Tenderness softened his dark eyes

Gavin’s breath brushed Lindsey’s cheek as he leaned close to her. “Try to hang in there, okay?”

“Okay.” The look in his eyes destroyed her resolve to remain uninvolved with him.

He had a tough exterior that made him appear fearless. Emotionless. But she knew what it was like for him to lose control. Gavin had deep emotions—feelings he channeled into work instead of sharing with a woman.

“So you’re not giving up?” Lindsey asked, knowing her heart lay in her eyes.

“No.” His fingers wiped away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “You have to trust me, Lindsey. I’ll find our son.”

Saving His Son
Rita Herron

MILLS & BOON

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Rita

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rita Herron is a teacher, workshop leader and storyteller who loves reading, writing and sharing stories with people of all ages. She has published two nonfiction books for adults on working and playing with children, and has won the Golden Heart Award for a young adult story. Rita believes that books taught her to dream, and she loves nothing better than sharing that magic with others. She lives with her “dream” husband and three children, two cats and a dog in Norcross, Georgia.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Lindsey Payne—A woman who has loved only one man in her life—the same man who unknowingly gave her a son. But now their son is missing.

Gavin McCord—A man who thought he was protecting the love of his life by pushing her away. Did he push her into the arms of danger instead?

Dr. William Cross—An old-fashioned doctor who runs a small-town birthing clinic—is he hiding something?

Janet Quinn—The nurse who helped deliver Lindsey’s baby, then disappeared. Could she have stolen Lindsey’s child?

Andy Atkins—A mentally challenged orderly who claims another woman gave birth the same night as Lindsey. But is he reliable?

Lamar Forbes—The sheriff who insists his small town is a haven from big city crime—until someone tries to kill Lindsey Payne.

Christopher Little—A lawyer with a big bank account and a very closed mouth. How far would he go to protect his clients?

JoAnn Haney—Lindsey’s best friend. She’s desperate to have a baby—but how desperate?

Jim Faulkner—Lindsey’s ex-husband. She put him in jail; is he out for revenge?

Yvonne & James Faulkner—Lindsey’s ex’s parents; they hated Lindsey for putting their son behind bars.

Danny Swain—A prisoner who threatened to get even with Gavin. Could he have orchestrated the kidnapping from his jail cell?

Dwight Johnson—His son died under Gavin’s care—could he have taken Gavin’s son as a replacement?

Dear Reader,

What is every woman’s worst nightmare? To lose a child or have a child kidnapped.

Real-life stories about missing children are a common occurrence, yet the mystery, the suspense, the emotions are universal. Every time I see a newspaper article or TV clip or a picture of a missing child, my heart wrenches for the family. And each time, I hope for a happy ending.

Having three children of my own, I can’t imagine missing any part of their lives—so my heart certainly went into writing Saving His Son. But in my version, you get the happy ending…plus a little romance!

Hope you enjoy.

Please write me at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225 for updates on other releases.

Sincerely,

Contents

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

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Your baby is alive.”

Lindsey Payne’s hand trembled around the phone receiver as the hoarse voice faded into nothingness. It was the second time the person had called in two days, the fourth call this week. Could it be possible? Could her son really have survived?

“Who is this?” she finally croaked. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The harsh click of the phone cut her off, jarring her senses into a thousand frayed nerve endings. Just like the other times. Tears spilled out of her swollen eyes as grief consumed her. Her baby would have been six weeks old today. If he had lived.

She’d been so distraught in the hospital the doctor had prescribed sedatives, but by the end of the first week, she’d weaned herself from the drugs and the memories had surfaced. Blurred memories which raised questions in her mind. Someone had tried to kill her in the hospital. At the time she hadn’t cared. She’d been in too much pain to fight.

Later, when she’d told the hospital staff, they claimed she’d been hallucinating. She’d pleaded with the local sheriff to listen, but he’d insisted nothing ever went wrong at Maple Hollow’s birthing clinic. That she should try to move on with her life. And she’d tried.

Then the phone calls had started, making her wonder if her baby was alive. He was out there somewhere crying for her. Needing her.

