by Cindi Myers
“Wow—you really are wound up about that car, aren’t you?”
He risked another glance at her. She was regarding him calmly, some of the fatigue gone from her eyes. “You think I’m making too big a deal of it, don’t you?” he asked.
“I think you’re a good son who misses his father and wants to take care of his mother,” she said. “And like most men, you think your job is to fix things. Your mom doesn’t need that.”
“Then what does she need?”
“You could ask her. But you might try not offering an opinion or advice at all. Just listen. When she talks about your father, maybe share some of your own good memories of him. It might help you, too. Tell her whatever color she paints the living room is fine by you. And tell her you’re proud of her for handling the car purchase by herself. It’s a big deal, and she’s proud of herself for doing it, so you should be, too.”
The phone rang again. This time, he answered, Michelle’s advice—which he wasn’t sure he agreed with—spinning in his head. “Oh, Ethan, I’m so glad I was able to reach you.” His mother sounded breathless—a little teary, even.
Ethan pulled the cruiser to the side of the road. “What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked. “What’s happened?”
“My car! Someone stole my new car!” Her voice rose to a wail on the last words.
Chapter Twelve
“Calm down, Mom. Take a deep breath and tell me exactly what happened.” Ethan tried to sound calm, to handle his mother the way he would a distraught witness.
“I went to have my nails done—you know I have that done every other week,” she said. “All the spaces in front of the salon were full, so I had to park at the end of the lot by the street. When I came out, the car was gone.”
“Are you sure?” Ethan asked. “It’s a new car, so you’re not used to it. Maybe you parked in a different spot than you remembered.”
“Ethan Reynolds, I know where I parked my own car.”
He winced at her tone of voice—the same one she had used when she learned he had been caught cheating on a history test in eighth grade, and when he had gotten his first speeding ticket at age seventeen. “Did you call the police?” he asked.
“Yes. And they took a report over the phone, but the officer didn’t sound like he took me seriously. So now I’m calling you. You’re FBI—you ought to be able to find my car.”
“I’ll do what I can, Mom. I promise.” He wrote down the description of the car and the name of the officer who had the theft report, and promised to call her when he knew more, then hung up and pulled back onto the road.
“Your poor mother,” Michelle said after a moment. “She must be beside herself.”
“She was pretty upset.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “The local cops won’t appreciate a fed homing in on their case.”
“They’ll understand when you explain the car belonged to your mother,” Michelle said. “Besides, can’t you tell them it’s Ranger business? You handle car thefts, don’t you?”
The image of a collection of license plates spread out on the conference room table flashed into his head. “We do,” he said. “Do you remember the night Simon and I came to Metwater’s camp—the night he beat you?”
“I’m not going to forget that night—ever.”
“We were there to question him about a car theft ring we think was operating near the camp. We thought maybe one or more of his followers might be involved. Did you ever hear anything about that—Family members getting money from stolen cars or car parts or anything like that?”
“Nothing like that, exactly. We have a guy, Roscoe, who was sort of our family mechanic. He worked on my car a few times and he kept a lot of other folks’ rides running. But he also made money selling junked cars he finds out there. I guess people haul wrecks out there and dump them sometimes.”
“Or maybe they aren’t all wrecks,” Ethan said. “Maybe some of them used to be new cars.”
“I don’t think so,” Michelle said. “I mean, he didn’t only sell junk cars. He sold old appliances and stock tanks and anything else he found abandoned. The stuff I saw him with was always old and beat up and rusty.”
“Still, I think I’ll have a talk with him,” Ethan said.
“I hope you find your mom’s car,” she said.
“If an organized gang like this one stole it, it’s already been cut into pieces or is on its way out of state,” Ethan said. “Probably the best I can do is help her file the insurance claim and pick out a new one.”
“Ask her if she wants help with the papers,” Michelle said. “Let her pick out her own car.”
“Right.” He grimaced. He still had a lot to learn about handling women, including his mother.
* * *
ETHAN DROPPED MICHELLE off at the duplex, then headed to Ranger Headquarters. She prowled the rooms, unable to rest despite her exhaustion. She distracted herself by examining Ethan’s belongings, trying to imagine the life he lived here. He wasn’t overly neat, or a slob, the kind of man who valued utility over appearance. The kitchen contained the basics, but nothing extra—no mixer or juicer or anything extraneous. His bookshelf contained law enforcement texts, nature guides and some historical novels. The only picture on his wall was a painting of an elk bugling, against a backdrop of snowcapped peaks.
His furniture was identical to the items in the other half of the unit, which meant it had probably been here when he moved in. The one exception was a sturdy but worn leather recliner, positioned for watching the flat-screen television. She settled into this chair, and it was almost as if Ethan had wrapped his arms around her. The leather carried his scent. She imagined him sitting here, feet up, remote in hand, as he flipped through channels, looking for a game. He had probably spent many such evenings for the chair to conform to the shape of his body this way.
