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None of it made any sense, but his gut was screaming at him that there was something wrong with this picture.
He lost track of Williams’s charcoal gray sedan, but then found it again a few miles later. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he tried to increase his speed in an attempt not to lose him.
The blue interstate sign caught his attention. Garth lifted his eyes in surprise. Apparently, Williams was leaving Clark County, heading back to Detroit.
Except, he wasn’t. Garth’s pulse kicked up a notch when Williams took the westbound ramp off the interstate, not the eastbound one. The westbound would take him through Indiana toward Chicago, not Detroit.
Weird. Maybe the guy was some sort of salesman and had more business to do. On a Saturday? Possibly. Or maybe he had an appointment lined up in the Chicago area for Monday? Could be the guy wasn’t headed to Chicago at all, but somewhere else entirely. Garth followed Williams onto the freeway for a good ten miles before he finally turned around to return to Clark County.
He should be relieved Williams was gone and not coming back. But as he drove back toward McNally Bay, he realized that this only proved that Jemma was right.
He was an idiot. A crazy man who’d pulled a gun on her guest for no good reason. His actions had forced her to refund his money, taking a bite out of her desperately needed income.
Okay, it was only one night, not an entire weekend, but still, Jemma had every right to be concerned. If Williams decided to slam her with a horrible review, other guests may choose to go elsewhere. There were other hotels and B&Bs in the area, not to mention new ways to secure travel accommodations. Airbnbs were all the rage, and people could get an entire house for dirt cheap. The prices didn’t include breakfast, but for some people that wasn’t a problem. The houses came equipped with kitchens so guests could make their own meals.
His stomach knotted as the magnitude of what he’d done sank deep. He’d been so sure Williams had been hired by Cunningham to cause harm to Jemma and Trey. But he’d been wrong.
In fact, Garth had been the one to hurt them.
He returned to his apartment to kill more time before he needed to shower and dress for his shift. He managed to get two hours of sleep, but that only ended up making him feel groggy rather than refreshed.
Drinking a large mug of coffee helped. He reported in to work, sipping another mug of coffee as he listened to the update provided by the previous shift, summarizing the events that had gone down during the day.
“We broke up a party on the lakefront near shift change,” one of the deputies said. “I’d recommend swinging by again because it’s a Saturday night and they could easily go back to the same spot, or a different one.”
Garth nodded, knowing that was exactly what a group of bored teenagers might do. “Anything else?”
“There’s a suspected meth lab not far from the Pine Cone Campsite.” The deputy shrugged. “We’ve been trying to catch someone in the act to give us a reason to bust in there, but so far, they’ve been keeping a low profile. I’d swing by every couple of hours, keep them on their toes.”
“Any idea who owns the place?” Garth asked.
“A guy out of Chicago, Kevin Worth.”
The name meant nothing to Garth, and judging by the blank looks on some of the other deputies’ faces, he could tell they didn’t recognize it either. Unfortunately, illegal drugs were everywhere, even in quaint small towns like McNally Bay.
“The rest of our calls were related to petty crime and the occasional drunk and disorderly, nothing serious. But you get the privilege of being on during a Saturday night bar closing.” The deputy smirked. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Garth was no stranger to working third shift on Friday or Saturday nights. Fights tended to break out between drunk patrons any time after midnight and before the bar closed at 2:00 a.m.
Between the bar fights, the meth house, and the kids trying to party on the lakefront, he hoped he’d find enough time to swing by the McNally Mansion.
Cunningham was a cop, so he’d know what a typical Saturday night was like in a small town. If he was planning to make a move, Garth firmly believed it would be sometime around bar time.
But that was okay. He planned to be ready—for anything.
After dinner, Jemma did prep work for the following day, getting banana bread batter and blueberry muffins ready so they could be easily baked first thing in the morning. When that was finished, she took stock of her inventory, making notes of what she’d need to replace before next weekend’s guests arrived.
