Page 65 of Waiting for Devon
Detective Kennedy pulled up the footage on his cell phone. “Take a look and see if you recognize these men.”
Reed let out a string of vile expletives. “I don’t believe this. These guys work on the ranch. Harry Walton and Smith Brown. They were missing for hours yesterday. Just wait until we catch them. They’ll rue the day they put their dirty hands on Devon.”
“Any idea where they would take her? More importantly, why?”
“No, none.”
“Come to the station and we’ll investigate further. We found Dr. Brooks’ purse but not her cell phone. With any luck, we’ll be able to pinpoint her location if it’s on, or at least get an idea of where she was when it last pinged off a cell tower.”
On the short drive to Detective Kennedy’s precinct, Jack asked, “How well do you know those guys?”
“They’ve worked for me for about two years. Do I know them personally? No. I don’t socialize with the hired help.” Hearing Jack’s derisive snort, he gritted his teeth. “Yeah, you don’t need to tell me how pretentious I sounded.”
“I don’t understand why Devon fell in love with you. You’re not her type at all.”
“I could say the same about you. Look, I don’t want to discuss this anymore. Let’s just find Devon so you can take her home where she belongs.”
Jack glanced sideways at him. “So, you’re really giving Devon up? For mistaken pride? Jesus, Barrington, what the hell is wrong with you? Devon loves you in spite of yourself, and you’re choosing to let her go? Man, didn’t you listen to a damn thing I said?”
“One more word, Taylor, and I’m going to pull over and knock your teeth down your throat.”
Jack slumped in his seat. Reed ignored him and clenched the steering wheel. Rage and regret and trepidation fought for dominance in him. At the moment, he didn’t know how he felt other than helpless and bothered by Jack’s accusations.
He tried to recall conversations he’d had with Harry and Smitty. Aside from his reaction to them yesterday, after they had already snatched Devon, he couldn’t think of anything he said or did that might have prompted them to do this. And Devon was too kindhearted to disrespect them.
It didn’t feel like revenge to Reed. Maybe it was about money after all, and the pair of kidnappers were biding their time until they contacted the Barringtons. He remembered Harry’s bruised and battered face and wondered if he were in some sort of trouble. The story about being in a barfight was probably a lie.
Reed’s mind whirled with possibilities as he and Jack arrived at the precinct, identified themselves, and asked to be shown into Detective Kennedy’s office. A busy sergeant pointed over his shoulder at the glassed-in office behind him.
The detective motioned them to sit in a pair of hard metal chairs. Studying his computer screen, he began, “Here’s what I’ve gleaned so far. Harry Walton has worked on different ranches in the area, but he has a clean record. I spoke to one former employer who said he laid Walton off due to financial hardships. Smith Brown got into trouble as a juvenile, petty crimes. Nothing too serious. He’s never spent any time in prison. I don’t see a motive for kidnapping. They’re both making a good salary working for you, Barrington.”
“Try gambling,” Reed suggested. “It crossed my mind on the way here. Harry came to work one day with his face smashed in. He said he’d gotten into a barfight, but now I have my doubts.”
“All right, let me check that angle.”
As Detective Kennedy worked on his computer, Reed continued, “There’s something else I just remembered. Devon passed out at the clinic, and when I found her and took her to the hospital, the doctor noticed bruises on her arms. He said he wasn’t sure how she got them. Not by fainting, anyway. And she wasn’t lying unconscious in the examination room where she’d delivered a baby.”
The detective frowned. “So, you suspect they may have tried to kidnap her before?”
“That’s my guess.”
“Are there security cameras around the clinic?”
“Yes. We had them installed after Devon was attacked by a drug addict.”
“Jesus,” Jack muttered.
“How long ago was that?”
“A couple of months.”
Detective Kennedy called a sergeant he knew in the cyber department. “Hey, will you pull up security camera footage from the Barrington-Brooks clinic? I need whatever you can get.”
He turned his attention back to searching for more information on Harry Walton and made another call. “Well, what do you know? I just spoke to my CI. Looks like your guy is involved with a nasty character named Digger Sharpe. I’ve been investigating him for months. Not only is he a ruthless loan shark, but he’s got a hand in other organized crimes, too. Money laundering for one. Sex trafficking for another. Problem is, witnesses keep disappearing or ending up dead, so we’re having a difficult time building a case against him. Harry’s in deep for thousands of dollars to Sharpe. Maybe we can use him to help us finally arrest this guy.”
Reed swore. “I should have fired him the moment he told me about the barfight.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. He would have kidnapped Dr. Brooks, regardless. Digger Sharpe doesn’t mess around. Harry needs money fast. Or he may try to bargain with Sharpe.”
