Kidnapped at Christmas

by Barb Han

  Stephanie tried to roll over to her side. “I might be sick.”

  “She’s not well,” Meg shouted to Wyatt. She couldn’t leave her friend’s side, not while she was in this bad a shape and trying to get up.

  The sirens were getting closer and she realized an ambulance was almost there.

  Wyatt bolted into the room. “If there’s someone out there, I didn’t see him.”

  “What was the noise?” Meg asked.

  “A rock was tossed through the kitchen window. I’m guessing the sirens scared him away,” he supplied, dropping down at Stephanie’s side. “Stay right here. You’re going to be fine.”

  With Wyatt there to care for Stephanie, Meg discarded the bloody towel and used baby wipes to clean her hands. She picked up the baby, who was trying to suck on her fingers, and located a pacifier. Aubrey calmed down almost instantly.

  “He confused the two of us,” Meg said to him as she rocked the baby across her shoulder. Between the sirens, the stress and her child’s crying, Meg was one step away from losing it. She took a few calming breaths.

  “From the back, I can see where he might,” Wyatt said. Frustration and stress creased his forehead.

  No one was safe near Meg anymore.

  “We have to split up, Wyatt.”

  Chapter Nine

  Wyatt stared at Meg, who looked to be standing guard at the door to Stephanie’s room in the ER. Wyatt had played enough football in his youth to know that a blow to the head needed to be taken seriously. Stephanie was resting peacefully for now. A deputy had taken her statement during the brief time she was awake. The doctor had been optimistic for a full recovery as long as Stephanie took it easy for a few weeks.

  He contemplated Meg’s earlier comment about splitting up. There was no way he could let her or his daughter out of his sight without going insane. But the time for the conversation was not now. Stephanie’s well-being was top priority.

  Meg paced another lap around the room.

  “They’re keeping her overnight for observation, but where will she go when she’s released? I don’t want her going home alone and she moved in with me six months ago when she left her boyfriend.” Meg’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, but he picked up on the seriousness. Of course, she would want to take care of her friend. Stephanie was in trouble because of her association with Meg. Given her past, Meg would take that to heart.

  Besides, she made a good point. Stephanie had been a good friend to Meg during her pregnancy and these early weeks with the baby. He wanted to do something to help her out.

  It was easy to see that Meg bore the burden of guilt, blaming herself for everything that was going on. He didn’t want her to feel that way. He wanted to somehow ease her stress, telling himself that it wasn’t because he cared about Meg but that it wasn’t good for the baby.

  “What about your contacts? Part of your job is to place people in care while they sort out their lives,” he said.

  Meg’s eyes lit up. “Of course. I know the perfect person to call.” She glanced down at the sleeping baby in her arms and then back to him. “Could you hold her for a minute?”

  Wyatt took the baby in his arms, worrying he would crush the little thing. “She can’t weigh more than ten pounds.”

  “She’s twelve-point-five pounds according to her doctor last week,” Meg clarified.

  “That seems small,” he said, although he had no idea how much a baby was supposed to weigh.

  “She’s right on target and pretty average for her age actually.” Meg sounded a little put off. Hell, he wasn’t trying to offend her. Aubrey was the tiniest thing he’d ever held. Under different circumstances, he might find Meg’s defensiveness sweet and a little bit funny. Sexy, too. Right now, all he could focus on was keeping her and the baby safe while making arrangements for Stephanie.

  “If you think she’s so light, try carrying her around for two hours straight. Your arms burn and they feel like they’re going to break off,” Meg added.

  “You’re good with her,” he said by way of apology.

  “I’ve had eight weeks of practice,” Meg conceded as she dug around in her purse for her cell. She located it and started toward the hallway.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay where I can keep you in full view,” he said, not wanting to cause undue stress but at the same time realizing it was difficult to manage holding a baby and still be ready should someone sneak past security and come at Meg. However unlikely the scenario might be, Wyatt wasn’t taking any chances.

  Meg nodded with a somber expression and he knew she understood fully the reason he’d asked. Even with hospital security on alert, someone could sneak in. It was a big place. If not the attacker, then media could slip past the front desk and the guard at the nurse’s station. Bringing attention to anyone connected to Meg or the baby right now wasn’t advisable.

  He glanced down at the little bundle in his arms. She was secured in a tight blanket, sleeping peacefully. Another burst of pride filled his chest. How could something so tiny break down his carefully constructed walls so easily? He still had no idea what the future held, but he knew this little girl would play a large part in it.

  Meg smiled for the first time today, and there was something satisfying about being the one to put it there. “We’ve done a lot of work with a women’s shelter. Ava Becks is the director. She’s good at keeping people out of sight and under the radar while keeping some sense of a normal life for them. She’s set up this entire compound where women can do things like shop for food, clothing and get a haircut without ever leaving the safety of the complex. Maybe Stephanie can hide out there until everything blows over. She’d be able to work remotely in order to keep her cases going and keep a schedule. She can go for a jog without being afraid someone will attack her.”

