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“Very funny,” Ridge said, shooting her a dry look.
“Want to fill us in on the details?” Sam asked.
Ridge glanced at Darcy and nodded at the door. She closed it quietly to give them some privacy.
It didn’t take long for him to tell the story of finding the baby, but Darcy had to bite her tongue to keep from interrupting him with questions. To their credit, Sam and Annabel merely listened quietly until he had finished talking. Once he was done, the siblings exchanged a glance.
“Where’s the note now?” Sam asked.
“I left it in the car,” Ridge responded. “I didn’t want more people touching it.”
“Good thinking,” Annabel said. “Where are your keys? I’ll collect it and take it in for fingerprint analysis.”
Ridge cocked his hip off the chair and dug into his pocket. “I’m parked in the lot just outside.”
Annabel caught the keys midair. “Saw your truck as we pulled in. I’ll be right back.”
After a moment of silence, Sam let out a sigh. “None of this makes sense,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
Ridge huffed out a laugh. “Tell me about it. I’m the last person who needs to be trusted with a baby.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Sam said, a sparkle of humor showing in his eyes. “You’ve taken pretty good care of that dog. How much harder can it be to take care of a baby?” Once again, his voice sounded forced, as if he was trying to make light of something that bothered him. All at once, Darcy remembered the gossip she’d heard about Sam Colton—how his former fiancée had pretended to be pregnant with his baby so she could con him into marrying her. He’d been about to make things official, but just before the wedding, the woman had been killed—one of the first victims of the Alphabet Killer.
Darcy eyed Sam with newfound respect and a touch of pity. Even though his former fiancée hadn’t really been pregnant, Sam had thought she was and had wanted to do right by his child. How sad for him to find out the truth, especially when he couldn’t confront the woman who had spun that web of lies in the first place.
Ridge offered him a sympathetic smile, and his brother nodded.
“So we have a baby with dark hair and a mother whose name presumably begins with the letter F,” Sam said, his tone making it clear he was thinking out loud. “Hell of a coincidence.”
“I thought so, too,” Ridge remarked.
“The killer has never gone after a woman with kids before.”
They must be talking about the Alphabet Killer, Darcy thought. Did they really think the baby’s mother was a target?
“There’s a first time for everything,” Ridge said. “Besides, we don’t really know how the victims are chosen. Aside from their physical similarities, that is.”
“True.”
The men were quiet for a moment, each one clearly lost in thought.
“And you didn’t find anyone out there today?” Sam asked.
Ridge shook his head. “No signs of Mr. Johansen’s early morning visitor. Or anyone else for that matter.”
“Since you didn’t find a body, we can assume the mother is still alive. For now, at least.”
“Either that, or the killer caught up to her and left her in the woods.”
Sam tilted his head in acknowledgment of the point. “That’s possible. But Penny stopped after finding the baby, right?”
The dog in question cocked an ear at the mention of her name, but didn’t bother to lift her head.
“That’s right,” Ridge confirmed.
“Wouldn’t she have kept going if there was a body around?”
It was a good question, and Darcy found she was curious to know the answer, as well. She’d never been around a search and rescue dog, and had no idea how they worked.
Ridge shrugged. “Presumably she would have indicated if there was another scent around. But she’s not trained as a cadaver dog—she goes after the living, not the dead.”
“We can send out a team to search the area around your cabin. But I don’t think they’re going to find anything.” Sam paced a few steps in the small room, his hands on his hips. “So where did the woman go after leaving the baby? People don’t just disappear.”
“Sure they do,” Ridge replied easily. “You know that as well as I do.”
What does he mean by that? Darcy wondered. Then it dawned on her—his sister, Josie, had vanished a few years ago. Her absence probably weighed heavily on him, since the pair had been close.
Sam frowned at his brother. “Now is not the time to get cute.”
“You know I can’t control it.” Ridge grinned, his dimples prominent even through the dark, heavy stubble on his cheeks. It was the same teasing expression he’d worn so often when they were alone together as teenagers, and it made Darcy’s heart tighten to see it now on the face of the man he’d become.
