Author's Note: Dear Readers, to those of you who celebrate it, I wish you a joyous Christmas surrounded by people you love. I also hope you'll enjoy this chapter! I hope to have another one coming soon! Thanks as always to my beta readers, katbybee and Piscean6724, and to all my readers who keep coming back for more of my stories.

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Chapter 9

Glossary (Choctaw - English)

Nashoba - Wolf (Johnny's Choctaw name)

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Around ten o'clock, Jim Seward dropped his pen on the desk and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He knew he should knock off and go home to get some sleep, but the more he learned about Ramona Martinez, the more he worried about the little girl she had taken. Allegedly taken, he told himself. They were ninety-nine point nine percent sure she was the kidnapper, but so far they had no real proof. For now, they were working off the word of a kid with Down Syndrome and a nine-year-old girl who had spent the last four months hiding out in a hotel room, making do for herself. It had gotten them a warrant to search the woman's apartment, but all that search had done was lead to more questions.

He shuffled through the paperwork to find the notes he'd taken from his interview with Oscar Martinez' sister. He'd shared select bits with John and Nita Gage, just so they would feel they were in the loop, but most of it he'd held back. It was too disheartening.

Susanna Martinez said that Ramona hadn't shed a tear at the funeral of her husband and child. "She just stood there. I could've sworn she was gloating. Oscar was ready to leave her, you know. He was going to take the baby and get as far away as he could. He said he didn't trust Ramona alone with her." She'd pulled out a handkerchief then and pressed it to her eyes before continuing. "I didn't believe him at first when he said she was dangerous. She could be so charming when she wanted to be. Around me, she acted like a loving mother. But Oscar said she couldn't handle the baby crying, that she was convinced it meant Ada hated her… and Ada had colic real bad, so she cried a lot. And that car accident…" She shook her head. "Detective, they said it was brake failure. But Oscar was meticulous about maintaining his car. I tried to convince the police to look into it, but no one would listen to me." She shuddered. "I hope you find that little girl. If Ramona did take her… well… I'm afraid of what she'd do."

Seward reached for his coffee cup and took a swig of the heavily caffeinated brew, then moved on to the report on Oscar Martinez' accident. The investigator had made a notation about the sister's suspicions but had failed to follow up on it. Jim made a note to do so as soon as this case was resolved.

Seward wrinkled his nose as the smell of a cigarette wafted through the office space. Someone else was still here. A minute later, that someone came up behind him. "You're still here, Jim?"

Damn. He'd hoped to avoid Drummond tonight. He didn't need any commentary from that jackass on this case. "Same as you, Tom," he said curtly, without looking up. He preferred not to invite further conversation.

Drummond lowered his skinny frame into the chair at Ed Mulligan's desk, catty-corner to Seward's. "I don't get it."

Jim rolled his eyes. You never do, Drummond. But he refrained from saying anything.

"I mean, why all this fuss over an Indian kid? Who cares? If they wanted to keep their kid safe, why'd they ever come off their stinkin' res?" He squashed his cigarette on the desktop. "Ten to one, the mom sold the kid and this whole kidnapping story is a cover up."

Jim ignored Drummond at first. Correcting him on the details wouldn't do any good — Drummond was impervious to facts. But once he got on a soap box, he would never shut down on his own accord. So, Jim finally looked up and glared at the man. "Tom, I can tell you this — if my kid ever went missing, you're the last person I'd want on the case. If you're going to make assumptions like that without even spending the time to get to know the victims, you don't deserve your badge. And I'll be reporting exactly what you just said to me when I see Sergeant Espinoza first thing in the morning. You better believe he won't appreciate it. Now get your prejudiced butt outta here — I have a job to do."

Drummond let his jaw hang open for a long moment, but at least he didn't say anything else. Finally, with an angry huff, he got up and stomped away, leaving Jim Seward alone.

