by Adrianne Lee
“Well, this will probably sound strange, but…” She told him about the recurring dream, about her sense that the hunter hated not her but Beau. “It strikes me that there is so much hate around us. Including the hateful act of taking a child from her mother and father.”
He considered this. “Well, love and hate are opposite sides of the same coin. And she’s definitely not using the normal modus operandi of an erotomaniac. The earlier mash notes hinted that she thought she and I were having an affair, though I have no idea who she is. But now that I think about it, if she were a true erotomaniac she’d have killed you and Callie at the accident site. Made sure you were both dead before leaving. She wouldn’t have taken our child.”
Deedra nodded. “An erotomaniac wouldn’t be playing this cat-and-mouse game she’s playing with us now, either.”
He sipped from his cup. “If we’re going to find out the truth about our daughter, we have to figure out why this unsub snatched Callie.” His dark eyebrows twitched, and he ran his hand through his hair. He looked dead on his feet. Exhausted and emotionally on the edge. “Figure out why she’s trying to kill you.”
Deedra felt certain she knew why. Maybe not the specifics, but the general motivation. She could have just told him, but she needed him to see it for himself, to believe as she now believed. “Ask yourself what she’s getting out of this? What she’s done to your life? What has she gained by taking Callie? What will she gain by killing me?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment, then he blew out a loud breath. “Losing Callie is like having part of my heart torn from my chest. Your running off, not knowing where you were, stole my will to live, to go on.”
Guilt swept through Deedra, and she touched his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
He kissed her hand. “Your death would wipe me out, Dee.”
Her heart ached at this admission, but she forced herself to continue, “She brought you to your knees. But you didn’t stay there. So, now that I’m back, she’s pulling out all the stops, tormenting you as only she can…by using Callie, by destroying me emotionally before killing me.”
Light dawned in his eyes. “Revenge.”
“Exactly.”
The light fled as quickly as it had come. “Yeah, revenge, but damn it to hell, for what? What did I do to her that would make her want to annihilate my life?” He went back to the table and she hurried after him. The note lay where they’d left it.
Deedra couldn’t look at it without getting shivers. She forced herself to look at it, anyway. “Maybe there’s some clue in this vile message. Something that will give us a place to start looking. Something besides scientific evidence.”
“Tell me where.” Desperation ruled his face. He jerked his hand through his hair, his gaze seeming so wild she doubted he could see the actual words on the page.
But her gaze snagged on a line near the bottom of the note, and her heart leaped. Could it be? Was she crazy to even consider it? No. No. At this point, they had to look into every possibility. “Beau, remember when I told you I’d run into a pregnant teenager and a couple adopting their first child?”
“Ah, babe, don’t go there.” His brows dipped together. The fear that she would desert him shone from his eyes. She understood he didn’t fear her leaving physically, but emotionally, mentally.
She gripped his hand, reassuringly. “Beau, I’m not going off the deep end. It’s that I didn’t get the chance to tell you where I ran into them. There’s a new lawyer in town. She specializes in adoptions. She even gave me her card.”
“What makes you think she’d have anything to do with Callie?”
“That line.” She pointed to the letter, to the words that had made her heart leap: “Does she have a new mommy and daddy?”
“I know it’s a long shot, but we can’t afford not to check out every possibility. Can we?”
He groaned, but there seemed a little less pain in his eyes. As though he’d caught a glint of that light he sought. “How often have you heard me say that my least favorite part of police work is checking out leads?”
“About as often as you’ve said it’s also the most essential part.”
“Yeah.” He gave a wry smile. “Because no matter how small or flaky sounding, you never know which lead will be the lead. So, tell me how you came to visit this lawyer’s office.”
She recounted her reason for going into the attorney’s and her encounters therein.
He drank his coffee, listening, but she could tell he was unconvinced about something in her story. He scratched his jaw and moved his mug across the table. “You know, darling, it’s not against the law to arrange private adoptions.”
