His Secret Christmas Baby
Rita Herron
Investigator Derrick McKinney's quiet bachelor life was shattered when the son he just learned existed was abducted right out from under the watchful eye of his beautiful guardian.And although she was left unconscious and heartbroken, someone feared Brianna Honeycutt saw more than she claimed, placing her life in danger. Working together, Derrick now had to push aside the long-buried attraction he'd always felt for Brianna.More determined than ever to end this nightmare and put a smile back on Brianna's face, Derrick vowed he'd stop at nothing to bring his baby home in time for Christmas….
“I’m Ryan’s father. I should have been there.”
Hating the look of guilt haunting her eyes, Derrick reached out and pressed his hand over hers. “Bri, this is not your fault.” He scraped a hand over his jaw. “And if I’d known about the baby, I would have been there.”
“Derrick—”
“No, Bri. It’s true and you know it. If I had known, I could have stopped these maniacs from kidnapping my son.”
Confusion muddled his brain, panic over where his son was making his throat tight. But Derrick wouldn’t let fear consume him.
He’d find Ryan no matter what. And he’d be the father the boy deserved.
His Secret Christmas Baby
Rita Herron
To Linda Howard, a special friend of my sister’s and now one of mine. Thanks for all your fabulous stories at the mountain cabin in Blue Ridge, and for being a fan!
Hope you enjoy this one!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling to kids for romance, and now she writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her Web site at www.ritaherron.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Brianna Honeycutt —A social worker at Magnolia Manor; her adopted son Ryan is missing….
Derrick McKinney —He’ll do anything he can to find the missing child, especially now he knows the baby is his.
Ryan Cummings —The infant has become Brianna’s whole world. Why would anyone want to kidnap an innocent baby?
Natalie Cummings —Ryan’s birth mother died after childbirth—was it natural causes or was she murdered?
Dana and Robert Philips —They desperately wanted a baby—could they have kidnapped Ryan?
Rhoda Hampton —She recently suffered her third miscarriage—did she take Ryan to replace the baby she lost?
Principal Lamont Billings —Does he know more than he’s telling about Natalie’s death?
Evan Rutherford —Teacher and high school football coach—does he know who is behind the meth lab?
Jameson Mansfield —The town lawyer who handles adoptions: Does he know something about the missing baby?
Dr. Houston Thorpe —Did he lie about Natalie’s cause of death?
Sheriff Beau Cramer —He dated Natalie. But is he covering up her murder?
Mark Larimer —A nurse at the local hospital—did he kill Natalie and kidnap the baby to keep his long-time secret about the meth lab?
Ace Atkins —Is this tough kid from Magnolia Manor responsible for the meth lab?
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Prologue
“Brianna, I’m afraid. If anything happens to me,” Natalie Cummings whispered, “promise me that you’ll take care of the baby.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Brianna Honeycutt squeezed her best friend’s hand as she pulled into the hospital emergency room entrance.
Another contraction seized Natalie, and she began the Lamaze breathing exercises, her hold on Brianna’s hand tightening painfully. “He, he, he—ho.”
Brianna breathed with her, grateful they’d finally made it to the hospital. A winter storm had rolled in, snow flurries blurring visibility, and she’d had to drive at a snail’s pace. And Natalie’s contractions were coming one on top of the other.
She threw the car into park as the contraction eased, and helped Natalie out, but Natalie clutched her hand again. “Promise me, Bri, I need to hear you say it.”
Pain and fear darkened Natalie’s eyes, and Brianna’s stomach clenched. She’d known Natalie was afraid of childbirth, but her voice quivered with terror.
“Of course, I will,” Brianna vowed softly. “But you’re going to be fine. A few minutes from now, you’ll be holding your baby, and you’ll forget all about the pain.”
Natalie opened her mouth to say something, but another contraction seized her. She pressed her hand to her stomach, and tried to breathe through it.
Suddenly a nurse and orderly appeared and raced toward them. “She’s in labor,” Brianna stated.
The nurse called for a wheelchair, and the orderly ran to get it. Brianna followed behind her as they wheeled Natalie to the reception desk to check her in.
Then suddenly Natalie cried out in pain, her water broke and chaos descended.
“I’m her labor coach,” Brianna informed as they rushed Natalie through the double doors to the exam room.
“We’ll come and get you in a moment,” the nurse said over her shoulder. “Let the doctor examine her.”
Brianna nodded, her nerves on edge as her friend disappeared through the doors, a terrified expression on her pale face. Brianna paced the waiting room for twenty minutes, her anxiety rising with every second that ticked by. Finally, her patience snapped, and she rushed to the nurses’ station and asked for an update.
The nurse appeared irritated at first, but went to the back to check, then returned five minutes later with a frown on her face. “I’m sorry, miss, but your friend had complications. They’ve taken her to surgery for an emergency C-section.”
A sense of fear overwhelmed Brianna. “Please let me know when she’s out.”
The nurse nodded, and Brianna paced the waiting room again. Two other couples hurried in and were sent to birthing rooms, the minutes dragging by. The coffee grew cold, her body more tense as she waited.
What was taking so long? What were the complications? Was Natalie all right? What about the baby?
An hour later, a doctor appeared, the grave expression on his face sending a chill down Brianna’s spine. “I’m Dr. Thorpe. You came in with Miss Cummings?”
Brianna nodded, then swallowed and finally forced her voice to work. “The baby—”
“Is fine,” the doctor said. “A little boy. Seven pounds, eight ounces. He’s in the nursery.”
She sucked in a harsh breath and gripped his arm. “And Natalie? Please, I have to see her.”
“I’m sorry,” he answered quietly. “But your friend died in childbirth.”
The room swirled around Brianna in a sea of white, and she felt her legs buckling. The doctor coaxed her to a vinyl sofa, and she put her head down between her knees, afraid she would pass out.
“What happened?” Brianna asked.
The doctor shifted and looked away. “She started hemorrhaging, then her heart gave out.”
Her heart? Natalie hadn’t had a heart condition, had she?
“Miss Honeycutt, I’m sorry. Is there any family I can call?”
Tears blurred her eyes as she lifted her head to look at him. “No,” she whispered. “Just me. I’m her family.”
“How about the baby’s father?”
“He’s not in the picture,” Brianna replied.
“Do you know his name so we can contact him?”
“No, she never told me.”
“Then we’ll need to call social services about the baby.”
Panic shot through Brianna, grief, fear and shock in its wake. No, she wouldn’t turn the baby over to the system. But Natalie hadn’t signed any papers giving her legal custody.
What if the baby’s father found out about him? Would he want the baby?
She had to act fast. She was a social worker for the local adoption agency, and she worked with Magnolia Manor, the local orphanage. Natalie wanted her to raise the baby, and she would push through the adoption immediately and keep her promise even if she had to fudge papers to do so.
But Natalie’s pleas before she’d gone to delivery taunted her. It was almost as if she’d known that she might not make it.
Had Natalie been afraid of something—or somebody? Had she been in danger?
Chapter One
Six weeks later
“Why can’t Robert and I adopt Natalie Cummings’s baby?” Dana Phillips asked.