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John, Nita, and Jamie spent a fitful night as guests of the Halversons. At Nancy's insistence, they had checked out of the hotel — Carolanne refused to take payment after hearing what her employee was suspected of doing — and they moved into the small guest house Swede and his son had built together. The little house was comfortable, but none of them had slept well. Jamie was fussy and kept crying for JoJo and for his favorite stuffed bear; Nita's nerves were frayed; and Johnny was doing his damnedest to hold his emotions at bay and stay strong for his family. He had considered joining Roy and the other volunteers from the conference at plastering flyers around the city, but he didn't want to leave Nita alone in case Detective Seward called with news… especially bad news. Every once in a while, he had to step outside and take a walk in the cool night air and yell at God a little. Then he would get it together again and go back in and be the anchor he always tried to be for his family.

Come morning, Jamie was finally asleep. Nita and Johnny were exhausted, but still wide awake, waiting for a call from Seward. At last, around nine thirty, Nancy came running to knock on the door of the guest house, Sarah Kate tagging along behind her. "Detective Seward is on the phone. You should come." Her gaze traveled to Jamie, asleep in an old playpen. "I can watch the little guy for you."

Nita hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "I can't, Nashoba. If it's bad news, I'd rather hear it from you."

Johnny pulled her close and kissed her forehead, then looked up at Nancy. "Stay with her?"

Nancy nodded. "Of course." She nodded toward the ranch house. "Phone's in the kitchen."

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"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Gage?"

"Just me, Detective." Johnny closed his eyes, willing the next words from the man to be We've found her.

"We've had a response to the flyers," Seward began. "A lot of tips came in that turned out to be useless, but several people reported seeing a woman and child matching the descriptions of Ramona Martinez and your daughter exiting the zoo. Another caller saw the same woman putting a crying child into a green VW Bug with temporary plates and driving away. She didn't know there was any reason to note the plate number, though." He took a deep breath, then continued. "The times of these sightings line up with the time of JoJo's disappearance. The description of her car led us to a report of a traffic stop on Interstate 5 a couple of hours later, just south of Olympia. The patrol officer noted a fussy toddler in a car seat in the back of the vehicle. The name of the driver was Ramona Martinez. Unfortunately, this happened before we knew who we were looking for, and we didn't have an APB out yet. But we've got the number on those temporary plates, and police up and down the Western Seaboard are on the lookout."

It wasn't what Johnny had hoped for, but it was something. At least at the time of the traffic stop, JoJo was alive. She was in a car seat, which he hoped meant the kidnapper wanted to keep her safe. But at this point, they could be anywhere. How many exits were there off the 5 between Olympia and the state's southern border? How many little towns in that part of Washington, or were they in Oregon or even further south by now? Or maybe they'd headed east and all those police on the Western Seaboard were about to catch was wind. "Detective, this wait is killing me. There's gotta be something I can do to help in the search."

The sound of Seward clearing his throat came across the line. "The best thing you can do, Mr. Gage," he said sharply, "is to let us do our job." He sighed and his tone softened. "I'm sorry. Listen, if it were my kid, I'd wanna be out there too. But right now, there's nothing you can do to help find her. I promise I'll call with any new developments. We're doing everything we can."

We're doing everything we can. Johnny recognized that line. He'd used it often enough as a paramedic, a reassurance he'd dole out to anxious victims or their loved ones to keep their hopes up, even when he knew things were hopeless. He curled his hand into a fist, then remembered Roy's busted hand. Nita didn't need to deal with an injured husband on top of everything else. He also didn't want to put a hole in Swede's kitchen wall. "Yeah, I know," he rasped out. "Thanks, Detective." He hung up the phone and trudged back to the guest house to give Nita the news.

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Protect. Haven knew that word, and she knew it applied to the human pup that the woman had brought into the house. She sensed something wrong with that woman. Haven didn't quite understand it yet, but she knew the woman and the human pup didn't belong together. The smell was all wrong, and the human pup was scared of the woman. So, Haven determined that she wasn't going to let the woman anywhere near the little two-legger. Any time the woman approached the human pup, Haven's hackles raised, and she growled low in her throat as she moved herself in between the two.