Or maybe she was going crazy. Maybe someone was feeding off her grief, and she kept hanging on to their twisted words out of a misguided need for hope. But who would do such a horrid thing?

“Lindsey?” Her neighbor JoAnn stood in her den, her face pinched with worry. “I knocked but you didn’t answer, so I got worried and used my key. Are you all right?”

Lindsey nodded, grateful for the numbness settling over her. “I’m fine, thanks for thinking of me.”

JoAnn placed a basket of muffins on the sofa table behind her and moved into the doorway toward Lindsey. “Did you receive another phone call?”

JoAnn’s intuition startled her. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Linds,” JoAnn’s voice broke. “I don’t know who would be so cruel. Maybe you should change your number.”

Lindsey knotted her hands in her lap. “No, if the caller knows something about my baby, I want to talk to them. I just wish whoever it is would stay on the line long enough for the police to trace them.”

The compassion in JoAnn’s expression almost triggered another onslaught of tears. “Why don’t you visit the class today for bike day? We’re taking the kids on a picnic.”

Lindsey remembered the excitement over bike day from her own special needs class the previous school year. She’d taken a year’s leave of absence to stay home with her baby. Now, she wondered if she should return sooner. “It sounds like fun. Maybe I will come by later.”

“I’ll see you there then.” JoAnn turned to leave, pausing in the shadowed hallway. “And Lindsey, try to eat something. You’re getting way too thin.”

Especially for someone who’d recently had a baby.

The unspoken words hung in the air between them. She and JoAnn had joked about the extra pounds Lindsey had gained during her pregnancy. She’d worried she wouldn’t be able to shed them. So far, losing weight hadn’t been a problem.

When JoAnn left, Lindsey headed to the shower, by-stepping the white wicker bassinet she’d purchased for her infant’s arrival home. The pale yellow blanket still lay folded at the foot of the mattress, the Winnie-the-Pooh mobile dangling above the eyelet headboard. She should move the bassinet to the nursery with the other baby furniture but couldn’t bring herself to part with it yet. She’d planned to keep her son in her room at night so he’d be close by when he woke. Now, the empty cradle reminded her of her the aching void in her life.

She should at least move the bassinet to the den so it wouldn’t be the first thing she saw every morning. Inhaling a calming breath, she hauled it to the front room, then hurried to shower. Visiting the school would do her good. The kids needed her. And she desperately needed to fill her time with something besides her own troubled thoughts.

The hot water felt heavenly on her skin as she washed the last strains of fatigue and tears from her face. After toweling off, she pulled on her robe and poured herself a cup of coffee, her gaze resting on the mail that had arrived the day before. The stack she’d been too apathetic to open. The sympathy cards she could no longer bear to read.

A pale blue envelope drew her eye, her stomach clenching at the distinct size and shape. Had someone sent her a congratulations card? Someone who didn’t know about her loss…?

Her vision blurred as she ripped open the envelope and stared at the blue teddy-bear shape. Her baby’s autopsy report had been placed inside. Blood type: O positive. It couldn’t be—she had type A; Gavin, B.

The card fluttered to the floor as Lindsey doubled over. Could the hospital have made a mistake? If even the remotest possibility existed that her son was still alive, she had to find him. An image of Gavin’s handsome, dark features flashed into her mind, the anguish of his parting words even more visceral since she’d lost their son. No, she couldn’t turn to Gavin.

She’d go to the sheriff, beg him one more time to take her seriously and investigate her son’s death.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Sheriff Forbes greeted her with a nod, the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent beneath the glare of the overhead light. His thick gray hair stood in tufts on his head, his bushy eyebrows due for a trim. He needed to retire, to be fishing with his grandchildren somewhere, not running the town. “How’re you doing this morning, Ms. Payne?”

“I’m okay, but I need to talk to you.”

The sheriff gestured toward his office, grabbing a cup of coffee off the scarred linoleum counter as he passed. He offered Lindsey some, but she declined, knowing the caffeine would only add to her shakiness.

