When she’d left him this morning, fast asleep in her bed, she’d also left a draft of her story on the table for him to read. She hoped he’d be pleased with it. She was.
After gathering her notes, finishing her calls, she grabbed a fast-food lunch for both of them, then headed back to the carriage house to tell Jake what she’d discovered. Excitement pulsed through her, and she had trouble concentrating on her driving, but she steadfastly refused to allow herself to moon over him.
Instead, she went over the facts she’d learned this morning during the past week, surprised by the vast amount of information she’d been able to put together.
Perhaps because the Ryans had never publicly discussed so many of the details of Jesse’s disappearance, no one else had been able to patch together a complete “what-if” scenario involving all the players, since no one really knew who all the players were.
She hoped with the new information she’d learned in the past few days, she just might be able to do that, and find some resolution.
She’d always relied on her hunches, and after going over all her notes again this morning, she’d decided to play one of them. She had nothing to lose.
Now, as she pulled into the driveway, she couldn’t help but smile, thinking about Jake, wondering if he’d awakened yet. Quietly, she let herself into the house, surprised to find it silent except for the shower running.
Smiling again, she set out their lunch, then gathered ketchup, mustard, plates and napkins and set them on the table.
Barefoot, with a towel wrapped around his gorgeous hips and his dark hair damp and curly, Jake walked into the room, looking like a large, sleepyeyed cat. Rebecca’s heart started pounding.
“Well, good morning,” she said nervously, not certain how to respond to him. The morning after… She’d never actually been in this position before, and didn’t know what to expect.
He grinned. Still rubbing his damp hair with a second towel, he crossed to her, lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her silly. “Good morning to you,” he whispered, letting his lips caress and nuzzle hers until she felt weak in the knees.
Blinking away the fog that had accumulated on her brain, Rebecca tried to ignore the magnetic pull of him. “I brought food.”
He grinned again, straddling a chair, which caused his towel to dip haphazardly around his waist. “So I see,” he said, reaching for a burger with visible delight.
“Jake.”
The tone of her voice stopped him cold and he glanced up at her, then frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I…” She was so excited she could barely contain herself. He pulled out a chair for her and pointed to it, so she sat. “Jake, this morning I learned something about that threatening phone call made the week before Jesse disappeared.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Rebecca?” He set his burger down and gave her his full attention.
“I spoke to Martin Weaver this morning by phone. He’s the ranch hand Tommy fired. As soon as Jesse disappeared, the authorities went to interview Mr. Weaver, but as you told me this morning, he was in a hospital detox program and so they ruled him out as a suspect.”
“Yeah, so?” Jake shrugged.
“Well, Martin Weaver admitted that he was the one who made the threatening phone call to Tommy the week before Jesse disappeared. So that phone call and the kidnapping had absolutely nothing to do with one another. They were totally separate incidents.”
“Are you sure?” Jake asked.
“I’m positive, Jake. Martin Weaver was drunk and he was angry.” Rebecca’s gaze softened and she laid her hand on his. “He was angry at being fired, and he feared losing his wife, so he wanted to do something to get back at Tommy.”
“So he called and threatened Tommy’s family?” Jake’s voice rose in anger and he blew out a breath.
Rebecca smiled at him, understanding his feelings completely. “In Martin Weaver’s mind, I’m sure it made some sense.” She shrugged. “Maybe it made him feel like he had some power, some grasp of a situation that he really had lost control of.”
“If you say so,” Jake said skeptically, trying to hide the turmoil growing inside of him.
Rebecca sighed heavily, holding on to his hand. “Anyway, Jake, he readily admitted to making that call and now even admits how foolish it was. But he’s no longer drinking and he regrets a lot of the things he did back then.” She hesitated, knowing Jake would probably never have any sympathy for the man. “He made the call out of desperation, Jake, but I honestly don’t believe he had anything to do with Jesse’s disappearance.”
Jake studied her beautiful face, her eyes, her mouth—a mouth he’d kissed silly last night and couldn’t seem to get enough of. “Rebecca, you believe this guy, don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” she said without hesitation. “I’m convinced Martin Weaver’s call and Jesse’s disappearance are totally unrelated.”
Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Then if that’s the case, we still don’t know what happened to Jesse, do we?”
“Not yet,” she said with a smile. “But I’m working on it. Martin Weaver gave me a name, something to go on. And hopefully this afternoon I’ll be able to find this woman I’m looking for. A woman who might know something about Jesse’s disappearance.” A woman who had known and been a friend of her mother’s, Rebecca thought, but couldn’t add, knowing she could never tell Jake this part. “So I’ve still got some things to tackle.” She reached for her own burger, suddenly starved. “I’ve got to go back out as soon as I eat.”
“What woman, Rebecca?” he asked anxiously, leaning forward. “Is it someone who might know about Jesse?”
“I’m not sure, Jake, and I don’t want to get your hopes up until I find out for certain.” She shrugged. “It’s been almost two decades. This woman could be dead, or living in another part of the world, for all we know.” Rebecca patted his hand. “I promise I’ll tell you everything and anything I find out, but you’ve got to trust me.” Her eyes searched his. “Can you do that for a little while longer?”
Aware of the promise he’d made to her—and to himself—Jake nodded. “Yes.”
She fairly beamed at him. “Good.”
He frowned again. “Do you want me to talk to Tommy and find out about that phone call from Martin Weaver? If he was ever told that the man admitted making it?”
Mouth full, she nodded, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. “Please. It’s very important.”
Unable to resist, Jake leaned across the table and gazed into her eyes suggestively. “And when you’re done…” His sexy voice trailed off, causing her heart to pound.
“And when I’m done…” She leaned forward as well, so their lips were close enough to kiss. Lightly, teasingly, she brushed her mouth against his, tormenting them both. “When I’m done I’ll be back.”
He kissed her again, stirring his blood as well as hers. “And I’ll be waiting.”
It took almost four hours for Rebecca to locate one Dottie Roberts, formerly of Saddle Falls, now living in the small town of Westbrook, Nevada, about three hundred miles away.
By the time Rebecca arrived in Westbrook, the heat was brutal and the pavement fairly shimmered in the sunlight. Grateful she’d pulled her hair atop her head, she dabbed at her damp neck with a handkerchief as she glanced up and down the nearly deserted streets.
Dottie Roberts, if she was the same woman, was now fifty-three years old and worked as a waitress in a small coffee shop called the Westbrook Diner. She’d been married and divorced three times, with no children, and worked the morning shift six days a week. She lived in a small trailer about a mile from the diner, alone except for a cat named Leo.
By the time she pushed through the door, perspiration dotted her silk summer blouse, and she was grateful for the blast of cool air that hit her.
Glancing around, she found an empty seat at the end of the counter. The restaurant was not crowded; there were only a few customers scattered here and there.
After slipping her glasses on, Rebecca slid the menu out from behind the napkin holder and glanced at it. She wasn’t really hungry—she was too tense to be able to eat anything—but wanted to look as if she had a purpose for being there.
“Can I get you some coffee, honey?”
Rebecca glanced up. The waitress was about the right age. Short and plump, she had bright, brassy hair the color of a copper penny that curled and frizzed around her head, framing her wide face. Her eyes were a clear, crystal green with deep laugh lines around them. Unlike most people in Nevada, this woman didn’t have a tan. Her skin was as white as fresh milk. Her uniform was a bright, screaming yellow and hugged her ample frame a bit too tightly.
“Yes, coffee, please,” Rebecca said with a smile, trying not to stare at the woman. She appeared to be the only waitress. Through a small service window that led to the kitchen, Rebecca could see a man— probably the cook, judging from the way he was dressed.
The bell over the door tinkled and a customer walked in, waving to the waitress. Flashing him a smile, she absently waved back before returning her attention to Rebecca. “Regular or unleaded?”
“Decaf, please.” Rebecca’s gaze shifted to the woman’s name tag. It said Dorothy. Dottie was short for Dorothy. Rebecca’s heart slowed as she stared at that little black-and-white name tag with the smiley face in one corner.