This made the woman angry, but Haven didn't care. She didn't need the woman's praise. She got plenty of that from her own two-legger and now from the human pup, who had quickly become a part of her pack. The pup had been raised well, Haven decided, by whatever dogs lived in the place where she belonged — she'd been away from them, but their scent was still heavy on her. She knew not to pull on the tail or ears or poke fingers in the eyes and she shared her breakfast and she called Haven "goggie" in a most endearing way. And for that, Haven was prepared to defend her at any cost.

Just now, the human pup was with the old two-legger in the next room, and Haven was lying in the doorway, on guard. The dog eyed the woman across the room. She was standing at the counter, working on something that smelled delicious. Haven didn't trust her, but that smell was enticing. It made her mouth water. Surely just enjoying it from a distance wouldn't do any harm.

Then suddenly the woman knelt down and held out her hand with something in it. Something good and sweet-smelling. Haven raised her head, her nose sniffing the air, and whined. The woman patted the floor in front of her. "Come on, Haven. Come on… good girl."

The voice was confusing. Usually it was hard and angry, not soft and inviting. Haven wasn't sure what to make of it. She tilted her head and whined a little in her throat.

"Come on, Haven. I'm just trying to make friends." The woman patted the ground again. "Come on."

Uncertain, but unable to resist the delicious aroma, Haven inched forward on her belly. Then she got up on her four paws and padded across the room. Friend was another word she knew. Her human used it for people he trusted. Had she been wrong about the woman? She took the small chunk of sweet-smelling goodness between her teeth, then backed off and settled herself once more in the doorway to enjoy her treat. It was gone far too quickly, and the woman's voice went all hard again as she said, "Good dog."

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Manuel balanced Ada on his knee as they paged through some of Teo's old picture books. So far, Mona was having a good day. For the last couple of hours, she'd been busy in the kitchen while he watched the baby. That suited him fine. The aroma of brownies baking was quite pleasant, and as long as Mona kept her distance, Ada did all right. She wasn't happy by any means, but she was quiet. She had to be tired — she had barely slept during the night. Manuel had gone up into the attic and found some of the kids' old stuffed animals, and she'd latched on to a floppy little teddy bear that Teo had once loved. She hadn't let it out of her sight since.

Ah, Teo, Manuel thought. I wish you were here. You always could handle your little sister better than anyone.

Manuel had tried to make a good life for his wife and children, but it had been an uphill battle. Times were tough when the kids were little, and Mona's behavior had always confounded him. She was too much like her maternal grandmother. One minute, Carla would be sweet as sugar, and the next she would fly into a rage, and no one could ever figure out what set her off. Manuel's wife had borne more than a few scars inflicted by her mother. When she was eight, the woman had hurled a china plate at her, catching her just below the eye and opening a gash along her cheekbone. Carla had been in and out of institutions after that. Manuel hated the thought of seeing Mona in an institution, but for little Ada's sake, perhaps it would be best. Of course, to his knowledge, she hadn't done anything yet to merit such a step. He just prayed she never would.

"Move, Haven," Mona snapped from the kitchen doorway.

Manuel looked up in time to see her pull her foot back as if she were about to aim a kick at the dog. "Don't do it, Mona," he admonished, followed by a command to Haven. "Come here, girl."

Haven got up and trotted over to him, allowing Mona to enter the room, but blocking her access to the toddler.

As Mona drew near, Ada stiffened and leaned in close to Manuel, hiding her face against his chest. He patted on her and rubbed her back. "Papi's got you, baby," he murmured. "It's OK."

Mona set the plate she was carrying down on the coffee table. "Give Ada to me, Papa. I have a treat for her. She has to learn that I'm —" She snapped her mouth shut. "I mean… she has to learn to love her mommy." That she spoke the words through clenched teeth made the smile she mustered as she said them unconvincing. Manuel wondered what she had been going to say originally.

Haven got up on all fours, growling, and Mona backed away. Manuel kept his arms around the little girl. "I'm sure she loves you," he said. "But she doesn't want to go to you when you're angry." He eyed the brownies on the plate. "Besides, it's time for lunch. She shouldn't start with dessert." He fixed his eyes on Mona. "And put those brownies up high. I don't want Haven getting into anything chocolate."