Sam shook his head, but Darcy saw the smile he tried to hide. “We’ve got to find this woman—she could be the key to unlocking the whole case.” He turned to face Darcy. “Let’s start with what we do know. Do you have any idea how old this baby is?”
Darcy tilted her head to the side, considering his question. “I’d say she’s about one to two weeks old,” she replied. “That range is consistent with her height, weight and reflex responses.”
“Okay,” Sam said. He gestured to the computer workstation in the exam room. “Can you pull up access to hospital birth records during that time frame?”
“I should be able to,” she said. It took a few moments, but she was able to gain access to the records system without much trouble. “It looks like there were nine total births during that period, four of which were female babies.”
Annabel slipped inside the room while Darcy searched. “Good thing you put the note in a plastic bag,” she commented, pushing wet tendrils of hair off her forehead. “It’s really coming down out there.”
“Washing away any traces of the person who left this baby on my porch,” Ridge commented sourly.
“Can you print off the list of parents?” Sam asked, ignoring his siblings.
Darcy slid him a glance. “I really shouldn’t,” she hedged. “It’s a massive patient privacy violation. I could lose my license.”
Sam fixed her with a look. “Do you understand what we’re trying to do here? This baby’s mother is likely the target of a killer. I need that information.”
“It might not even help,” Darcy hedged. “There’s no guarantee this baby was born here. She may have been born at a neighboring hospital, or possibly even at home.”
“Maybe,” Sam replied. “But I have to start somewhere.”
Darcy shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help, but if I do this and I’m caught it’ll wreck my career.”
“You’re wasting my time here.” Sam kept his voice down, but she heard the impatience in his words. He seemed like a man who was used to getting what he wanted and didn’t tolerate anything or anyone getting in his way. Darcy appreciated his determination, but she wasn’t about to be bullied into doing something she knew to be questionable. She was torn, though—what if her refusal to help cost this woman her life? Could she live with herself knowing a woman had died because she was more concerned about her job than doing the right thing?
“Sam.” Ridge’s calm tone cut through the growing tension in the room. “You know she’s right. Don’t ask her to compromise her professional ethics. How long can it take to get a warrant from a judge?”
“Too long,” Sam shot back. He scowled at them both, then shook his head. “But fine, we’ll play it your way.”
Darcy shot Ridge a grateful glance, but he didn’t acknowledge it. “Tell you what,” she said, pushing back from the desk. “I need to go find that bassinet for the baby. It’ll probably take me a moment to track it down.” She deliberately tilted the monitor around so it faced Sam. Recognizing the gesture as the olive branch it was, Sam offered her a tight smile.
“We’ll keep Ridge company until you get back.”
Darcy slipped out the door, her palms sweating. She’d never done anything like this before. Even though she knew giving Sam access to patient information was the right thing to do in this particular case, it still made her nervous.
“He’s a police officer, not some random stranger off the street,” she muttered. Besides, she knew a judge would grant him access to the records. She was just cutting through the red tape, she told herself, and hopefully shortening the time it would take to track down the baby’s mother. It’s the right thing to do. And it was. But Darcy had always been one to follow the rules and this departure from the norm made her feel jittery.
“Everything okay in there?” asked George, the other doctor on shift tonight. “I heard there was quite the ruckus earlier.”
Darcy tried to smile but it must have come across as more of a grimace, as George frowned slightly at her expression. Get it together, she chided herself. Stop acting strange! “We’re doing okay,” she told him. “Someone found an abandoned baby earlier tonight, so we have the police in there now.”
“Oh, man.” George shook his head. “Is the kid okay?”
“Yeah. We got lucky. I’m trying to track down a bassinet for her now.”
“I think I saw one floating around here earlier.” He tapped the desk as if he was trying to remember, then he snapped his fingers. “Yep. Give me just a second.” He trotted off and returned a moment later pushing a Plexiglas crib. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” she said. This time, her smile was genuine.
“No problem. Want me to call CPS for you?”
“Ah, no. I’ll let the police handle that.”
