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“You do?” He scooted toward the edge of his seat and leaned toward her, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I have to,” she said. “Look at the note.” She glanced at the coffee table and the cryptic message lying there. “It starts, ‘I know you...” She paused for effect. “Whoever she is, don’t you think she knows me?”
He sank back in his seat. “It says ‘I know you, meaning you, anyone in the general public.” His arm swept out in a broad gesture. “She was begging whoever found the baby not to let anything bad happen to her.”
“It was intended for me. If it wasn’t me, if she was just leaving her baby at any door, why didn’t she leave her at yours? You’re two flights easier to get to with a big box than I am.”
“Good point,” he conceded, his eyebrows rising as he straightened. “But that may have also been to get the baby away from the front door of the building. Her mother may have been protecting her from blasts of cold.”
Lori felt her conviction waver. She had a feeling he was a very good lawyer.
“That also means she was in the building for a little while. Someone may have seen her. We can—”
“No.”
He looked startled by her interruption.
“If we start asking questions, someone will report us,” she said quietly. “Believe me, I thought about it. I thought about going around and talking to the neighbors this morning. But then someone would tell and we’d have to leave.”
Andy scowled at her until she grew uncomfortable. “You’ve thought about who her mother might be?”
What started as a nod turned into a no. “It’s another reason I can’t tell anyone,” she explained. “Her mother, whoever she is—” Lori smoothed a silky curl of the child’s dark hair “—is in serious trouble now. Won’t she be a criminal for deserting her child? Couldn’t she go to jail?”
“She could,” he agreed. “It depends somewhat on the circumstances.”
“I don’t want her mother in trouble.”
“The court will take her situation and motivation into consideration. She may be very young,” he offered as an example. “Technically, she didn’t endanger the child.” He grinned.
Good grief, he could make her heart stop with that smile.
“She left her in good hands,” he continued.
“Oh, I wish I thought so,” Lori wailed. “Oh, please, you have to help me with that, too,” she begged. “I feel so lost. I have no idea how to take care of her. You seem to know about babies,” she added hopefully. “Will you tell me everything you know?”
Visibly taken aback by her outburst, the man beside her quickly regained his equilibrium. “You haven’t been around babies before?”
“You can’t tell?” Her dry tone brought back his killer smile.
“There weren’t any babies in the foster homes you lived in?”
“Well...” She grimaced. “There was a tiny one like this once, in one home,” she said, “but we weren’t allowed to touch him. Only the real kids could touch him.”
“The ‘real’ kids?”
She felt impatient with him, reluctant to talk about this. “You know. The kids who belonged there. The family’s real kids.”
“You were never asked to help take care of him?”
“Not that one. Sometimes, in homes where there were older babies—you know, walking and starting to talk—we had to help. But, that I can remember, I’ve never been around or even held a tiny one like this. Oh, and—” the whole conversation suddenly reminded her “—this baby still has that thing on her belly button.”
“The umbilical cord?” he asked.
She nodded. “Should I be doing something special about that?”
“I’ll show you later,” he offered.
“Does it hurt her?”
“No.” He reached toward her, then hesitated and dropped his hand to the yawning baby instead. “But it tells us she’s only days old,” he said with the same awe she felt in his voice.
The rush of warmth Lori felt toward him was scary. She looked at him and hoped he couldn’t see the stars she was certain were in her eyes. She couldn’t seem to help it Mr. Andrew McAllister was such a perfect mixture of practical knowledge, awe and concern, he intrigued her almost as much as the baby did. If she wasn’t careful, she could have a bad case of drop-to-her-knees hero worship on her hands.
“How do you know so much?” she asked as a caution bell went off in her mind. “Do you have children?”
His finger lingered on the baby’s tiny hand. She batted at it, then curled her miniature fingers around his until he tugged. Her little hands flailed. “I’m the oldest of three kids, and my mom and dad were both from large families.” He made gripping and tugging his finger a game with the baby. “I can’t remember a time when there weren’t babies around. Either new cousins, or nowadays, nieces and nephews. Someone always has a baby, it seems.”
“But not you?”
He grinned. “Not yet, though I plan to have my share eventually.”
She looked away, sorry she’d asked. She didn’t want to think of him with a wife and kids. Conversely, she realized it would be safer dealing with him if he was married with a baby or two of his own.
