She gave him a faint half smile. “I’m not a hothouse flower. Gimme that bottle.”

  In spite of himself, he nearly smiled as he passed her the bottle. She drank half of it before setting it aside.

  But now it was time to deal with the other difficulty. He repeated the question. “You said you think Chet had nothing to do with Lizzie’s disappearance?”

  “I don’t. I don’t think May did either. I listened to them, Guy. I couldn’t mistake their pain, and I believed what they both said. There’s a wrinkle, though.”

  He stiffened, expecting her to give him bad news. “What?”

  “I asked Chet to check his records for anyone who might bear a grudge. He said he would, but it wouldn’t do any good. HIPAA. He can’t reveal any personal health information under federal law.”

  “Damn it!” He drummed his fingers on the table, a moderate reaction to the surge of fresh anger he felt. Hell, he hated this case. He hated what it was doing to so many people. He hated that every twist and turn took them nowhere. He hated that a child was at risk.

  She spoke. “I feel the same. I don’t know what kind of trouble Chet might get into if he flouts that law. Federal penalties, certainly.”

  “Penalties he might not care about if he develops a strong opinion about who might be involved.”

  She drew another deep breath. “Maybe.”

  “That’s a thin thread to cling to.” He rose, pacing every inch of this tiny apartment. “There’s got to be something somewhere. I know some people disappear into thin air, but a small child? A kid who’s hardly more than an infant?”

  “Damn it, Guy, I don’t even want to think about how that could happen!”

  He stopped pacing. “I’m sorry.”

  Finally, she shook her head. “We’re cops. We’ve got to think about it.”

  Horror filled him when she spoke the dreaded words.

  “Does this county have any cadaver dogs?”

  Chapter Nine

  “No,” he answered heavily. “No. Some trackers but not that. And the K-9s couldn’t even pick up a scent around the house.”

  Tears began to pour down Valerie’s face. “We’ve got to.”

  “I’ll find one. Some department in this state must have one. Or maybe more. But are you sure you want to do this? It’s basically giving up hope.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” She jumped up, hugging herself, her tears growing more copious. “But there has to be a resolution of some kind. This can’t go on forever!”

  That she would even think of a cadaver dog told him how deeply she had sunk into the horror of this situation. Almost beyond rescue. Or maybe far beyond it unless they found Lizzie alive.

  She turned toward him, and without thinking about it, he wrapped her in his arms again, wishing he could be a bulwark rather than merely a companion as she walked through this fire.

  He had no words to offer, no clues to help the situation, nothing but a pair of arms to let her know he cared, that he was there for her. Other than that, he was totally useless.

  He’d solved many cases over his career, but never had he wanted more to solve one. To bring relief to Valerie and her family. Helpless, he offered all that he could.

  * * *

  WITHIN GUY’S EMBRACE, Valerie felt herself softening. The tightly coiled spring inside her eased, letting her go until she relaxed deep within.

  But she felt ashamed and humiliated by her uncharacteristic reaction, by revealing herself as weak and worn out. She’d had some tough times as a cop; she carried hideous memories that often disturbed her sleep until they faded into an ugly background. But never before had she broken down.

  She didn’t break down. Never had. Yet here she was, clinging to a man as if he were a lifeline. She disgusted herself.

  Yet she couldn’t move away. She’d found a haven and didn’t want to leave it. When he loosened his hug just a bit, a sense of panic filled her, but then in his gentler embrace he began to rub his hands over her back. Soothing her. Calming her even more.

  “Like a horse,” she said suddenly, her voice raw.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re soothing me like a horse.”

  A snort escaped him. “Cripes, Valerie, I’ve never hugged a horse in my life.”

  She tilted her head in order to see his chiseled face. “Are you sure?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I’m sure. And I’ve been around plenty of horses. Damn, Valerie, you don’t remind me of a horse at all.”

  “I hope not.” Then she forced herself to back away, dashing away those embarrassing tears on the sleeve of her sweater. As soon as she did, the pain started to return. She could get through this, though. On her own two feet, not his. She had to or she’d lose her sense of self, her confidence in her ability to take it all on the chin.

  With each step she took away from him she felt as if she were ripping her skin off, returning to the raw nerve ending she seemed to have become. She resumed her seat at the rickety table.

  “Sorry about that,” she managed to say. But she wasn’t, not really. A part of her, disgusting as it was, had found a few minutes of calm in the hurricane of horror that buffeted her. Had, perhaps, given her a clearer mind.

  Guy stared at her for a couple of minutes, then went to the wall phone to punch in a number. “Gage? Sorry to disturb your evening, but Valerie and I want you to find a cadaver dog. Maybe a team of them.”

  Once again Valerie tightened like a coiled spring. All of it was back, cloaking her like wet, dead leaves.

  “Yeah. Thanks.” Guy hung up. “Gage knows of a private group. He’ll get them.”

  She whispered, “I can’t believe I asked for that.”

  “You walk down every avenue you have on a case. You know that. So we’ll walk down this road and God willing these dogs won’t find any more than the K-9s did.” He sat across from her, studying her as if waiting for another emotional outburst.