George nodded. “Let me know if you need any help.”
She waved at him and headed back to the exam room, trying to pace herself so as to give Sam the time he needed to look at the patient records. Had she been gone long enough? Hopefully so—she didn’t want to have to do this again.
When she opened the door, three faces turned to greet her. Sam was standing next to Ridge, looking down at the baby. The computer monitor had been returned to its original position, and Sam offered her a nod of thanks. Annabel stood in the corner, her phone pressed to her ear. She offered an absent wave and moved to make room for the bassinet.
“How’s she doing?” Darcy asked quietly.
“Seems to be fine,” Ridge said, his voice low and soothing.
“Are you ready to put her in the crib?”
He glanced down at the baby, his expression softening. “I suppose so.”
Ridge stood and moved back and forth for a moment, instinctively falling into the comforting sway deployed by anyone holding a baby. Then, moving slowly and carefully, he deposited the sleeping bundle onto the mattress. He straightened back up but remained standing by the crib, apparently absorbed by the sight of the infant stretching in her sleep.
Once again, Darcy was struck by Ridge’s actions. To her knowledge, Ridge had never spent time around babies before. Yet here he was, stepping into the role of caregiver as if he’d been born to it. And for a stranger’s baby, no less.
Annabel snapped her phone shut and walked over to join her siblings by the bassinet. “We have a problem,” she said shortly.
Ridge raised one eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“CPS can’t get here tonight—the storms have washed out several of the roads leading into Granite Gulch.”
“Great,” Sam groaned. “So what are the options for tonight?”
“She’ll have to stay here,” Darcy replied. “I can admit her and have her sent to the nursery.”
“Will she be alone?” Ridge asked.
“Not really,” Darcy said, touched by his apparent concern. “The nursery is staffed 24/7, so she won’t be unattended. Just let me put in the order...” She logged back in to the system, but what she saw made her frown.
“What’s wrong?” Ridge asked. “Is there a problem?”
“The nursery is full,” she replied, peering at the screen as if she could change the information displayed there by staring at it long enough. “I don’t believe it.”
“How is that possible?” Sam said.
Darcy shook her head. “We’re short-staffed, which means we can only take on so many babies in the nursery. They’ve already got the maximum allowed number there now.”
“So what are our options for tonight?” Annabel said.
Ridge stared down at the baby, his expression calculating. “I’ll take her.”
“What?” The word erupted from Darcy, Sam and Annabel at the same time.
“You can’t be serious,” Sam said.
“You don’t know the first thing about babies,” Annabel protested.
Ridge looked from one sibling to the other, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Like you said earlier Sam, how hard can it be?”
Both Sam and Annabel turned to face Darcy, their expressions pleading with her to make their brother see reason. “Can you explain this to him?” Sam said.
“Uh, well,” she began, feeling suddenly pressured. “Babies are pretty demanding,” she started. “They need to be fed every couple of hours, which means you won’t get much sleep.”
“Sleep is overrated,” Ridge replied.
“You don’t have any supplies,” Annabel put in. “Formula, diapers, a place for her to sleep. You have none of the things babies need.”
“Be reasonable,” Sam added. “You’re way out of your depth here.”
“I can’t leave her,” Ridge said simply. The words took all the air out of his siblings and they both leaned back on their heels, staring at Ridge as if they’d never seen him before.
“I know it doesn’t make much sense,” Ridge went on. “But this baby is my responsibility now. I’m going to take care of her until we find her mother.”
Annabel turned to Sam. “Is this even legal?”
He pressed his lips together, considering. “I’m not sure. But given the circumstances, I don’t know that we have another choice.”
“So it’s decided then,” Ridge said, sounding determined. “I’ll take her home with me tonight. We can regroup in the morning.”
Sam and Annabel exchanged a glance, and Annabel shrugged slightly as if to say “There’s nothing we can do.”
“If you’re sure,” Sam said slowly.
“I am.” Ridge’s voice was firm, making it clear he would brook no further arguments.