“Trey?” She peered into the dining area for her son. “Ready for bath time?”
“Yep.” Trey abandoned his toy cars to run over to her. “I want Garf to help me.”
“Deputy Lewis,” she automatically corrected, taken aback by her son’s request. How was it possible that he’d gotten attached to Garth in such a short time? “Sorry, honey, but he’s not here. I think he might be working tonight.”
“Cause he’s a policeman!” Trey bobbed his head. “Right, Mom?”
“Right.” She forced a smile. “Give me a minute to start the water, you pick out which jammies you want to wear.”
“Pokémon,” Trey announced as they entered the master suite. He ran over to the side of the dresser that contained his clothing. “Mom! Where’s my badge?”
“I don’t know. Where did you leave it?” She plugged the tub and started the water, testing with her elbow to make sure it wasn’t too hot.
“Mom!” Trey’s voice raised in alarm. “It’s losted! I losted my police badge!”
She suppressed a sigh and returned to the bedroom. “We’ll look for it after your bath, okay?”
His lower lip trembled. “I wanna wear it to bed.”
She knelt beside her son. “Trey, if we can’t find it, I’m sure Deputy Lewis will give you another one. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Then an idea hit her. “Were you wearing it when you were playing with Goldie?”
“Maybe.” He scrunched up his face. “I don’t remember.”
“We’ll find it tomorrow. Now, time to get into the tub.”
Trey did as she told him, crisis averted for the moment. She was tempted to call Garth, to let him know that Trey might need a replacement badge, but talked herself out of it.
If she were honest, she’d admit calling him was just an excuse to hear his voice. Ridiculous at how she’d missed having him around during the day.
Better that she learn how to stand on her own two feet. Leaving Randal had been a huge step in regaining a level of independence. No sense in giving it up now.
After bath time was over, she read Trey a story, but when that was finished, he went back to whining about his missing deputy’s badge. Resigned, she placed a call to her sister. Jazz promised to look but called back fifteen minutes later, saying she hadn’t found it. Jemma began searching one last time through the B&B, but once again came up empty.
“I want my badge!” Trey cried.
“Shh,” she admonished him. “We have guests!”
Trey threw himself onto the bed, sobbing into his pillow. Jemma watched him, wondering where on earth he’d left it. The stupid badge could be anywhere, especially outside, but she wasn’t going to search for it in the darkness. Plenty of time to do that in the morning.
Trey grew more and more fussy until finally, a solid hour past his usual bedtime, he fell asleep. Jemma sat on the edge of the bed and dropped her head in her hands with a sense of relief.
Exhausted from the early start and all the drama in the middle of the night, she fell into a restless slumber. Twice she woke up to strange noises, likely from her guests moving around upstairs, but forced herself to stay in bed.
At five thirty she got up, feeling a little more refreshed than she had the day before. This was how it was supposed to be. She left Trey where he was, sound asleep, hoping he’d wake up in a better mood. Making a mental note to reach out to Garth about a replacement badge, she hurri
ed into the kitchen and went to work.
The meal preparations went smoothly, and she found herself getting into a rhythm with Jazz. As the day before, Mr. and Mrs. Perry arrived first. Jazz chatted with them, taking out two mugs of coffee along with creamer and sugar, remembering their preferences from yesterday.
“What will you have? French toast or the full Irish?” Jazz asked.
“We’re doing the full Irish today,” Mr. Perry announced. “Although I must say, I sincerely doubt that it can top the brown bread French toast.”
“I’ll pass on your compliment to the cook,” Jazz promised. In the kitchen, Jemma felt her cheeks flush with pride. “I guess you’ll have to tell me which one you prefer,” Jazz continued. “Two full Irish breakfasts coming up.”
“Told you they loved your cooking,” Jazz said when she returned to the kitchen.
“Here, take the banana bread and blueberry muffins out to them.” Jemma pushed two plates toward her sister. “And maybe mention how you’re planning to get married in the gazebo this summer, too.”
