The Last McCullen

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The Last McCullen Page 8

by Rita Herron


  She dug deeper and discovered a pack of matches.

  Her heart thumped wildly. The logo on the outside read the Big Mug.

  The same logo was on the matches Ryder had found in the bushes outside her baby’s nursery. “Look at these.”

  “We need to stop by that bar,” Ryder said. “I sent those other matches to the lab for prints. I’ll do the same with these and see if they have the same prints.”

  Hope flared in Tia’s chest. “If the prints match, that means Wanda took Jordie.”

  “Don’t jump the gun,” Ryder said. “Let’s canvass the neighbors and see if anyone noticed Wanda acting strangely or if they saw her with an infant.”

  He gestured to the laundry basket. “Look through those clothes and the laundry and see if any of the baby things are familiar. What was Jordie wearing the night he was abducted?”

  The memory of that baby sleeper haunted her. “A light blue sleeper with an appliqué of a wagon and horse.” She rushed toward the laundry piled on the couch.

  An assortment of receiving blankets, caps, outfits, bootees and...a sleeper. She quickly examined it. No appliqué of a wagon and horse—a teddy bear instead. She frantically searched the rest of the laundry, but the sleeper wasn’t there.

  Relief mingled with worry. She didn’t want to think that Wanda had taken Jordie because she was angry. If the woman was drinking or taking pills again, she might have an accident or hurt him.

  No. She had to remain optimistic. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that Jordie was safe.

  Ryder touched her elbow. “Gwen is alerting airports, train stations and bus stations to watch for Wanda. She’s sent photos of Jordie and Wanda nationwide. If they try to get out of the country, we’ll stop them.”

  “I hope so,” Tia said.

  Ryder took another look through the house while she checked the chest in the nursery.

  Ten minutes later, they walked to the neighbor’s house next door. A tiny gray-haired woman opened the door, leaning on a cane.

  Ryder identified himself, flashed his credentials, then explained the reason for their visit.

  “I’m Myrtle.” The little woman gave Tia a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry about your baby, miss. People coming in your house and stealing your children—I don’t know what the world is coming to. It’s just plain awful.”

  Ryder cleared his throat. “When did you last see your neighbor Wanda?”

  “About three days ago,” Myrtle said.

  “You mean Wednesday?” Ryder asked.

  Myrtle nodded. “Early that morning, I saw her carrying some kind of bundle out to the car. Then she sped away.”

  Tia’s lungs squeezed for air. Tuesday night was when Jordie disappeared.

  * * *

  RYDER AND TIA spent the next half hour questioning other neighbors. They met a young woman strolling twin toddlers into the driveway across the street. Tia gushed over the children, a boy and girl, who looked to be about a year and a half old.

  Ryder made the introductions.

  “I’m Dannika,” the young woman said. “I’m not sure how I can help.”

  “Tell us about your neighbor Wanda,” Ryder began.

  Dannika claimed Wanda liked to entertain late at night, and that she’d seen several men come and go over the last month but had never been introduced to any of them. One drove a black Range Rover and another a dented white pickup. She made sure her children stayed in the fenced backyard instead of wondering to the front because she was worried about Wanda’s driving.

  Tia’s face blanched at that statement.

  Ryder didn’t like the picture this neighbor was painting. “She was driving while intoxicated?”

  “It appeared that way,” the young woman said. “She was reckless, weaving all over the road. One night she smashed her own mailbox.”

  Tia wiped perspiration from her forehead. “Did she have family around?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Did you see her with a baby?” Ryder asked.

  The woman took a sip of her bottled water. “No, although sometime Wednesday afternoon, she was carrying a bundle to the car. It could have been a baby wrapped up in a blanket.”

  Ryder’s jaw hardened, but he worked to maintain a neutral expression. So if she’d left early that morning, she might have returned for some reason. “Was anyone with her that day?”

  “No. But an SUV was parked in the drive that morning.”

  “What kind?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “Black. I think it was a 4Runner.”

  “Did you see the driver?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

  Ryder handed her a business card. “If you think of anything else that might help, please give me a call.”

  She accepted the card with a nod then knelt to console the little girl who’d woken from her nap and started to fuss.

  Tia looked longingly at the toddlers as they said goodbye and walked to the next house.

  A teenage boy answered the door wearing a rock band T-shirt, his arms covered in tattoos, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes looked bloodshot. “Yeah?”

  “Are your parents home?” Ryder asked.

  The kid’s fingers curled around the door edge as if he might slam it in their face—or run. “No.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Daddy lit out when I was three. Mama’s working at the dry cleaner’s down the street.” He shoved his hand in his back pocket and shifted nervously. “Why?”

  “I need to talk to them.”

  Panic streaked the teen’s eyes when Ryder flashed his badge. “Look, man, I ain’t done nothing.”

  Ryder chuckled sarcastically. “I don’t care if you’re smoking weed or have drugs here at the moment, buddy. We’re looking for a kidnapped baby.”

  The teen cursed. “I didn’t steal any kid.”

  “It was my baby,” Tia said quickly. “And we don’t think you took him. But the woman next door, Wanda, might have.”