Brianna tensed at the cold hardness in the young woman’s eyes. Dana and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for three years, had tried fertility treatments and in vitro fertilization but none of it had worked. Worse, they had been on the adoption list for two of those stressful years.
“You said you’d find us a baby,” Dana screeched, “but you’ve done nothing to help us. And now there’s a baby we could have and you won’t give him to us.”
Brianna understood their desperation, but Dana’s emotional state worried her. The woman was obsessed with having a child to the point that Brianna worried about placing one with her.
“I’m sorry, Dana, but Ryan is not up for adoption.”
Dana crossed her arms, tears glittering in her eyes. “Why not? His mother is dead, and he has no father. And don’t forget, I grew up in this town. I know that Natalie’s family is gone now.”
Grief for Natalie was still so raw that Brianna’s throat thickened with emotions. The fact that Natalie had been anxious her last few weeks and seemed frightened gnawed at Brianna. Women dying during childbirth were uncommon these days. Had Natalie really had heart failure?
“You know I’m right,” Dana said, her shrill voice yanking Brianna from the worry that something hadn’t seemed truthful about the doctor’s explanation.
“I understand that you’ve waited a long time, Dana, but Natalie asked me to be guardian of her child, and I promised her I would.”
“You would be taking good care of him if you gave him to us,” Dana pleaded.
“But Natalie wanted me to raise him.” Brianna reached for Dana to calm her, but Dana jumped up and paced across Brianna’s office, her anger palpable.
“Listen, Dana, I know you’re desperate, but we’ll find you a child. I promised Natalie that I would raise Ryan, though. Natalie was like a sister to me. I have to keep that promise.” Besides, the moment she’d held the newborn, she’d fallen in love with him.
“That little boy deserves to have a mother and a father, Brianna, and you can’t give him that. You’re not even married.”
Brianna sucked in a sharp breath. “Dana, I’m not going to argue with you. I’ve already legally adopted Ryan. Believe me, it’s what Natalie wanted.”
“It’s what you wanted,” Dana said in a high-pitched voice. “You’re selfish. You took him for yourself even though you know he’d be better off with two parents. You act like you care and that you’re some Goody Two-shoes, but you don’t give a damn about Robert and me. You’re only thinking about yourself.”
“Dana, I will keep looking and find you a child. I promise. Maybe we can find a private adoption—”
“We can’t pay thousands for a baby and you know it,” Dana cried. “That’s why you have to give us Ryan.”
Brianna stood, her voice firm. “Dana, Ryan is my child now, and no one is going to take him from me.”
D ERRICK M C K INNEY SETTLED into the chair at the Guardian Angel Investigations Agency, his mind heavy. Now he was back in Sanctuary, North Carolina, he had to visit Natalie Cummings’s grave and pay his respects.
But visiting any grave after his last case was going to be a bear. He still couldn’t get the image of the child’s small tombstone out of his mind. If he’d only been sooner, figured out that the mother was lying….
Footsteps sounded from the upstairs of the old house that had been converted into a business, and Gage McDermont strode down the steps. Derrick hadn’t seen him in ten years, but Gage still exuded confidence and authority.
Derrick had read about Gage’s departure from the Raleigh Police Department and how he’d found Leah Holden’s little sister Ruby a few months ago when she’d gone missing, and was glad to hear Gage had opened his own agency.
The fact that Gage had focused his investigative services on missing children had been a big draw. The fact that, at the agency, he wouldn’t have to play by the rules was another major plus.
To hell with rules. They could be too damn confining.
Although he wasn’t sure Gage would want his help. They hadn’t exactly been friends in school. Gage had been the popular jock whereas he’d been the sullen bad boy on a Harley.
“Derrick McKinney, good to have you here.” Gage extended his hand and Derrick stood and shook it, surprised not to find any hesitation in Gage’s tone.
“Thanks for bringing me into the agency.”
“Are you kidding?” Gage grinned. “I know your reputation, McKinney. Your specialty is missing kids and that’s what we do here.”
Except the last one which had ended badly, and he’d received some bad PR from it. “Yeah, but you saw what happened on my last case.”
Gage’s smile faded slightly, but understanding lit his eyes. “I don’t go by rumors. Besides, I know how the job goes. We have to be tough to do it, but we’re only human. We can’t get them all.”
Derrick’s throat closed with emotions he didn’t dare show, and words he dare not say. He’d learned a hard lesson on that case.
Never trust a woman. Pretty eyes, tears and seductive voices could lead a man astray real fast.
“Thanks,” he finally said.
Gage gestured for him to follow him up the stairs. When they reached Gage’s office, Gage offered him a drink, but Derrick declined. For a few days after he’d found that kid’s body, he’d drowned himself in booze.
Then one day he’d realized that drinking himself to death was too easy. He needed a clear head to remember what he’d done wrong, and he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it.
Over the next hour, they reviewed office business, salary, benefits and other candidates Gage had brought into the agency. Slade Blackburn, agent. Benjamin Camp, a computer and tech specialist. Levi Stallings, former FBI profiler. Brock Running Deer, an expert tracker. Caleb Walker had special skills that he didn’t elaborate on. Colt Manson, a guns and weapons specialist. And he was trying to recruit a woman named Amanda Peterson, a renowned forensic anthropologist. Caleb and Colt hadn’t started yet, but Levi, Ben and Brock were on board.
“Do we have a case now?” Derrick asked.
Gage fingered a file. “Not at the moment. I sent Slade Blackburn to recover a young teenager who ran away. He called and will be bringing her back soon.”
“Sounds good.”
Gage nodded. “Yeah. The mother is a local, Carmel Foster. She’ll be thrilled to have her daughter, Julie, back home with her.”
“That’s what it’s all about,” Derrick said. “Connecting families.”
A smile curved Gage’s mouth. “Exactly. But we’re still growing the agency. I’d like you on board.”
Derrick shrugged. “Hell, a few days off won’t hurt me. But I am ready to go back to work, just in case you’re wondering.”
“I have no doubt.” Gage stood. “In fact, that’s why I wanted you here now. Leah and I plan to take a little second honeymoon. Ruby is staying with a friend. I need you to hold down the fort.”
“I appreciate the opportunity,” Derrick said. “I won’t let you down.”
Derrick shook his hand again, then strode down the steps and walked out into the cool December air. Christmas was coming, the town was lit up with decorations, winter on its way.
But the holidays had never been high on his list. He’d seen too much over the years, had lost faith too damn long ago to think about singing Christmas carols or shopping.
Besides, he had no one to shop for. No one to celebrate with. No one to share a cozy dinner or decorate a stupid tree.
And that was fine with him.
He climbed in his Jeep, stopped by the florist, picked up a bouquet of lilies, and drove to the cemetery on the edge of town. The little white church needed paint, but vibrant colors from the stained glass windows danced in the waning sunlight across the parched grass and dead leaves. Snow fluttered from the sky in a light downfall, sticking to branches and painting the graveyard in a soft white that made the grounds look almost ethereal, a contrast to the sadness there. A small blue sedan was parked in front of the church, and he wondered if it belonged to the minister or another visitor, but dismissed it without thought.
Tugging his coat around him, he walked through the cemetery searching for Natalie’s marker. Sprays of flowers circled a grave in the distance, and he instantly realized it had to be hers. A lone figure stood beside it, burrowed in a coat, head bowed.
