Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

P ULLING ON LATEX GLOV ES , Stuart inspected what appeared to be a ransom note with growing concern. The message was short and to the point. The person who claimed to have taken Holly Jo said they would be contacting Holden with his or her demands. "How did you get this?"

Holden pointed at the open envelope on the desk. "Elaine found it in the mailbox this morning with the rest of the mail."

It hadn't come by US mail. No stamp, no postmark, no return address. Holden's name and that of the ranch had been printed on the envelope with exaggerated precision as if to hide the person's true handwriting.

"Do you have any idea why someone would take Holly Jo?" the sheriff asked.

Holden shook his head, but Stuart could see that he was worried it might be a personal grudge. Holden was a powerful and wealthy man with a huge ranch. He had made enemies over the years—not to mention the open war between him and Charlotte Stafford. Their offspring had gotten involved in the rivalry as well as their ranch staff.

He figured Chisum Jase "CJ" Stafford had often taken advantage of that rivalry for his own interests. But while he wouldn't have put kidnapping past CJ, Stuart didn't think this was his doing from behind bars.

But Holden also had a hotheaded older son who made no secret of his resentment of Holly Jo, according to what the sheriff had heard from his friend Cooper. Treyton McKenna and his father had been at odds for some time, but even more so after Holden had brought Holly Jo home to live with them. Treyton had also been vocal on how he felt about his brother Cooper marrying Tilly Stafford. But kidnapping the girl? What would he hope to gain?

"What are you going to do?" Holden demanded. "Holly Jo's been missing for hours. We have to find her."

"The first thing you need to do is make some calls," Stuart said as Elaine came rushing in, looking as upset as Holden. "Call anyone and everyone who might have seen Holly Jo since she left the house this morning. Neighbors, friends, family. Then I'm going to need a recent photo of her as well as her birth date, height, weight and a description of her and what she was wearing this morning when she left for school."

"I can write down that information as well as provide a photo," Elaine said, no doubt seeing that Holden apparently couldn't recall how his ward was dressed this morning, let alone other particulars.

"It appears from the note that she was kidnapped," Stuart said. "Once we get the alleged kidnapper's demands, we'll have a better idea of what we're up against. In the meantime, I need to search her room."

Elaine pointed him in the right direction, up the stairs and down the hallway. There was a Keep Out! sign taped to the door, the letters in black marker. Holly Jo had added a corral, mountains and a horse in the background.

The sheriff stared at the sign for a moment before he opened the door, thinking about the girl who'd lost her mother and had been uprooted and brought here to live with strangers, here being in the middle of nowhere.

The room had been styled in pinks, which stood in direct contrast to the posters of horses, trick riders and rodeo cowgirls on the walls. A typical girl's room in rural Montana. The muddy cowboy boots accompanied by a pair of dirty jeans and a shirt near the door told the same story. This pink bedroom was at odds with the cowgirl who lived in it. Which explained the trip to Billings that Elaine said Holly Jo had been looking forward to.

He spotted the laptop computer on the desk but went to the closet instead. In one corner was an assortment of stuffed animals crowded into the dark, clearly exiled. Other than clothing, some hanging, some tossed on the floor, he saw nothing of interest.

But as he turned, he spotted a single tiny stuffed duck lying next to the pillow on the seemingly hurriedly made bed. He moved to it, picking it up as if it was made of glass. He studied the only plush toy that hadn't been relegated to the closet. The duck had a worn look, as if it had been handled a lot. A favorite? He pulled out an evidence bag and popped the palm-sized duck inside before pocketing it.

The computer required a password. He searched the desk but found nothing useful. As he looked around the room, doubt began to cloud everything. What he did over the next few hours could mean life or death for Holly Jo. So much was riding on him finding her quickly and returning her safely to her family—and bringing her kidnapper to justice. He had to do everything by the book and not make any mistakes while keeping Holden reined in.

It seemed an impossible task. He found himself going over the procedures he'd learned at the law enforcement academy for kidnapping cases, hoping there was nothing he was forgetting as he returned downstairs. Elaine looked even more distraught.

"Her friends haven't seen her?" he guessed.

She shook her head, clearly close to tears. "I just texted you her photo and the information you asked for. She doesn't have a lot of friends. But I talked to Pickett Hanson. He's been teaching Holly Jo riding tricks. No one down at the stables has seen her, and her horse isn't missing. I haven't found anyone who's been in touch with her. I don't know who else to call."

He nodded, impressed that she'd thought to check the stables. He turned expectantly to Holden, who'd gotten a call and had just now disconnected. "You talked to Cooper, Treyton and Bailey?"

