by Debra Webb
“I put in a call to Houston PD and asked that they put their finest on it,” Simon assured him. “How is Laney holding up?”
“About as well as can be expected.” Damn Terry Kingston. How could he use his son this way? Was the guy totally heartless?
“Keep her close, Hayden,” Simon warned. “Her emotional state could prove a danger to herself and her son. We don’t know what Clare Barker and Weeden have planned. It’s doubtful Kingston’s actions are related to their intentions but there are no certainties here.”
“Got it covered.” Christ. Joel hadn’t even asked about Lucas. “What about Lucas? Any luck with the search?”
“His cell carrier has narrowed down his last registered location as being in the vicinity of Laney’s home. Service is sketchy on some of the back roads between her house and the city. They can’t pinpoint the area as well as we’d like but at least we have some place to search.”
“His intent had been to stay at the High Noon,” Joel said, mentally replaying his last conversation with Lucas. “If he changed his mind and decided to stake out the house, he never mentioned it.”
“If Lucas had reason to suspect Clare and her accomplice would show up at Laney’s home, he would follow that hunch.”
“It would help if he’d given me a heads-up.” The idea that he and Laney had spent hours making love while Lucas ran into trouble pained him deeply. Joel should have been providing backup instead of indulging in his own selfish needs.
“Lucas has spent a lifetime in covert operations. He’s accustomed to following his instincts with or without backup. This was his decision. Bear that in mind.”
That fact didn’t relieve the regret Joel felt for not anticipating that kind of move out of a man like Lucas. As true as that was, he couldn’t regret the bond he and Laney had formed.
Simon ended the call with the assurance he would keep Joel posted and Joel was to do the same.
The office door opened and the two detectives exited. Laney stalled in her pacing and waited expectantly for any answers they may have secured.
“Ma’am,” the detective in charge said, “we believe Miss Rucker has given us all she knows and it isn’t much. We’ll be covering as much ground as quickly as possible in hopes of finding your son and his father without delay. My advice is that you stay home where you can be reached at all times and in the event Kingston decides to drop the child off.”
“They do that sometimes,” the other detective offered. “They make a rash decision like this out of emotion then reality sets in. You’ll need to be home if your boy shows up there.”
The two detectives looked as grim and exhausted as Joel felt. But they couldn’t possibly have any idea how bad this could get.
Laney thanked the two men and stood like a statue as they moved toward Joel. He braced for whatever bad news they might be about to relay to him that they hadn’t wanted to pass on to Laney. He was thankful when she joined Tatum at the bar.
“We have a few calls to make. Outside,” the one in charge said. “Ms. Rucker is trying to reach her attorney. We’re giving her a few minutes of privacy to do that before we take her in. Make sure she stays put.”
The detective’s message was loud and clear. Joel had asked for more time with the woman. They were giving it to him. “Count on it.”
When they were out the door, he strode to the office.
Margo was fiddling with her cell and swiping at her tears. Joel closed the door and she looked up. “What do you want?” she demanded.
He pulled a chair over to sit knee-to-knee with her. “The police will be taking you to booking in a few minutes.”
She blinked back more tears.
“Accessory to felony kidnapping is a serious charge. You’ll do time.” He leaned forward. “And if the kid dies, you’ll end up on death row.” Even suggesting that travesty out loud ripped him apart inside.
“I told them everything I know.” Her voice trembled. “He’s the kid’s father. I didn’t know it was kidnapping. He’s just trying to get time with his kid.”
“Ignorance of the law won’t change the charges, Ms. Rucker. You’re in deep trouble here but if you help us find him, maybe I can put in a word.”
She dragged in a shaky breath. “How can I help you? I don’t know anything else! Don’t you think I want to get out of this mess? Terry screwed me over on this.”
“Think,” Joel pressed. “He won’t be stupid enough to go home to his father’s or to whatever apartment or hotel he uses for sleeping off his drinking binges. But he will go somewhere. Most likely someplace familiar.”
Realization dawned on her face. “That mechanic who works on his cars. Makes ’em go faster or something. He hangs out with him a lot. Even slept in his fancy garage a time or two. He got that car he’s driving there.”
“Who is this mechanic?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been to his place and I only met him once but I’ve heard ’em talk on the phone before.” She frowned in concentration. “Studdard or Stuttart. Something like that. He’s a big deal around here. Pimps out the motors instead of the bodies. He’s kinda famous. He shouldn’t be hard for a guy like you to find.”
“Anything else?” Joel pushed. “Any friends? Any place at all that he frequents? A restaurant? A department store?”
She laughed. “Terry doesn’t have any real friends. Just the ones like the mechanic who make money off him.”
“Do you think he’d go back to Houston?” With the Amber Alert he was far more likely to be caught on any main roads and in the larger cities where there was more of a media and police presence. Joel figured he would lay low someplace out of the way until he figured out his next step, which was probably to bring Buddy back just like the detective said. The guy wasn’t ambitious enough to have a real plan.
Kingston might be a drunk but he wasn’t stupid enough to purposely hurt the kid.
“No way he’d go near his father. They had a big fight this morning. Terry says he’s done with his daddy.”