He hesitated for a moment, then curiosity overcame him, and he picked his way through the rows of graves until he was close enough to see the figure more closely.
The woman wore a long black coat, and as she leaned forward to place the flowers in the vase at the head of the marker, he spotted a bundle in her arms.
A baby wrapped in a blanket.
The two of them looked like angels in the midst of the snow, like a mirage so beautiful it couldn’t be real.
Then she turned to leave, and he sucked in another pain-filled breath.
It was Brianna Honeycutt, Natalie’s best friend. Brianna, beautiful Brianna. Brianna with the raven hair and sky blue eyes. Brianna with a voice that sounded like sugar and spice and everything nice. Brianna with skin like a porcelain doll, and a body like a goddess.
Brianna who’d never wanted anything to do with him.
Her face registered shock as she spotted him, and instant regret slammed into him. He’d never had the courage to talk to her when he was young.
Then he’d slept with her best friend, a night that was a blur. Natalie had been in Raleigh, and they’d run into each other at a bar. He’d been upset about a case, and she’d had a sympathetic ear.
Too many drinks later, and they’d ended up in bed. But they’d both known it meant nothing and had gone their separate ways.
Judging from the glare Brianna sent him, she knew exactly what had happened that night and didn’t think too highly of him.
His gaze dropped to the baby, and shock hit him. Brianna had a child? He hadn’t heard that she’d gotten married.
A quick check to her finger and he saw there was no ring.
“You have a child?” he asked, wondering who Brianna was involved with.
She hesitated, her look wary, then stroked the baby’s dark blond head. “I adopted Natalie’s son. It was what she wanted.”
A knot settled in his gut. He had kept up with the town through the online news and knew that she’d died in childbirth. “Of course.”
Then the date of Natalie’s death flashed into his head, and the months fell away as he ticked them off in his head.
The dark blond hair…Hair just like his.
Was it possible that that baby was his?
B RIANNA CLUTCHED BABY R YAN to her, a frisson of alarm ripping through her at the sight of Derrick McKinney.
That same feeling of hopeless infatuation she’d felt as a young girl followed. Hopeless because he’d never even noticed her.
Just as she remembered, he was tall, muscled and broad-shouldered. The wind tossed his wavy dark blond hair across his forehead, snow dotting his bronzed skin. His eyes were the color of espresso, a magnetic draw to them that made her body tingle with want. She could still see him dressed in all black, tearing around the mountain roads on that Harley.
Sexuality leaked from his pores just as masculinity radiated off his big body. But even as need and desire swirled through her, fear sank like a rock in her stomach.
He suddenly stalked toward her, his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as they raked over her and settled on the bundle in her arms.
She’d wondered who the baby’s father was, and had feared it might be Derrick, but Natalie had insisted he wasn’t. Besides, he hadn’t been in Natalie’s life the last nine months, nor had he attended the funeral, so she’d assumed that if he was the father, he didn’t want anything to do with the little boy.
“Brianna.”
She stiffened. His voice sounded rough and deep, the sensuality in his tone igniting desire inside her.
She had to get a grip. Had to steel herself against him. He’d slept with her best friend— not her .
And she couldn’t forget it.
Tears pricked her eyelids as she zeroed in on the bouquet in his hands. He’d even brought Natalie fresh flowers.
Lilies—Brianna’s favorite.
Natalie had loved roses.
God, she was pathetic. Jealous over her friend because Derrick had obviously loved her.
He cleared his throat. “I was sorry to hear about Natalie. How tragic.”
Brianna couldn’t speak. Instead she swallowed back tears. As if the baby overheard the reminder that his mother was gone, he whimpered and began to fuss.
“I know how close you two were.” He shifted awkwardly on the balls of his feet. “This must be really hard for you.”
She nodded. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. I miss her every day.”
His gaze dropped to the fussing baby in her arms. “So Natalie had a little boy?”
Brianna took a deep breath and tugged the blanket over his face to ward off the wind. Or was it so he couldn’t see the little boy’s face? “Yes.”
“What about the father?” Derrick’s voice warbled slightly over the word father .
Wariness filled Brianna, and she rocked the baby, trying to soothe him. “He’s not in the picture.”
Derrick’s broad jaw tightened. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” Brianna said, trying to stick as close to the truth as possible. “Natalie never told me.”
Surprise registered on Derrick’s face. “I thought you two shared everything.”
At one time they had. But Natalie had glossed over the details of that night with Derrick. And the last few weeks she’d acted strangely, secretive, even shut her out.
Because Derrick was the father of her son? Because she knew it would hurt Brianna even more to know that Natalie shared a child with the only guy she had ever wanted?
“W HAT IS THE BABY ’ S NAME ?” Derrick asked.
Brianna licked her lips, snowflakes dotting her silky shoulder length hair. “Ryan. It was Natalie’s father’s name.”
He nodded. The Cummings family had been a surrogate to Brianna.
A stiff wind picked up, swirling snow, leaves and dried pine straw around them. Brianna shivered, the baby’s cries escalating.
“I’d better get him out of the weather,” she said. Then she gave a pointed look at the flowers. “And I’ll leave you alone to speak to Natalie.”
Cuddling the crying infant to her, she dashed past him, picking up her pace and practically running toward her vehicle. He frowned, a knot gathering in his stomach.
Brianna had always avoided him, but for a moment, he thought he’d detected fear in her eyes.
No, not Brianna. She was as sweet as they came.
Too sweet for his badass ways back then, and too sweet now.
Don’t trust a woman, his inner voice warned. Didn’t you learn your lesson before?
He walked over and knelt at Natalie’s grave, then laid the spray of flowers on the top. “Natalie, is that little boy mine? And if he is, why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
He turned and watched as Brianna sped away, and anger began to simmer inside him. He’d never considered having a family, especially a child. Had never thought he’d be any good at it.
But if that baby boy was his, he’d find out.
B RIANNA WAS SHAKING AS SHE drove back to her house, but with the snow thickening, she forced herself to drive slowly and to avoid the dangerous patches of black ice.
What if Derrick was Ryan’s father?
Would he want the baby?
An ache rolled through her chest at the thought of having to give up the little boy she’d come to think of as her son. Yet at the same time, guilt pressed against her chest.
She loved Ryan and as his adoptive mother, she had to think about his future, to put him first. She’d never known her own father.
Didn’t Ryan have a right to know his, especially if the man wanted to be in the picture?
She parked, gathered Ryan from the backseat, rocking him as she rushed to her house and unlocked the door.
The wind sent the chimes into a soft musical symphony, her front porch swing swaying in the breeze. The wreath she’d hung on the door reminded her of the upcoming holiday, that this was a special time of year. Natalie had loved Christmas.
For Brianna, it had meant lonely nights, holidays without gifts, a reminder that her mother had dumped her on the doorstep of an orphanage and never looked back.
But Natalie had treated her like family, and her parents had included her in their family celebrations, making memories that had changed her life. She and Natalie had decorated cookies together as kids, had created handmade ornaments and strung popcorn for the tree.
Natalie would be missed.
Brianna would carry on those traditions with Natalie’s son, and make sure he knew his mother’s love.
