She seemed surprised by the question. The sheriff saw her start to say no, then change her mind. “I did see something. Tell me who’s missing.”
Stuart knew that there was no keeping a lid on this. Also, as strange as it seemed, Birdie Malone might be the key to finding Holly Jo. He had to take the chance. “Holly Jo Robinson, a thirteen-year-old ward of Holden McKenna’s, was last seen headed for the county road to the bus for a half day at school. But when the bus driver got to her pickup spot, she wasn’t there. We have reason to believe that she’s been kidnapped. Do you know anything about that?”
Birdie sat back, clearly surprised. “You asked about the mailbox. I saw another vehicle ahead of Brand’s friends. A vehicle stopped at that mailbox before Brand Stafford’s pickup reached it. I’d pulled off on the top of the hill to let the two pickups get a little ahead of me. I knew where they were headed, so I didn’t need to follow so closely.”
“Another vehicle? Can you describe it?”
“I wouldn’t have been able to, except that I saw it again later. It was a light-colored pickup, probably white, with a small, darker-colored camper on the back, maybe a burgundy red? I didn’t think much about it when the driver made a quick stop at the McKenna mailbox and took off fast. Then I saw the rig as I turned in to the Stafford Ranch. The moon was full. The pickup and camper had pulled off the road in a wide spot next to the river and cottonwoods just past the Stafford Ranch turnoff.”
“License plate?”
She shook her head. “Too far away. I wouldn’t even have noticed it except that it was two thirty in the morning. At the time, I thought it was someone looking for a place to camp.” Her keen gaze narrowed again. “I didn’t even think it was strange that they stopped to put something in the mailbox. But now that I know about the kidnapping... They left the ransom note in the mailbox, didn’t they? What did Brand drop off?”
“You’d have to ask him. Can you think of anything else about the pickup and camper that might help us find it?”
“I’m sorry, but if I see it again, I think I’ll recognize it.”
BRAND HAD EXPECTED to see his mother, but only the family lawyer came into the cell block. “What’s going on?” he demanded of Ian Drake, who shook his head and motioned him over to the bars, even though the other two cells were empty. It was just the two of them.
“Tell me about what happened at the café,” Ian said.
“It was silly. I asked why I was being hauled in for questioning, and the deputy started grabbing me.” He groaned. “The next thing I knew, I was in cuffs, and Deputy Dodson was telling me he was arresting me for resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law.”
“Those charges won’t hold,” the lawyer said.
“So why am I still here?”
“Holly Jo Robinson, the ward of Holden McKenna, is believed to have been kidnapped. They think you might know something about it.”
“What?” Brand cried. “Why would I? I don’t even know her. On my mother’s life, I swear I didn’t do anything.”
The lawyer chuckled. “That would be more convincing if I didn’t know your mother.” He unfolded a sheet of paper. “Your mother gave me this. Did you send this to Holden McKenna?” Drake pushed the sheet of paper between the bars.
Brand saw at once that it was a copy of the DNA results that he’d left in his father’s mailbox in the wee hours of the morning. What had he hoped would happen? Certainly not this.
He rubbed a hand over his face, swearing that he was never drinking again. “What was the sheriff doing with this? And what could my DNA results have to do with this missing girl?”
“Did you send this to Holden McKenna?” the lawyer asked again.
Brand nodded even as he was grimacing inside. “I left it in his mailbox last night after the bar closed.”
“Why?”
Good question, he thought. “I’m not sure. I guess I wanted Holden to admit that he was my father,” Brand said and saw Ian’s expression. “What?”
“You wanted him to admit the truth?”
He frowned. “Maybe. I don’t know. Why? What’s going on? What does it matter?”
“From what little the sheriff shared with me, Holden has received a kidnapping demand—not for money, but for him to admit the truth. The sheriff seems to think that the truth might be about Holden’s relationship to you.”
Brand shook his head. This wasn’t happening. “No,” he said, gripping the bars as he leaned back, trying to distance himself from this. “I just wanted to notify him that I knew about him and my mother. I really wish I hadn’t done it. But I wouldn’t kidnap some girl to make him admit it.” He loosened his grip on the bars. Everything was starting to make an awful kind of sense. “The sheriff is basing his suspicion on the DNA results?” He shook his head again. “I can’t tell you how much I regret all of this.”
“If you took the girl—”
He saw that the lawyer didn’t believe him. Shocked, he said, “I swear I didn’t take her.”
“She’s missing, Brand, and hasn’t been seen since she headed for the school bus this morning. Where were you between seven and seven thirty this morning?”
“In bed with a horrible hangover. I didn’t get up until noon or so.”
“Can anyone at the house verify that?” the lawyer asked.
He thought hard, remembering how empty the house had been with the housekeeper off and his brother Ryder up early and gone to work as usual. He’d never felt so helpless in his life. All he could think about was the missing girl. He’d seen Holly Jo riding her horse a couple of times and waiting for the school bus but had never even talked to her. Who would take her? What truth did they want Holden to acknowledge? It had to be something more than him fathering a bastard son.
Brand realized what he had earlier that morning. “No one was at the house. I was alone, as far as I know.” As he said it, he thought of the young woman sneaking past his window. “There might be someone, but I didn’t see her until I got up.” Brand saw the lawyer’s concern.
“So you can’t prove that you never left the ranch all morning.” Drake sighed. “The sheriff is going to want to talk to you.” He seemed to hesitate. “But if you know where the girl is—”
“I told you I didn’t take her. I don’t know where she is. I’m not my brother. Or my—” He almost said mother.
The lawyer nodded. “I’ll be back.”
“Just a minute. You already knew that I was Holden McKenna’s biological son, didn’t you?”
“No. Why would you think I did?”
“Because you didn’t seem surprised,” Brand said.