“I know that.” Deedra finished her own coffee. “I guess you need to see her offices and her to understand why I doubt T. R. Rudway’s legitimacy.”
He gathered the zip bags. “Let’s get these to the lab, I want a copy of this letter.”
Deedra placed their coffee cups in the sink. “And the lawyer?”
“We’ll pay her a visit on the way back.”
ON THE DRIVE BACK Deedra held the copy of the killer’s letter spread on her lap. She couldn’t stop looking at the line: “Does she have a new mommy and daddy?” Her stomach, empty of all but coffee, ached. “How are you planning to approach the lawyer? We don’t have an appointment. She might have clients there.”
“I hope she does.” A nerve jumped in his jaw. “I like catching suspects off guard. Gives me a better read on them.”
“Are you just going to ask her outright, then, whether or not she handled the adoption of our daughter?”
He shook his head. “That isn’t likely to get us the results we’re after. She could tell us to go to hell. Like I said, we don’t know that she’s doing anything wrong.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“You said she offered us her services?”
Deedra frowned and said a cautious, “Yes, but I wasn’t sure which services she meant.”
He glanced toward her. They were just crossing the bridge into town. “She knew you overheard the couple who was there talking about their adoption, and she told you that she frequents Granny Jo’s diner—which means she knows all there is to know about us. I’d say it’s a safe assumption that she was offering you her adoption services.”
Butterflies collided in Deedra’s stomach. She hadn’t ever wanted to consider adoption. Until she’d heard the expectant bliss in the voices of that couple yesterday. But she wouldn’t consider it now, not knowing how Sean felt about Shanahan heirs. “Okay. So, we’re going to see her as potential clients.”
“She already knows our story. She’ll think we’re on the up-and-up. It’s the simplest way to find out how she handles adoptions without putting her on the defensive.”
Deedra worried the edge of the copied letter until she’d dog-eared one corner. Could she pull this off convincingly? Granted, she’d participated in hundreds of cons, could probably get a job in Hollywood given her acting skills, but this wasn’t play-acting. This was her life. “I’m not sure she’ll consider me fit mother material if she’s heard about the Dupont’s Department Store incident, and I’m sure the crowd at Granny Jo’s dished out every stinking detail of it.”
“Plus a few made-up ones.” Beau patted her hand. “Don’t you bring it up. If it’s an issue, let her mention it.”
“Okay.” She folded the note and shoved it into her purse, grappling with her nerves, schooling herself to calm down. But with Callie hopefully at the end of this treasure hunt, Deedra didn’t know how to stay calm, cool or collected.
Beau parked in front of T. R. Rudway’s law firm, but made no attempt to exit the car. He stared at the building. “Did I ever tell you Rowdy Fortenski hung his shingle here the same year I learned to ride my first pony?”
“No.”
“He was my father’s lawyer until my parents passed away, and Sean and I inherited him.”
“I knew he handled the ranch’s legal business
until he became too ill to work. How is he?”
“The cancer finally finished him while you were…away. I didn’t realize Barb had sold his practice already.”
“Well, you’ll see soon enough that T.R. didn’t purchase it for the local clientele.”
He pulled the key from the ignition. “Let’s go.”
She caught his forearm, a sudden thought dashing the hope she’d nurtured since she’d read the killer’s letter a couple of hours ago. “Maybe I’m wrong about T.R. If she handled some bogus adoption of Callie for the killer, then it couldn’t have been done here. She’s only had this office for two months.”
He thought a few seconds, then said, “Or just maybe the woman who took Callie kept her the first four months, then saw an opportunity to pawn her off on someone who wouldn’t realize she was our missing daughter. And maybe Ms. Rudway coming to town presented Callie’s abductor with both opportunity and means.”
“But most everyone in Montana would recognize Callie after the campaign we mounted to find her.”
“Hell, they could have cut her hair short, dressed her like a boy. No one would think she was Callie then. But the older Callie gets, the greater the risk someone in Montana will realize she’s not whoever her abductor claims she is.”