  She wouldn’t give it to him. Wouldn’t feel guilty about another one. With difficulty, she forced herself back to her detective self.

  “I can’t believe the K-9s didn’t find anything at all.”

  “Me neither. You’d have expected them to catch Lizzie’s scent outside the house. Or the scent of someone else who’d been in her bedroom with her. Nothing.”

  “How is that possible?” But she knew it was possible. And that was the only reason she’d asked for a cadaver dog.

  She jumped up, pacing as Guy had such a short while ago, although she felt as if she’d climbed ten mountains inside herself since then. Now she simply couldn’t hold still.

  “My sister,” she said. “My former brother-in-law. Will I ever be able to see them the same way again? All this suspicion. It stains things forever. May sure won’t see me the same way again. Ever.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  She turned on him, feeling her face twist. “Really? The minute those cadaver dogs show up, she’s going to know exactly what we’ve been thinking about. She’s going to know. Our relationship will never recover.”

  “If she gets closure...”

  “That’s an overused pop psychology word. Closure? How can there be any real closure to something that will cause you pain for the rest of your life? Knowing isn’t really enough. Like in a book, it’s the hook at the end of a chapter to pull you forward. But it doesn’t pull you out of the story. You don’t get any closure to the book until you read the last sentence. Until you finish your life.”

  Guy shook his head. “That’s bleak.”

  “It’s also true. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Clearly he couldn’t. His usually impassive face revealed little, but she could still sense hidden emotions playing across it. She just couldn’t read him. That could get frustrating, she realized. It was frustrating right now.

  Wrapping her arms around herself again, she resumed pacing. “The hours are passing. The precious forty-eight are gone.”

  “If it’s a kidnapping there might be more hours.”

  “So where’s the ransom note, Guy? Where is it?”

  * * *

  THAT BOTHERED GUY, TOO. There had to be a motive for Lizzie’s kidnapping, if that’s what it was. So why no note? Why silence?

  The first thoughts that occurred to him were so despicable he refused to entertain them. “Maybe somebody just wants a baby.”

  She froze midstride, then faced him again. “It’s happened,” she said hoarsely.

  “That’s why hospitals have such stringent security precautions these days.”

  She sat with a thud. “You’re right.”

  But how did they trace that one? “We should start searching for someone who suddenly has a child Lizzie’s age.”

  “Maybe so,” she answered. “But how? A little kid could be explained away as a niece who’d come to visit. Or as a child from a previous marriage. Or the kidnapper could live in a place isolated enough that no one would see.”

  “It won’t hurt to send out a bulletin. Maybe the Amber Alert isn’t enough. Maybe it needs refreshing.”

  Valerie nodded, hope pricking the agony in her heart. Just a little prick she didn’t dare nourish.

  Guy continued. “This kidnapper would have to eventually buy something for a kid that age. A toy. Most likely clothes. This kind of kidnapper wants to treat a child as his or her own.”

  “Wants to enjoy parenthood,” Valerie agreed. “That might be enough, but how long will it take?”

  “Conard County isn’t the only place in Wyoming with a grapevine. I don’t know how long it might take, but sooner or later someone is going to notice something. Maybe as a result of the Amber Alert. Or maybe just because they find it suspicious.”

  She began to rub her upper arms and Guy asked, “You getting chilled? I can turn up the heat.”

  Valerie shook her head. “I’m a wreck, that’s all. Self-comfort, I guess.” She dropped her hands.

  Not knowing where else to take this, he asked, “Want some fresh coffee? Or a bed? You can have mine. I can sleep in the recliner.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep again. I should go back to May, but I’m still not ready. After the way I questioned her, I don’t think she’ll be happy with me. Regardless, the state I’m in, I’m not sure I could be supportive enough.”

  But then she rose.

  “Enough. She’s probably sitting there all alone. I can’t leave her that way just because I’m having a crisis.”

  Guy rose, too. “I’ll take you.”

  And maybe he’d go inside with her. Handle the tough questions May was bound to ask. Spare Valerie as much as he could.

  He’d expected this partnership to be a whole lot different. Instead her grief was welding them into a tight team.

  A White woman. Damn it all to hell! Hadn’t he learned?

  * * *

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED at May’s house, Sheriff Gage Dalton was limping toward the front door. He paused as Guy and Valerie pulled up.

  He greeted them with a short nod. “Anything?”

  “Ideas,” Guy answered. “Nothing we want to discuss in front of May unless it appears it might help her. I’ll let Valerie be the judge of that. Otherwise, we’ll tell you later.”

  Gage looked at the house. “I don’t like what’s happening in there. That poor woman. That poor child. Lizzie’s old enough to be terrified out of her mind. Just let me get my hands on the perp.”

  “And you’ll arrest him,” Valerie said. “Or her. Another wrecked life won’t help anything.”

  Gage gave her his half smile. “At least one of us has a clear head.”

  “Not really,” Valerie said. “Hearing you say it, well, I feel the same so I can hand you the advice. And remind myself.”

  Valerie opened the door for them. No knock. May wasn’t in sight.

  “May?” she called, her heart starting to race. She hoped May hadn’t done something stupid.