“Now, what else can I get for you?” Dottie asked as she poured coffee into a cup and set it on the counter. “Got some fresh Danish if you’ve an interest.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Her heart was beating so rapidly, Rebecca carefully lifted her cup and sipped, wanting to have a chance to stabilize her emotions. The coffee almost scalded her tongue, but the taste was heavenly and she nearly sighed. It was the first cup she’d had today and she needed it. “Actually,” she said carefully, setting her cup down and lifting her gaze to Dottie’s, “I was wondering if you could help me.”
“I can try, hon. What’s it you need?”
“I’m looking for someone, someone who used to be a friend of my…mother’s.” She kept her gaze on Dottie’s face. “It was a long time ago—almost twenty years, back in Saddle Falls, Nevada—but I was hoping I might be able to find this woman.”
“Why, isn’t that a coincidence? I used to live in Saddle Falls. It was some years back, though.” Dottie smiled. “What was this friend of your mother’s name? Maybe I knew her.”
Rebecca swallowed. “The woman’s name was Dottie Roberts.”
“Why, hon, that’s me!” Dottie pointed to her name tag. The bell rang again as a customer left. “Says Dorothy here, but everyone calls me Dottie.” She leaned her elbows on the counter and got comfortable. “So tell me, why are you looking for me?”
“I wanted to ask you some questions about my mother.”
“Well, hon, I don’t know who your mama is. If you tell me her name, I might be able to help.”
Rebecca almost winced. She’d never actually admitted out loud or in public who her mother was. It was just too painful, far too shameful. She wasn’t certain she could do so now, but she had no choice.
“My mother…my mother’s name was Margaret Brost.”
The reaction was almost instantaneous. “Becca?” Dottie’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Rebecca, her gaze going over every feature of her face. “You’re little Becca?” she said in a reverent whisper, reaching for Rebecca’s hands and clinging to them. “Lord, girl, look how you’ve grown. And you’re a looker, too.” She laughed heartily, giving them a squeeze. “I’ll bet your momma is real proud of you, sugar, real proud.”
“My mother is dead.” The coldness of her tone was not intentional, but Rebecca had had no emotion where her mother was concerned for years, so why should she expect to feel anything now that she was gone?
“Margie’s gone?” Shocked, the waitress shook her head. “Well, I’m real sorry to hear that, hon. Your mama, she was good people.” Dottie pulled a rag from her uniform pocket and began to wipe the counter. “I’ll tell you one thing, poor Margie, well, she got a raw deal back in Saddle Falls. A real raw deal. It was a shame what they did to her.” Shaking her head, she scrubbed the counter harder. “A real shame.”
Her body trembling, Rebecca leaned forward on the stool. “What do you mean, Dottie?” Desperate, she grasped the woman’s arm. “Please, talk to me. I need to know what happened to my mother. What happened the night she was watching little Jesse Ryan and he disappeared.”
Dottie hesitated, then nodded. “Eldon,” she called over her shoulder to the man in the kitchen. “Come out here and watch the counter. I’m going on break.” Reaching for a cup, she poured herself a coffee, then motioned Rebecca toward an empty booth in the back of the diner. Rebecca picked up her cup and followed, sliding into the booth opposite her.
“So, you know about little Jesse Ryan, huh?” Dottie asked with a hint of a frown.
Rebecca nodded. “Yes. I don’t remember much about that night, I just know that my mother was baby-sitting for him when he disappeared.”
“That she was, hon, and it was a shame what happened. But you listen to me. No matter what they say, your mama didn’t have nothing to do with that little boy’s disappearance.” Dottie shook her head. “Nothing at all.”
“How can you be so sure?” Rebecca asked.
Dottie averted her gaze, twisting one of the many rings on her fingers. “Cuz I’m sure, that’s all.”
Rebecca leaned forward. “Dottie, please. If you know something, please tell me about that night.”
“Why is it so important after all these years?” Dottie cocked her head, studying her. “Why would you care about this now?”
