Page 22 of Chasing a Kidnapper

Married to his job, remember? At the time Shannon’s accusatory words had stung, but there was no denying they were also true.

Cops had a high divorce rate, his parents were proof of that. His dad had been a cop, his mom a teacher, and they’d divorced when he was eight years old. He had no intention of making the same mistake his dad had.

He rose to his feet and joined Trisha in the kitchen. The grilled cheese smelled great, and she’d made him two sandwiches to have with his tomato soup.

“I would like to say grace.” Trisha looked at him, waiting for his nod, before clasping her hands and bowing her head. “Lord Jesus, we thank You for this food we are about to eat. We ask that You please keep us all safe in Your care, especially Gabriel and the members of the task force. Amen.”

“Amen,” he echoed softly, touched by her prayer that not only included him but the entire task force. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She took a bite of her grilled cheese, then offered a spoonful of some green baby food to Gabriel. The little boy opened his mouth, then made a face. She chuckled. “He’s not a fan of vegetables.”

“At least he didn’t spit it out.” He remembered when Kenyon had given the twins their first taste of broccoli. Beacon had spit his mouthful halfway across the table.

“He’s a good eater, which is nice.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “Find anything interesting?”

“Not yet.” He hoped he wasn’t spinning his wheels going through the membership list. Yet the Glock had been left by someone. His gut told him the perp wasn’t just using the locker as a safe place to keep the illegal weapon but had used the gym locker room as a drop off/pick up location, easily passing a key from one to the other. If so, the guy who had left it and the intended recipient should both be on the list.

And if neither one of them had a criminal background? Hard to believe, since most people didn’t get an illegal weapon without knowing someone sketchy.

His phone rang just as they finished eating. Seeing ATF agent Dan Slater’s name on the screen had him answering quickly. “Hi, Dan.”

“Hey, West. Good work on finding that gun at the gym,” Dan said. “I’m sure it’s from an earlier gun shipment.”

“It was all Peanut,” he said, glancing down at the beagle curled by his feet.

“I know and I’m grateful. We’re having the gun tested for ballistics, although it looks pretty clean. I also need you and Gracie Fitzpatrick to head over to the pizzeria this afternoon,” Slater said. “I would like Peanut and Gracie’s K-9 to give the place a good sniff.”

“Okay.” He glanced at Trish, hoping she would be okay staying here alone with Gabriel. He didn’t see how the masked man could know her location. “I’ll give Gracie a call.”

“I’ve already spoken to her. She’ll meet you at the pizzeria at four o’clock. There’s generally a lull between lunch and dinner so there will be fewer people there. We’re running the employees through the system but haven’t gotten any hits.”

Just like the gym membership, he thought grimly. “Understood. I’ll be there.” He ended the call and looked up to see Trisha eyeing him curiously. “In an hour, I’ll need to leave you and Gabriel for a while. Do you want me to have an officer from the department sit outside?”

“No need.” She managed a wan smile. “I’m a cop and armed. Besides, I don’t see how the kidnapper could know where we are.”

“Yeah, okay.” He finished his lunch, trying to shake off the niggling worry. Trisha was a cop who could take care of herself. She’d proved that and more the night of the shooting.

Still, he wouldn’t relax until he was back here, where he could keep an eye on her.

And that forced him to admit that he was already beginning to care about her, more than he should.

When she finished eating and feeding Gabriel, Trisha rose to get a wet wipe. Gabriel was a messy eater, often getting food in his hair. After that, she set him back on the floor with several toys. The ice pack on her knee had helped reduce the swelling, so she tucked it back in the freezer to use again, later.

“West, while you’re gone, I’m going to use your computer to keep searching on information on Seth Blakemore.” She glanced at him as she filled the sink with sudsy water. “If you don’t mind.”

“That’s a good idea.” He pulled out a dish towel, obviously ready to dry. “Where did Bryan Little work last?”

“He had trouble holding a job,” she admitted. “His last job was at the Rocking K Ranch, which is a good sixty miles east of here heading toward Badlands National Park.”

“I’ve never heard of the Rocking K,” West admitted.

“I hadn’t, either. I looked it up. The owner is a guy named Aaron Klinger, and I found an outstanding loan for which legal action was taken. Seems to me the ranch is cash poor. Doesn’t really matter, because Bryan quit that job anyway, right after I told him I was pregnant.” She glanced at her son. “I always wondered if the reason he filed for divorce and left was because he knew he’d be a lousy father and provider.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” West murmured.

She shrugged. “We’ve all faced challenges, right? I choose to believe God has a good reason for putting me and Gabriel in this position.”

He nodded and continued drying dishes without saying anything. She wondered if West was a believer, then reminded herself that his personal life was none of her business.

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