“Wouldn’t possible recognition make adopting her that much harder?”
He considered this, absently touching the nick on his chin. “Didn’t you say the couple you ran into yesterday were from the Deep South and that you wondered whether or not the majority of Ms. Rudway’s clients might be from out of state?”
“I guess that would make it less likely that her clients would have seen anything local about Callie being missing. Even with national press coverage, the sad fact is that few abducted children are ever recovered.”
Beau leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Can you do this?”
She’d mastered the shell game years ago. The only difference this time was the prize. Callie. That also meant the stakes were higher than for any scam she’d ever run. Her mouth went dry. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go see what Ms. Rudway has done with Rowdy’s old suites.”
Beau whistled under his breath the moment they stepped into the expensive outer office.
Deedra nodded, speaking in low tones. “Pretty opulent for Buffalo Falls, huh?”
He whispered, “I definitely opted for the bottom of the legal food chain.”
She grinned at that. As half owner of the Shanahan spread, he need not have gone to work outside the ranch. But being a full-time cowboy had never fulfilled Beau. He craved the adrenaline rush of brushing up against danger. It was one of the few things they’d always had in common.
No wonder their marriage hadn’t been able to sustain a devastating blow. You couldn’t build a lifelong relationship on thrills alone. There needed to be substance, too. And trust.
“Looks like her receptionist is on a break,” Beau said.
“I’m not sure she has a receptionist.” Deedra stepped toward the desk, seeing it was as devoid of work as it had been yesterday. “Don’t lawyers require law clerks? Secretaries? At least a personal assistant?”
“Depends—”
T. R. Rudway’s door jerked open and the shapely brunette appeared, dressed in a suit of ecru as subtle and as costly as the dove-gray she’d worn the day before. She startled. Obviously she’d expected to be alone, and from the red quickly painting her cheeks it appeared they’d caught her doing something she shouldn’t have been doing. Her glance skimmed over Deedra, whom she seemed not to recognize with her hair returned to its normal hue, and snagged on Beau. He had tugged off his Stetson, leaving his hair mussed in an appealing way. He held the hat in both hands like some bashful cowboy. She could see the ploy disarmed the lawyer.
Even her heart beat faster.
Give him a woman to charm, and Beau Shanahan was in his element.
He claimed Deedra’s insusceptibility to that charm had been what he’d found most attractive about her during their courtship. She liked reminding him that he’d seemed a lot more attracted to her womanly assets than her ability to see through his line of bull.
Beau extended a hand and introduced himself. “Sheriff Beau Shanahan, ma’am. Welcome to Buffalo Falls.”
The lawyer clasped her hands together, ignoring his proffered one.
He withdrew it, gripping the brim of his hat again. “If I hadn’t known where Rowdy Fortenski’s law offices were, I’d have thought I’d stepped through the portals of the Twilight Zone when I walked inside here. You sure have spent a pretty penny fixin’ this place up.”
“Mr. Fortenski’s style didn’t suit mine.” T.R. lifted her chin, her expression tight. “Sheriff, have I broken some local law or are you here selling tickets to the policeman’s ball?”
“No tickets. But you ought to know whether or not you’ve broken any laws.”
“None.” She assured him, her cheeks reddening again.
“You gave my wife your card yesterday.”
“Yes, I did.” She shifted toward Deedra. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Shanahan. You’ve changed your hair. It becomes you.”
Deedra acknowledged the greeting with a nod, not trusting herself to speak. Her stomach clenched with nerves.
The lawyer glanced back at Beau. She brought her arms to her sides, apparently trying to control her nervous hands. She caught hold of the hem of her jacket as if needing to hang on to something. “What may I do for you?”
Beau tilted his head to one side, another of his disarming tactics, but Deedra knew he was taking in the lawyer’s unsteady nerves. He didn’t miss much. Their presence definitely had her rattled. “Yesterday you offered my wife your services, and we’ve come to find out exactly what that involves.”