“What can I do for you this morning?” Forbes lowered his wiry frame into the vinyl chair behind his cluttered desk, folding one leg to rest across his knee.

Lindsey lay the card on the jumbled mess. “I received another call this morning.”

His eyebrow shot up with concern. “Did you recognize the voice? Was it a man’s or a woman’s?”

“I couldn’t tell, it was too muffled. Then I received this autopsy report in the mail.”

The sheriff wrapped a handkerchief around his fingers, opened the envelope and scanned the contents. “I’ll have it checked out, but I doubt we can trace it. The card is generic, no return address. Probably won’t be any prints either.”

“Even if you can’t trace the card, the autopsy proves my baby is alive,” Lindsey argued.

The sheriff’s gray eyes filled with pity. “It doesn’t prove anything, except that someone’s playing a sick joke on you, Ms. Payne. For all we know this report isn’t even legitimate. Someone could have stolen the autopsy report or doctored it to make you think this baby wasn’t yours.”

“But why would someone go to such lengths? And doesn’t that report make you wonder if something is wrong?”

“It makes me want to find the creep and teach him a lesson for planting false hopes in your head.” He rose, hooking one thumb in his belt loop. “Look, I’ve known William Cross since we were kids. He’s the best doctor in these parts. There’s no way he’d lie to you about something this important.” His voice grew more confident. “Why, he’s delivered half the town and no one’s ever had a complaint.”

“That doesn’t mean something didn’t happen that night,” Lindsey said with conviction.

“Even William was upset over losing your little boy. I haven’t seen him so distraught since Mrs. Cornell miscarried her twins.” His foot jerked up and down. “He hates it when deliveries don’t go smoothly, but he’s only a doctor. Sometimes the good Lord works in mysterious ways. We have to accept his plan.”

Frustration swelled in Lindsey’s chest. “So you won’t consider the possibility this report isn’t real?”

The sheriff’s grave expression infuriated her. “There’s nothing to investigate. I don’t for a minute think William would tamper with medical records. He could lose his license.”

“What about the medical examiner? Isn’t he related to Dr. Cross?”

“Yeah, but you’re way out on a limb. If something had happened with your baby, there’d be witnesses. Don’t you think someone would come forward?”

“There is a witness. The person who keeps calling me. Maybe they’re afraid to come forward.”

Forbes clicked his teeth. “Ain’t a soul in these parts afraid of Doc Cross. Just listen to yourself, sounds like you lived in that big city too long. Crazy things like you’re supposing don’t happen in Maple Hollow.” He moved around the desk to comfort her, but Lindsey backed away, almost stumbling over the small bookcase in the corner.

“Why don’t you let Doc give you some nerve pills or something to help you through this?”

Lindsey turned and headed to the door. “I don’t need pills. I want answers.” Without even looking back, she slammed the door, then hurried outside. Heat rolled off the pavement in waves, sucking the air from her lungs.

But she couldn’t give up.

How many times had she lain awake in the darkness thinking of her son? She could almost feel him in her arms. She could hear him crying for her, she knew he was out there somewhere. He needed her. And if Forbes didn’t intend to help her find the truth, she’d find someone who would.

Gavin McCord’s handsome face flashed before her. Emotionless, calm, a tough cop—afraid of nothing, He would never let anything stop him from doing his job. She wrapped her arms around herself, aching for his comfort, but he was the last person on earth she wanted to ask for help. Although he hadn’t known about the baby, when she’d tried breaking the news about her pregnancy, he’d cut her off as if he’d guessed her news. His parting words haunted her. “I’m not cut out for marriage, Linds. Don’t want a wife or kids—ever.”

Well, that was fine. She didn’t want a husband, either. She’d had one, and he’d been trouble. First she’d discovered his gambling problem, then he’d embezzled funds from his own law firm. When she’d divorced him and decided to testify against him, he’d tried to kill her. Gavin had been assigned to protect her. That last night before she’d testified, they’d both crossed some invisible line…they’d slept together and made a baby. Only Gavin hadn’t wanted a relationship…

She refused to beg for Gavin’s love. But she needed his expertise right now and she would beg him to find her son if she had to.