Ryan’s cries escalated. She flipped on a light and rushed to get him a bottle. He calmed as he ate, and stared at the twinkling Christmas tree lights as if mesmerized by the bright colors. She had bought a crib for the spare bedroom, so she changed his diaper and settled him into the baby bed.
Exhausted herself, she went to her room across the hall, then pulled on warm flannel pj’s and climbed in bed.
But worry kept her tossing and turning for hours, her nights filled with memories of the orphanage and the friend who’d left her behind.
Then other images taunted her. Derrick’s big masculine body. Derrick looking at her with desire. Touching her. Wanting her. Making her his.
Finally she fell into a deep sleep, but a noise jarred her awake.
The baby crying…. He was probably hungry again.
She shoved the covers aside, jammed her feet into her slippers and pulled on her robe, then knotted it at the waist and shuffled across the hall.
Night shadows streaked the walls, then suddenly the silhouette of a man bled into view, and her heart pounded. He was in the nursery, leaning over the crib.
Panic shot through her. He was going to take Ryan!
Lunging into the room, she shouted at him to stop, but he scooped up the baby and turned toward her. He wore all black and a ski mask, the only visible part of him was his eyes. Dark eyes that bored into her like lasers.
“Put him down,” Brianna said. “Please just leave him alone. He’s just a baby….”
He stalked toward her, his hulking form menacing as he shoved her aside. She grabbed his arm to stop him and get Ryan, but he swung his fist up and slammed it into her face. Her head snapped back, but she sucked in a sharp breath, terror streaking through her as she ran after him.
He raced toward the stairs, and she clawed at his back and shoulders, but he jerked her arm and flung her down the steps. She hit the wall, bounced over the ridges of the staircase and landed in a puddle at the bottom of the steps, the room spinning.
Clutching the baby to him, he vaulted over her. Panicked, she grabbed wildly at his ankle, determined not to let him escape.
“Let go, you bitch.” With a snarl, he swung his foot back and slammed it into her nose. Blood spurted, pain rocked through her and the room swirled.
Choking on a sob, she struggled to crawl after him. But he kicked her again, and she lost the battle and collapsed into the darkness.
Her last thought before she passed out was filled with pure terror—she’d just lost Natalie’s son.
Chapter Two
Derrick jerked awake, sweating and panting for breath. Images of that last case had haunted him all night. He could still see that tiny grave, hear the father’s choked cry, the mother’s scream of denial.
That dream had blended into another—memories of his own father tormenting him as a kid, beating him to a bloody pulp, making him feel worthless.
He stood, wiped the sweat from his brow and went to the window. Daylight was barely dawning yet it was always night in his mind, night filled with dark thoughts of that case and the mess he’d made of it.
All because he’d let his past get in the way. Let himself believe the mother’s story that the kid’s father was abusing him. Easy to believe. It happened every day.
But in the end, he’d been wrong. The mother had been the abuser.
Her tears had fooled him.
Never again.
He had to stay detached.
The snow dotting the tree branches reminded him of Brianna holding that baby at the graveyard the night before. Of the question nagging at him.
Could that little boy be his son?
Hell, if he is, he’s probably better off without you. What do you know about fatherhood?
Zilch. Except that he didn’t want to be like his old man. And he didn’t want some kid thinking he’d deserted him, either.
What kind of mental scars would that give him?
Hissing in frustration, he strode to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked bloodshot, worry lines fanning around his mouth, the remnants of the nightmares still in his gaunt expression.
No, if that baby was his, he wouldn’t hurt him like his father had hurt him.
Dammit. He’d find a way to be the man, the father, the kid deserved, even if he had to take lessons to do it.
And damn Brianna. If she knew the baby was his son, why hadn’t she contacted him and told him?
Another woman—another deception. It seemed to be par for the course. Women liked to play games. But he was no player.
He took a quick shower and dressed, then grabbed his weapon and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans. As he went out the door, he tugged on his jacket and slogged out through the snow. A glance at his watch told him it was only 6:00 a.m. Brianna might not be up. Then again, babies awakened early, didn’t they?
The snow flurries were dwindling, yet the spiny branches of the trees were coated in white, and dark storm clouds hung heavy in the sky. Gears ground as he chugged up the mountain road toward Brianna’s, grateful he’d had snow chains put on the Jeep. The winter wind whistled through the car as he parked in her drive. Squinting through the fog at the small log cabin, he frowned as he noticed her front door stood ajar.
Why would her door be open in cold weather?
Instincts honed from years on the job kicked in, and he removed his gun and climbed out, his gaze scanning her property as he slowly inched toward the porch.
He didn’t see anyone lurking around, but still kept his eyes peeled as he neared the front door. A glance inside made his stomach knot.
Brianna was lying on the floor at the bottom of the steps unmoving.
Good God, what had happened?
Adrenaline kicked in as he ran toward her and knelt to check for a pulse. His own clamored as he waited.
A second later, he exhaled in relief. She was breathing.
He placed his gun on the floor beside him, pulled his cell phone from inside his jacket and punched 9–1-1.
“This is Derrick McKinney,” he told the operator. “Send an ambulance to Brianna Honeycutt’s house. She’s unconscious and it looks like she took a fall.”
“I’ll get an ambulance out there right away,” the operator said, then asked for the address.
Derrick gave her directions, then snapped his phone closed, and brushed Brianna’s hair from her cheek. “Brianna, can you hear me?” He gently shook her, turning her face sideways to check her injuries.
The bruises on her face made his gut clench.
She hadn’t just fallen. Someone had hit her.
Anger churned in his gut, then panic slammed into him. The house was quiet. Too quiet?
Where was the baby?
His heart pounded as he vaulted to his feet and searched the downstairs, then raced up the steps. He spotted Brianna’s bedroom on the left, then a guest room across the hall with a crib inside. He hadn’t prayed in ages, but he said a silent prayer that the baby was safely asleep in the crib.
But when he looked inside, the baby was gone.
T HE SOUND OF A MAN ’ S GRUFF voice penetrated the fog enveloping Brianna, but a screeching sound trilled in the distance, compounding the pain hammering in her head.
“Brianna, can you hear me?” Soft fingers stroked her cheek. “It’s Derrick McKinney. I need you to wake up and talk to me.”
She moaned, but slowly roused, and tried to open her eyes. Where was she? What had happened?
“Brianna,” he said a little more harshly. “Please. I need you to talk to me.”
Panic and fear pummeled her as reality returned. Oh, God…the baby.
“Ryan…” Tears choked her, and she pushed at the floor with her hands, desperate to get up. “The baby…a man…he broke in and took him.” The room swirled as she lifted her head, and pain rocked through her again, sending nausea in waves.
“Easy,” Derrick urged. “You’d better lie flat until the EMTs get here. You might have a head injury.”
“No, I’m okay.” She had to drag in a breath to stem the nausea. The room twirled, and she closed her eyes and willed herself not to get sick on him. “Just help me to the couch.”
He eased her onto the sofa, then knelt beside her. “Tell me where it hurts,” he said.
“I’ll be fine,” she claimed through gritted teeth, “but he took Ryan.” She clutched his arm with an iron grip. “You have to find him, Derrick. You have to.”