“I’ve decided to name her Kris,” she said quickly. Her voice sounded breathless. “You know, for Santa’s other name, Kris Kringle. This is the best Christmas present he ever left me.”
Andy opened his mouth, then closed it.
His troubled gaze made her anxious again. “You don’t like it? It can be Kristine or Kristina.”
“I think Kris suits her perfectly,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear. “It’s getting very late.” He stood abruptly. “You and the baby should both get some rest.”
“I know.” She felt drained. Reaction, she knew, from the roller coaster of emotions she’d been on all day. “But we need to—”
“Tomorrow,” he interrupted. “We can’t do anything tonight anyway. I just wanted to check in and see that you were okay.”
She touched Kris’s face gently, then rose to stand beside him. “I forgot to ask. How did your thing go?”
“Okay, I guess.” He made a face. “Do you need anything before I go?”
She shook her head. “I definitely have to go shopping for her tomorrow, though,” Lori said. “I don’t think I can keep washing one outfit out while she wears the other.” She wrinkled her nose again. “But we’re okay for the night, I think. We seem to be getting into a little routine.”
He nodded wordlessly.
“Do you have any idea where I should put her to sleep? This afternoon, I put her on my bed, but—”
“You need a bed yourself. Make her one on the floor,” he suggested. “A couple of blankets under her, one over. She’ll be fine.”
“Thanks.”
He jammed his fingers in the back pockets of his jeans, looking hesitant to leave after all. The way he looked at her made her want to squirm or fill the silence with babble. Or both.
With a lengthy, clearly audible sigh, he swiveled and strode quickly to the door. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he promised.
She hurried after him, nodding to his back. Her nerves were jumping crazily again. “You don’t work tomorrow?”
“My calendar’s clear until after the New Year.” He faced her. “We’ll have plenty of time to work on this little problem...and to teach you anything you need to know,” he added reassuringly. His hand hovered near her face, then dropped to his side. “Get some sleep, Lori. See you both in the morning. Night, Kris,” he called, winking at Lori as he firmly closed the door between them.
Lost in a reverie and a mishmash of emotions, she fingered the dead bolt instead of slipping it into place. She started when a soft tap sounded. He’d forgotten something. She smiled.
“You didn’t look to see who it was,” he lectured as she widened the gap between the door and its frame.
“Who else is going to be wandering around outside my apartment at this time of night?”
“Someone leaving babies.”
His quip widened her smile.
“Here.” He handed her a card. “You might need my number. I wrote my home phone on the back,” he added as she studied the front. “But if you need me, they’ll page me any time you use the front number.”
“Thanks.”
“And Lori...”
She looked up at him. The dark eyes mesmerized and confused her all over again.
“Don’t hesitate to use it. Okay? Day or night. For anything.”
“Okay.”
This time he closed the door softly. She didn’t move until she heard his footsteps go down the hall several long minutes later.
Nightmares! The woman, the situation, the whole damn day yesterday had given him nightmares.
And somewhere in there was the governor’s dinner!
Andy dragged a hand across his face, trying to wake himself up. The phone rang and the sluggishness vanished.
“McAllister,” he answered gruffly.
“Andrew?”
“Mom.” As pleased as he was to hear from her, he felt a letdown. He should be relieved it wasn’t Lori Warren. She wouldn’t call unless there was a crisis. But leftover wisps of the nightmare made him antsy and uneasy.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, Mom, I haven’t made it out of bed yet, but I was awake.”
“Sorry,” she said but didn’t fool him.
He couldn’t help but smile. The clock said ten after eight. Veronica McAllister thought staying in bed past daybreak was a sinful waste of time. Right now, she was probably patting herself on the back for rescuing him from an extreme case of sloth.
“So? Are you going to tell me? I’m dying to know how the governor’s dinner went last night.”
“I’m trying hard not to think about it,” he told her. Not whitewashing a thing, he gave her the dirty details, including his less than optimistic thoughts on his chances at getting the judicial appointment. “I think he planned to talk to me during the cocktail party,” he finished. “I was consigned to the far end of a massive table and the other candidate in attendance got the governor’s undivided attention during dinner.” Her indignant sympathy eased his disappointment.
Since the third candidate was not in attendance, the governor either knew him well—another strike against Andy—or the other candidate would be scrutinized on some other occasion.
“Why did you miss the cocktail party?”
“Something came up with a new client,” he told her.
“Maybe you’ll get another chance to meet with the governor.”