“ANOTHER CASE well done.” Gavin’s superior, Lieutenant Peterson, slapped him on the back.

Gavin shrugged. “Yeah, one dealer down. A zillion more to go.” He rolled his left shoulder to relieve the throbbing sensation that had escalated in the last hour. He’d taken a bad punch, had a few bruises to show for his work.

“You’re getting cynical in your old age,” Peterson said with a wry laugh.

“Goes with the territory.” Gavin bit off the end of a stale eclair, frowning as the white creme squished out the sides and dribbled over his fingers.

Peterson dropped a folder on his desk. “Get that report on my desk before you leave, McCord. Then what the hell, take a day or two off. You deserve it.”

“Don’t go overboard,” Gavin drawled sarcastically, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I’ve only been undercover for three weeks, with no sleep I might add.”

“You do look like hell,” the lieutenant added.

Gavin rubbed a hand over three weeks’ growth of beard. Too tired to get up, he lifted his booted feet, planted them on the top of his desk and leaned back in his chair as Peterson loped out. He thumbed through the papers, stacking a few of them in his To Do pile, when a plain manila envelope caught his eye. He picked it up and studied the envelope. No return address. No postage meter or stamp. Hmm, odd.

His curiosity piqued, he ripped it open and removed a sheet of paper, his eyes narrowing when he noticed letters cut from a newspaper forming the words An Eye For An Eye. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Who in the hell sent this?”

Not that he didn’t have enemies. Jeez, the problem was he had too many.

LINDSEY STOOD outside the Raleigh police department, her stomach twisting.

Gavin might not relish seeing her or hearing she’d given birth to his baby, but he thought like a cop, acted like a cop. He would take her case. She’d make it plain she hadn’t come to him to resume a personal relationship, the same way he’d made it plain he didn’t want one with her. Other than that one night of incredible sex.

But she wouldn’t repeat her mistakes.

And if Gavin hated her because she hadn’t told him about their son, well…she’d get over it.

Right now, her son was the only person who mattered.

GAVIN WAS STILL contemplating who might have sent the unnerving note, An Eye For An Eye, when the door screeched open.

“Someone here to see you, McCord.”

All thoughts of the anonymous note flew from his mind when Lindsey Payne stepped through the door—what was she doing here? He thought she’d disappeared from his life forever.

Peterson waved her in and left, and Gavin clamped his jaw tight, fighting his gut reaction—lust. Need. Want. For a woman he couldn’t have.

She moved toward him and his breath hitched in his throat. She wore her silky blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the starkness of her high cheekbones. Dark smudges curved beneath her eyes and a denim jumper hung on her slender frame as if she’d lost weight. Her pale complexion alarmed him. Even so, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d dreamed about her too many nights to even count.

Lindsey tipped her head, her smile weak. “Gavin.”

He straightened, instinctively aware something was very, very wrong. Her once vibrant eyes were hollow and empty, sending his protective instincts kicking in. Even when Lindsey had been threatened by her ex, she’d been a fighter. The strange mixture of courage and vulnerability had been one reason he’d been unable to resist her that last night. Now, she looked almost fragile.

“What’s wrong, Lindsey? Faulkner hasn’t been harassing you, has he?”

She sank into the hard wooden chair. “No, not exactly.”

Gavin filled a cup with water and handed her the cup. “Here, drink this and take a deep breath. You look awfully pale.”

“I’m okay.” Lindsey accepted the glass and drank, her hands shaking.

He gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. “Why are you here, Lindsey?”

She bit down on her lower lip, a small nervous laugh escaping her. “Don’t worry, Gavin. This is not a social call. I didn’t come back—”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His heart squeezed at her cryptic tone. The Lindsey he knew never sounded cynical—not like him.

She inhaled a fortifying breath and he gestured toward the door. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

Her brown eyes studied him pensively, and he remembered too late she’d asked him the same question the last time she’d seen him. He’d just testified against a murderer, only the man he’d testified against had threatened retribution to him and everyone Gavin knew. He’d immediately relived his childhood fears. Only this time he wasn’t the kid. He was the man whose loved ones had been threatened. He’d panicked and told her he didn’t want her. Didn’t want a relationship. Marriage. A family. Ever.

