Lakota Baby

“I didn’t ask him.”

“Well, don’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “He won’t ever marry you. He has too much of his father in him to care about a white woman.”

“I said, I didn’t ask him.” If Leotie didn’t get the hell out soon, Maggie was afraid she’d say or do something she’d regret. She had to remind herself not to rise to Leotie’s bait, to take the high road. But her emotions were raw and she wasn’t in the mood.

Mentally, she counted to ten.

One.

“If he marries, he’ll choose a Lakota woman.”

Two.

“Like me.”

Three.

“Do we understand each other?”

Four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten! “Leave, Leotie.” Maggie pointed to the door, her lips set in a firm tight line, afraid if she opened them again, she’d spew forth venom.

“Fine.” Leotie tugged at the belt of her already tight coat and flipped her hair back again. “Just remember—”

Maggie’s control snapped. “Out!”

Leotie snorted and spun on her heel, marching to the door. But she couldn’t leave without a parting shot. “Just because he’s helping you doesn’t mean anything.”

With her tongue pinched between her teeth, Maggie only pointed to the door.

Leotie flung the heavy metal door open and it crashed against the building, bouncing back to smack into her shoulder. She swore and shot a glance backward as if to see if Maggie had seen her fit of temper backfire.

Served her right. The bitch didn’t know what love was. Joe deserved someone who really cared for him and the people of his tribe. Not a venomous witch like Leotie, who only cared about herself. He needed someone kind, caring and devoted to his people.

Someone like you? A niggling voice asked the question in Maggie’s head.

No. Not a red-headed white woman.

Best stick to worrying about Dakota. Joe was out of reach.

She walked into her office and closed the door.

AS SOON AS Joe entered the station he asked, “Any leads from the Amber Alert?”

“A couple of sightings of women carrying babies into stores in Rapid City.” Del shrugged. “The babies were theirs.”

“Do you have anything on the graffiti on Mag—Mrs. Brandt’s house?” Her married name burned an acid path down his throat and gave him the worst case of heartburn he’d known since returning from Iraq.

Del slid a sideways glance at him, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Bother you that she married Paul after you left?”

“No,” Joe lied. Hell yes, it bothered him. The tarmac hadn’t even cooled from the plane taking off before she’d married Paul.

What galled him most was who she had married.

His stepbrother.

Paul had been nothing but a thorn in his side since his mother had married Kevin Brandt. The six-year-old boy had followed him around like a lost puppy, mimicking his every move.

Now that Paul was gone, Joe realized how much he missed his stepbrother and had to admit he’d enjoyed the hero-worship when they were younger.

“What makes a woman go out with one man and marry another the next day?” Del asked, and then winced. “Sorry, that’s pretty personal.”

“She had the right.”

“I thought you two would make a go of it before you left.”

“Well, we didn’t.” Joe moved through the crowded office to his desk in the corner and stared down at the neat top, as yet uncluttered with a full workload. He’d been easing back into his old job as chief of tribal police. Until today. The kidnapping had thrown him full-force back into work. “Did you find out who left the graffiti on her house?”

“Not yet. I bet it’s one of the druggies that hangs out with the Sukas Gang. My inside source says one of them has a gripe against your Maggie for the death of his girlfriend, Kiya Driskall.”

The Sukas Gang had been growing before Joe had left for his tour of duty, but he’d thought their numbers manageable and somewhat contained. And from the police report, Kiya’s death had been attributed to drug overdose. “Kiya’s death wasn’t Maggie’s fault.”

“We know that, but for some reason Randy Biko hasn’t figured that out.”

“Randy? I thought he’d turned around and straightened up his act?”

Del shrugged. “A lot changes in a year.”

“Apparently.” Not for the first time that day, Joe regretted the timing of his call to service with his South Dakota National Guard unit. He wondered if things would have been different if he hadn’t gone. Would he have turned his back on Maggie? Would Kiya Driskall still be alive? Would the gangs have expanded whether or not he’d been here? He’d never know.

