Christmas in Texas Read online

  The baby was in hysterics, haunting Flynn. “Don’t die on me, little guy. Please don’t die.” He picked him back up and cuddled him against his shoulder, talking to him the way he used to talk to his precious Katie to comfort her.

  “There’s probably a mother down there unconscious or worse,” he told police dispatch. “I haven’t heard any other sounds, but the hell of it is, I can’t go check while the baby’s clinging to me. He’s been traumatized by what’s happened.”

  “Understood.”

  “Where’s the damn backup?”

  “They should be there any minute, Captain Patterson. Hold on.”

  Flynn had never been so torn in his life. If that were his wife down there, and no one was helping her… He had to find out.

  Hardening himself to the baby’s cries, he laid him down on his side on the front passenger seat. The vehicle’s interior was nice and warm. “I’ll only be gone a minute, buddy. I promise.”

  Leaving the baby still wailing, he grabbed his gloves and took off down the embankment again. The ghastly scene tore at his gut while he hurried around to the other side of the car. The driver’s door had flown open and he saw the body of a man dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He’d been flung several yards away and lay facedown in the snow. Another driver who hadn’t fastened his seat belt. Flynn saw no signs of anyone else.

  He hunkered down to feel the pulse in the man’s neck. He was alive and breathing, but without help, he wouldn’t last long. In case he’d broken something, Flynn didn’t dare move him. Please, God. Get that ambulance here. The baby needed his father. Heaven knew he needed his son.

  The faint sounds of the baby’s cries galvanized him into action. He spotted a diaper bag farther afield and stole over to reach inside. Sure enough, there was a bottle of ready-mix formula and a baby blanket. Leaving the rest of the accident scene untouched, he grabbed both and hurried back up to the truck.

  He brushed the snow off himself and climbed in the cab. “Here I am. I’ve got something good for you.” He opened the bottle and turned the nipple around. “Come on.” Flynn gathered the baby in his arms and put the nipple to his mouth.

  At first the baby fought him. He was a strong little thing, probably about three months old. Flynn kept at it, coaxing him until he finally gave a huge trembling sigh and started drinking the cold formula. Every so often he’d stop swallowing and cry. “I know how you feel, but you’re okay now. Come on. Be a good boy and drink some more for me.”

  After several urgings, the baby began to relax against him, bringing back memories of comforting his six-month-old girl when she’d bumped into a chair or pinched her little fingers by accident while learning to crawl. It had taken time for her to get over her frights, too.

  Babies were a miracle, so fragile in some ways, so strong in others. The poor little guy had been hanging there upside down, but somehow he’d survived.

  He heard a knock on the window and let out a hallelujah.

  “Everything all right in here?”

  “Yes, but the driver down there is barely hanging on.”

  “We’re already bringing him up. Why don’t you hand me the baby and I’ll take a look at him in the ambulance.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll carry him over.” One more upset could bring on another fit of hysterics. Flynn got out of the truck, shielding the baby, who’d drained his bottle. Except for an occasional shudder, he seemed more at peace.

  By now the police had arrived and were going over the accident scene. When everyone was ready to head into town, Flynn reluctantly handed the baby to the paramedic. That was a mistake. He started crying again. “You go on, Captain. We’ll take good care of him.”

  Flynn had to steel himself to turn his back on the boy. He followed the ambulance through the snow to the hospital E.R. in Fort Davis, not able to get there fast enough. The second he shut off the engine, he shot out of his truck and hurried inside with the officers and paramedics. One of them took the baby to the nursery. Flynn wanted to go, too, but he couldn’t. He was the first responder and had to make a report.

  The accident victim’s eyes were closed. Flynn could see the poor father had a goose egg on his temple and cuts on his hands and arms, but the paramedics had already started an IV and it appeared he would make it. The two of them had cheated death. His wife would have reason to celebrate this Christmas.

  Flynn saw Sheriff Bates, who signaled him over to the desk. “Have you heard the latest?”

  “What?”

  “A woman was found slumped in the snow outside a pump at Barton’s Convenience Mart on Pine Street earlier this evening named Andrea Sinclair. A motorist saw her and called 911. When they brought her in, she was screaming in terror that her husband had stolen her baby. She was afraid she’d never see him again.”

  Husband? This was a domestic-violence dispute? Flynn threw his head back in frustration. The number one rule in this business. Never assume anything.

  “As usual, it took one of our Texas Rangers to bring about a miracle this fast.” The sheriff kept talking. “Heard you solved the case up in Van Horn. Congratulations. You do great work, Flynn.”

  “I happened to be passing at the right moment.” The older man’s remarks were gratifying, but Flynn’s mind was on the tragedy of the situation. “I assumed he was the father.”

  “It’s a shame these things happen, and especially around the holidays. The cell phone found in the snow has water damage and isn’t working. We presume it’s his, since the woman’s purse, also lying by the pump, had a cell phone. Except for two hundred dollars cash in his back pocket, he had no ID on him.”