“Great idea,” Jazz said. She delivered the plates of baked goods. Jemma listened to her sister, marveling at how natural she was in talking to their guests. “Please let us know if you’re really interested in the gazebo wedding package. I’m planning to get married there myself soon.”
“Really? Oh, how nice.” Mrs. Perry gushed. “I’m going to suggest this venue to my daughter, Noelle. She really wants a small wedding, and I think this setting would be perfect.”
Yes, Jemma thought, doing a mental fist pump. Granted, Noelle may have a different idea of where she wanted to get married, but the interest in the gazebo package was promising.
She continued cooking in the kitchen, this time relaxed enough that she could clean up as she went along. Jazz chatted with the guests as they arrived, taking their orders. It seemed that everyone who ordered French toast the day before went with the Irish, and vice versa. Jemma took that as a good sign, as she set up her dueling skillets.
When all the guest breakfasts had been served, she took a moment to sip her lukewarm tea. She and Jazz had determined their check-out time would be 11:00 a.m., and it was only nine forty-five now.
Little over an hour to go, she thought with satisfaction. She was pleased by how well her breakfasts seemed to have been received. What a difference it made having gotten a decent night’s sleep with no extra drama.
She picked up her phone, wondering if it was too early to call Garth about replacing Trey’s badge, then set it back down again. She’d wait until her guests had all left for the day.
With breakfast finished, she waited for their guests to check out. The Perrys left first, with the other two couples following about thirty minutes later. When they were gone, Jemma returned to the kitchen, she collapsed into a chair.
She’d done it! Survived her first weekend. Then she suddenly frowned, glancing around the kitchen.
Where was Trey?
“Honey? Are you hungry?” She entered the master suite, expecting to find him in the large bed maybe watching television, but he was nowhere to be found.
Panic squeezed her heart, and she spun around to go back into the kitchen. Jazz must have taken Trey to her place once the meals were finished. That’s what she’d done the day before. She grabbed her phone and called her sister. “You have Trey, don’t you?”
“What? No, sorry, Jemma. I thought he was with you. Why, do you need me to watch him for a bit?”
She tightened her grip on the phone. “He’s not there? Are you sure? He’s not in his room, and I don’t remember seeing him.”
“We’ll be right over,” Jazz said.
Jemma put the phone down with a shaky hand. How was it that she’d missed seeing her son? What kind of mother was she? Had he decided to go off on his own? To search for the missing badge? Or maybe to see the puppy?
Then it hit her. She didn’t remember Jazz giving her a breakfast order for Sherry Talbot either. Jemma bolted upstairs to the green room, searching for her missing guest.
The green room was empty, except for the key that was sitting on the bedside table.
No luggage. No Sherry Talbot. No Trey.
Her stomach knotted painfully as she put two and two together. Instantly, she called Garth, but his phone went straight to voice mail.
Clattering down the stairs, she dialed 911. “Clark County Sheriff’s Department, what’s your emergency?”
“My son, Trey McNally, is missing. He’s almost four years old, and the last I know he was wearing his Pokémon pajamas.”
“I’ll dispatch a deputy to your location,” the calm voice said.
Jemma lifted dead eyes as Jazz and Dalton came in through the front door. “We looked around outside but haven’t seen him. I’m so sorry, sis. What can we do?”
Jemma’s eyes filled with tears as she helplessly shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m afraid Randal has him.”
14
Garth woke up to a loud pounding on his apartment door. “Huh?” He slid out of bed and staggered across the room. Pressing one bleary eye to the peephole, he scowled. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Dalton! Come on, get moving! Trey is gone, and Jemma is a wreck. We need all the help we can get.”
The news cleared the cobwebs from his brain in one fell swoop. He yanked the door open. “Trey’s missing? When?”