One thing was certain, he didn’t regret his time in Iraq. The people of that country needed someone to defend their right to life and the men in his unit had needed him. Courting death in Iraq taught him a lot about himself. And if he could he’d take back what he’d said to Maggie before he left.

Del strode to the wall where a white board hung, littered with notes from previous cases. He wiped it clean and wrote in black erasable marker the date and time of the missing person report and the call. “We know it’s a kidnapping and we’ve been given the ultimatum. We need to find what it is they think was stolen,” Del said.

“What we need to do is find the baby before they hurt him.” Joe pushed his chair back and stood. His heart pinched in his chest at how devastated Maggie would be if Dakota was hurt or killed. “Call in the entire force, we’re going house-to-house across the reservation until we find that kid. Do the necessary calling. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where you going?”

“I’m going to get Maggie. She’ll want to be there for the search.”

“Yes, sir!”

Joe left the office, his long stride eating up the distance between the door and his vehicle. He hated himself for the way his pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Maggie again. He shouldn’t be feeling that way for a newly widowed woman. Hell, she’d only lost her husband less than two weeks ago.

FOUR HOURS LATER, the sky was dark except for the yellow glow of porch lights on Red Feather Street. Disappointment gnawed at Joe’s gut. They were no closer to finding Dakota. Joe pulled the SUV to a stop in Maggie’s drive.

She sat for a moment staring at her house. What was she thinking?

Joe couldn’t imagine the worry going through her mind. “We’ll find him, Maggie. We still have the scattered homes farther out to check.”

She turned to him and placed a hand on his arm. “You’ll call me if you find anything? It doesn’t matter what time of day or night. Please call me.”

Her eyes beseeched him in the light from his dashboard, the pale purple smudges beneath them a testimony to the long day and the little sleep she’d had the night before. Joe couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out to cup her chin. “I’ll call you, Maggie. You know I will. I want Dakota back, too. He’s part of my family.”

Maggie’s eyes widened before her lids dropped down to cover the shock in their smoky-green depths. She jerked her chin from his grasp and fumbled with the door handle. “I should go inside. Maybe the kidnappers left another message on my answering machine.”

Had he imagined that look of fear when he’d mentioned Dakota was family? Did she hate him so much that she didn’t want him to be a part of her son’s life? “Dakota’s my nephew, Maggie. Does it bother you that I care about him?”

“No, not at all.” She gathered her purse and pushed open the door.

She wasn’t telling him something, and Joe wondered if what she held back was important to the case. He’d opened his mouth to ask her, when he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. His attention swung to the blinds in one of the windows. They hung at an odd angle. “Did you leave those blinds like that?” He pointed toward her house.

“Huh?” Maggie’s gaze followed the direction he indicated. “No. That’s the master bedroom. I never touch the blinds.” She jumped out of the SUV.

“Wait, Maggie.” Joe was out and beside her before she reached the front door. He set her to the side of the entryway and checked the handle. The door was locked securely. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and ran around to the back door.

The door stood wide open, the frame splintered from a harsh blow. “Someone kicked this door in,” Joe said, his voice a low rumble in the dark.

“You think they’re still inside?” Maggie whispered.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Joe held her by the shoulders and stared down into her eyes, barely discernible in the light from the stars. “Stay here.”

Chapter Five

Maggie waited in the dark of the back porch, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she felt light-headed. Her imagination ran through every conceivable scenario from someone lurking in the shadows of the bushes to a killer waiting to take Joe down inside the house.

When she heard a crash, Joe’s grunt and then a muttered curse, her heart skidded to a stop. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to think about what she was doing—she entered through the broken door and flipped on the light switch.

Standing amid overturned chairs, Joe shot a frown at her. “I told you to wait outside. Go on.” He didn’t wait for her response, instead he slipped around the corner of the little kitchen and down the hallway.

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