“Your office is fine. I came here…to ask for your help.” Her voice sounded stronger, but her fingers fumbled over the handles of her leather purse as if she were reconsidering the idea.

He stroked his beard with his chin, faintly aware her hand followed the movement. “What kind of help do you need? Money? Legal advice?”

“No.” Her eyes darted toward the closed door. “I need your services as a detective.”

“You came here to report a crime?”

“Sort of…yes.” Her back stiffened as if she didn’t know where to begin.

He’d seen the same nervous reaction when she’d confessed about her ex-husband’s illegal activities. “Take your time, and tell me what happened.”

She nodded, seemingly grateful for his encouragement. “I…I had a baby a few weeks ago.”

His heart thundered in his chest, his mind automatically ticking away the months.

The air caught in his lungs.

“But the doctor told me my baby died. I think he may have lied,” she continued in a shaky voice. “And I want you to help me find him. Or at least find out the truth. To find out if my baby is alive.”

The air caught in Gavin’s lungs. He leaned against the front of his desk and folded his arms. “Tell me something, Linds.”

She lifted her heart-shaped face to stare into his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

“Was the baby Faulkner’s, or…was he mine?”

Chapter Two

Lindsey bit down on her bottom lip, her stomach churning. All the way to the precinct she’d stewed over what to tell Gavin. Should she lie? Tell him the baby was her ex’s?

Gavin had claimed emotions muddied a man’s judgment. Would it be better if he didn’t know the truth?

“Lindsey?”

She was a terrible liar. And if he knew the baby was his, maybe he’d search even harder for him.

He leaned so close his breath brushed her cheek. “Is the baby Faulkner’s or mine?”

She looked into his eyes, the dark smoldering depths lurking with questions, and she heard the tension in his husky voice. He deserved to know the truth.

“The baby is yours.”

His dark gaze pierced her to the core. “You’re sure?”

She nodded slowly, her voice low. “He was six weeks early.” She glanced down at her hands and knotted them in front of her. “The last time I slept with Jim was the night before I signed the final divorce papers. He came by to try to make amends. I felt guilty over our failed marriage.” Lindsey shrugged, trying to remember all the reasons she’d given in to Jim that night. The next day he’d threatened her, had thought he’d won her loyalty back, but she’d seen through his manipulation and felt ashamed for letting him use her. She had to testify against him.

“When was that night?”

“Two months before…before that night with you. Besides, Jim always took extra precautions. He was adamant about that…. He…didn’t want children.”

Silence descended upon them with a chilling bleakness. Gavin dropped his gaze to the floor, then leaned back, half sitting, half propping himself on the front of his desk. His dark blue shirt stretched tight across his massive shoulders. “Why…Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to. I called and left messages but you never returned my calls.” Anger, swift and hard, pressed against Lindsey’s vocal chords. “I didn’t expect anything from you, Gavin, not money, not support, certainly not marriage. I know we were both upset about Jim finding the safe house and we let things get out of control. Still, I thought you had a right to know. But you avoided me and when I came to the courthouse…”

“Jesus.” He reached for her, his expression pained, but she shrank away. “I had no idea that’s why you’d come.”

Lindsey stood and backed away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, her voice brittle, “No, don’t…don’t touch me, Gavin. Don’t make excuses.” She let the anger and pain from all those lonely months drive her. “The day I finally cornered you at the courthouse, you wouldn’t even talk to me. I’d even written you a letter, but you said you didn’t want to see me again, that you didn’t want marriage or babies. Ever. So I threw the note in the trash outside the courtroom that day.”

His gaze jerked back to hers, pinning her with the force of his emotions. Hurt, anger, remorse. He started to speak, but Lindsey cut him off.

“I didn’t come here to renew our relationship. I know the one night we shared meant nothing to you, and I didn’t intend to trap you into marriage or make you accept responsibility for a baby you didn’t want.”

