His Case, Her Baby. Carla Cassidy

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and an angry gash on the side of her forehead couldn’t detract from her fragile beauty.

      Both she and Benjamin sat at the kitchen table. In the center of the table was an empty infant seat covered in pink material and ruffles.

      Tom knew most of the people in the small town of Black Rock, but he’d never seen Peyton Wilkerson before. If he had, he definitely would have remembered.

      As he stepped into the room she jumped up from her chair. “Thank God,” she said, tears shimmering in her already swollen eyes as she reached out and grabbed his hand. “Sheriff, you have to do something. You have to go get my Lilly.”

      Her hand was fevered and trembled in his. The sense of urgency that he’d felt when Caleb had told him a baby was missing welled up inside him.

      “Who took her?” Tom asked.

      “Her name is Kathy Simon, and she lives in the Black Rock Apartments. Please, we have to get my baby back. She’s only four months old.” A sob escaped her as Tom led her back to the chair where she’d been seated.

      “You know what apartment she lives in?” he asked, aware that Caleb had come into the room.

      Peyton frowned. “No, not specifically. Whenever I’ve dropped her off, it’s always been at the front entrance.”

      “What does she look like?” Tom asked.

      “She has shoulder-length red hair and blue eyes. She’s taller than me and very thin. She told me she was twenty-nine, the same age as me.”

      “Caleb, Benjamin, head over to the apartments and check it out,” Tom said. “Get out an AMBER Alert and have Sam run a check on a Kathy Simon. Tell Clay and Eric to set up roadblocks on both ends of town and to check every car leaving town.”

      “I want to go to the apartments, too,” Peyton exclaimed.

      “You and I are going to stay here so I can ask you some questions,” Tom said firmly. “My deputies will check things out.” He nodded in dismissal to his brothers, who immediately left.

      He returned his attention to Peyton, who looked as if she were hanging onto her very sanity by a thread. “Tell me what happened this morning.”

      For a moment he thought she was going to break down altogether. Her lips trembled and tears filled her eyes. “Please, Mrs. Wilkerson. I know this is difficult, but the more information I have the easier it will be to find your baby.”

      She drew a deep breath and visibly pulled herself together. “I had just finished cleaning the kitchen when Kathy showed up.” She gripped a tissue in her hand so tightly her knuckles were white.

      “I smell bleach. Is that what you were cleaning with?” he asked.

      She nodded. “I always use a little bleach when I clean, especially when I mop the floor.”

      Tom watched her carefully, trying to discern any deceit in the depths of her blue eyes. “You and this Kathy, you were friends? “

      She nodded, a single curt nod. The sunshine streaming through the window sparkled in her pale blond hair. “We met about two months ago, right after I moved here. She was new to Black Rock, too, and we hit it off right away.”

      Tom pulled a small notepad and a pen from his pocket.

      “You have a phone number for her?”

      “No, she told me she didn’t have a phone. She said she was short on money and had to cancel her cell phone and hadn’t yet gotten a landline.”

      “What about a car? Do you know what kind she drove?”

      She raised a trembling hand to her forehead and frowned. “I don’t know. She mentioned something about it being in the shop.”

      “Do you know where she was from?”

      Her frown deepened, the gesture doing nothing to detract from her attractiveness. “Chicago, I think.”

      “Where’s your husband? Can I call him for you?”

      She shook her head. “I’m not married. Lilly’s father lives in Wichita.”

      “What’s his name?” Tom asked. Maybe this was some sort of parental kidnapping, he thought. God, he hoped so. At least then he’d know the baby was safe.

      “Rick, Rick Powell,” she replied. Her eyes widened. “Surely you don’t think he had anything to do with this. He wouldn’t. He’s an assistant district attorney. He’d never be part of anything like this,” she exclaimed.

      She scooted back from the table and jumped up, her slender body vibrating with energy. “We don’t have time to sit here and talk. I need to find Lilly.” She reached up and grabbed the back of her head and grimaced.

      Tom wouldn’t have thought her face could get any paler, but it blanched of any lingering color. He jumped to his feet and grabbed her by the arm. “Are you all right? Do you need medical attention? “

      She dropped her hand to her side, her body weaving slightly. “I sent the ambulance away. I’m all right. I just hit my head on the bathtub when she attacked me.”

      She allowed Tom to guide her back into the chair at the table. He could smell her, a scent of fresh flowers and despair, and he tried to maintain emotional distance, knowing that it was possible that all was not what it seemed.

      As he asked her about the particulars of the attack and listened to her answers, he assessed the kitchen which was now a crime scene.

      Did she like things so neat and clean, or had she sanitized the house before calling for help? Had a terrible accident taken place here and now she was trying to cover it up?

      Certainly the news was full of stories of babies who had been shaken to death or suffocated by an overwrought parent. Or was it as she said, and a kidnapping had really occurred? It was too early to know the truth.

      As quickly as possible, Tom got the pertinent information from her, and then he called in two of his deputies to fingerprint and collect evidence from the bathroom and the kitchen. He called another deputy to check with the garage to see if Kathy Simon had a car being worked on there.

      With the arrival of the two deputies, Tom moved Peyton into the living room, where she paced the floor and looked as if she were about ready to jump out of her skin.

      Tom had placed a call to Rick Powell and had gotten in touch with his secretary, as Rick was in trial. She’d promised to pass a message to him as soon as possible for him to call Tom.

      Peyton had been seated on the sofa, hands wringing and her delicate features taut with tension as Tom directed his deputies attempting to lift fingerprints from the surfaces Kathy might have touched.

      Although she appeared calm, but stressed, Tom sensed an explosion coming. He saw it in the white of her knuckles as she folded her hands together, in the deepening hue of her blue eyes as she watched him.

      So far she’d been patient and cooperative, but he had a feeling that that was coming to an end quickly. As if to prove his intuition, she sprang up from the sofa

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