Dallas, Texas
April 1978
"Mrs Ewing, do you have little John out here with you?"
Looking up at Mrs Reeves as she approached the patio table, Sue Ellen's first thought was that she hadn't seen the baby since breakfast. Her second was to wonder why the baby nurse would think she had him, she rarely did.
"The baby? No."
"Did the elder Mrs Ewing take him for a check-up?"
"I don't know. Why?"
Curious now, Sue Ellen sat up a little straighter, a strange feeling creeping over her.
"He's not in the nursery, but he hardly got up and crawled away himself. Someone must have him."
"What do you mean he's not in the nursery?"
She hoped she'd misunderstood, but when Mrs Reeves reiterated her point, a wave of light-headedness hit her.
"He's gone. I went to give him his bottle, and he wasn't there. I've looked everywhere and can't find him."
"No."
Whispering more to herself than to Mrs Reeves, Sue Ellen was glad to be sitting. The dizzy, ill feeling threatened to make her legs give way. Head in her hands, the terrifying thoughts came quickly, graphic and vivid. The baby was gone, and it was her fault. She'd completely neglected him, and now she was paying the price.
The pain was unlike anything JR had ever felt. His son was missing, presumed kidnapped, and they had no suspects, no leads on how it had happened. For once, their money wasn't much help. They were offering a reward for any information, but what they were getting had to be taken with a grain of salt. Their best chance of getting John Ross back, alive and well, was to wait for a ransom demand and pay it. The silence, however, was deafening, no ransom had been demanded, no contact made at all.
He'd been so focused on keeping their medical records private that he'd missed a very real threat to their personal safety. The knowledge of his carelessness was eating away at him.
Teresa had called him at the office with the news, shocking him first with the facts and then with feedback that Sue Ellen was a wreck. He'd worried about her seeming indifference to John Ross, but if ever there was a time for her muted emotions to be useful, it was now. Unfortunately, she was feeling everything. He'd seen that for himself the moment he arrived home.
Doctor Danvers had tried to give her a sedative, but she'd resisted, wanting her mind to be clear if more news arrived.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
Hearing the front door open and Bobby calling out a warm greeting, oblivious to the situation, she wasn't in the mood to respond, but she thought she ought to. The rest of the family was dispersed around the ranch, searching for her son.
"Hello, Bobby."
Descending the staircase, she noticed he'd brought a guest home with him, just what they needed.
"Sue Ellen? What's wrong?"
Setting his attaché case down by the door, he approached her, meeting her at the foot of the stairs.
"They have him. They have the baby."
She struggled to keep it together; the words hurt to say.
"Who does?"
"We don't know. He's gone."
"Gone where? Kidnapped?"
"Yes... we think so."
"What are their demands?"
His expression turned serious, and for once, she saw a resemblance to JR, his determination to act so similar to JR that it had to be genetic.
"There are none. We haven't heard a thing."
The uncertainty was the worst part. If there had been a ransom demand or even a clue as to how it happened, she might have had something to focus on. As it was, her mind kept circling back to her own behaviour and how she might have contributed to this nightmare.
"Where is everyone?"
"JR's in the study with the police, your daddy's down at the stables, Miss Ellie's upstairs in the nursery, and I don't know where Lucy is."
Bobby nodded, his face softening. His next question almost brought her to tears again.
"How are you?"
"I don't know."
She felt all sorts of things, and confusion was one of them.
"We'll find him."
He wrapped his arms around her, catching her by surprise. Even more surprising were his words when he pulled away.
"I know this is a terrible time, but I'd like you to meet Pamela, my wife."
He gestured toward the young woman beside him. Despite his nerves, his happiness was obvious. He'd eloped, and the family was sure to have strong opinions about it.
"Did you get it?"
Glancing at the closed door, Jock willed it to stay shut, hoping none of the ranch hands, especially Ray, would overhear his conversation.
"Yes."
"Good. Bring him back."
"He won't stop crying. I can't discreetly drop him off when he's hysterical."
"Try putting your finger in his mouth; it'll help him sleep."
It was advice Jock had used himself once or twice, usually with a little bourbon on his finger. He wasn't surprised when the response was negative, he'd find the idea disgusting too if little John wasn't family.
"I don't even know this kid."
"He's not diseased. Half an hour. Be ready."
Hanging up, tired of the complaining, Jock braced himself for the relief the rest of the family would soon feel, and the guilt he might feel for putting them through this nightmare.
It had been a necessary step. Waiting for an opportunity to occur naturally was taking too long, so he'd taken matters into his own hands. Only later, when he had the results of the test, would he know if it had all been worth it.