She hadn’t bothered asking him if he had a girlfriend or if he dated. He struck her as something of a loner—lonely, even. Though she had spent much of her life on her own, she rarely thought of herself as lonely. Though now she was so grateful not to have to endure the pain of waiting and wondering about her son without Ethan to steady her.
She was almost asleep when her cell phone buzzed. She shifted to dig it out of her pocket and frowned at a number she didn’t recognize, then sat bolt upright, heart racing. What if it was the kidnappers? She didn’t have the script Ethan had promised. She had no way of tracing the call.
The ringtone continued, insistent. With shaking hands, she swiped to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hello, Starfall? It’s me, Asteria.”
“Asteria?” It took half a second for the name to register; then a second surge of adrenaline jolted her. “Where are you? Everyone’s so worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Asteria said. “I’m fine. The Prophet sent me to a spa to rest. I didn’t really want to go, but he convinced me it would be the best thing for the baby.”
“Where did he send you?” Michelle asked.
“I’m in Denver. And I’m fine, really. Have you had any word about Hunter?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Oh, no. I was hoping they would have found him by now.”
“They haven’t.” The pain of this truth stabbed her all over again. “Asteria—Andi—do you know anything at all about what happened to him? I know you wouldn’t have had any part in taking him, but maybe Metwater said something or did something—”
“He didn’t. I even asked him directly if he knew anything about Hunter’s disappearance.”
“What did he say?” Not that she expected he would tell the truth, but his answer might be revealing.
“That’s one reason I called,” Asteria said. “I wanted you to know that the Prophet had a vision. He said in the vision he saw Hunter safe and happy. He’s fine and you don’t need to worry.�
��
Michelle gripped the phone so tightly her fingers ached. “The only way he could know that was if he had something to do with Hunter’s kidnapping,” she said.
“No!” Asteria protested. “The Prophet has a true gift. His visions are real.”
“His visions are a way of manipulating his followers,” Michelle said. “Andi, wake up!” She deliberately used the woman’s real name, to remind her of who she really was. “Don’t let him manipulate you, too.”
“I called because I thought you’d be happy to hear some good news,” Andi said. “Instead, you tell me I’m stupid.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Michelle said. “But you’re being naive if you think everything Daniel Metwater tells you is true.”
“He’s the only one who has ever accepted the real me.” She sounded teary now. “You’re the kind of person who always sees the worst in people, instead of all the good they do.”
Michelle couldn’t deny the charge. For much of her life, that had been true. But lately, she’d felt something shifting inside her. “I see the good in you,” she said. “And I care about you—and about your baby. Just promise me that if you have any doubts—or you’re ever in trouble and need help—you’ll go to the Ranger Brigade. They care, too, and they’ll help you.”
“I can’t believe you, of all people, are recommending I rely on the police for anything,” Andi said.
“I can’t believe it, either,” Michelle said. “But it’s true. They’ve done everything they can to help me, and I know they would help you, too.”
“I don’t need their help. I don’t need anyone’s help. And I’d better go now. I’m sorry I called.”
“I’m not sorry,” Michelle said. “It was good to hear from you, and I’m glad to know you’re all right. But please, think about something. If Daniel Metwater did have something to do with Hunter’s disappearance—if he would take a child from his mother—what would he do with your baby?”
“I can’t believe you’d say something so awful,” Andi said, and ended the call.
No, Michelle thought. You just don’t want to believe your Prophet would do something so awful.
* * *
ETHAN PORED OVER the computer printouts about the Metwater brothers until his head ached and his vision blurred, but he could find nothing to link Daniel to his brother’s crimes or to anything else he might have needed to keep Michelle from revealing.
At last, he put the files aside and drove home. The light was on in the front room, and when he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he was surprised to find Michelle asleep in the recliner, an afghan his mother had knitted draped over her. At least someone was getting some rest. He was tempted to leave her there, but as he passed the chair, she stirred.
“What time is it?” she asked, blinking and wincing at the light.
“It’s after midnight. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“It’s okay.” She pushed aside the afghan and stretched. “Your chair is really comfortable,” she said.
“It was my dad’s.” That and a hunting rifle were the only two things he had wanted of his father’s. As far back as he could remember, the leather recliner had been his dad’s throne, the place where he read the paper, watched the ball game and meted out both punishment and advice to his only child.
“It’s yours now,” she said, rubbing one hand up and down the arm of the chair. “It smells like you.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, and decided instead to answer the question she hadn’t yet asked. “I didn’t find anything in the files,” he said.
“I didn’t really think you would, but thanks for trying.” She yawned and sat up straighter. “Before I forget, Asteria called. She said she’s safe and staying at some spa in Denver.”
“Metwater told us she was at the Brown Palace, but it’s nice to have that confirmed. Is that why she called—to let you know where she was?”