  “That figures,” Flynn muttered in quiet rage. When parents kidnapped their own children, they never thought about the trauma they caused.

  “The dispatcher said he was glad he hadn’t been in your shoes. He could hear the hysterics.”

  “It tore me up. I pray he’s not going to suffer any residual problems.”

  “I doubt it. You and I know babies are tough.”

  Flynn nodded. He’d seen proof of it tonight. The scene was one he’d never forget. “What else do you know so far?”

  “Her ID indicates she’s from Carlsbad, New Mexico. She’s twenty-seven. The car is registered there, too. It was bought today from the Haney dealership. One of the officers found a calendar from there in the snow.”

  His brows lifted. “Her flight came to a quick end. I need to talk to her.” The woman could be on the level. Then again, she might be involved in something ugly—like kidnapping someone else’s baby—and everything had gone wrong.

  “Go ahead, but she was hysterical and the doctor had to sedate her. When she was attacked, the wind was knocked out of her, but there were no injuries. She was wearing a wig. The officers assume it was a disguise—not because of chemo treatments. After the baby is checked out in the nursery, he’ll be reunited with his mom. That ought to bring her out of her shock enough to tell you what happened.”

  He patted Flynn’s shoulder. “Crossing state lines means you’ve got a kidnapping case to solve. I talked to Nyall. Your boss is sorry about spoiling your Christmas vacation.”

  Flynn didn’t mind. “After I check in with him, I’ll go look in on her and see if she’s ready to answer any questions.” He now had another choice besides getting blotto on Jack Daniel’s. At least for tonight.

  Chapter Two

  Andrea moved her head back and forth as she became more
aware of her surroundings. She’d lost all track of time and could hear people speaking in quiet voices. That excruciating pain was back since the drug they’d given her had worn off. She started to sob. “My baby—has anyone found my baby?”

  “We have, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  She didn’t recognize the deep male voice, but those words filled her whole being with unspeakable joy. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s right here safe and sound. See for yourself.”

  Andrea felt the hospital bed being raised. The next sight she saw was an unfamiliar man holding her baby, whom he’d just picked up from the hospital crib. Jack was wrapped in one of the blankets she’d packed in the diaper bag. The stranger handed her the bundle with infinite care.

  “Oh, my baby—” She clutched Jack to her, trying to hold back the sobs so she wouldn’t frighten him. “My little sweetheart.” She pressed kisses to his face and hands. “I can’t believe I’ve got you back.” She cuddled him close, rocking him.

  Jack found his favorite place against her neck and burrowed in. While she smoothed one hand over his little back, she looked up into a pair of the most beautiful, warm gray eyes she’d ever seen. Through his black lashes they looked suspiciously bright as the tall, hard-muscled male with dark sable hair stared down at the two of them. “He’s missed his mommy.”

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  “My name’s Flynn Patterson. I’m with the Texas Rangers.”

  She’d heard of the Rangers all her life. This one wore a Western-style shirt and cowboy boots. If anyone fitted the description of one of those legendary heroes, he did.

  “I was the one who happened to come across a car accident earlier tonight outside Fort Davis and discovered your baby locked in his car seat. It’s a good thing, too. He survived the rollover without a scratch. All he wanted was you.”

  Tears flowed down her cheeks. “Thank God you found him—” she cried emotionally. But in the next breath, fear seized her. “What about my husband? I-Is he in the hospital, too?” Her question came out jerkily.

  “Yes. The doctor says he’s suffered a concussion, but he’s going to make it.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. “I don’t want to see him. Please don’t let him come near me or the baby. I filed for divorce five months ago and we’ve been legally separated since then. But he’s been out of control and has continually ignored the restraining orders against him.”

  “Have no fear. He’s under guard on another floor. While Jack is resting comfortably against you, are you up to answering a few questions for me? I need your answers for the record.”

  “Now that you’ve found my baby, I’m up for anything! Go ahead.”

  Andrea watched him snag a chair from the side of the room with effortless male grace and sit down next to the bed with his long powerful legs extended. His wavy hair framed a face with rugged features.

  She found him attractive in an unconventional sense. There was an aura of authority about him that made her feel she could trust him. When he caught her staring at him, heat filled her cheeks and she kissed Jack’s head to cover her embarrassment.

  “What’s your husband’s name?”

  “Jerold Sinclair, but everyone calls him Jerry.”

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s a pilot for Western Skies Airlines.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Thirty-four.”

  “Does he have family?”

  “Yes. His parents and brother live in California, but he’s estranged from them.”

  “Let me have their names and addresses.”

  “All I know is he was raised in Fullerton. I don’t have any other details.”

  “I can check that out. Are you employed?”

  “Not right now.”

  He sat forward. “All right. Now tell me what led up to his kidnapping your baby. Try to remember as much as you can so you don’t have to go through this again. I’m recording our conversation through a mini device hooked to my pocket.”