“I will,” he declared softly. “Just tell me what happened. What do you remember?”
She massaged her temple, struggling to recall the details. “I put Ryan to bed after I got home and then went to bed myself. Later, I heard him crying, and went to the nursery, but a man was standing over the crib. Then he grabbed Ryan and started to leave.”
“Did you see his face?”
She shook her head. “No, it was so dark, and he was dressed in all black and wearing a ski mask. The only thing I saw was his eyes.” A shiver rippled through her, and she slowly sat up. “He had cold, mean eyes.”
He stroked her arm as if to calm her. “Then what happened?”
“I tried to stop him, but he hit me, so I ran after him. I caught his arm on the steps, but he threw me down them. Then he ran by me on the stairs.” Tears leaked from her eyes and rolled on her cheeks. “I grabbed his ankle, but he kicked me in the face and chest. I was dizzy but I tried to get to him, but he kicked me again and I must have passed out.”
She dropped her face into her hands. “Oh, God, Derrick…Ryan is gone and it’s all my fault.”
D ERRICK TRIED TO STEEL HIMSELF against the torment in Brianna’s voice, but if there was one emotion he understood, it was guilt. And hers was genuine. No act.
Her sobs tore at him, and he couldn’t resist. He pulled her into his arms and held her. It was a cop thing to do, a human comforting another. He’d done it a thousand times on a case.
But never had the person’s pain made him ache inside like a knife had ripped open his heart.
And never had he felt so connected with anyone in his life.
The thought scared the crap out of him.
The connection had to do with the missing baby—the baby he thought might be his.
Grasping onto that reality, he gently lifted her away from him. “Brianna, I have to call the sheriff.”
“What time is it?” she whispered.
His expression turned grim. “A little after 6:00 a.m. What time did you wake up and hear the baby crying?”
She swiped at the tears streaking her pale, bruised cheeks. “I’m not sure, maybe four, four-thirty.”
A siren wailed outside. About damn time, Derrick thought. She could have died before help arrived. If he hadn’t stopped by, she might have been lying there for hours.
He stood and reached for his phone. “I’ll meet them and call the sheriff. We need to issue an Amber Alert.”
“Yes, of course.” She clutched his hand. “Please, Derrick. We have to act fast.” She caught her lip with her teeth on another sob. He wanted to console her again, but time was of the essence.
She leaned back against the sofa looking stricken as he hurried to meet the ambulance. The paramedics jumped from the vehicle, and walked toward him.
“We got a 9–1-1 call.”
His training kicked in. “Yes. Brianna Honeycutt was attacked by an intruder during a baby kidnapping. The perpetrator knocked her unconscious before he escaped. She’s awake now, but probably has a concussion. And she may be going into shock.”
The medic in the lead nodded. “And you are, sir?”
He produced the ID that Gage had given him. “Guardian Angel Investigations. Before that, I was with the Raleigh P.D., Special Victims Unit.”
The medic nodded. “We’ll check her out and prepare to transport her to the hospital for tests and observation.”
“Thanks. I’ll call the local authorities to report the kidnapping.” He breathed in the early morning cold air, needing to clear his head as he punched in the sheriff’s number. On instinct, he’d immediately programmed into his phone the pertinent numbers he’d need in the area. He’d done his homework, too, and knew that Beau Cramer had taken over as sheriff after Charlie Driscill had resigned. He didn’t know the full story there, but he would find out. Driscill’s resignation had something to do with Gage and his wife Leah, but he hadn’t pushed yet. But if it pertained to a case, he would.
Friends with Gage or not.
“Sheriff Cramer.”
“Sheriff, this is Derrick McKinney of Guardian Angel Investigations. I’m with Brianna Honeycutt at her house. You need to get out here. She was attacked, and the baby she adopted was kidnapped.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.” Derrick phoned GAI to inform Levi he had a case, then snapped his phone shut, and went back inside to check on Brianna. Hopefully, they hadn’t wasted too much time while she was unconscious.
Every second, every minute counted.
And every one that passed meant their chances of finding the baby decreased exponentially.
B RIANNA DIDN ’ T WANT MEDICAL treatment now. She wanted to scream and shout and cry.
She wanted to find her baby.
Pain robbed her breath. She might not have given birth to Ryan, but he was hers.
Only what if Derrick was the father…?
And if he wasn’t? What if the birth father found out about Ryan and decided to take him from her? What if he’d been the man in the house?
But why sneak into her house in the middle of the night? Why not come forward and claim his son? DNA tests could have been done….
Unless there was something about him, maybe a criminal record that would keep a judge from giving him custody? Or if he wanted to get rid of the child.
That horrible possibility sent nausea rolling through her again.
Damn Natalie. Her friend should have told her the truth about the baby’s father. And if she was in danger, she should have confided the reason.
“Miss Honeycutt.” The medics introduced themselves as Adam and Joe. “We need to check you over.”
“I’m okay,” Brianna said. “I just need to find my baby.”
“One step at a time, ma’am,” Adam said. “Let us check your vitals and transport you to the hospital for tests.”
“I don’t want to go the hospital.” Hysteria bubbled in her chest. “My son is missing. I have to find him.”
The medic gave her a sympathetic look but coaxed her to lie back down on the sofa. The other one brought an ice pack for her cheek. “I understand, ma’am. But you’re injured, and we need to do our jobs. Mr. McKinney has called the sheriff.”
Fear overwhelmed her. “But my baby could be anywhere by now….”
The medics exchanged looks, then Adam strapped on a blood pressure cuff while Joe listened to her heart. Frustration knifed through her, but she finally conceded and let them do their jobs.
Another siren wailed in the distance, and Derrick jogged outside to meet the sheriff. By the time they came inside, the medics were insisting that Brianna go to the hospital.
She gave Derrick a determined look. “I’ll sign a release. I refuse to go the hospital.”
Derrick’s dark gaze met hers while Sheriff Cramer folded his arms. Cramer was shorter than Derrick, and stockier. The last time she’d seen him had been at Natalie’s funeral where he’d seemed quiet and withdrawn.
“Brianna, are you all right?”
“No,” she responded. “Someone kidnapped Ryan.”
“We want to take her for tests,” the medic explained. “She probably has a concussion and may have some cracked ribs.”
“No. The only thing they’ll do for a concussion is to tell me to rest,” Brianna said. “I’m not going to the hospital.”
“Brianna,” Derrick urged.
She threw up a warning hand, cutting him off. “What I need,” she declared firmly, “is to find Ryan. Now let’s stop wasting time and do it.”
The medics exchanged frustrated looks, but Derrick finally nodded. “I’ll bring her in later if I think she needs it. You guys can go now.”
She signed the release form and sighed in relief as they left. Her head and ribs were the least of her problems. The pain in her heart was robbing her breath.
Sheriff Cramer sat down in the club chair beside the couch. “Tell me what happened.”
Brianna repeated the story, this time on autopilot.
“We’ll find the baby,” he assured her. “I’ve already issued an Amber Alert. Can you describe your attacker?”
She shook her head. “Not really. He was medium height, beefy, wore dark clothes and a ski mask.”
“Did he say anything?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let go, you bitch.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see what kind of car he was driving?”