  But then May appeared from the bedroom area. She looked haggard. “I was just sitting in Lizzie’s room.” In her hand she held a small blanket. “It’s all I have left.”

  Valerie hurried to her and hugged her tightly. “We’re working on it, I swear.”

  “Yeah,” May said wearily. She pulled away and dropped onto the couch, holding the blanket to her face. “I can still smell her. But it’s not enough!”

  “Of course not,” Valerie answered, sitting beside her.

  May looked past her at Guy and Gage, speaking on a rising note. “Both of you? Bad news?”

  “No news,” Valerie answered swiftly. “Not yet.”

  “But when? Oh, God, when?”

  “We’ve got some leads,” Guy answered. “We’re working on them.” He took a chair facing her and after a brief hesitation Gage took the other.

  “I may need help getting out of this chair,” he remarked absently. Then he turned his attention to May. “We’re calling in some extra dogs. Maybe that will help.”

  Valerie was grateful for the way he phrased it.

  “Help how?” May demanded. “Do you know how long she’s been out there?”

  “We do,” Guy answered gently.

  “Then she’s dead! Dead! I can’t believe that. I won’t believe that!”

  “That’s not what we’re saying,” Valerie interjected quickly. “Extra dogs might pick up a scent where the others failed.”

  May’s eyes had grown watery again, but tears didn’t fall. She probably didn’t have a tear left to shed, Valerie thought. “We’re thinking it might be a kidnapping.”

  May’s head jerked. “Your questions weren’t about that. I listened.”

  “Then maybe you didn’t hear me quite the right way. I can’t promise that’s what happened, but we’re seriously thinking about it, okay?”

  May nodded stiffly and looked at the blanket she was holding so tightly. “Lizzie,” she murmured. “Who would steal her? Why?”

  Well, those were precisely the right questions, Val thought miserably. Questions without answers like everything else in this disappearance.

  Gage spoke. “May, we’ve got everyone working on this. And not just in Conard County. Everyone wants to find Lizzie. Everyone.”

  May sighed and sagged, letting her head fall against the back of the sofa. She continued to clutch Lizzie’s blanket. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. God help me, I can’t stand this.”

  * * *

  WITH LITTLE MORE to offer, Valerie followed Gage and Guy out the door.

  “Well?” Gage asked. “And cadaver dogs?”

  “I thought of it,” Valerie said, not wanting Guy to take any heat about it.

  “You did.” Gage studied her carefully. “Why?”

  “Because it needs to be done. I’m still a cop, much as this mess is tearing me apart.”

  Gage nodded. “I agree, although I didn’t want to say so to you. I contacted a couple of teams and they should be here tomorrow.”

  Valerie couldn’t bring herself to answer. She was having enough trouble dealing with what this might mean.

  Guy spoke. “Valerie talked to May and Chet again today. I reinterviewed everyone we’d already spoken to. No dice.”

  Gage sighed and rubbed his chin. “May and Chet?”

  “They didn’t do it,” Valerie said with conviction. “Neither one of them is playacting. Chet said he’d go back through his medical files to see if there’s anyone who might bear a grudge against him, not that it will help. He can’t reveal any information. HIPAA.”

  Gage swore. “Another dead end. I’ll have to see if we can’t get a warrant to look at any files he considers possibilities, or even just get names.” He paused. “I’d be damned surprised if we can’t get a warrant to review the files. Okay, that’s next on my list.”

  Valerie felt a tide of relief. More possible leads. At this point she’d settle for just one.

  “Thank you, Gage.”

  “I wish I could say it was my pleasure but nothing about this is a pleasure. Catch up on your rest, both of you. You’re going to need clear heads tomorrow. I hope we’re not all destroyed when those dogs start searching. I can’t bear the thought that Lizzie isn’t still alive and I don’t care how far or how long this takes.” He looked at Valerie. “That’s a promise.”

  After Gage left, Valerie turned to Guy. “You know I can’t possibly begin to thank you.”

  “No need. My job.”

  “It’s more than that and you know it.” She looked down. “It’s not normal for me to break down.”

  “It’s not normal that you’re investigating a case involving your niece and your sister. Take it easy on yourself.”

  She managed a small smile for him. “Still, I’m grateful.”

  They said good-night and Val walked back into the house, into the hurricane of her sister’s grief and the storm of her own anguish.

  * * *

  FAR OUT ON a ranch, Etta Margolis looked at another envelope from her ex, Phillip. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? He’d sure left her alone in the aftermath of the stillbirth of their child. His ranting, his anger, most of it had been directed at her because it had to be someone’s fault.

  She knew from listening to her doctor, Chet Chamberlain, that often there was no explanation. Nature made mistakes. Not the mother, not the doctor. Things went wrong with babies at any time during their development. Their son had been one of those mistakes.

  But Phillip had been impossible, making her sorrow all the greater with his accusations, refusing to believe that her grief mattered compared to his fury.

  She’d almost thrown the envelope in the trash like the first one, but the arrival of a second letter troubled her. They hadn’t passed a word in all this time. The letters were so out of character for him that a smidgeon of curiosity awoke in her.