close.

  Hilary had stopped by personally to tell her about their engagement. She claimed she felt bad, but that Drew was hurting over Alice’s disappearance, too. That she’d tried to be there for Cora, but Cora had pushed her away.

  While consoling Drew, they’d fallen in love.

  Maybe the divorce had been her fault. In her anguish, she’d pushed him right into Hilary’s arms.

  * * *

  JACOB FLIPPED THE pages of the drawing pad and discovered other childlike pictures, then one of a baby crib that was empty. Curiosity filled him, but he couldn’t make too much out of the drawings. They could mean nothing.

  Still, he’d send them to the lab with everything else.

  He finished searching the closet, but found nothing else, then walked back through the house. “Where are you, Evie? Do you have Cora’s daughter?”

  He left through the back door, scanned the property and noted a neighbor’s car next door. The houses were situated on small lots with shrubbery in between.

  The houses directly across the street looked vacant, but the green sedan in the drive of the ranch next door indicated someone was home. He hurried up the drive, noting the wreath of spring flowers on the door and the bird feeder in the front yard. A swing set sat in the backyard, visible from the front stoop, and a soccer goal occupied the corner by the fence.

  Jacob knocked on the door, tapping his foot as he waited. A minute later, the door swung open, and a boy about ten grinned at him with mud on his face. Jacob couldn’t help but smile. The boy reminded him of mud fights and makeshift obstacle courses with his brothers in the backyard when he was that age.

  “Hey,” the boy said with a toothy grin.

  Jacob smiled back. “Is your mother or your father here?”

  “Ridley, what are you doing?” A woman’s voice screeched. “I told you not to open the door to strangers.”

  A thirtysomething woman appeared in jeans and a T-shirt, wiping her hands on a dish towel, something that looked like chocolate frosting on her face. Maybe it was frosting on the kid’s face, too.

  “But Mama, he’s a cop,” Ridley said. “I seen his police car out the window.”

  “You saw it, not seen it,” his mother corrected. She turned her attention to Jacob. “Sheriff?”

  “Yes, Sheriff Maverick. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”

  She patted her son’s shoulder. “Ridley, Inez needs some playtime. Why don’t you take her out back and throw the tennis ball with her?”

  “But Mama,” Ridley said. “He’s the sheriff.” His eyes grew big with interest.

  His mother smiled. “I know, and I promise to tell you if something is interesting, but please take Inez out before she has an accident on the carpet.”

  “All right,” Ridley said, glum faced.

  Jacob winked at the boy. “If I need you, buddy, I’ll find you outside. Okay?”

  Ridley bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “’Kay.” Then he ran toward the back room calling the dog’s name.

  The mother escorted Jacob to the kitchen, where she could keep an eye on her son and the dog. Outside, the scruffy mutt ran in circles as she chased the tennis ball Ridley tossed to her.

  “So,” the woman said as she seated herself at the pine table. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

  “Mrs....?”

  “Owens,” she said. “Dayna. My husband owns the hardware store up the way.”

  “Right. Well, I’ll get to the point. Did you know the woman who lived next door?”

  She nodded, but a frown creased her brows. “I met Evie a few times in passing, but we didn’t really visit much. She kept to herself.”

  “And her daughter? What was her name?”

  “Twyla,” Dayna said. “She was adorable. Five, and full of energy and creativity. That child loved to draw and sing. Occasionally she and Ridley played outside together, but Evie seemed nervous and protective. Why are you asking about Evie, Sheriff? Did something happen to her?”

  Jacob gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. I wanted to talk to her about a connection she may have had to the hospital in Whistler five years ago, but it appears she moved out.”

  Dayna leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “That was odd.”

  “Where was the little girl’s father?” Jacob asked.

  Dayna shrugged. “It was just Evie. Her husband died in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jacob swallowed. “Did she appear to be upset about anything lately? Or did Twyla?”

  “No, but like I said, they kept to themselves. I did see a delivery truck bringing in a baby crib one day about a month ago. Last week, when I asked Evie about it, she said she’d hoped to get a little boy, but it didn’t work out.”