  The place sounded like the promised land for battered women. While Wyatt hated there was a need for such a facility, he appreciated what was being done. His fists nearly balled thinking about the reason innocent women and children would need such a place. When this was all over, he’d look into setting up an annual donation. His general manager, Marcus Field, had mentioned the employees would like to join together for a volunteer day around the holidays. He’d put Ava’s shelter on the list. With twenty-five profitable locations of his restaurant across southwest Texas, he could do a lot of good for the charity and he’d do it in Aubrey’s name. Which also gave him another idea. This one he didn’t like as much...

  “You and the baby could join her,” Wyatt offered, taking a hit to the chest at the suggestion even though it was his suggestion. “I’d like to come, too. I know you mentioned splitting up earlier but I’d rather not. Now that I know about her I’d be crazy with worry if I couldn’t see that she was safe.”

  Meg was already shaking her head. “Now that I think about I’ve changed my mind. It’s too risky. I don’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to Ava’s operation. I could jeopardize her entire staff, not to mention her tenants, who rely on the place being off the radar. Ava’s amazing at what she does for people, believe me, and I want my situation to be as far away from her and her people as possible.” Meg looked at Stephanie. “And her. She’s been lucky twice. If anything happened to...”

  Emotion seemed to get the best of her. She turned her back and sniffed.

  “Nothing will. She’ll be tucked away on one of my properties, out of sight and kept safe.” He wanted to tell her how strong she was for making that decision. She was right, too. In a weak moment, he’d considered making a call to the Butlers to see what they could offer. But how would that help? There was a swarm of media on their doorstep and Mike Butler’s killer still hadn’t been found. For all Wyatt knew he was right under their noses and no one in the family had figured it out. Not exactly his idea of a safe place for Stephanie, Aubrey or Meg.

  “As soon as Step
hanie wakes, we’ll fill her in on the plan,” Meg said, her smile still in place. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was a start.

  He glanced down at his daughter. The thought of Aubrey being his only living family hit harder than he expected. Maybe knowing he was a father now was softening him. He wished his mother was alive to meet his little girl. The expansion of his restaurant chain had consumed him and, if he was being honest, gave him a good reason to set aside his grief.

  He’d seen to it that his mother had had a proper funeral that year and then he’d buried all his emotions with her. He’d become a workhorse, a machine that never needed sleep.

  For the first time in his life, he felt tired.

  * * *

  “I CAN MAKE COFFEE,” Meg offered after feeding the baby again.

  Checking into an all-suite hotel should keep them under the radar for the time being. The one-bedroom was well-appointed and had all the basics, including a nice-sized bathroom and generous living/kitchen area with a full-size fridge and microwave.

  “Don’t get up,” he said, noticing the dark circles cradling her eyes. He needed to keep his distance because he kept thinking about the kiss they’d shared. It hadn’t felt like a mistake at the time. Now, he realized it had felt a little too right.

  “I need to set her down for a little while before my arms fall off,” Meg said. They’d requested a crib and within ten minutes of their arrival one of the maintenance men had arrived to set it up next to the bed, for more convenient nighttime feedings.

  Seeing how caring for an infant was a round-the-clock necessity made him tired thinking about it. He could be honest with himself. He had no idea how Meg was doing it. She took care of a baby who fed every two hours. The feedings lasted for almost a half hour and then she was right back at it an hour-and-a-half later. On top of that, she was co-running a successful organization.

  He’d only found out he was a father a few hours ago and he was already tired from worry—worry that had been foreign to him until he found out that Aubrey was his child. Then worry had heaped on top of him, covering his arms like cement.

  Wyatt’s relationship with the little girl’s mother was a work in progress, a challenging one at that given his back-and-forth feelings, but they had time to figure things out, right?

  Not if a maniac gets his way, Wyatt thought.

  Meg crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. He caught her studying him.

  “Ready to go to the sheriff’s office?” he asked. He’d told Sawmill that they’d stop by to give statements.

  “I can’t believe my house is a crime scene,” Meg admitted with a yawn. “I don’t want to disturb the baby yet.”

  Looking at her while she stood there, Wyatt could see that his feelings weren’t the only issue. Her body language said she was closed off. Given her history, he doubted if she’d ever truly let another person in other than their daughter. Meg was on guard at all times and it finally dawned on him that was the emotion he’d picked up on last year. He’d never met a woman with walls constructed higher than his own and chalked both up to crazy childhoods.

  “Tell me the truth. How long has it been since you’ve slept?” he asked.

  “Me? I’m fine,” she responded, biting back another yawn.

  “Close your eyes and try to get some rest.” He had no intention of letting Meg or his daughter out of his sight and he could stay awake as long as he needed to.

  “Every time I close my eyes I think about her, about my friend. The recent attempt on Aubrey and the sheriff finding the ribbon seemed to be bringing up painful memories from the past.” Meg looked at him with an expression that stirred something deep in his chest.