“No,” she whispered. “He broke in while I was asleep. I chased him down the steps but he knocked me out. I never made it outside.” She drew in a deep breath. “Why would someone take Ryan? I don’t have any money.”
“How about the baby’s father?” Cramer asked.
Brianna’s gaze shot to Derrick. “I’m not sure who he is.”
“But he could have come after the baby.”
She shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“The baby might be mine,” Derrick said, his jaw tight. “I want to run a DNA test.”
Cramer’s brows shot up in surprise. “You might be the baby’s father?”
Derrick gave a clipped nod. “You need a crime unit out here to check for forensics. Maybe this guy left a stray hair or fiber or a print.”
“He wore gloves,” Brianna said, despair weighing on her.
“I’ll get GAI to set up a trace on the phones,” Derrick commented. “In case the kidnapper calls wanting a ransom.”
Beau stood. “This is my town, McKinney. I’ll run the case.”
“I don’t intend to get into a pissing contest with you,” Derrick countered. Good God, the man was years younger than him and probably green when it came to this type of work. “Finding missing children is my specialty, Cramer. It’s what I did in Raleigh, it’s what I’m doing at Guardian Angel Investigations now.”
Cramer puffed up his chest. “I can handle it.”
Derrick grunted. “You’ve only been sheriff, what—three or four months? Have you ever worked a child abduction?”
Cramer gritted his teeth. “No, but I’m perfectly capable.”
“Then you’ll let me work with you,” Derrick said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Cramer and Derrick stared at each other for a tense moment, but finally Cramer must have realized the futility in arguing and excused himself to call the crime unit.
Derrick joined Brianna on the couch. “Brianna, we have to examine all possibilities. Finding out who Ryan’s father is may be the key.”
“There’s a baby brush upstairs,” she said, knotting her hands.
He touched her hand to calm her. “I’ll get it in a minute. But I need to ask you something else. Is there anyone in town who might want to hurt you by taking Ryan? Do you have any enemies?”
Her first instinct was to say no. But the memory of her encounter with Dana Phillips flashed back, and her gut clenched.
“You thought of someone, didn’t you?” Derrick asked.
Brianna hesitated. She hated to throw suspicion on one of her clients, especially one so vulnerable and desperate for a child. But that desperation could also prove to be a motive.
“Brianna, tell me the truth. Who are you thinking of?”
“This young woman I’ve been working with,” she answered quietly. “She and her husband have been trying to adopt, but we haven’t found a baby for them.”
“You think she might have kidnapped Ryan?”
“I don’t know,” Brianna replied. “I hate to accuse her and her husband. I’m supposed to be helping them.”
Derrick gripped her arms. “Listen to me. If they’re innocent, you can apologize. But every second we hesitate gives the kidnapper a chance to get farther away.”
She bit her lip but nodded. “Dana was upset with me yesterday. She wanted me to give her custody of Ryan. She said two parents were better than one.”
Derrick shot up from the couch. “Give me their names and address.”
Brianna scribbled down the information, her pulse racing. If the Phillips couple had taken Ryan, at least she knew he was safe, that they wouldn’t hurt him.
But if they hadn’t, then some madman might have Ryan.
And there was no telling what he might do.
Chapter Three
Derrick jogged up the stairs, found the baby brush, plucked a couple of strands of hair from it and bagged it to send to the lab.
He found a Q-tip in the bathroom, swabbed his mouth and placed the swab in another bag, hurried down the steps, then stopped in front of Brianna. “I’m going to call the tech specialist at GAI and place a trace on your home phone, and have him forward any calls to your cell as well so we’re not stuck here waiting.”
She nodded and gave him her home and cell numbers, then he stepped outside to meet the sheriff. “Cramer, will you send this to the lab with the CSI team and have them run the DNA for a paternity test?”
Cramer frowned but agreed. “Where are you going, McKinney?”
Derrick shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. “I just got into town. I have a couple of things to take care of.”
Cramer narrowed his eyes. “What kind of things?”
Derrick debated whether to tell him the truth. But if the sheriff showed up at the Phillipses’ door, they might panic and run. Unless they’d already left town…
He’d check them out on his own.
“I have to meet my boss before he leaves town. And I’m going to get a trace put on Brianna’s phone, and have her calls forwarded to her cell in case the kidnapper calls.”
“You’re working for Gage McDermont?”
Derrick nodded. “He and Leah are going on a second honeymoon. I need to fill him in on what’s happened.”
“You’re not holding out on me, are you?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize this case.”
“Did Brianna give you some idea who might have kidnapped the baby?” Cramer asked.
He shook his head. “No. What’s your next move?”
Cramer glanced at the woods. “I’ll call in some deputies from the county and form a search party to check any abandoned houses and cabins in the woods.”
Derrick nodded. “I’ll ask Brock Running Bear from GAI to help with the search. Check the hotels, too.”
Cramer pulled at his chin. “I planned to.”
Derrick strode to his car, climbed in and started the engine. He hated to leave Brianna alone, but she should be safe with the sheriff there. And the clock was ticking. He quickly called GAI. Ben agreed to set up the trace and have Brock join the search parties.
Early morning sunlight filtered through the trees, glistening off the snowpacked ground and mountaintops as he drove toward town. The Phillips couple lived in a small ranch in one of the older subdivisions on the edge of Sanctuary, a redbrick with neatly trimmed boxwoods lining the front. A fenced-in yard encased the back. He checked for a dog, but didn’t hear one barking or see an animal as he glanced around the corner of the house.
The lights were off, and he wondered if the Phillipses were still in bed, or if they’d already left for work. Suddenly a light flicked on at the end of the house in the front room, and he stepped to the side to look inside, and saw a man in the kitchen.
He debated on whether to confront the couple, or stake them out, and decided on the latter. He crept back to his car and slipped inside so he could watch the front.
If they exited with the baby, he’d catch them red-handed.
B RIANNA SAID A SILENT PRAYER that the Phillips couple had Ryan. At least she would know that he was safe, not with some dangerous child molester or someone wanting money.
Money she didn’t have.
And if Derrick wasn’t Ryan’s father, who was? Natalie hadn’t mentioned being involved with anyone else. Although Natalie had always been freer about sleeping around than she was.
In fact, she was shocked when Natalie turned up pregnant. Her friend had always been careful and insisted she didn’t want to settle down.
Sheriff Cramer strode back downstairs. He’d been showing the CSI team the nursery. They were dusting for prints and combing the rooms and stairs for evidence.
Arms folded, he crossed the room to her. She was still resting on the couch and pulled her robe tighter around her, anxious for the men to leave so she could shower and dress. Maybe by then, Derrick would call.
Or return with Ryan.
“Brianna, I know McKinney asked you this, but can you think of anyone who’d want to kidnap the baby?”
She shook her head. Natalie had seemed worried at the hospital. But maybe she’d imagined that fear.
“You don’t happen to have some money stowed away somewhere? Maybe an inheritance?”
A sarcastic laugh escaped her. “No, I grew up at Magnolia Manor,” she said. “Mother left me there when I was seven. Never knew my father.” She fiddled with the strap of her robe. “And if I did have money, I’d donate it to Magnolia Manor to help the other needy kids.”
