Native Cowboy (6 page)

His startled gaze swung to Mason. “You think I hurt her?”

Mason made a low sound in his throat. “I think she got pregnant, you didn’t want a child, then she had the baby and gave it away. Then what? You changed your mind?”

Alfredo’s mouth thinned into an angry line. “It true at first I not want baby.” He paced, his movements agitated. “I worry about taking care of child. Had no job back then.” He rushed to the counter and grabbed his wallet. “But last month I get good job with trucking company.” He yanked out ticket stubs and receipts, spilling them on the table. “See. I tell Nellie I take care of her and baby now, but she say it too late.”

“And that made you mad, didn’t it?” Mason said. “So you tried to force her to come back to you. What happened then?” He got in the man’s face. “Did you say no, it was over? Did she tell you that you’d never get your kid back?”

Alfredo’s face crumpled. “She did say it too late, that couple adopt our little girl.” He choked on the last word. “But I promise her I still love her and want her back.” He thumped his finger on the receipts. “See, these from my run. I leave last week, go cross country. Stop at a different motel each night. Gas up. Stay in El Paso last night. It all there.”

Cara sifted through them, then looked up at Mason. “He’s telling the truth, Mason. The receipts prove he wasn’t anywhere near town or the BBL.”

Mason sighed. Alfredo could have hired someone to kill Nellie, but judging from the genuine-looking tears on his face and the fact that he didn’t have much money, he didn’t appear to be the kind of person to pay for murder, or be able to afford it.

Not in the heinous way Nellie had been killed. And if so, why would he bury her using a Comanche ritualistic style?

“Where is she now?” Alfredo asked. “I want to see my Nellie.”

Mason exchanged a look with Cara. “She’s at the medical examiner’s office,” he said. “Does she have any other family we need to notify?”

“No,” Cara said. “Her parents were killed in an accident a couple of years ago. They were all she had.”

“Except for me,” Alfredo said in a voice that cracked. “And I let her down.”

Cara gently rubbed his shoulder. “We’ll let you know when she’s released so you can plan her funeral.”

“What about the lawyer who handled the adoption?” Mason asked. “Did you have contact with him or the adoptive parents?”

Alfredo shook his head. “No, I don’t even know who they are. Nellie didn’t want me involved.” His eyes darkened. “Why? You think they know something?”

Mason refused to admit that he was worried about the child. Of course, Alfredo had reason to go after the baby because he was the father.

But if he hadn’t killed Nellie to get the baby, who had?

Unless Nellie had changed her mind about the adoption. What if she’d decided to reconcile with Alfredo? If she’d tried to break the adoption agreement, the adoptive parents would have been upset.

Upset enough to kill her to keep the child they considered theirs?

Chapter Five

Cara’s heart ached for Alfredo. He and Nellie’s situation mirrored so many others she worked with. They had been in love but mired in poverty, the strain of an unexpected pregnancy had come between them. By the time Alfredo had realized he wanted a family, it was too late.

But Nellie had made her choice with the best intentions of her little girl in mind.

“I’m so sorry, Alfredo,” she said, then enveloped him in a hug.

He cried on her shoulder for a moment, then being a proud man, he pulled away, swiping at his tears.

“Please, Miss Cara, you will let me know when I can see my Nellie?”

“I will.”

Then he turned to Mason. “You’ll let me know who killed her?”

Mason nodded, then gestured to Cara that it was time to leave. She followed him out to the car, her heart aching for Alfredo. He had finally gotten the means to take care of the woman he loved but now he’d lost her to death.

Her baby chose that moment to kick, reminding her that her son’s father was only a few feet away, and that she’d never given him the choice of whether he wanted to be a part of their child’s life.

She’d been selfish in thinking only of her own hurt feelings. But at the time, she’d been certain he would have walked away.

Now she didn’t know.

“He appears genuinely upset,” Mason said as they settled in the car.

Cara winced as the baby pressed on her bladder. “I told you he wouldn’t kill her. He doesn’t have it in him to do what that killer did to Nellie.”