  “Will it help to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Can’t hurt,” she said. “I can’t help but wonder what kind of monster would take a child. For eighteen years I haven’t forgotten he existed. I’d hoped he was dead. I’d see Mary Jane’s family in the store not long after it happened. She has a brother two years older than me. I never knew what to say to him. He tried to talk to me a few weeks after Aubrey was born. He seemed upset. He kept looking at Aubrey and then me.” She paused. “After all these years I still couldn’t face him. I ran out of the store so fast there was no way he could catch up to me. My cart was there by the checkout. I’d spent half an hour in the store before abandoning everything but my daughter.”

  “What happened when you were young wasn’t your fault.” He’d read the article she’d pulled up from over the summer. Every tidbit of news had been drudged up from the past it seemed ever since Maverick Mike was killed, including Mary Jane’s kidnapping and death. “And neither is any of this. You didn’t do this to her family. This happened to you, too. Both of you were little kids at the time.”

  “That may be true, but I sure didn’t offer much help to find her. I must’ve seen his face. I was right there.” She stared at him. “Why can’t I remember? How hard would that be? Maybe law enforcement could’ve gotten to her in time, rescued her before he killed her and she disappeared forever.”

  “You were a child. Didn’t you say that you were ten-years-old? Again, I don’t think you should blame yourself because law enforcement—who were grown men and women, by the way—didn’t do the job they were supposed to,” he countered. And then a thought struck. What if someone had figured out that Aubrey was his child? What if that person was trying to kidnap her with the intention of getting ransom money? “Do you think there’s any possibility the attempt on Aubrey could be related to the fact that she’s a Butler? If that’s true these cases wouldn’t be linked.”

  “They have to be. Where else would her hair ribbon come from? What are the chances it would be at the attempted kidnapping scene of my daughter?” She had a point. He was trying to offer other explanations.

  “It’s possible the ribbon was stolen from an evidence room,” he said, trying to throw out other options. “Someone could be trying to rattle you or throw you and the sheriff off. Hell, they could be trying to shake up local law enforcement.”

  “Let’s just say that’s possible. Who would benefit from doing that?” she asked.

  “You work as a family advocate in abuse cases. We need to look harder at the fathers and dig deeper into your cases. It’s still possible this could be motivated by revenge and has nothing to do with what happened when you were a child. Someone could be trying to manipulate your feelings. Throw you off balance.”

  Her eyes widened. “I guess I didn’t even think about that.”

  It looked like her mind was clicking through possibilities.

  “Based on what I’ve heard so far of your work, the list of people not thrilled with your operation is long.”

  “Are you blaming me for this? Saying I somehow deserve it?” Her lips thinned.

  “Hold on. I didn’t say anything like that,” he defended. “We need to examine all angles, and sometimes the obvious one is the right one.”

  She looked exacerbated and he couldn’t figure out...

  Hold on.

  Did she think he was trying to dig up dirt so he could fight her for custody? The way she’d bucked up for a fight had him going down that path.

  “I’ve worked on a few cases in the past year. There are always threats in the early stages, and blame and anger. It’s usually directed at me in the beginning.” She sighed sharply.

  “Let’s look at the most recent and we can work our way back from there,” he said, and he was relieved when his suggestion seemed to calm her rattled nerves a little bit more. If he could do that more often, it would be good for their little girl. Those last three words still sounded foreign.

  Wyatt needed to get used to the idea he had a daughter. Granted, Meg had had nearly a year to prepare herself for this day, and all this had been thrust on him in the past twenty-four hours, less if he counted since he’d received confirmation.

>   He’d risen to meet bigger challenges.

  Patience and logic were all he needed to overcome any obstacle.

  And that’s what he needed to do now. Take a step back. Evaluate the situation. Come up with a plan of attack.

  He glanced at the screen of his phone. “If my calculations are correct, the little bug in the next room is going to need to eat again in approximately forty-five minutes.”

  “That seems to be all she does right now,” Meg said. She added quickly, “The doctor said it’s perfectly normal. She’s perfectly healthy.”

  Meg wrung her hands together.

  “We don’t have a lot of time before she needs attention and I’d rather not discuss the case when she’s awake,” he said.

  “Or in the room at all,” Meg added.

  “Agreed.” They’d just made their first decree as parents. It wasn’t as difficult as Wyatt thought it might be. Meg was an intelligent and reasonable woman. Her mind was the first thing he’d been attracted to. Okay, fine, it was her eyes. But he’d noticed her intelligence the minute she spoke. They’d talked music—she loved a good old bluegrass melody—and current events.

  And she knew how to cook. Not that he was a sexist jerk or bought any of that nonsense about women belonging in the kitchen. But there wasn’t anything much sexier than a beautiful woman who was confident in the kitchen and actually enjoyed the process of creating a meal.

  He glanced at the counter, remembering the pasta machine she’d brought to his place on their second date. She’d rolled out dough from scratch. She’d flattened it and fed it into the machine, catching the long strands of fettuccini noodles as they came out the other end. The look on her face, the enjoyment at creating something that she knew would taste better than anything he’d ever seen on a plate. And he was no slouch. But his culinary skills were limited to meats on the grill—which were his specialty—and ended with the perfect taco, around which he’d built his entire fortune.