“All right,” Sam said. He turned to Annabel. “I suppose we should get back to the station and get that note to forensics. We’ve got some work to do tonight.”
“Yeah. I think we should bring in Chris, as well—he can start looking for home births.”
Sam nodded. “I want Trevor involved, too. He has access to all the evidence the FBI has on our killer. He can go through the letters and hopefully find some clue that will help us identify the mother.”
Annabel walked over and gave Ridge a quick hug. “Good luck tonight,” she said, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thanks,” he said softly.
Sam clapped his brother on the back. “Call if you need anything,” he said. “We’ll be at the station.”
“Sounds good,” Ridge replied. “Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime, brother.”
Ridge waited until his siblings had left the room before turning to Darcy. “Well, I guess we should head home.”
“Are you sure about this?”
Ridge’s expression didn’t change, but a coolness entered his eyes and she kicked herself for asking the question. “It’s not that I doubt your capabilities,” she said, trying to smooth things over. “But a baby is a big deal.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he said. “And yes, I’m sure I can handle it.”
Darcy held his gaze for a moment, recognizing the glint of determination she saw in his dark brown eyes. Ridge had the strongest will she’d ever known, and if he’d made up his mind to do something, he would follow through regardless of the consequences.
Knowing she’d lost this battle, Darcy decided to do what she could to help. “At least let me send you home with some supplies.”
Ridge nodded, and she spent the next few moments gathering up all the spare diapers and formula bottles she could find. She returned to the room with her arms full of packages to find Ridge had already moved the baby from the crib to the car seat.
“It’s not a lot,” she said, setting everything on the exam bed. “But it should last a couple of days at least.”
“Thank you,” Ridge said. “I appreciate your help.”
“You’re welcome,” Darcy replied. Now that the moment was here, she was strangely reluctant to part from Ridge. Being around him again was unsettling, but a small part of her felt comforted by his presence. Don’t be silly, she told herself. You’re just tired.
“Do you need help getting out to your truck?”
Ridge shook his head and she fought off a swell of disappointment. “I’ve got it,” he said, scooping everything up. “Come on, Penny,” he said.
The dog got to her feet and stretched then looked up at Ridge expectantly, awaiting his next direction.
Ridge turned to face Darcy. “Thanks again,” he said. He took a step toward the door, then stopped and looked back. “It was nice to see you again, Darcy. You take care of yourself.”
“You, too,” she replied softly. She watched Ridge walk away, marveling at the way he seemed to take all the oxygen in the room with him. His absence made her feel both relieved and sad in equal parts. “It’s for the best,” she said to the empty room. “I’m leaving soon, and I don’t need a complication like Ridge taking up what little time I have here.”
It was the truth, but it didn’t help. Even though their relationship had ended years ago, she still felt as if there was unfinished business between them.
Darcy shook her head and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Seeing Ridge had been a shock, but she couldn’t dwell on the past forever.
Time to get back to work.
* * *
“I don’t understand what your problem is. The return policy is printed right there on the receipt—thirty days from the time of purchase. I bought this just last week.” Francine Gibbons arched a brow at the clerk and stared at her, daring her to argue the point.
“Yes, ma’am, I understand that. But the dress has what looks like a wine stain on the skirt. I’m afraid I can’t accept a return of damaged merchandise.” The clerk sounded apologetic, but Francine was not appeased. Did she really not know who she was talking to?
“I’m not going to argue with you about this. I want to speak to your manager.” It wasn’t her fault the dress was ruined—Ted always got a little handsy after a few drinks, and in his eagerness he’d managed to knock over her glass of red wine. The tablecloth at the restaurant had taken most of the damage, but enough of it had gotten on her dress that she wouldn’t be able to wear it again. Best to return it and get something new.
“Ma’am, it’s store policy,” the clerk began, but Francine cut her off.
“I thought I made myself clear. I told you I want to speak to your manager. Why are you still standing here?”
“Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Gibbons?” An older woman glided over, a smile pasted on her face.