"I spoke with Cooper. Couldn't reach either Bailey or Treyton, but I left a message for them to call. Cooper hasn't seen Holly Jo. He's out working on his new house. He wanted to come in, but I asked him not to. Instead, he's going to join our ranch hands to search our property for her."

"Is this birth date correct?" Stuart asked after perusing the information Elaine had given him. "Holly Jo's now thirteen?"

"Her birthday was a couple of weeks ago," Elaine said. "Does her age matter?"

"The FBI gets involved even if it isn't an interstate kidnapping for children twelve and under," the sheriff said. "They call it the Tender Years."

"Still, you can call them in to help, right?" Holden asked.

Stuart nodded. He didn't want to jump the gun. But there was no reason not to give the FBI a heads-up—just in case this was real. He made the call to notify the FBI and provide what information he had. If this turned out to be a real kidnapping, he would need the use of the FBI lab for what evidence he collected.

When he got off the call, he told Holden and Elaine, "The FBI will monitor the situation, and we'll be able to use their lab facilities. I'll get the note to their lab for possible prints." He sighed. "This will mean opening up everything in all of your lives."

"I don't give a damn," Holden said. "Just get Holly Jo back."

"I'm going to have any mail coming for you intercepted," Stuart told him. "I'll have a deputy watching your mailbox on the county road since that's how the note was delivered. We need to talk about how to handle any phone calls from the kidnapper. The FBI will monitor the landline. They'll try to trace the calls. I'll tell you what to say." He met Holden's gaze. "It's important not to lose your temper. We have to remain calm and do whatever the kidnapper asks. Once we get Holly Jo back—"

"The gloves come off," Holden said.

The sheriff didn't respond to that, knowing how hard it was going to be to keep the rancher from going rogue. Spotting the pile of mail sitting unopened on Holden's desk, he asked, "Do you mind if I look through that?"

Holden shook his head, appearing dazed as he dropped into a chair. Elaine stood by the door, thumbing through her phone. "I don't have hardly any photos of Holly Jo where she is smiling except ones on a horse. I sent you my favorite." Her eyes filled, and she quickly put away her phone. "Can I get either of you coffee? I could make a fresh pot?" she asked, as if she needed something to do.

Stuart was almost through the pile of mail when he found a sheet of paper that had been folded into thirds. At first it looked like a flyer someone had stuck in the mailbox since there was no address on the outside, no stamp, no postmark. All that was written on the outside was Holden's name.

As he unfolded it, he saw with relief that it was also not like the other note. There were no letters cut from magazines and formed into words. Nor had the sender written anything. It took him a moment to understand what he was holding in his hand.

It appeared to be a photocopy of DNA results.

"I'd love a cup of coffee," the sheriff said as he turned to Elaine, the DNA results in his hand. The moment she hurried off to the kitchen, he turned to Holden. "I think you'd better take a look at this before she comes back."

A FTER HIS ENCOUNTER with Birdie Malone, Brand went back into the house, feeling worse than when he'd awakened. The entire incident had left him shaken. Birdie was coming after his mother—and her alleged accomplice?

While that was nothing unexpected, given that she was Dixon's daughter, what she'd said about his mother having an accomplice was. Assuming his mother really had gotten rid of her husband, Birdie was right. She couldn't have done it alone.

Dixon's body was believed to have been dumped in the largest abandoned well in the county because of his size. Brand doubted even a single man could have accomplished the feat. He hated the trail his thoughts were taking. Who would his mother have gotten to help her with the body—if she really was guilty of his murder? Who could she trust to keep her secret? He hated to think.

Looking down, he noticed his dirty feet. He pulled off his jeans and hopped back into the shower. He wasn't sure what had surprised him the most—who the young woman snooping around the ranch had turned out to be, or how easily she'd taken him down. He was a good eight inches taller and seventy pounds heavier.

He blamed the hangover and the element of surprise—both giving her the advantage. He swore that the next time they crossed paths, it would be different. He was just glad that no one had seen what had happened. He'd never live it down if his brother Ryder had seen that slender woman put him on his back in the dirt—let alone if his older brother, CJ, had been around.

Stepping out of the shower, he realized that, his ego aside, Birdie Malone was going to be a problem. She'd said that she had come here to prove that his mother had killed her father—and expose her accomplice. He doubted their encounter earlier had dissuaded her from completing her quest.

As he dressed, he debated whether or not he should tell his mother about Birdie. He assumed she was in her wing of the house, though he'd hardly seen her—and only in passing. For a while, he'd forgotten about the DNA results—and the copy he'd sent to Holden McKenna. Would Holden contact Charlotte when he got the DNA results? He wouldn't if he already knew about the pregnancy. Brand frowned. His father did know, didn't he? How could he not?