  “Have you seen her around?” Ryder asked.

  The boy tugged at the ripped end of his T-shirt. “Not today.”

  “Did you see her with a baby?” Tia asked.

  “Naw.” He shot a quick glance down the street.

  “What’s going on down there?” Ryder asked.

  The boy looked down at his shoes. “That’s where she gets her stash.”

  “Her dealer lives on the street?” Ryder asked.

  The boy shrugged.

  “Is he your supplier?” Ryder asked.

  “No, hell, no.” Fear darkened his face. “And don’t tell him I said anything. I don’t want him coming after me.”

  Ryder grimaced. “Don’t worry, I won’t mention you. I’ll tell him we’re talking to all the neighbors, which is true.”

  Relief softened the wariness in the teen’s eyes.

  Ryder pushed his card into the boy’s hand. “Call me if you see Wanda come back, or if you think of anything that could help.”

  The boy nodded, his eyes darting down the street again.

  Ryder turned to leave, his gaze scanning the area in case someone was watching.

  * * *

  PURE PANIC SEIZED TIA. “Oh, my God,” Tia said as the young man closed the door in their faces. “What if Wanda is high and driving around with Jordie? She might have an accident or lose her temper—”

  “Shh, don’t go there,” he said softly. Ryder gripped Tia’s arms and forced her to look at him. “We don’t know that she took Jordie.”

  “But what if she did?” Tia cried. “I’ve heard of desperate addicts actually selling their children or trading them for their fix.”


  “I know it’s difficult not to imagine the worst,” Ryder said, “but we need to focus. We still have a lot of possibilities to explore. The woman in the security footage at the hospital, for one.”

  Tia inhaled a deep breath. “All right. What do we do next?”

  “I’m going to talk to the drug dealer,” Ryder said. “You need to wait in the car.”

  “But I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Ryder’s jaw tightened. “It’s too dangerous. We have no idea if he’s armed or if there are thugs working with him.”

  He walked her back to his SUV.

  “Be careful,” Tia said as he started down the sidewalk toward the drug dealer’s house.

  She accessed the pictures on her phone and studied each one she’d taken of Jordie while she waited. Although she didn’t need to look at them—she’d already memorized each detail.

  * * *

  RYDER SCRUTINIZED THE yard and house as he approached. The windows were covered with black-out curtains, the window in the garage covered as well.

  Could be a sign that the man who lived inside had something to hide.

  He raised his fist to knock, his instincts on alert. The yard was unkempt, and a black sedan with tinted windows sat in the drive. He banged his fist on the door, one hand sliding inside his jacket, ready to draw his weapon if needed.

  Inside, a voice shouted something, then footsteps pounded.

  Ryder knocked again, and the voice he’d heard called out, “Coming.”

  Ryder glanced to the side of house, looking for signs of a meth lab—or a runner.

  The door squeaked open, and gray eyes peered back, a twentysomething male with a head of shaggy hair glaring at him. “Yeah?”

  Ryder flashed his credentials and was rewarded by a panicked look from the guy. “I’m canvassing the neighbors to see if anyone has seen Wanda Hanson, who lives in that house.” He pointed to the run-down ranch they’d come from.

  “Listen, man, I don’t know many of the neighbors,” the guy said. “We don’t exactly have cul-de-sac parties around here.”

  No, but maybe crack parties. “But you may have seen the news about a missing infant, a six-week-old boy named Jordie Jeffries?”

  “Do I look like I’ve got a kid in here?” the guy said, belligerence edging his tone.

  Suddenly a movement to the right caught Ryder’s eye, then the door slammed shut in his face.

  A second guy exited a side door and darted to a truck parked at the curb.

  Ryder pulled his gun from his holster and shouted for him to stop. But the man he’d been talking to at the door ran out the side after the truck.

  Suddenly Tia bolted from the SUV and dashed toward the truck.

  He yelled for her to go back, but a shot rang out, the bullet zinging toward Tia.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ryder grabbed Tia and wrapped his arms around her, then threw her to the ground, using his body as a shield to protect her as they dodged another bullet.

  Tia screamed and clutched his back as he rolled them toward the bushes.

  “Stay down,” he growled in her ear.

  She nodded against his chest, and he lifted his head and peered up at the truck. Another bullet flew toward them.

  He motioned for Tia to keep cover in the bushes as he drew his gun and fired at the driver. He missed and the man jumped in the truck.

  Ryder pushed to his knees and inched forward, gun at the ready. The engine fired up. Tires squealed as the driver accelerated and pulled from the curb. Ryder jogged forward and shot at the tires, memorizing the tag as the truck sped down the road.

  He turned and saw Tia running toward him. Dammit. “I told you to stay down.”

  “They’re getting away,” Tia cried.

  Ryder stowed his gun in his holster and coaxed Tia back to his SUV. She sank into the passenger seat, and he phoned his superior and explained the situation, then gave him the license plate and the address of the house. “Get an APB out on this truck. I also need a warrant to search his place.”

  “You got it. I’ll contact the local sheriff and have him bring the warrant.”

  Ryder bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t particularly want Sheriff Gaines in the middle of this, but excluding him would cause more trouble. Pissing off the man in his own jurisdiction could work against him.