Michelle shook her head. “She said something else that she thought I’d be happy to hear, but it only made me angrier.”
He sat on the sofa adjacent to the recliner, only inches away from her. “What was that?”
“She asked Metwater if he knew anything about Hunter’s disappearance. He told her he had had a vision. In the vision he saw Hunter, safe and happy. I tried to tell her that if Metwater knew that Hunter was safe, it meant he had something to do with him being taken from me—either that, or he’s lying to make her stop worrying.”
“But she doesn’t see it that way,” Ethan said.
“No. She thinks he’s really a prophet and his visions are real. I told her she shouldn’t trust him, but of course she didn’t listen. She said I always thought the worst of people.” She clasped her hands, her fingers laced. “The thing is, she’s right. I have always looked for the worst in everyone.”
“From what you’ve told me, you’ve had good reason not to trust people,” Ethan said.
“Maybe. But I’m trying to change.” Her eyes met his, weary but focused. “I told her if she ever needed help, she should contact the Rangers. I told her she could trust you—that I trusted you.”
He leaned over and took her hand and held it. “I’m glad I’ve earned your trust,” he said. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep it.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, then closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “What happens now?” she asked.
“Now? We’re both exhausted. I think we should go to bed.”
“All right.”
He stood and pulled her up beside him. Then, leaning on each other, they walked to his bedroom and helped each other undress. They climbed under the covers and she snuggled close. He thought she might have been asleep before he turned off the light. That, he realized, was proof of how comfortable she had become with him.
It took longer for him to go to sleep, his mind too full of everything that had happened—with Michelle and Hunter and his mother and Metwater. Tomorrow he would need to follow up on the theft of his mother’s car, and maybe find time to go by Metwater’s camp to question Roscoe. He might have another go at Metwater, also—ask him about the vision he had described to Asteria. It seemed he had scarcely drifted off before his phone rang. He groped for it on the bedside table and answered groggily.
“Ethan, it’s Carmen. Did I wake you?”
“What time is it?” He squinted at the bedside clock.
“It’s almost eight.”
He swore under his breath and swung his feet to the floor. “I’ll be in as soon as I can,” he said. “I had a late night last night.”
“I’m not calling to rag on you for being late,” Carmen said. “I wanted to let you know we just had someone call in with a report of two young men and a baby staying at an old motel in Cimarron. The caller thought that was odd. It may be nothing, but we should check it out.”
“I’m on it.” He pulled a pad of paper and a pen from the bedside table. “Give me the address.”
Carmen read off the address. “Simon is already on his way.”
“I thought he went to Denver.”
“He had car trouble last night and got such a late start he decided to wait until this morning. He wasn’t likely to get anything out of the folks at the Brown Palace in the middle of the night.”
“Tell him I’ll meet him in Cimarron,” Ethan said.
“You and half the force,” Carmen said. “None of us want to be left out of this one.”
He ended the call and turned to find Michelle sitting up in bed, staring at him. “What is it?” she asked.
“We got a report of two guys with a baby—it could be Hunter.”
She threw back the covers and headed toward her clothes. “Wait,” he said. “It also might be nothing. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Hope is all I’ve got,” she said. “I’m coming with you.
”
“You can’t.”
“Why not? I’m his mother.”
“I promise you, if it is Hunter, as soon as it’s safe to do so, you can see him,” Ethan said. “But I can’t let you walk into a potential hostage situation. Having you there might even make the kidnappers less likely to cooperate.”
She continued dressing. “I’m going with you.”
He walked around the bed and took her shoulders. “Michelle, look at me.”
She glared at him. “He’s my baby. He needs me. I need him.”
“Yes, but I need you to stay safe while we make sure he’s safe, too. Do you remember you said you trusted me?”
“Yes. Because I thought you were on my side.”
“I am on your side. And I need to keep both you and Hunter safe.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I promise, I will bring you to him, as soon as it’s safe to do so. But I can’t do my best for him if I’m worried about you, too.”
“Then don’t worry about me,” she said. “The only person you need to worry about is Hunter.”
He cupped her cheek in his palm. “I can’t avoid worrying about you. That’s how important you’ve become to me.”
The hardness went out of her eyes. She wet her lips. “All right. I’ll stay here. But save my boy. Bring him back to me.”
“If this baby is Hunter, I’ll get him back to you.” He had taken an oath that he would give his life, if necessary, to protect and serve, but he had never meant the words more than he did now.
Chapter Thirteen
In the cruiser, Ethan called Carmen again. “Give me an update.”
“Colorado State Patrol is already headed that way to sit on the place and make sure these guys don’t leave until we’ve checked them out. The rest of us are mobilizing. Where is Michelle?”
“I left her at my place. She wasn’t happy about it, but I tried to make her understand it wouldn’t be safe for her or Hunter to have her there.”
“Ouch. That’s tough.”
