Stockyard Snatching. Barb Han

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Stockyard Snatching - Barb Han


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nodded.

      “How well do you know your employees?” he asked, ignoring the most probable reason Allen’s attraction grated on him so much. Dallas liked her, too.

      “Some more than others, I guess.” She shrugged. “We’re a small office, so we talk.”

      The baby finished his bottle and she placed a cloth napkin over her shoulder before laying him across it and patting his back.

      “What does that do?” Dallas’s curiosity about babies was getting the best of him. His stress was also growing with every passing day that Morton didn’t return his texts.

      “Gets the gas out of his stomach. Believe me, you want it out. If you don’t he can cramp up and become miserable.” She frowned.

      “And when he’s miserable, you’re miserable.”

      “Exactly,” she said, her tone wistful. A tear escaped, rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away and quickly apologized. “This whole parenting thing has been much harder than I expected.”

      “Whoever did this to you and left should be castrated,” Dallas said. And he figured he was a hypocrite with that coming out of his mouth, given that he might have done the same to another woman. However, he had very strong feelings about the kind of man who didn’t mind making a baby, but couldn’t be bothered to stick around to be a father to the child. The operative word in his situation was that he might have unwittingly done that to someone. And he had no proof that Susan had actually been pregnant with his child, given that she’d disappeared when he’d offered to bring up the baby separately, instead of agreeing to her suggestion that they immediately marry. Her call had come out of the blue, months after they’d parted ways.

      His gaze didn’t budge from Kate. He expected some kind of reaction from her. All he saw was genuine embarrassment.

      “Oh, I have no one to blame. I did it to myself,” she said.

      “I may not be an expert on babies, but I do know how they’re made. And I’m fairly certain there has to be a partner.” It was Dallas’s turn to shoot her a confused look.

      “Adoption,” she said.

      He gave her another.

      “Surely you’ve heard of adopting a baby?” she asked tartly.

      “Of course I have. I just didn’t know that was your circumstance,” he said stupidly.

      Looking closer at the baby, Dallas couldn’t help but notice the boy had dark curly hair.

      Not unlike his own.

       Chapter Three

      Kate recognized the sheriff as soon as he stepped inside his office. Not only had she seen him around town, he’d stopped by the kitchen to welcome her when she’d first opened her doors.

      He was close to Dallas O’Brien’s height, so at least six feet tall. His hair was light brown and his eyes matched the shade almost perfectly.

      She was relieved for the interruption, after sharing the news about Jackson being adopted, and especially after Dallas’s reaction, which made no sense to her. He seemed fine with her being a single parent, but lost his ability to speak once she’d mentioned the adoption. What was up with that?

      The sheriff acknowledged Dallas first and then offered a handshake to Kate.

      Dallas relayed the morning’s events succinctly and Kate’s heart squeezed at hearing the words, knowing how close she’d been to losing her son. She reminded herself that she had Dallas to thank for thwarting the kidnapping attempt.

      If he hadn’t been there...

      She shivered, deflecting the chill gripping her spine.

      “Most kidnappings involve family. Sounds like that isn’t the case here,” the sheriff said. “We can’t rule out the birth parents. What’s your relationship with them?”

      “None,” Kate responded. She hadn’t thought about the possibility that Jackson’s biological parents could’ve changed their minds. “The adoption was closed, records sealed, based on the mother’s request.”

      “I’ll make contact with the agency to see if I can get any additional information from them. I wouldn’t count on it without a court order, though,” Tommy warned. “What’s the name?”

      “Safe Haven,” she stated.

      Tommy nodded. “Good. I know who they are.”

      Kate held tighter to Jackson. Could the kidnapper have been the birth father? If an investigation was opened, could the birth mother change her mind and take her son away?

      “Can you give a description of the man from this morning?” Tommy asked.

      “Everything happened so fast. All I can remember is that he was wearing a hoodie and a high turtleneck. He was medium height and had these beady dark eyes against olive skin. It didn’t look like he’d shaved in a few days. That’s about all I can remember,” she said.

      “It’s a start,” Tommy said, and his words were reassuring.

      He turned to Dallas with that same questioning look.

      “He was young and I didn’t recognize his voice, so I don’t think he’s from around here,” Dallas added.

      “Is it possible that he’s the father? If he’s not local, then maybe he just found out about the baby and tracked us down,” Kate said, fear racing through her at the thought.

      “We can’t rule it out, but that’s just one of many possibilities,” Tommy said. “What about your neighbors on Main? I heard some of them weren’t too thrilled when you moved in.”

      “That’s the truth,” she said.

      “Someone might have tried to scare you enough to get you to close shop and leave town. That’s a best-case scenario, as far as I’m concerned, because it would mean they never intended to hurt you or the baby. I need a list of names of family, friends, anyone who you’ve had a disagreement with, and your employees.”

      The last part caught her off guard. Employees?

      That had been Dallas’s first suspicion, too.

      “Sheriff Johnson, you don’t seriously think one of my people could be involved, do you?” she asked, not able to fathom the possibility that one of her own could’ve turned on her.

      “Please, call me Tommy,” he said. “And I have to search for all possible connections to the guy we’re looking for. You’d be surprised what you find out about the people you think you know best.”

      In his line of work, she could only imagine how true that statement was. How horrible that anyone she trusted might’ve been involved.

      No, it had to be a stranger.

      “I have received threats from some of my business neighbors,” she said.

      “Tell me more about those,” Tommy said, leaning forward.

      “A few of the other tenants got together to file a complaint with my landlord. They said they didn’t think Main was the appropriate place for a soup kitchen,” she explained.

      “And what was his response?” Tommy asked.

      “He didn’t do anything. Said as long as my rent was paid on time and I wasn’t doing anything illegal, it wasn’t anyone else’s concern,” she said.

      “I’ll send one of my deputies to canvass the other tenants and see what he can find out. We’ll cover all bases with our investigation.” Tommy glanced up from his pad. “How long ago did they make the complaint?”

      “Right after we first moved in, so about six months ago,” she said.

      “Anyone


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