A vein pulsed in his forehead, but he didn’t argue.

“I’m not asking anything from you now except to find out if my son is alive.”

“Our son,” he said in a deadly calm voice.

“Yes, our son.” She raised her chin a notch, forcing herself not to think about the pain he might be feeling. “All I want is for you to help me find my son and bring him home. Then we’ll be out of your life. Forever—just like you requested the day I tried to tell you I was pregnant.”

His shoulders went rigid and for a brief minute, fear knotted her stomach. She’d seen Gavin wrestle her ex-husband the night he’d attacked her. But Gavin had never been anything but gentle toward her. He rolled his shoulder as if it hurt, the overly long strands of his hair brushing his collar. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, too. She wondered what kind of case he’d been working on, then felt like kicking herself for caring.

As if he sensed her fear, he suddenly dropped his gaze and walked around to his desk, sat down in his chair and dropped his head forward into his hands. Lindsey caught herself swaying and sank back in the chair. The sound of the clock ticking droned in the background, amplifying the tension between them.

He fiddled with a pen and some paper, avoiding her gaze, then finally replied in a low, controlled tone, “All right. Start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened after you left Raleigh.” When his chin lifted, Lindsey saw the pain in his eyes but she also recognized the calm, take-charge cop who’d protected her after her husband’s attack. The man who’d won her heart with his brooding macho manner. The man who’d broken it later. Had she made a mistake by coming to him for help?

GAVIN’S HEAD throbbed from trying to contain the rage building inside him. But he’d seen the flicker of fear in Lindsey’s eyes and shame had filled him. Her first husband had been a violent man. He had to channel his anger into something productive. Even if he died a slow painful death on the inside.

He had a baby. A son.

A little boy who’d died or been kidnapped before Gavin had even known he existed. He’d left Lindsey alone to deal with the pregnancy, the birth of his child, the baby’s death. He’d sent her away to protect her, yet he’d left her vulnerable and unprotected.

“Tell me everything.”

Lindsey twisted her hands in her lap. “My baby died a few hours after he was born. At least the doctor said he did.”

“What do you mean, the doctor said the baby died? Why don’t you believe him? Did you see the baby? Did he look healthy?”

“Yes, I held him, but they whisked him away because there were complications.”

“With the baby?”

“With me, with both of us,” she whispered, staring at her hands. “I went into premature labor. I developed eclampsia and the fetus was in distress so they had to perform an emergency C-section.” Her hands stilled, straightened, curled to dig into her palms as she struggled with the memories. Seconds later, she continued in a shaky voice, “I had a boy. But I was drowsy from the anesthesia and couldn’t stay awake. The next thing I remember, I woke up and the nurse told me he…he didn’t make it.” She paused again, then met his gaze, her big brown eyes pleading with him to believe her. “I was so hurt, so stunned I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Then I went into shock.”

His throat tightened.

“The doctor gave me a sedative, and I guess it knocked me out, but later that night, I woke up and saw someone in my room. A man…he tried to kill me.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Someone tried to smother me with a pillow. I thought it was the doctor at first—”

“You think the doctor tried to kill you?”

“Yes…no, I don’t know.” Lindsey sighed and shifted in her seat, then tucked an errant strand of hair behind her delicate ear before continuing. “All I remember is that he was wearing surgical scrubs.”

“Did you recognize him? A voice maybe? His eyes?”

“I didn’t see his face, only shadows. It was dark and I was groggy from the pain medicine.” Her face lifted, her eyes big and wide. “But the staff claimed no one had been in my room. They insisted I was hallucinating.”

Which was possible. He’d seen firsthand the bizarre effects drugs had on people. But Lindsey was normally stable, not an irrational female who invented things.

She fumbled with her purse again, her hands trembling as she removed a paper and handed it to him. “A week after I was released from the hospital I started receiving strange phone calls telling me my baby is still alive. This came in the mail today.”

He reached for the file, surprised to find an autopsy report. “You hadn’t seen the report before?”

“No, I asked about the autopsy, but the doctor never showed me the report. He claimed my baby died of heart failure. But the blood type doesn’t match mine or yours.”