  Jacob narrowed his eyes. “She hoped to get a little boy?”

  “Yes, they adopted Twyla. Evie was going to adopt again. I don’t know what happened but she moved the next day.”

  She stretched to see Ridley in the yard and seemed relieved to see him climbing the jungle gym while the dog plopped down beside him and chewed on a stick.

  “What day was that?”

  “Saturday. That morning I saw her packing her things in her car. I went over to inquire, but she waved and took off as if she was in a hurry. I thought something was wrong but didn’t get to ask.”

  Jacob chewed the inside of his cheek. Saturday.

  Dammit. That was the day after Kurt Philips had been murdered.

  * * *

  CORA THANKED JULIE as she dropped her at the rental car company, and they agreed to get together later in the week.

  A few raindrops splattered the ground as she drove home, so she parked quickly and hurried up the steps. She paused as she fished out her keys.

  A gift basket with a bright purple bow sat in front of the doorway.

  She stooped to pick it up and read the card.

  A friendship offering from Whistler Mountain Realty. Faye.

  It felt as if a ray of sunshine had splintered through the dark cloud hanging over her. First Julie and now Faye.

  Hope sprouted that her world was about to turn around and get brighter. If it wasn’t raining, she might start that garden today, but she’d wait till tomorrow for the rain to pass.

  She unlocked the door and carried the basket inside. A chill invaded her, and she made a cup of coffee, then laid her sketchpad on the table in front of the window overlooking the mountains.

  Then she turned to examine the items in the gift basket. A lavender-scented candle and lavender-scented bath soaps. A box of chocolates. An assortment of brownies and cookies in a tin.

  Yum, she was a chocoholic.

  Deciding the brownie would be perfect with her coffee, she removed one from the tin and set it on the table with a mug of coffee. She settled down in front of the window and opened her sketchpad, then began another sketch. This one of Alice eating an ice cream cone.

  Only she had no idea what her daughter’s favorite flavor was.

  Stewing over the possibilities, she sketched the ice cream parlor with the dozens of choices, nibbling on the brownie as she drew.

  Suddenly, though, her throat thickened. She coughed, gagging for a breath. She tried to sip the coffee to wash the brownie down but choked, and coffee spewed from her mouth.

  She clutched her throat, desperate for air. God. She was having an allergic reaction. There must have been peanut oil in the brownie.

  Her head felt light, the room swimming. She pushed
away from the table and staggered toward her purse. Her EpiPen was inside.

  One shot and she’d be fine.

  Only the room twirled. She gasped. Her purse was just out of reach, her fingers clawing for it as darkness swept her into its abyss.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cora struggled to keep her eyes open. She had to keep breathing. Reach her EpiPen. But her throat had closed...

  Suddenly her door flew open. “Cora?”

  Faye?

  Had she forgotten to lock the door when she’d come inside? Hadn’t she set the alarm...

  No...she’d been distracted by the gift basket.

  Footsteps clattered. Voices echoed as if far away in a tunnel.

  Fear seized Cora. She didn’t want to die. Then she might never find her little girl.

  “Ms. Reeves?”

  A small voice this time. A little girl’s. Nina’s?

  More footsteps, then a hand gently touched her. “Ms. Reeves?”

  “Cora, what’s wrong?” Faye’s voice this time.

  Cora blinked back tears, struggling to see through the fuzziness clouding her brain. She wheezed out a breath, cried out, stretched her fingers toward the end table where she’d left her purse. “Pen...” she choked out.

  “Pen?” Faye stroked Cora’s hair away from her face and turned her head to examine her. “Cora, I’ll call 911.”

  She shook her head, or at least she thought she did, then clasped her throat with one hand and pointed to her purse with the other. “Help.”

  Another sound. Footsteps. Smaller this time. “Mama!”

  “Get me my phone!” Faye shouted.

  “But Mama, look,” Nina cried.

  Through the fog, Cora saw Nina running toward them, the EpiPen in her small hand. “Look.”

  Faye’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the EpiPen from Nina, then brushed Cora’s cheek. “You need this?”