Murder Gone A-Rye (A Baker's Treat Mystery) by Nancy J. Parra

for rules. It made it easy to watch him, in a way. He was more likely to catch you not following the rules then he was to disobey them himself.
    “Were there any other kids at the park?” Officer Bright asked, his tone reassuring.
    “No.” Tasha shook her head as I led her back to the chair. The girl needed to sit before she crumpled to the floor.
    “What is all the noise about?” Tim tumbled down the stairs wearing jeans and a black tee shirt, his hair standing on end.
    “Kip’s missing,” I said.
    “I’ve looked all over,” Tasha said. “Please, help.”
    “Well, crap,” Tim said and ran his hand through his hair, making it even wilder. He turned to Officer Bright. “What’s the plan?”
    “Plan is to get more details before we send out a search team. Proper action is better than simple action.”
    “Right.” Tim shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, his bare feet evidence that he had been sleeping. Since Tim worked nights, he often crashed at the house during the day.
    “Here, sip this.” Phyllis walked back into the foyer with a brandy snifter in her hand. There was an amber liquid in the bottom.
    “No.” Tasha held up her hand. “I want to stay sober.”
    “A sip will help with the shock,” Grandma said flatly and nodded as Phyllis offered it again.
    This time Tasha took it and took a small sip. You could tell she decided that she needed help calming down, because she took a second, longer drink.
    “You were in the park with Kip. What time was it?” Officer Bright pressed.
    “It was three P.M. I know because my phone recorded my last text.”
    “Who were you texting?”
    “My coworker Emily Porter. She was having an issue with a maid and asking for my advice.” Tasha’s blue eyes filled with tears and her nose turned red. Her mouth was a thin line, her distress clear in her features.
    “Would you say Kip’s father was in the area or not?”
    “No.” Tasha shook her head vehemently. “Definitely not.”
    Tim and Officer Bright exchanged glances.
    I patted Tasha’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Officer Bright has to ask the question, right?”
    “Right.” He gave a short nod. “Many of our cases of missing children can be traced to an estranged parent.”
    “Not this one,” Tasha said. Her blue eyes turned dark and glittered. “Andrew hasn’t been in the picture since Kip was diagnosed with Asperger’s five years ago.”
    “I see. Do you know if he lives in the area?”
    “No, last I heard he went out to Las Vegas.”
    “Have you had any recent tiffs with his family or friends?”
    “Whose? Andrew’s?” She let out an inelegant snort. “As far as they’re concerned, Kip is mine and mine alone. No one in their family has ever had Asperger’s, so he can’t be Andrew’s.”
    “Would there be any reason for them to take Kip from the park?”
    “No, no reason.” Tasha twirled the cup in her fingers. The remaining sip of brandy sloshed perilously close to the surface. Tasha wore a gray sweaterdress over black leggings. Ankle boots finished her chic outfit. Her fingernails were painted a soft shell-pink. Her fingers were bereft of rings.
    I was the ring person, not Tasha. She loved nail art and usually wore some outlandish pattern on her fingers. She once told me that after Andrew left, she vowed never to wear a ring again. It was then she learned how much she liked nail art. It was unusual for her nails to be bare of pattern.
    “Why are we sitting here? Shouldn’t we be out there looking for Kip? I feel like we’re wasting time. The sun is going down soon, and it will get cold fast.”
    “Yes, ma’am, please be assured Officer Emry and Officer Remington are combing the neighborhood for your son.”
    “Did you issue an Amber Alert?” Tim asked. “We are very close to the turnpike.”
    In fact, Oiltop was one of the exits off of Interstate 35, the Kansas State toll road. We had truck stops near the exit. Any bad guys had easy access to a quick getaway unless an