Hard Ride to Dry Gulch

But she hated that it had taken ten months to find out that her son had porn hidden in his room. That probably wouldn’t have helped her or the police find him. But what else had been going on in his life that she didn’t suspect?

Had he grown from a kid to a man without her realizing it? When had she lost touch with him?

Faith looked up, suddenly aware of the gravity in Travis’s low, deep-toned voice as he talked on the phone, and wondered if he was talking about Cornell or one of his homicide cases.

She studied the lines and planes of his profile. His face was tanned, his brows as dark as his hair, his face narrowing into a prominent chin and jawline.

He wasn’t pretty-boy handsome, but he was definitely the kind of man who’d stand out in a crowd. The archetype of strength and masculinity. His looks and manner instilled confidence. If anyone could find Cornell, it would be Travis Dalton.

Or was it her own desperation that made her read those qualities into him? If so, it was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make.

“Disturbing news?” she asked once he’d broken the connection and returned the phone to his pocket.

“Could have been better.”

“Does it have to do with Cornell?”

“Afraid so.”

A new wave of apprehension flooded though her. “Were they able to trace the call?”

“Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“We have a general location, but not a specific one.”

“But a general location is better than nothing,” she insisted. “It gives us an area to start searching for him.”

“A very large and undefined area. The call was made from Texas, somewhere near the Mexican border south of San Antonio. But the phone used to make the call was purchased in Mexico. That places Cornell either north or south of the border.”

“Doesn’t the phone-service company have an address for the subscriber?”

“It’s not registered to a subscriber.”

“So it’s like one of those phones you can buy at a convenience store with a certain number of minutes included.”

“Exactly.”

“So all we really know is that Cornell is somewhere near the Mexican border.” Terror rumbled inside her. The border towns were known for their violent drug cartels, especially on the Mexico side.

Murders had risen to the point that few Americans ventured into them. Most of the police were rumored to be corrupt or so afraid of the cartels they couldn’t do their job. She and Cornell had watched a special about that on TV just last year. He’d been disgusted with the whole idea of criminals running over honest citizens.

“Cornell would never have gone to Mexico on his own,” Faith said. She dropped to the side of the bed. “He’s been abducted, Travis. I’m more certain of that than ever now. I have to find him, even if it means going into Mexico.” Her voice rose with her growing hysteria.

Travis shoved the magazines aside, dropped to the bed beside her. “I know how frightened you are, Faith, but believe me, going down there won’t help, and it could put you in danger.”

“Then what will help, Travis? Sitting here doing nothing? Endless talking and promises from Mark Ethridge and now you? Waiting to hear that my son has been...”

A shudder ripped through her. Tears burned her eyes and then began to roll down her cheeks.

Travis snaked an arm around her shoulder. She started to push away from him, but the pain overpowered her stubbornness. Impulsively, she dropped her head to his shoulder and submitted to the ragged sobs.

Travis didn’t say a word until she’d cried herself out and pulled herself together. Even then, he didn’t move his arm from around her shoulder.

She pulled away. Talk. For ten months all the police had given her was talk. Why had she ever thought Travis would be different?

“I have connections in the towns on both sides of the border, Faith. Let me speak with them and put them on alert,” Travis pleaded. “They know how to handle this, who to talk to, where to look.”

“Then why haven’t the police already done that?”

“I’m sure they have, but I’ll put on the pressure. Give me forty-eight hours. If we don’t have a lead by then, I’ll make a trip to the area.”

Faith walked to the other side of the room before turning back to him. “Anything could happen in forty-eight hours.”

“Anything could have happened in the last ten months,” Travis said. “But you heard Cornell’s voice. You know he’s alive, and he didn’t actually tell you he was in danger when he called.”

“If he wasn’t being held against his will, he’d be home. I don’t know why I can’t make anyone understand that.”

“I’m trying, Faith. Believe me, I’m looking at this from all angles. I’d like to take Cornell’s computer with me to see what additional information I can glean from it.”

“It’s a waste of time. Officer Ethridge and the private investigator I hired have both already checked the computer out and found nothing. Nothing suspicious on his email or any of his social-media pages. And nothing in the websites he’d visited offered so much as one decent lead.”

“I’d like to take that a step further,” Travis said. “The DPD has one of the best computer forensics experts in the country. He can discover ambient data that the average Joe has no idea exists on the hard drive. He’s found critical information to help me solve a murder case more times than I can count.”

“What kind of data do you expect to find?”

“It’s the unexpected that usually produces the best evidence. I’ll see if I can get a rush on this.”

Travis’s dedication seemed genuine, and if she could believe his rhetoric, he was ready to make finding Cornell a priority. But why? He was a homicide detective. This was way outside his line of duty.

“Why are you taking this on with such fervor, Travis? This isn’t your job. It isn’t you responsibility.”

“Let’s just say any friend of my new sister-in-law’s is a friend of mine. And from what I hear, you’re her best friend, practically family.”

“And from what I hear, you don’t even claim kin to your own father.”

“There is that,” Travis admitted. “So I guess we’ll have to go with that I’m one of the good guys.”

Strangely, she believed him. Yet she wasn’t convinced he understood the urgency. All her instincts stressed that the call from Cornell had been a sign that his fear was growing. He’d taken a risk to call her, and someone else had heard him on the phone. They were running out of time.

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