Page 36 of Chasing a Kidnapper

“Will do. Later.” Jack ended the call.

West crossed over to the computer where he’d been digging into Renee Mills. He had been looking at her social media page when Gabriel had started to cry.

“No luck on a search warrant?” Trisha asked, coming over to stand beside him.

“Nope.”

“Her social media?” Trisha leaned closer. “That’s a great idea.”

He nodded, resisting the urge to turn and look at her. She was too close. The sweet scent of Gabriel’s baby shampoo wafted toward him. He remembered how Kenyon’s twins had smelled the same way after their bath time.

Pushing that thought aside, he scanned the list of Renee Mills’s friends. Thankfully her social media profile wasn’t secured with privacy settings. As he scrolled through the list of friends, nothing jumped out at him. He’d been hoping for a male relative of some sort.

Turning to the pictures, he quickly found one where Renee had tagged a guy by the name of Nick Cutter. Looking more closely, he couldn’t say the guy looked familiar, but he found other photos featuring Cutter, too. And in digging further, he discovered a Dale Cutter who was apparently Nick’s father. And then he also found a woman by the name of Peggy Mills, who looked old enough to be Renee’s mother.

Minimizing that page, he pulled up the circuit court database. It was the one place where divorces and other civil cases were listed.

“Trish? Check this out.” He tapped the screen, feeling a surge of excitement. “There’s a divorce listed here between Peggy Mills and her husband John from nearly twenty years ago. And there’s also a divorce between Dale Cutter and his wife Nancy Cutter eighteen years ago.”

Trisha let out a whistle. “Wow, it looks like Dale Cutter and Peggy Mills got married a year after Dale’s divorce.” She met his gaze. “That makes Nick Cutter Renee Mills’s stepbrother. She never mentioned him when you interviewed her about the stolen car, did she? And they must be on good terms if they’re all on her social media page.”

“No, she never mentioned him. The parents are too old to be our masked perp, but Cutter is the right age, and height.” He pushed back from the computer. “Remember how we suspected she wasn’t being fully cooperative? Maybe she suspected her stepbrother had taken the car but didn’t want to implicate him.”

“We need to talk to her again,” Trisha agreed, shifting Gabriel to her other hip.

“Yeah, we do.” Trisha jiggled Gabriel in her arms. Laurel came over and took the baby.

“I heard you have work to do,” Laurel said. “I’m feeling much better this morning, so please hit the road. The sooner you find that masked perp, the sooner our lives can get back to normal.”

West reluctantly nodded. Leaving Gabriel with Laurel was the smart thing to do. Especially as he knew the PCPD would have squads going by on a regular basis. He glanced at Trish, then down at Peanut, who seemed to sense they were going to work. “Let’s hit the storage unit facility first, then head back to interview Mills.”

“I like that plan.” She crossed over to grab her coat. “Thanks for keeping an eye on Gabriel for me,” she added to Laurel. “Call if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine. Won’t we?” Laurel kissed Gabriel’s cheek. Then she patted the gun in her holster. “I won’t let anyone sneak up on me unawares again.”

“I know you won’t.” West shrugged into his own black leather jacket then put Peanut’s black K-9 vest in place and clipped a leash to her collar. The morning temps were cold, but the high for the day was a solid fifty degrees. A sure sign spring was just around the corner. He noticed Trisha had her gun on her belt, too, as he did. Feeling better about their situation, especially having Laurel and Gabriel in a safe house, he opened the door leading to the attached garage. “Come, Peanut. Let’s go.”

“Why do you want to hit the storage unit facility first?” Trisha asked once they were on the road.

“It’s still early enough that the manager may not be there.” He flashed a wry grin. “Easier to intimidate some young kid manning the post than someone with authority.”

“I like it.” She grinned. “If anyone can intimidate a kid, it’s you.”

“Thanks, I think.” He had to stifle the urge to laugh. Why was it that he felt lighter when he was with Trish? As if Kenyon’s death and the responsibility of the job didn’t weigh as heavily on his shoulders?

Willing the uncomfortable thoughts away, he kept an eye on the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t followed. Late last night, he’d gone out to use black electrical tape to alter a letter and number on his license plate, just in case the masked perp had taken note of it. The alteration wouldn’t hold up under close scrutiny, but from a distance it did the trick.

They reached the storage unit facility fifteen minutes later. This one was closer to Trish’s home, and in theory more likely to have been chosen by Bryan Little.

He parked near the office, and then let Peanut out of the back hatch. Peanut looked alert—the vest was her cue to know they were working. “Ready to find tools? Find tools, Peanut.”

Peanut wagged her tail, lifting her nose to the air. When Trisha joined him, they headed inside.

Unfortunately, the guy behind the counter looked older and less likely to be intimidated. Hoping for the best, West flashed his gold shield. “I’m Detective Cole and this is Officer McCord. We’re here to look at Bryan Little’s storage unit.”

The guy took his time looking at one badge and the other, then shrugged. “Don’t recognize the name. Do you have a warrant?”

“I can get one,” West said, even though that wasn’t exactly true. “We’re investigating an assault and attempted kidnapping of a minor.”

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