Francine shot a triumphant glance at the clerk, who shrank back, looking miserable. “Yes. As I was saying, I want to return this dress. But your employee has been giving me attitude about it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman replied smoothly. “Let me take care of it for you.” She shot a warning glance at the clerk who had opened her mouth, presumably to defend herself.
“It’s just so hard to get good help these days,” Francine remarked, checking her phone for messages while the manager completed the transaction. Then, just for spite she added, “Did you see the new boutique that opened just off Main Street? They have such lovely clothes, and their service is impeccable.”
The manager pressed her lips together in a thin smile. “I haven’t had a chance to visit yet.”
“You really should,” Francine said. “It’s just the kind of store we need in Granite Gulch.”
“How nice,” the other woman murmured. She slid a receipt across the counter, along with a pen. “If you’ll just sign there, please. I’ve credited the dress back to your account.”
“Thank you,” Francine said archly. She scribbled her signature and pushed the paper back at the other woman.
“My pleasure. May I help you with anything else tonight?”
“No, that will be all.” She stuffed her phone back into her purse and tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“Thank you for stopping by. We look forward to seeing you again.”
“Hmm. I might be willing to give you one more chance. But you should really educate your employees, especially when it comes to how store policy applies to a repeat customer like myself.” She shot a final glare at the clerk before turning and striding out of the store.
The nerve of those people! How dare they try to treat her like one of the masses, rather than the premier customer she was. She’d spent thousands of dollars at that store over the past few months. The least they could do was act as though they wanted her business.
Lightning streaked across the sky as she walked under the awnings that lined the storefronts. She frowned, trying to dodge the worst of the puddles so her suede Louboutins didn’t get too wet. She had meant to get home before the storm broke, but people were so incompetent these days and she’d been held up at every store she’d visited. It was almost enough to make her want to hire a personal shopper, but she didn’t trust anyone else to get things right.
“I should make them replace my shoes,” she muttered, still angry with the clerk for having tried to deny her return. “It’s the least they can do to make it up to me.”
She reached the end of the awning and paused to fish her umbrella out of her purse. The streetlamps that illuminated the parking lot were burned out, leaving the stretch of asphalt cloaked in darkness. “This place is really going downhill,” she grumbled, struggling to open her umbrella. “They can’t even be bothered to maintain the parking lot.” She would have to mention it to Jill Winthrop during their lunch next week—her husband was on the city council, and they needed to know this area of town required improvement.
She stepped out into the rain and headed in the direction of her car, peering into the gloom and wishing for a flashlight. A quick press of the unlock button on her key fob caused the lights of her Mercedes to flash, helping guide her through the darkness. The crunch of footsteps on gravel sounded behind her, but Francine was too focused on getting to her car to pay attention.
“Hey.”
She ignored the speaker and kept moving forward, intent on getting out of the rain.
“Hey!”
Francine ground her teeth together and rolled her eyes. She did not respond to such casual greetings, especially from a stranger.
“Francine!”
That was odd. She stopped and turned, trying to see who had called out to her.
A dark figure approached, the person’s body obscured by a large trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat. “Who are—” Before she could get the rest of the question out, the stranger lifted an arm and a loud pop split the air.
Something slammed into Francine’s chest, knocking her off her feet and onto her back. She lay there for a moment, stunned, trying to figure out what had happened. Then the pain hit, a white-hot agony radiating from her chest down through her limbs. “What?” she gasped.
The figure walked up and leaned over her, temporarily blocking out the rain. Francine blinked, trying to recognize the stranger. “Why?” she said, struggling to get the word out through lips that had gone numb.
The killer smiled cruelly. “Why not?”
Francine’s vision began to narrow, but she saw the stranger’s arm come up again. There was another earsplitting pop, and she surrendered to the darkness.
Chapter 4
Ridge paced in front of the bank of windows that overlooked the woods at the back of his cabin, patting the baby’s back with a steady thump.
“It’s really coming down out there,” he observed quietly to no one in particular. As if to punctuate his observation a flash of lightning split the sky, the brightness illuminating the ground and revealing the raging river his backyard had become. “I hope the barn is still standing,” he muttered.