Right. His daddy was his money supply. That would be a short-lived position.
Joel took her phone and entered his cell number into her contact list. “You remember anything or you hear anything, you call me first.”
Margo nodded. “I’m really going to jail?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Her sobs followed him out the door.
Laney waited for him, her expression hopeful, her eyes still filled with terror.
He hugged her and whispered in her ear. “Have Tatum close up. Get your things. We have a lead.”
Her breath caught and she trembled in his arms. Then she nodded and rushed to do as he’d asked.
Whatever he had to do to make this right, Joel intended to make it happen. And when he got his hands on Kingston, he was beating the hell out of him. Then Joel would call the cops and give them the lead he was keeping to himself for now…for entirely selfish reasons. Joel wanted to get his hands on Kingston first.
Chapter Seventeen
Studdard Power Engines, Port Arthur, Texas
Friday, May 31st, 6:15 a.m.
Laney felt numb. She thought of all the times Terry had shown up at her house or the saloon too drunk to walk much less drive. He was careless and selfish. He never thought of anyone but himself.
He’d taken Buddy.
She clutched Mr. Bear tighter to her chest. Buddy wouldn’t have wanted to go without his bear or without saying goodbye to her. She kept imagining him crying for her.
Laney closed her eyes and prayed again for God to keep her baby safe. The one thing that gave her any relief at all was that she knew Terry wouldn’t intentionally hurt Buddy. But the problem with Terry was that he simply was not capable of taking care of himself, much less a child.
“That looks like him.”
At the sound of Joel’s voice Laney opened her eyes and searched the street. A blue sports car roared into the parking lot. She and Joel had been sitting here for half
an hour waiting for the owner, Rudy Studdard, to show up. Her pulse rate started to climb. Was he finally here? The better question was, would he be able to help them?
Simon Ruhl and one of the nice detectives—she couldn’t remember his name—had promised to contact her or Joel immediately if they found anything…if there was an accident or a report from a hospital or any word at all about Buddy.
On the half-hour drive from Beaumont to Port Arthur she had seen one of the massive electronic billboards that displayed the face and contact information of any missing child. Seeing Buddy’s face on there had been like a bullet to her heart.
Please let my baby be okay. She was terrified by her personal knowledge of Terry’s carelessness. He didn’t even have a damned car seat for Buddy. Even though Buddy was five, he was still below the weight requirements to use a seat belt only.
He was just a baby.
Despite the police having already checked the low-rent apartment in Beaumont that Margo had said Terry had leased, she and Joel had checked it out, as well. They’d gone to all the haunts the woman had mentioned Terry frequented. Simon Ruhl’s contact in Houston had gotten a firm “haven’t seen or heard from him” when they visited old man Kingston in the middle of the night. Simon was also pushing the police to move faster on getting a warrant for Terry’s cell-phone carrier.
Each hour that passed tore another hole in Laney’s heart.
They had to find him.
A tall, lanky man climbed out of the sports car and strolled to the entrance of his garage, which looked more like a showroom for new automobiles. But there were mechanic’s bays in the rear. The lot was full of fancy sports cars, not unlike the one Studdard drove, that were protected by an electrified high fence. Concertina wire was rolled across the top. The car Laney had taken the bat to was there. Had her actions propelled this nightmare?
Focus, Laney. She had to keep a clear head if she was going to be of any use to Buddy. He would be counting on her to find him. This was a good start.
Terry had definitely been here recently.
They had gone to Studdard’s home first and gotten his wife out of bed. She claimed her husband was out of town and wouldn’t be back until morning. And when he got back, she further stated, he would go straight to his shop. She gave Joel the husband’s cell number but told him not to waste his time, Studdard never answered it anyway unless it was a client’s number that he recognized.
And she had been right.
The wife insisted Studdard would be at the shop between six and seven, no exceptions. His work was his life. She gave the impression of not caring one way or the other as long as the bank account stayed healthy.
“Stay in the Jeep,” Joel ordered.
Before she could argue, he got out and called the man’s name.
For a moment Laney sat there obediently, too emotionally drained to do any differently.
The man turned, his posture reflecting his apprehension as Joel approached him. Laney was thankful he didn’t run. Though Studdard was tall, he was thin. He didn’t look like the type to fend off a mugger with his own two hands. His hair was dark and he wore glasses and preppy clothes. Probably expensive. Probably never wore the same getup twice. He and Terry had that in common. Along with the expensive car fetish.
They spoke for a minute and Studdard began to shake his head. Laney’s heart sank. Where would they go from here? He had to know something. They had learned that the damned car Terry was driving right now came from this man.
Fury driving her, Laney got out of the Jeep and marched up to the door. Both men looked at her in surprise.
“Mr. Studdard?”
“Laney,” Joel said gently. “You should wait in the car.”
Studdard looked from her to Joel and back. “I haven’t seen Kingston since the day before yesterday when he dropped his damaged car off here and borrowed a loaner.”
“But you’ve talked before,” Laney accused, desperate. “Maybe gone out for a meal together. Surely he’s mentioned places he likes to hang out or places he might have been or be planning to go.” She needed something from this man!