“Maybe,” he agreed skeptically.
“Well, the office is officially closed until after Christmas. That should help.”
He kept his doubts to himself this time.
“When will you be home? You are going to stay a few days?”
Andy sat up on the side of the bed and heavy-handed his face again. “Listen, Mom, I haven’t really thought about it. I’m only—”
“I know you’re only ten minutes away, but Allison will be here with her kids tomorrow. Now that she and Jeff have moved to Texas, we don’t get to see them often enough. Is it wrong for me to want all my children and grandchildren under one roof for a couple of days?”
“Will you settle for twenty-four hours?” Andy asked. “I promise, I’ll stay at least one night while Allison’s family is here. When is Melanie bringing her family over?”
He heard his mother sigh. “Christmas Eve.”
“Then plan on me then, too.” He was finally awake enough that his mind was working. “Is there something you wanted me to help you with, Mom?” He’d bet that was the reason she wanted him there earlier than everyone else.
“I could use help hanging the greenery,” she admitted. “Since John’s hip surgery, I don’t really—”
“I’ll come by this afternoon,” he interrupted. Making the promise and doing the work would be easier than trying to convince her Christmas would come whether or not she hung holly and ivy over every inch of space in her high-ceilinged rooms. “I don’t really want him on a ladder, either.”
He heard her sigh. “That’s a load off my mind, Andrew. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mom.”
“But why don’t you just stay?” she couldn’t resist hounding him.
“The friend...the new client I mentioned is going through a bit of a crisis. I need to be available.”
“We do have a telephone.”
“I know, Mom, but—”
“A friend or a client?” Veronica broke in, picking up on his slip of the tongue. “Which is it?”
He realized he’d been thinking of Lori Warren as more than a client since the minute she’d drawn him into her dilemma. How many people would be so willing to take someone else’s problem and make it their own? Change their whole life to accommodate it? He admired Lori’s determination. He admired the caring he suspected had taken her by surprise. The more he knew, the more he admired. “Both, I guess.”
“Is this a case I know about?” She almost didn’t wait for his no before she continued, “A female?”
His mother was far too quick at reading things that weren’t there into other things. “Yes, Mom, but she’s a client.”
“And a friend,” she reminded him. “Exactly what kind of problem is she having?” She sounded wary on his behalf.
“She’s a client, Mom. You know I—”
“Oh, I get so tired of all of you reverting to that client-privilege thing when you don’t want to tell me something. Why do you think I continue to work at the office as a receptionist a couple of days a week? So you don’t legally have that excuse,” she answered her own question.
Andy chuckled. Over the years, Veronica McAllister had been the sounding board for the ever-growing number of attorneys in the family. By mixing her keen sense for putting things into proper perspective with the ability to be dumber than a rock when warranted, she’d proved herself a valuable, hidden asset to the firm.
“I definitely will tell you about it later,” he promised, then added, “Shoot, before this is over, I suspect the whole world may know about this baby.”
“She has a baby?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Her voice rose. “Either you have a baby or you don’t.”
“Mom.” He’d said too much. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Mom?” he said again when there was silence on the other end of the line.
“It isn’t yours, is it, Andrew?” she asked.
“I promise. I’ll let you know when I decide to have kids, Mom,” he said dryly, then gently turned the screw. “Besides, aren’t you the one who keeps hounding me to have kids?”
“I want you get married first.” She was carefully indignant.
“You don’t always say that,” he taunted her.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that again,” she promised. “I will be very specific in the way I phrase my nagging from now on.”
“Do that. I’ll see you later, Mom,” he said, then hung up quickly before she could think of another array of questions and demands.
His smile died as he looked at the clock again. It was past time he checked in on Lori Warren and baby Kris.
He must be as crazy as she was, he decided as he took a quick shower and dressed. The woman didn’t have an inkling how to take care of a newborn. If something happened to that baby...
The horrid dreams that had plagued him on and off all night surfaced to haunt him again. He knew they were purely a product of his imagination. He knew her throwaway remark about the need to leave was just that—a throwaway remark—but that didn’t help. When he was dressed, he didn’t even take the time to make a cup of instant coffee. Surely Lori would have coffee made.
By the time he made it to her door, he’d managed to calm himself again...until he knocked and didn’t get the slightest response.
He listened for a minute and didn’t hear a sound inside. Maybe they were both still asleep. He hesitated knocking again.