“What about the adoptive couple?” Mason asked. “You heard Alfredo say he wanted her and the baby. What if Nellie went to the couple and asked them to forfeit the adoption?”

Cara frowned. “She knew it was final when she signed the papers.”

Mason headed down the graveled road. “Maybe she did, but that doesn’t mean her emotions didn’t drive her to plead for her baby back.”

Cara’s throat tightened. “I suppose it’s possible.” In fact, sometimes mothers regretted their decision and later tried to back out of adoptions. But there was a window of time that allowed for that, and it had passed.

“The last time I saw Nellie she seemed okay with her decision,” she said. “In fact, I had convinced her to attend school and she’d signed up for cosmetology classes. She seemed excited about it.”

“We have to talk to the adoptive parents,” Mason said. “See if she contacted them.”

Cara twisted her hands in her lap. She hated to upset the couple who’d adopted the little girl, but her clinic had been broken into. And if killing Nellie had been about the baby, she needed to make sure the child was safe.

“All right, they live in San Antonio. Do you want me to call them?”

“No,” Mason said. “Like I said earlier, I want the element of surprise on our side.”

Cara jerked her head toward him. “You think one of them killed Nellie?”

Mason shrugged. “I’m just trying to eliminate the obvious suspects at this point. The baby’s real father and adoptive parents are closest to the case.”

Cara smoothed down a wrinkle in her shirt, then handed Mason the address for the Davidson family and watched him program it into his GPS. She had dreaded telling Alfredo and confronting him. She wasn’t looking forward to questioning the adoptive parents, either.

But Mason was right. Even if they hadn’t killed Nellie, they were the logical places to start.

His phone buzzed, and he punched connect so she lapsed into silence.

“Tell him I’m on my way.” Mason disconnected then swung the car back on to the main road.

“What is it?” Cara asked.

“The sheriff said his officer found something at Nellie’s apartment that he wants us to look at.”

Worry nagged at Cara as Mason raced toward the apartment complex. The building was old, the concrete units weathered, mesquites adding a touch of Texas character to the dismal surroundings. Mason noted the numbers on the building, found Nellie’s, and he and Cara walked up to the apartment together.

The door stood ajar, two officers inside. “Emery Dothan,” a young brawny officer said by way of introduction.

“What did you find?” Mason asked.

The officer gestured to the kitchen, and they followed him to a pine table where a sheet of paper lay. “It looks as if someone was threatening Nellie Thompson.”

Cara gasped as she read the note.

Do you know where your baby is?

Mason frowned at the message. “So this was about the baby?” Mason murmured.

Cara gripped the table edge. “God, Nellie must have been out of her mind with worry.”

“Did you find anything else?” Mason asked the officer.

The young man shook his head. “We checked her computer but so far nothing.”

“No chat rooms? Social media contacts? Suspicious emails?” Mason asked.

“No. Her history is limited, mostly sites about educational opportunities.”

“She was shy, not very computer savvy. But she had planned to go to cosmetology school,” Cara said. “Only she never had the chance.”

“Follow up with the lab regarding her phone,” Mason said. “If he sent this message, he may have called her, as well.”

“Copy that.”

Cara paled as she and Mason walked back to the car.

“What was the lawyer’s name who handled the adoption?” Mason asked.

Cara tucked an errant strand of her hair behind one ear and settled into her seat. “Regan Wurst.”

Mason sank into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt. “Call him and see if he’s had any inquiries about the Thompson baby.”

“Regan is a she,” she said, then slipped her phone from her purse and scrolled through her contact list. A second later, she punched in a number.

“Regan, it’s Dr. Winchester.”

Mason focused on the road as he drove toward San Antonio, but he kept one ear on Cara’s conversation.

“I’m calling regarding the Thompson adoption,” Cara said. A pause. “Nellie Thompson was murdered. I’m working with the detective to find her killer.” Another pause. “We have questioned the father, and he has an alibi.” Cara hesitated, and he heard the lawyer talking, but he couldn’t understand her exact words.

“We’re on our way to talk to the Davidson family now,” Cara said. “But my office was broken into and files rifled through, the Thompson file among them. I need to know if you’ve had any inquiries about the baby.”