“We’re not sure. But that’s not all, one of Jemma’s guests, a woman by the name of Sherry Talbot didn’t show for breakfast either. It’s possible the two incidents are related.”
The image of Sherry Talbot meeting with Dominic Williams at Daisy’s Diner flashed in his mind. “I knew there was something fishy going on with her and the other guy, Williams.”
“Come on, man. Put some pants on. We gotta go.”
Garth was already on his way to the bedroom. “I’ll send a BOLO alert for both Talbot’s and Williams’s cars. I can get every sheriff’s deputy and the authorities in neighboring counties to be on the lookout for them both. Jemma has their vehicle information, right?”
“I think so.” Dalton glanced at his watch. “One of the deputies has already been out to the B and B to take Jemma’s statement, but they’re at a loss as to where to begin searching for him. We’ve already swept the grounds of both properties and the home of the puppies. But we came up with zilch.”
Garth’s stomach clenched. How long had Trey been missing? What if Talbot had already handed the boy over to Cunningham? He yanked on his clothes and joined Dalton. “Let’s go. I’ll follow in my squad car. We may need to split up.”
Dalton’s response was to head back outside toward his car, leaving Garth to catch up.
When he pulled into the driveway of the B&B, Jemma ran out to greet him. She threw herself into his arms. “My baby. You need to help find my baby!”
“I know.” He crushed her close, wishing more than ever he’d done things different. “We’ll find him.”
“How?” She pulled out of his arms and raked her fingers through her disheveled hair. “Where?”
“Get me the car information on Talbot and Williams. I want to put out an alert.”
She didn’t hesitate and turned to go inside the house. He followed, his mind whirling with possibilities.
“Here.” She thrust the information she’d taken from her guests upon check-in. He was relieved she’d collected vehicle information, including license plate numbers.
He returned to his squad car to issue a BOLO for both vehicles, then began to work the computer. After typing in the tag number for Williams’s car, he discovered it was a rental. His hopes plummeted when he got the same results for Talbot’s vehicle.
Two rentals leading to dead ends. He should have done an in-depth vehicle investigation on Friday instead of just focusing on the people themselves. If he’d have known they were both driving rental cars, then maybe things would have played out differently.
But it was too late to change the past.
Digging into who rented the cars wasn’t easy, each company requested a warrant before releasing what they deemed private information. Garth feared that simply having suspicions about the two individuals wouldn’t be enough. And he was right. His boss, Captain Curt Vance, initially flat-out refused his request. It wasn’t until Garth explained how he’d seen the two suspects together at the diner and how the woman disappeared the same time Trey went missing that he was able to convince his captain to go for the warrant.
“I’ll send the information as soon as I have it,” Vance promised.
“Thanks.” Garth signed off, then looked up as Jemma approached. Her tear-ravaged face stabbed deep, and he hated knowing he’d failed her.
Failed Trey.
The idea of the poor kid suffering at the hands of Williams, Talbot, or worse, his father, made his blood boil and his stomach churn.
“I never should have asked you to leave.” Her voice was husky with fear. “Trey would still be here right now if I hadn’t kicked you out.”
“Don’t say that.” He slid out from the driver’s side and pulled her close. “She may have still found a way to take him.”
“No, she would never have gotten past you.” Jemma sniffled loudly. “It’s my fault. I lost track of him. Lost track of her.”
“Stop it.” His tone was forceful. “This isn’t anyone’s fault other than your ex-husband’s. I want you and Jazz to keep searching the two properties. I’m going to follow up on whatever information we can get from the two rental companies.”
“Two rental companies?” Jemma echoed in confusion.
He filled her in on how he’d seen Talbot and Williams together at the diner. “Both cars are rentals. It’s possible they were using fake IDs.”
“They were working together?” Jemma looked appalled at the idea. “That’s crazy. How could Randal make them do something like this?”
“I’m not sure. He must have something on them.” There was something off about the whole mess, and he was angry with himself for missing the clues.