No, newborns didn’t sleep this long into the morning. His sisters’ kids were always up at daybreak. His light tap received no response. He pounded harder. Still no answer.
Increasing the tempo and the intensity, this time he also called her name. “Lori.”
“Is something the matter?”
Andy jumped a foot. He didn’t recognize this neighbor. With her hair in rollers, he wasn’t sure he would know the older woman even if they’d met before.
“Do you know Lori Warren?” He automatically pointed to her door.
“Sure.” The woman looked ready to launch into a history lesson.
“Have you seen her this morning?” he asked hurriedly to forestall it.
“No, but I heard her coming and going in the wee hours of the morning. Woke me up.”
An alarm went off inside him. “What time was that?”
“Around one o’clock.”
He breathed easier. The woman had probably heard him leaving.
“Then again around three-thirty or four. I couldn’t believe she was out and about so early. Nothing would have been open.”
“But she’s here now, don’t you think?” He was frowning, knew he’d added the “don’t you think” for his own benefit.
“Don’t know.” The woman widened the gap in her door. She wore incongruous fluffy cartoon characters on her feet. “I haven’t seen or heard her this morning.”
He felt her watching as he pounded the door again. Despite the chill in the semiheated hallway, he felt sweat bead on his brow.
“I’m sure she doesn’t sleep that sound,” the woman called over his knocking. “She might not be home. Maybe she went somewhere for Christmas.”
“Thanks.”
She nodded and quietly shut her door.
He leaned against Lori’s. His nightmare had featured a woman with Lori’s voice. He replayed it in his head. The woman called his name. He heard sirens. A baby’s cry. But the woman always remained out of reach, out of sight, hidden. Swamped by the same sense of desperation that had jolted him awake several times during the night, he flattened his ear against the door and listened.
Nothing. Not a single sound from inside. He caught and discarded several ideas about where she could be.
The neighbor’s door opened again. “Listen, I know she was meeting friends in Colorado after Christmas. Don’t think I heard her say when she planned to leave. Maybe she went early,” she offered helpfully, eyeing him with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine. Thanks for your help,” he added again, already dismissing her from his mind.
“Anytime.”
He stopped her again when she started to close the door. “You don’t happen to know what kind of car she drives?”
The woman’s scowl moved the rollers forward on her head as if they had a life of their own. “Some little red thing. I’m not sure what kind exactly but I’ll get my husband if you want. He’d know.”
“That’s okay.” He was going to have to convince the complex manager to let him in her apartment anyway. The kind of car Lori drove would be on the manager’s records somewhere.
The neighbor stared at him another second, then seemed to decide he’d disrupted her day enough and closed the door.
Wearily, Andy eyed Lori’s door again. He’d thought she trusted him. But he hadn’t been very reassuring—obviously not enough anyway. But how could he reassure her? She knew from experience what little Kris could expect if she hit the “system”. Lori’s nightmares were probably more vivid because they were based on reality.
His nightmare had come true. Lori had taken the baby and run.
He pushed himself away from her door and mentally noted a course of action. With help from a few friends in appropriate places, maybe he could find her before any real damage was done, before she was in real trouble.
This offense, he was certain, had a name. If he had to call the authorities in, they would label it kidnapping. Poor Lori Warren would be in trouble as serious—or worse—than the baby’s mother.
With all his heart, Andy wished he’d reminded Lori before he left last night that she couldn’t help little Krissie from a jail cell.
CHAPTER THREE
“SHE’S probably Christmas shopping,” the pretty young manager told him with a bright smile when they couldn’t find Lori’s aged red Ford Escort in the Building Three parking lot.
“I don’t think so,” Andy said. The pit of his stomach felt like he’d swallowed a rock. It flip-flopped heavily. “I don’t think she’s exactly one of Santa’s little elves,” he muttered under his breath. “She doesn’t even have a Christmas tree.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m talking to myself.” Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen a thing in her apartment that hinted she gave a nod to the holidays, not even a Christmas card. The only seasonal thing he’d noticed were those ridiculous holly earrings she’d been wearing. They’d caught his attention because they matched the green of her eyes.
“Just because her car isn’t here, that doesn’t mean something disastrous has happened,” the manager said.
He repressed the retort he wanted to make, refusing to perpetuate the friendly argument they’d started in her office. “No, it doesn’t.” If Lori’d had an emergency and was able to get help, she would have called him.
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