“Do you have a picture of the baby? I’ll need it for the media and so I can fax it to the Web site for the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children.”
She’d taken dozens in the last six weeks. Had even bought a new digital camera so she could download them to her computer.
“Yes.” She pushed herself up. “Let me get you one.”
She walked over to the table, then glanced at the assortment of photographs. First the one from the hospital the night Ryan had been born. Another photo two weeks later in a sailor’s outfit. Another the next week in a baseball hat. But her gaze rested on the photo she’d snapped the week before.
She’d propped Ryan up in the infant seat, and dressed him in a soft blue terry cloth sleeper. The picture showed his pale blond hair, his toothless grin and his chubby cheeks. He’d already changed from birth. In fact, he seemed to change every day.
Grief assailed her. Natalie was missing it all. But she’d trusted Brianna to care for him, and she’d let her down. What would happen if they didn’t find Ryan soon?
He might change so much she wouldn’t even recognize him….
Swiping at fresh tears, she handed the picture to the sheriff. “Here, this one is the most recent.”
“I’ll get it sent ASAP.” He offered her a tight smile. “Try to hang in there, Brianna. I’ll send a deputy here to watch the house if you want.”
She shook her head then hugged her arms around herself. “No, I’m fine. Besides, if that man had wanted to kill me, he would have. He obviously just wanted the baby.”
“Now we just have to figure out the reason,” the sheriff said. “And wait for a ransom call.”
Brianna twisted her hands together, praying the kidnapper would phone. Or that Derrick found Ryan first. That he brought him back safely and this nightmare would end.
C AREFUL NOT TO LET THE neighbors see him, Derrick slumped in the seat as two of them pulled from their driveways and passed his car.
The cold seeped through him, but he’d long ago grown used to stakeouts. He just wished he’d brought a thermos of coffee to warm his hands and stave off the exhaustion weighing on him from lack of sleep.
Finally the front door of the Phillipses’ house opened, and a man dressed in jeans and work boots carrying a hard hat stepped out. A woman stood behind him in a thick bathrobe, tears streaming down her face. The man shouted something he couldn’t distinguish, then turned and stormed toward his car. When he climbed inside, he slammed the door and took off, speeding from the drive as if he wanted to escape. The woman slammed the house door, then disappeared inside.
Derrick frowned. It appeared the couple was having marital problems. Maybe arguing over whether or not they should have kidnapped the baby?
If they had, why would they stay in town? Why wouldn’t they have disappeared?
They would have to know that Brianna would confide about her altercation with them and the sheriff would check them out.
He needed to talk to the husband alone, but first he wanted to see if the baby was inside, so he remained parked, watching. A half hour later, the woman appeared at the door again, this time dressed and wearing a long black coat. The snowfall had ceased, but the driveway had accumulated a couple of inches of snow, so she slowly picked her way to the car.
She wasn’t carrying a baby, and he didn’t see a child’s seat in the car, either.
Maybe she had a sitter inside?
Or what if she had hired someone to kidnap the baby? She could be meeting with him later to pick up Ryan.
Although at the moment, she didn’t have a diaper bag or any supplies with her. And she didn’t bring a suitcase, so she wasn’t leaving town.
She might be desperate, but she probably knew Brianna would send the sheriff to her door, so decided to lay low and wait until the dust settled, then connect with the kidnapper afterward. That would be the smart thing to do.
He kept his head down while she veered onto the street and waited until her car had cleared the corner. Then he slipped from his vehicle, crept along the side of the house to the back. Beside the stoop, he found a laundry room window, jimmied it open and climbed inside.
Instincts alert, he hesitated in the doorway joining the laundry room to the kitchen, listening to make sure no one was inside.
But an ominous silence filled the house.
He combed through the kitchen, searched the cabinets to see if the Phillipses had stocked up on baby formula, but found nothing. In the same vein of thinking, he checked the living room, bathroom and two bedrooms—looking for baby paraphernalia, diapers and baby toys—and found a book of baby names where several had been circled. A white bassinet sat against the wall, but it was empty except for a stuffed lamb lying inside.
Was this bassinet for Ryan?
He needed to talk to the couple. But first he rushed to the desk and searched their computer and business records for any financials indicating they’d hired someone to kidnap Ryan.
What he was doing was illegal, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Too often he’d had to wait on warrants and the perp had escaped. It was damn nice not to have to play by the rules.
A S SOON AS THE SHERIFF AND crime unit left, Brianna phoned her office, explained what had happened, and arranged for another social worker to take over her workload until Ryan was found. Then she dragged herself into the shower and washed off the stench of her attacker. She shampooed and dried her hair, then dressed in jeans and a thick sweater, her heart aching as she glanced at the empty crib.
The first week after Natalie had died, she’d been too grief-stricken to do anything but buy the essentials. A baby bed, a cradle for the downstairs, car seat, bottles, diapers, toys and baby clothes. When she’d cleaned out Natalie’s apartment, she’d found a few onesies and baby clothes Natalie had already purchased along with an infant bathtub, diaper bag and baby book.
Brianna hadn’t been able to open the baby book yet.
Still, she’d vowed to Natalie that her son would know how much she’d loved him.
What if she never got the chance?
Pain gnawed at her insides, but she willed herself to be strong. Derrick and the sheriff would find Ryan. She couldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to believe anything else.
And she had to admit that it was comforting to have Derrick working on the case.
By the time she descended the steps, she heard a pounding on the door and Derrick calling her name. She rushed to let him in, but disappointment filled her when she saw the bleak expression on his face.
“What happened?”
Snowflakes swirled with the wind, and he quickly stepped inside, stomped his boots on the mat and closed the door. “I didn’t talk to the Phillips couple.”
“Why not?”
He ushered her into the living room. “I wanted to watch them first. To see if they had the baby. They didn’t.”
Brianna’s stomach caved. “If they don’t have him, who does? Some child predator? Someone who wants money that I don’t have?” She hadn’t realized how much she’d banked her hopes on the fact that Dana had Ryan and was taking good care of him.
That he wasn’t in danger from a crazed, cold-blooded killer who might take money, then kill him anyway.
Derrick stroked her arms. “Listen Brianna, I’ve worked these cases before. If they kidnapped Ryan, they obviously hired someone else to the job which means they’re planning to meet him later. I waited until both of them left home, then searched the house.”
Her hopes skyrocketed. “What did you find? Evidence they’d paid someone or were preparing for Ryan?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Not exactly. There is a crib in the house, and a book of baby names. But no formula, diapers or supplies to indicate they were expecting a baby right away. And their financial records didn’t indicate a recent large withdrawal as if they’d paid a kidnapper.”
She sank onto the sofa. “But they could be meeting the kidnapper out of town?”
“It’s possible, although neither left with a suitcase. If they’re smart though, they’ll probably wait a few days before making the connection.”
She grabbed his arm, adrenaline kicking in. “Then we have to talk to them now. Dana is emotional. Maybe she’ll break down and tell me where he is.”
Derrick’s look turned skeptical, but they had no other leads and she had to do something. “Please, Derrick. I know Dana is on the edge. She wants a baby so badly she’s unstable. Maybe if I talk to her, woman to woman, she’ll open up.” Either that, or the woman would hate her.