“No,” he heard the woman say.

“No one has been to your office asking questions about the adoption?”

“No.”

“Okay, thanks, Regan. If anyone contacts you, please let me know.” Cara fiddled with her hair, twisting a strand around her finger.

Was she nervous about the investigation, or had she considered giving her child up for adoption?

No...Cara would never do that...would she?

“So she hasn’t had any trouble?” Mason asked as she said goodbye.

“No.” Cara laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She must be exhausted.

He should have insisted she go home and rest. Take care of herself and the baby.

But she was stubborn and wouldn’t have listened, not when she felt protective of the people involved in this case.

Her breathing slowed, and a few minutes later he realized she’d fallen asleep, so he drove in silence, passing farmland and deserted areas until he reached San Antonio. The bright lights of the city gleamed against the darkness, traffic thick as evening picked up with the dinner crowd and nightlife.

He plowed through the streets, weaving through the downtown area and turning into the newer, more exclusive complex where the Davidsons resided. Judging from the gated community entrance and the sparkling lights adorning the neighborhood, the Davidsons had money.

How much had they paid for Nellie’s baby?

And to what lengths would they go in order to keep her?

* * *

C
ARA STIRRED FROM SLEEP
as Mason parked in front of the sprawling two-story Georgian home where the Davidsons lived. She had never been to their house, but Regan had relayed that the family was wealthy and would be able to give every advantage possible to the Thompson baby.

A small comfort to Nellie when she’d handed the little girl over. But she had loved her baby enough to want her to have a happy life and a bright future.

A wave of sadness washed over Cara at the loss of the young woman.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Mason asked.

Cara nodded, reached for the door handle and pulled herself out. Mason hurried around to help her, but once again she made certain she stood on her own. She had been for months now. She couldn’t grow dependent on him now.

Lights glittered along the drive leading to the portico, houselights glowing in the windows indicating the Davidsons were home.

They were probably finishing dinner and putting the baby to bed for the night.

Mason rang the doorbell, and she tapped her foot while they waited. A moment later a housekeeper in a maid’s uniform opened the door. She introduced herself as Gloria. “Yes?”

Mason flashed his credentials and introduced both of them. “We need to speak to the Davidsons please.”

Gloria’s dark eyes flashed with concern. “Can I tell them what this is about?”

“I’d rather do that, ma’am,” Mason said matter-of-factly.

She gestured for them to follow her through an expensively decorated foyer lavish with art and vases, but they ended up in a living room that actually looked cozy and kid friendly. Although the leather furniture was obviously pricey, a baby swing, infant toys and a bouncy seat gave it a homey feel.

She took a seat in the rocking chair in the corner while Mason stood, his gaze scanning the photos of the baby girl on the mantel. The sound of Gloria’s voice and then the couple’s drifted toward her, then Julie and Don Davidson appeared in the doorway, Julie cradling the three-month-old in her arms.

“Detective?” Don extended his hand and shook Mason’s, but both he and his wife looked wary. “What’s going on?”

“Please sit down and I’ll explain,” Mason said.

Julie clutched the infant to her chest as if she expected them to rip the baby from her arms. “Is this about Lacy?” Julie asked, her tone tinged with panic.

Mason cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid it is.”

“No, you can’t take her,” Julie cried. “She’s ours, it’s all legal, we signed papers, we have rights.”

Don held up a calming hand to his wife. “Is that the reason you’re here?”

“No,” Cara said, eager to console them. She understood the constant worry adoptive parents had that they might lose their child. “That’s not the reason for our visit.”

Julie and her husband exchanged a confused look. “Then why are you here?”

“Please sit down,” Mason said.

The Davidsons huddled together on the sofa. Lacy started whimpering as if she sensed something was wrong, and Julie rocked her in her arms, soothing her with softly whispered words of love.

Nellie would have taken comfort in the way the couple loved her baby, Cara thought.

“Why are you concerned that we came to take the baby?” Mason said. “Had the mother or father asked for the child back?”

Don shook his head and Julie followed. “We haven’t heard from the mother at all. In fact, we’ve never even met. All communication was done through our attorney.”