  If he hadn’t told her that, she wouldn’t have had any idea. “A year and a half ago, I met Jerry while I was working in the programming department of a local television station in Carlsbad.”

  “Which one?”

  Andrea told him and gave him the name of her former boss. “I’d been there since graduating from college five years ago. Jerry and I got married three months after meeting each other, and last January I found out I was expecting.”

  She shifted Jack to her other shoulder. “I worked up until the last three months of my pregnancy, when the doctor put me on bed rest. Jerry didn’t handle that well. He wanted a wife who could play between flights. I hardly saw him.

  “One day I received a call from a man who told me Jerry had been involved with a flight attendant in Albuquerque since before our marriage and was still seeing her. He thought I ought to know. I’m sure one of the other pilots who knew what was going on got someone to call. I didn’t recognize the voice.

  “At first I didn’t want to believe it, but lying there in bed I started putting two and two together. It explained a lot of things I hadn’t been able to understand. Jerry had taken no interest in getting ready for the baby. And then I bought some things for the baby online, but my credit card was declined for insufficient funds.

  “Upon investigation I found out not only was our checking account overdrawn but he’d used up most of the money from my savings account accrued over five years of working. I was so shaken—I realized I didn’t know the man I’d trusted so completely.

  “When Jerry got home from his latest flight, I confronted him about everything. He admitted he had a gambling problem and was in financial trouble. As for the affair, he didn’t deny it, but said it was over and it hadn’t meant anything. He made all kinds of promises that he’d recoup the losses and make it all up to me.

  “That’s when I told him our marriage was over and I had filed for divorce. On the advice of my attorney, I took the little money left in my savings account and moved to a furnished apartment before the baby was born.”

  “What’s your attorney’s name and phone number?”

  “Sheila North, with Bradford and Gonzales.” Andrea gave him the number. “After the baby came, she arranged visitation through Jerry’s attorney. While I’ve been waiting for the divorce to be final, Jerry has kept coming over when it wasn’t his time to see Jack, insisting we needed to talk and get back together.

  “His harassment prompted me to get a restraining order and my attorney arranged for supervised visitation. That only enraged him. He made threats over the phone and drove over to my apartment all the time, pounding on the door in the middle of the night. He came so often, I decided he was desperate for money.

  “Two days ago I had a long talk with my attorney and she said I needed to disappear. She knew of a safe house for battered women in Alpine, Texas, where I could get help and find a job. I was so frightened of Jerry at that point, I told her I would do it, because I’ve had no living family to help me since my aunt died.

  “In order to fool him, I drove my Sentra to the car dealership yesterday, and traded it in on an older Honda. Then I drove out the back way wearing a wig I’d purchased, and I left the state.

  “It was snowing so hard I decided to stay here overnight. I stopped for gas first. While I was dealing with the nozzle, I got shoved from behind and the fall dazed me. The next thing I knew, the car with my baby in it was gone. I
realized immediately it was Jerry—” Her body trembled uncontrollably. “He’d warned me he would do something drastic to get my attention.”

  “But you didn’t actually see him?”

  “No, I didn’t have to. After what he’s put me through, I’ve feared what he’d do, but I didn’t think even he would put our baby in jeopardy. Do you imagine he thought I’d give him the little money I had left to pay a ransom to get Jack back? Obviously all my efforts to hide from him have been in vain. A kind stranger happened to see me and called the police. They brought me here. You know the rest.”

  He eyed her compassionately. “Do you recall seeing anyone else at that convenience mart?”

  She hugged her baby tighter. “No. There was no one around. Wait—I do remember that a camper pulled up to get gas at another pump. The storm was so bad by then, there were hardly any cars out.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “Do you remember the make or color?”

  Andrea bit her lip. “There was too much snow and I really wasn’t paying attention. It looked like one of those camper trucks. I’m sure it wasn’t new.”

  “That all helps. I’ll alert the police to keep an eye out for it while they’re on duty. In the meantime I’ll check with the sales person inside the mart and question the stranger who called 911. Maybe one of them will be able to shed more light.”

  “You think Jerry was driving that camper?” The mere thought sent a river of ice through her veins.

  “It’s possible. If so, he had an accomplice with him, because there was no sign of the camper when the police arrived to take care of you. What kind of car does your husband normally drive?”

  “A two-year-old black Audi.”

  The Ranger got to his feet. “Where’s your cell phone? I’ll program my number into it in case you need to phone me.”

  “It’s right here on the bedside table.” She handed it to him.

  He did it quickly and handed the phone back to her. “Now give me your number.” He whipped out his phone and programmed her number. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Sinclair. I’ll leave you alone with your baby and see you tomorrow to finish up my investigation. I trust you and Jack will be able to sleep now. Make it a long one. After your harrowing experience, you both deserve it.”