“Why?” The word nearly exploded out of Rebecca’s mouth. “I’ve lived my whole life with the fear that my mother was responsible for the disappearance of an innocent child.” Heat churned inside her, making her words harsh. “I spent most of my life living in an orphanage because my own mother didn’t want me. She abandoned me, Dottie, because of something that happened that night.” Tears filled Rebecca’s eyes. “And I think I have a right to know why.”
“Oh hon.” Dottie’s eyes filled as well. “Your mama would never have abandoned you if she didn’t have to.”
“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked with a frown. Some spark of hope that she’d carried with her from childhood flared to life, but she refused to fan the flame, afraid to truly believe she’d been wrong all these years about her mother.
She couldn’t have been wrong.
Her mother had abandoned her, hadn’t loved her enough to come back for her.
Dottie sighed. “I don’t know that your mama would want me to be telling you all this. I’ve never talked about it with no one cuz I made her a promise, hon, never to do that, and I’d never break my promise to her. But she’s gone now, and you’re all grown, so I don’t see the harm.” Dottie glanced across the room, then brought her gaze back to Rebecca’s. “That night, the night that little boy disappeared, your mama had a date.”
“A date?” Rebecca frowned. “Dottie, do you remember the man’s name?”
“Sure do. Not likely to forget it.” Dottie twisted her cup around and around. “His name was Charles, but we called him Charlie. Never did know his last name. He was supposedly some big rancher over in the next county. Your mama and I, well, we met him one night when we was out for an evening. He took a real liking to your mom, he did.” She shook her head. “Now me, I didn’t care for the man much, not from the get-go. First of all, he was married, and right there I didn’t like that he was out catting around. Second, all the money he was spending, trying to impress us—well, if the truth be told, it wasn’t his money.”
“Whose money was he spending?” Rebecca asked with a frown.
“His wife’s. Heard she came from some big, prominent family up near the state capital. Married Charles against her family’s wishes. They’d been having some marital trouble, I guess, and his wife had been threatening
to leave him and cut him off from the financial pot.”
“Is that why he was going out with my mother?”
She shrugged. “Don’t rightly know, hon. Who knows why a man does anything? But old Charlie was just a bit too slick for me, always coming up with schemes and cons to make money.” Dottie shuddered. “He smelled of five miles of bad news.”
Rebecca blinked. There was a dull pounding in the back of her head that was getting worse by the minute. Everything Dottie had told her only confirmed what she knew—or rather had believed—about her mother.
“Anyway, hon, the night little Jesse disappeared, your mama was supposed to meet Charlie up at the Saddle Falls Inn. But then she got that call to go over and baby-sit. She phoned Charlie and told him the Ryans were going out and she wasn’t going to be able to meet him because she had to sit for the youngest boy, Jesse.”
“And?”
“Well, good ole Charlie, he wasn’t one to take no for an answer. He convinced your mom to wait until you kids were asleep and then come meet him anyway.”
“Oh my God.” Rebecca’s hand flew to her mouth as bile rose, and her eyes searched Dottie’s as the truth slapped her with the force of a blow. She tried to swallow, tried to breathe, but didn’t think she was capable of either. Rebecca leaned back in the booth and let her eyes close for a moment.
“My mother wasn’t even there when Jesse was taken, was she?” she finally asked in a whisper. “She was out with Charlie.”
Dottie smiled sadly. “That’s right, hon, she wasn’t there. But of course, she couldn’t tell anyone that. She knew she’d lose her job for leaving you kids alone. But she was young and in love, and naively thought Charlie loved her, too. Thought he was gonna leave his fat-cat wife.” Dottie shook her head sadly. “That Charlie, he was one smooth talker.” Seeing the stricken look on Rebecca’s face, Dottie reached for her hands. “Hon, your mama was sick about what happened to that little boy. Just sick over it. But she had nothing to do with what went down. He was safe and sound, fast asleep, when she left to meet Charlie. When she got back a couple hours later, the front door was wide open and the boy was gone.”
With Family In Mind (Saddle Falls Book 1) Page 17