Studdard sighed. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll see what I can do.” He shrugged. “I know a few others he’s done business with.” He looked at Joel. “If you know what I mean.”
“Are you referring to drugs, Mr. Studdard?” she asked.
Laney steeled for worse news. If Terry had gotten into drugs… Oh, God. Her body started to quake. As strong as she wanted to be for Buddy, she couldn’t keep the fear at bay.
“Yes. Very recently. That’s why I limit my dealings with him to strictly business. I won’t take the risk. My clients are the rich and powerful. Whatever they do behind closed doors, they have no desire to do business with anyone with a less-than-stellar reputation.”
Laney thought of all the horror stories she had seen on the news where people sold their children for money to buy drugs. Bile burned her throat. But Terry had money… Or had his father really cut him off completely?
Inside, Studdard locked the front entrance behind them and flipped on the lights. “No one else will be here before eight-thirty. I like coming in early to get paperwork done.”
“We appreciate your help, Studdard,” Joel said. “A missing child requires the attention of everyone who knows the person responsible.”
Studdard pushed his glasses up his nose. “Certainly.”
He led the way through the showroom of expensive-looking cars. In his office, he flipped on the lights and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
“I never gave Terry my personal numbers.” He glanced at Laney. “I only do that with close, trustworthy associates. He has this number.” He indicated the phone on his desk. “If he called me, the number will be on the caller ID and if he wanted something he will have left a voice mail.”
Laney prayed he was right. She sat on the edge of her seat. Joel stood behind her.
“Several calls,” Studdard muttered as he scrolled through the numbers. He paused, studied the screen on his desk phone. “And there he is. He called at two thirty-eight this morning.” He hit the button to play his voice mails.
Laney held her breath.
He skipped through four calls before Terry’s voice floated from the machine. “Studdard, I have a situation.”
Thank God he didn’t sound wasted. Hope dared to swell in her chest.
“I need another car. ASAP. I can’t come to your shop so bring it to the coffeehouse on 365. I’ll be waiting. I’ve got cash. If anyone comes looking for me, you didn’t get this call. Screw me over and I’ll tell your wife about your extracurricular activities. Hey, and bring me one of your car seats.”
Laney gasped, the sound ragged.
Red climbed Studdard’s face. “I hope—” He cleared his throat “I hope…this helps in some way.”
“Let’s go,” Joel said. “You’re going to help a lot more.”
Studdard reared back in his chair. “I’ve already—”
“He knows my Jeep,” Joel argued. “He’s expecting you and a new ride. That’s what he’s going to get.” Studdard started to argue again but Joel shut him up with a raised hand. “If this guy gets spooked he could run. A high-speed chase could have a bad ending.”
Studdard blinked twice.
“You help us,” Joel offered, “and the police don’t have to be involved. No one has to know you help friends out this way. Clearly Kingston felt comfortable relaying he had a situation. And considering he’s not one of your trustworthy clients, I can only guess what you will and have done for those folks.”
Laney was holding her breath again, tears brimming on her lashes. She should have gone to the house for her gun. Then, by God, this guy wouldn’t hesitate. Joel had a handgun in his Jeep. He had showed it to her. But Joel insisted he never used it unless there was no other recourse.
Studdard finally acquiesced. “All right.”
He selected a modified, as he called it, two-door he fel
t confident Terry would like. Laney rode in the front with him since she was small enough to hunker down in the floorboard when they approached Terry’s car. Joel was slouched down across the tiny backseat since there was no way he could get enough of his big body below the level of the dashboard up front.
Laney consoled herself with memories of her baby. From the first time he had smiled up at her at two months old, she had known they were going to be fine. They had each other and the rest would fall into place in time.
She had let him down.
The drive took less than ten minutes but each one felt like a lifetime to Laney. Daylight had chased away the darkness but the rising sun did nothing to rid her of the chill that had settled deep in her bones.
Her baby had been missing for over eight hours now. Her soul cried out in anguish.
There was a fair-size crowd at the coffeehouse but Terry’s car wasn’t in the lot. He’d parked across the street in the parking lot of a defunct gas station. He had backed up to the building, so that his vehicle pointed toward the street.
For a fast getaway, Laney supposed. Or maybe to hide his license plate in case the police were looking for him.
“Nose up to him,” Joel told Studdard. “We don’t want him trying to take off.”
Laney hunkered down in the seat. Studdard did as Joel ordered.
“Shut off the engine and get out,” Joel told him.
“Okay.” The man’s voice shook a little now. His fingers fumbled on the keys.
“Stay calm, Studdard,” Joel urged. “We have reason to believe he’s armed.”
“What?” Studdard turned around in his seat. “You didn’t say anything about that before.”
“Get out of the car,” Joel growled. “He’s not going to shoot you. He thinks you’re here to help. You want him thinking you’re not?”
Studdard adjusted his glasses. “But he’s just sitting there. Why doesn’t he get out?”
Enough of the debating and second-guessing. Laney grabbed the door handle and wrenched the door open. To hell with Studdard. She bailed out with Joel trying his best to grab her and drag her back into the car.