  Connor transferred him to the tech analyst Gwen.

  Ryder gave her the home address. “Tell me what you find on the man who lives here.”

  Tia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand trembling. He tilted her chin up with his thumb. “You okay?”

  She nodded, expression earnest as they waited.

  Seconds later, Gwen came back on the phone. “House is owned by a couple in Texas. They’ve been renting it for the last year to a twenty-five-year-old student named Neil Blount. But...” She hesitated and Ryder thumped his boot on the ground.

  “Arrest record?”

  “A couple of misdemeanors for possession. Looks like he dropped out of college.”

  “Job history?”

  “Nothing substantial. He worked at a couple of hamburger joints. Last job was at a bar called the Big Mug.”

  Ryder hissed. The matches outside Tia’s place had come from that bar. “Find out everything you can on that bar, its owner and history. They could be running drugs out of there.”

  * * *

  TIA WATCHED AS Ryder and the sheriff entered Neil Blount’s house. If Jordie had been with those men at any time, what had they done with him?

  Her phone buzzed, the caller display box reading Crossroads.

  It was Elle. “Hey, Tia, I just called to see how things are going.”

  Tia relayed what had happened. “At this point, I don’t know if Wanda or this man had anything to do with Jordie’s disappearance, but Ryder is looking into them. What’s happening at Crossroads? Do you need me to come in?” Tia asked.

  “No, everything is going smoothly,” Elle assured her. “The new family has settled in. I already set up a job interview for the mother. She seems anxious to accept our help so she can get back on her feet.”

  “Good. That’s half the battle,” Tia murmured. Sometimes families resisted accepting help or, in some instances, emotional issues and addictions kept them from following through on good intentions.

  “I’m saying a prayer for you,” Elle said. “I know you’re going to find him, Tia. I just know it.”

  Tia wished she felt as optimistic.

  “Call me if you hear something.”

  Tia thanked her and disconnected just as Ryder exited the house. She rushed toward him. “Any sign of Jordie?”

  He shook his head. “No. We did find drugs, enough to indicate Blount is into dealing big-time. Sheriff Gaines agreed to get his deputy to work with one of the DEA’s special agents to see just how big his operation is.”

  “Where is my baby, Ryder?” Tia said in a hoarse whisper.

  Ryder wanted to console her, but he couldn’t lie to her. “I found a laptop and am sending it to the lab for analysis. If there’s any mention of a kidnapping or possible child-stealing ring, they’ll find it.”

  Tia nodded, although anxiety knotted her shoulders. A child-stealing ring? God...that could mean that whoever had taken Jordie might have sold him to a stranger.

  That stranger could be halfway across the world with her son by now.

  * * *

  RYDER HATED CHASING false leads, and Blount and Wanda both might be dead ends. Although at this point, he had no other clues. “We have time before the interview,” Ryder said as he and Tia got in his SUV. “I want to go by the Big Mug on the way.”

  Tia twined her hands in her lap, twisting them in a nervous gesture. “What i
f they’re long gone? Maybe in Mexico or Europe or Brazil?”

  Ryder covered her hand with his to calm her. Her fingers felt cold, stiff, her anxiety palpable. “That would mean passports, flight plans. We didn’t find anything in Wanda’s house to indicate she’d made arrangements to leave the country. And with the Amber Alert and airport, train and bus stations on guard, someone would have seen them.”

  “Not necessarily,” Tia argued. “A woman cuddling a baby wouldn’t arouse suspicion.”

  “No, but authorities will be watching for anyone behaving suspiciously. Also, to travel with an infant, you have to provide a birth certificate.”

  Ryder started the engine and pulled onto the road, heading toward the Big Mug.

  “Can’t people fake birth certificates?” Tia asked.

  Ryder veered around a curve, staying right when the road forked. It definitely had happened, especially with criminals who stole children as a business. But he didn’t want to panic Tia any more than she already was.

  “It’s difficult, but it can be done,” Ryder said. “Knowing there’s an Amber Alert for an infant, security personnel and authorities will scrutinize documents carefully.” At least he hoped they would.

  A slacker could miss crucial signs on faked documents, though. Worse, if the kidnapper was smart, he or she might have altered the baby’s name, birth date and even his sex. People were looking for a baby boy. They might not take a second look at an infant swaddled in pink.

  Tia lapsed into a strained silence while they drove, the deserted land stretching before them a reminder that a kidnapper could have vanished somewhere in the Wyoming wilderness and stay hidden until the hype surrounding the baby’s disappearance died down.

  Then he or she would try to make a hasty escape.

  They had to find Jordie before that happened.

  The gray clouds overhead darkened, casting a dismal feel as they ventured into the outskirts of town. The Big Mug sat off the country road next to a rustic-looking barbecue place called the Tasty Pig, a place Ryder had heard had the best barbecue this side of Cheyenne. His mouth watered at the thought, but one peek at Tia told him that food wasn’t on her mind.

  All she wanted was to find her baby. He didn’t have time to feed his stomach when she was hurting and Jordie’s kidnapper might be getting farther and farther away.

 

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