Her eyes went cautious. “I assume you’re speaking of adoption?”
“Yes, sorry I didn’t make that clear,” Beau said, grinning so widely his teeth showed.
T.R.’s nostrils flared as she blew out a huge breath. She released the hem of her suit jacket, seeming relieved, on steadier ground. Back in control.
What, Deedra wondered, did that mean? T.R. glanced at her watch. “I’m expecting clients on the hour. Perhaps you’d like to make an appointment for another day?”
“That’s twenty minutes from now,” Beau said, not about to be put off. “Can’t you spare us any time now?”
“I’m sorry, no. I have to prepare some papers for them.” She moved behind the receptionist desk, withdrew a leather-bound book from the top drawer and flipped it open. “I have an opening tomorrow around three if that would—”
“No.” Deedra had suffered all the deploying tactics she could stand. She wasn’t waiting another day and going through this hell again. “Perhaps you can tell us, then, whether you handle adoptions of children over two years old?”
T.R. blanched as if Deedra had stroked a raw nerve. “How did you find out?”
Chapter Fifteen
Deedra’s heart nearly dropped to her toes. “Where is she?”
T.R. reared back as Deedra advanced on her. “She, who?”
“Callie!” Deedra screamed and grasped her arm. “Who did you give my baby to?”
“What are you talking about?” T.R. shook free and rubbed her arm. “Are you crazy?”
“Callie is our missing daughter,” Beau said, his soft tone somehow louder in the subdued room than his wife’s scream. “Did you arrange an adoption for her?”
T.R.’s hands went to her mouth. “What? No, God, no. I thought you meant—” She broke off, her face flaming, her eyes blinking.
Deedra could almost hear the cogs wheeling in the attorney’s pretty head, retracting as she tried coming up with a spin that would undo the damaging words she’d sputtered. It didn’t matter to Deedra. T.R.’s shock and honest dismay said it all. She hadn’t had anything to do with Callie’s disappearance. Deedra bumped back against the wall, her bones turning to melted wax.
Beau,
however, advanced on the lawyer, his eyes narrowed like searchlight beams delving into the darkness for clues. The boyish cowboy was gone, the detective stood before them. “What did you think I meant, Ms. Rudway?”
“Nothing, I…I didn’t understand the question.”
“Don’t go there.”
“Get out.” T.R. was breathing hard. She held the appointment book clasped to her heaving chest, her face as white as its leather cover. “I don’t have to answer your questions.”
“Like hell you don’t. Some lunatic kidnapped our daughter six months ago and has let us think she was dead all this time. She’s been trying to kill Deedra and has silenced two other people who could have identified her. So, you see, if you know something and you aren’t willing to tell us, then you can cool your heels in my jail for a couple of days while I have your license looked into and go over your whole practice with a fine-tooth comb.”
“You can’t do that. I’ll slap you with a harassment suit.”
“Oh, I can and I will. And you can haul me into court, but somehow, I don’t think you want to go to court, do you?”
She swallowed hard several times, then sank into the receptionist’s chair. “I don’t know anything about your missing daughter. I swear I don’t. I only handle the adoption of newborns. And then only with the consent of both birth parents. I don’t want any unhappy clients on either side of any adoption. Not again.”
His eyebrows arched. “Not…again?”
“I thought you knew.” She swung wildly toward Deedra. “You said you knew.”
“Spill it.” Beau’s voice was harsh.
She huffed out a long breath. “Let’s just say I had a problem in the past. One time only. I made the mistake of not getting the birth father to sign off on an adoption. When the birth mother brought the boy to me he was almost three. She said his father had run out on her when he found out she was pregnant. That she hadn’t seen him since. I found a wonderful couple for the little boy. The week the adoption was to be finalized the birth father showed up. Turned out he had never been told about the child and he very much wanted his son. He took us all to court. My clients sued me, too. I paid for that mistake and will never repeat it, but it ruined my reputation. I had to start over. Reinvent myself. New name. New town. New policies.”