But at this point, she didn’t care. All that mattered was finding little Ryan. Because if Dana didn’t have him, someone else did.
And for once in her life, she couldn’t waste time playing nice.
H E CURSED AT THE SOUND OF THE baby crying from the backseat. “Hush up, kid. I’ll get you out soon.”
He swung the car into the motel parking lot, circled around to the backseat and unbuckled the kid, then picked him up. The baby’s cries escalated to a blazing crescendo, and he jiggled him up and down. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered. “It’s so not worth the cash.”
With the key he’d pocketed earlier, he strode down the row of rooms, and let himself inside.
Candy, his girlfriend, lay stretched out on the bed, blowing at her hot red fingernails reading a magazine. When she looked up at the screaming infant, she pursed her lips. “I can’t believe you brought the brat here.”
“You have to take care of him, sugar, until we can drop him off.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She stood, hands on voluptuous hips. “I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby.”
“Then learn.” He gestured toward the bag of baby supplies he’d stowed earlier. “Get him a bottle and take him. I gotta make a call.”
She frowned and made a pouty look, but did as he said.
Shoulders straightening, he stepped outside with his phone and punched in the number. “I have the baby. It’s done.”
“And Brianna Honeycutt?”
“She woke up and tried to stop me. I threw her down the stairs, but she’s alive.”
“Damn. If she keeps asking questions, we’ll have to get rid of her, too.”
“You have a plan?”
“Yeah. We’ll kill her, then fake a suicide note where she confesses that she dropped the baby at an orphanage because she couldn’t handle the kid.”
“And she cried kidnapping to throw suspicion from herself?”
“Exactly.”
Laughter boomed from his chest. That sounded like a plan that would work. They’d drop the kid, get rid of the problematic woman, take their money and run.
Chapter Four
“Where does Dana Phillips work?” Derrick asked.
“She’s a receptionist at the insurance office in town.” Brianna stewed over whether she believed the young couple would resort to kidnapping. “And Robert is the head of the construction team building those new cabins on the east side of town.”
“They were arguing when he left the house,” Derrick said. “Maybe their fight had to do with the baby.”
“Or it’s possible it had nothing to do with this and the kidnapper is long gone.”
“There hasn’t been a call?” Derrick asked.
Brianna shook her head. “No. I can’t figure out what the kidnapper wants.”
Derrick’s silence added to the anxiety knotting her insides. “I’ll talk to Dana.”
“I’m going with you,” Brianna stated.
He paused, his look filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re up to that, Brianna? You have a concussion, and the medic said you probably cracked some ribs.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I can’t just sit here and wait, Derrick. I’m going crazy.”
“All right. But if you start to feel bad, let me know.”
Brianna agreed, grabbed her coat and purse, and they hurried to his Jeep. The temperature had dropped, and she burrowed in her coat, but the chill inside her had nothing to do with the weather. Images of Ryan crying, cold, in the hands of a madman taunted her.
Christmas lights and decorations glittered in town, decorative snowflakes and wreaths adorning the storefront windows, and red bows had been tacked on every streetlamp and sign. It would be a picture perfect Christmas with the snow blanketing the town.
Except that a kidnapper had escaped and a tiny little baby was missing. Her son.
“There’s the insurance office,” Brianna said.
Derrick swung the vehicle into a parking space in the square, jumped out and circled to the passenger’s side to help her, but Brianna was already pushing open the door and getting out. He took her arm to steady her as they dodged an icy patch on the sidewalk, and climbed the two steps to the office door. A Santa had been painted on the window, advertising that he would bring savings in your stocking with a life insurance plan.
Derrick opened the door, and Brianna spotted Dana sitting at the front desk typing on the computer. When Dana saw Derrick, a wariness darkened her expression.
A frisson of guilt attacked Brianna. If Dana hadn’t kidnapped Ryan, accusing her was cruel. But Dana was their only viable suspect right now.
“Brianna, what are you doing here?” Dana asked.
“I have to talk to you.” Brianna lowered her voice. “Ryan has been kidnapped, Dana.”
Dana’s eyes widened. “What?”
Brianna gestured to the bruises on her face. “Someone broke into my house early this morning, knocked me unconscious, then took the baby.”
The color drained from Dana’s face. “My God, that’s horrible. Do you know who did it?”
For a brief moment, Dana stood as if to console Brianna, then her expression changed as if she realized the reason for their visit. “You can’t think that I had something to do with this?”
Derrick cleared his throat. “Mrs. Phillips, my name is Derrick McKinney. I’m with Guardian Angel Investigations and I’m trying to find the baby. If you know something, please tell us now.”
“ If I know something,” Dana echoed shrilly. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’d come here like this, Brianna. First of all, you were supposed to help me adopt a baby, then you adopt the first infant that comes along, and now you have the audacity to accuse me of kidnapping.”
“Please, Dana,” Brianna pleaded. “I’m just trying to find Ryan. I…don’t know where to turn. You were really upset with me yesterday and you said you wanted Ryan.”
“I did,” Dana said. “And if you find him, I still think he’d be better off with me and Robert. After all, you had him and you let someone take him from your home. What kind of mother are you?”
B RIANNA SHUDDERED AS IF SHE’D been slapped. Derrick gritted his teeth at Dana’s statement, his suspicious nature kicking in. Could she have arranged to have the baby kidnapped to make Brianna look like a bad mother to give her ammunition for a custody case?
That sounded drastic, but the young woman didn’t actually seem stable. Had her obsession with wanting a child pushed her over the line?
“Mrs. Phillips, we’re not accusing you of anything,” Derrick explained. “But if you do know who kidnapped the baby, it would be in your best interests to tell the truth. Give him back, and we can make a deal not to press charges.”
“I didn’t take the baby,” Dana declared, her voice filled with fury. “Now get out of my office and don’t come back.”
Derrick gripped Brianna by the arm, then tossed his business card on the woman’s desk. “Call me if there’s any way you can help us.”
He led Brianna out into the cold, trying to decide his next move.
“She hates me now,” Brianna said in a pained voice.
“She’ll get over it.”
“But she’s right. I let Natalie and Ryan down.” She turned to search the streets, then looked toward the steep mountain ridges. “What if he’s out there somewhere with a crazy man, someone who won’t take care of him?”
“Don’t go there, Brianna, it won’t do any good.” He ushered her to the car, and they settled inside. She huddled in her coat, and he started the car and flipped up the heater. “The sheriff is organizing a search party for the mountains. If the kidnapper is holed up around here somewhere, we’ll find him.”
“And what if he’s long gone?”
“Then the Amber Alert should help.” He reached over and squeezed her hand.
“So what do we do now? Just wait?”
“Let’s talk to Dana’s husband. Maybe he can shed some light on the truth.”
Brianna clasped her hands in her lap as he drove to the construction site. The crew had temporarily ceased work due to the snowstorm, but they found Robert Phillips in the office of an on-site trailer. Through the window, Derrick noticed Phillips pacing. He was obviously agitated.
Derrick knocked and opened the door before the man could answer. When Phillips saw them enter, he frowned. “I’ll call you later, Dana,” he said. “Try to calm down.”
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