He realized that even if Holden did tell Charlotte about the DNA results being sent to him, that didn't mean she would say anything. Brand was sure she would happily keep on pretending his conception with Holden had never happened—just as they had obviously done for years.

He'd never been impulsive and he regretted his recent impetuous behavior, as he told himself nothing would come of it. He had bigger things to worry about. Birdie Malone had followed him home last night. She'd also had the audacity to come into their house and sleep in one of their bedrooms.

He had a feeling that Birdie Malone was a loose cannon. Who knew what she would do next?

He decided that the best thing he could do was avoid her. Just give her a wide berth if and when he ever saw her again. No more drinking in town. He would just stay on the ranch, work and put all of this behind him.

Unfortunately, he reminded himself, he was also avoiding his mother. He had no idea what he wanted to say to her—if anything. But by now, she could have heard about the DNA results.

That was enough to convince him to leave the house. Wouldn't hurt to go into town and have some lunch. Wasn't the café having the pulled pork sandwich special today? He realized that Birdie was probably staying in town, maybe at the hotel. Maybe she'd rented a place, intending to stay as long as it took to find her father's killer.

Powder Crossing was so small, he was bound to run into her. He tried to scoff at the idea that Birdie could find evidence after all this time that would implicate his mother—let alone the person who'd helped her—if she was indeed guilty. While certainly capable of murder, Charlotte Stafford might be innocent. Brand had to believe that—even if no one else did.

Even though he'd just met the young woman, he was pretty sure that nothing could convince Birdie Malone she was wrong about his mother. Not that he had any intention of trying. It wasn't like she'd found any proof that his mother was a killer, right?

At least not yet, he thought with a groan.

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Both the DNA fiasco and Birdie Malone's threats would blow over. In the meantime, he would keep his head down and hope for the best.

It had been the way he'd survived growing up in this family. No reason to change now—even if he could.

"W HAT IS IT ?" Holden demanded, clearly having the same trouble Stuart had understanding what was printed on the sheet of paper—at first.

"It's DNA results," Stuart said as he watched the rancher frown.

"I don't understand."

"It appears to be the DNA results for Brand Stafford and your son Cooper. Brand and Cooper share the same DNA."

Holden's eyes widened.

"Brand's my son? That's what this DNA report says?" Holden asked.

"It would indicate that, yes."

A variety of emotions swept across the rancher's face. Confusion. Shock. Disappointment. And finally, disbelief followed quickly by anger.

"It's not possible." But even as Holden said it, Stuart saw realization dawn before the rancher swore.

"You didn't know," the sheriff said, stating the obvious. "I have to ask. Do you think this could have something to do with Holly Jo?"

The rancher looked up and frowned. "What? I can't see how one has anything to do with the other."

Neither could Stuart. But the timing bothered him.

The rancher threw down the report. "She never told me. Why would Charlotte keep something like this from me?" He looked up. "How could I have not known?"

The sheriff's cell phone rang. It was his office. Thinking it might be about Holly Jo, he took the call as Elaine returned with coffee for the two of them. He saw Holden pick up the DNA results again, fold the sheet and stuff the paper into his shirt pocket before accepting the cup of coffee. Elaine appeared to have sensed the tension in the room. She was studying Holden, looking even more worried.

Stuart watched the two of them as he listened to the dispatcher informing him that Joe Gardner was calling about a disturbance at his house on the Montgomery Ranch. He started to tell her to let a deputy handle it, when she mentioned it had something to do with Holly Jo and Duffy McKenna.

"Duffy?" Stuart said, making Holden look up expectantly. "That was Duffy I saw leaving on my way in, right?" he asked the rancher. All the McKenna offspring resembled each other, taking after their father.

The rancher nodded. "Duffy said some boy was giving Holly Jo a hard time at school. Gus Gardner."

"Put Joe through," the sheriff told the dispatcher. "Joe, what seems to be the problem?" he asked as he stepped out of the room. He listened for a few minutes, then said, "Put Duffy on the phone, please."

An obviously angry Duffy McKenna came on the line. "Listen to me," Stuart said, reminded of all the times Cooper's kid brother had tagged along, just being a pain in their asses. "You apologize and get the hell out of there before I have to arrest you for interfering in this investigation." Duffy started to argue. "Duffy, damn it, you have no idea what you're doing. We need you back here at the ranch. Now."

He disconnected and went back into Holden's office. "Duffy's on his way home. I'll talk to him. If there appears to be some connection to Holly Jo's abduction, I'll talk to Joe's son."