A knot of anxiety tightened Gavin’s stomach as he studied her expression. Her story seemed bizarre—could it be true?

“I think someone switched my baby with the infant that didn’t make it. And they tried to cover up the switch.”

“Sounds pretty sinister. Why would someone switch babies?”

A defeated expression darkened her already dull eyes. “Maybe someone kidnapped my baby or adopted him out. Or maybe someone wanted to hurt me or get back at me…” Her voice broke, a wave of tears gushing out.

He ran a hand over his beard stubble, fighting the urge to fold her in his arms. When another tear slipped down her cheek, he lost the battle and actually reached forward. She stiffened immediately and he dropped his hand, trying to decide if she hadn’t accepted the truth about the infant’s death or if the odd events could have happened the way she described. If their child could be alive…

“Did you go to the local police?”

“Yes, but the sheriff in Maple Hollow is as old as Methuselah. He’s been best friends with Dr. Cross since grade school.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “He assured me nothing strange or illegal ever occurs in Maple Hollow. That Dr. Cross would never lie to a patient.”

“You don’t believe him?”

She shook her head. “I’m not imagining the phone calls, Mac. Or the fact that someone sent me this report.”

Lindsey had slipped and used the nickname she’d whispered that night in bed, but she didn’t even realize it. He stared at his dirty boots. He’d break her heart if he investigated and discovered the doctor had told the truth. But they were talking about his son here. How could he not believe her? Not investigate?

He shifted, agitated. “Maple Hollow isn’t in my jurisdiction, Linds. If the sheriff doesn’t suspect any wrong-doing, he won’t welcome a stranger poking around. Besides, missing persons are usually referred to the FBI.”

She stood so abruptly her chair teetered backwards and hit the wall with a loud thump. “Then you won’t help me?”

Panic rolled through him at the wild, stricken look in her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not going to, are you? You think I’m some irrational female. That I’m crazy, that I’m making this up.”

“I never said that either.” He clenched his jaw, lowering his voice to a soothing pitch. “I’ve never known you to be irrational.” And he hadn’t. The woman was made of steel—she taught handicapped kids, for God’s sake. And she’d stood up to her ex-husband in court and in front of the man’s family. She had to be tough. But he’d be crazy to get tangled up with her again. Hell, he’d never gotten over her the first time.

“Will you help me?”

The desperation in her voice tore at his soul. “Of course, I’ll help you. You’re talking about our child.” In his mind he pictured her round with his baby. The pain was so intense his knees almost buckled. “Did Faulkner know you were pregnant?”

Lindsey paused, the strain of the day obviously wearing on her. “No.”

“You’re sure? Have you had any contact with his family at all?”

Lindsey sighed. “His mother phoned me a few times before the trial and asked me not to go through with the charges. Then she called once or twice afterward to try and persuade me to recant my testimony. But after I moved from Raleigh, I never heard from them.”

“So, they didn’t know about the baby?”

“I don’t think so. I moved the day after I saw you at the courthouse.” She toyed with a fingernail. “Besides, I never told anyone the name of the baby’s father.”

Including him. Their gazes met, held. He gritted his jaw, the pain once again almost unbearable. Lindsey threaded her fingers together in her lap, looking tired and drawn and too damned thin.

“What about the staff, you said they didn’t see anyone go in your room?”

“That’s right. Only, I went back the week after I was released from the hospital to talk to Janet, the nurse who helped with my delivery, but she’d taken a leave of absence.”

His voice softened. “Even nurses go on vacation, Linds.”

Her face jerked toward him and he saw fear in her eyes, the same fear he’d seen the night he’d crossed the line from duty to pleasure. The night they’d created a son.

“Maybe, but it seemed odd that no one in town knew where Janet went on vacation. Maple Hollow’s so small everyone usually knows everyone else’s business.”

He mulled over that piece of information, trying to piece together a reason someone might kidnap their baby and make her think the child had died, but guilt slammed into him. If he’d been there to take care of her, maybe he could have prevented her premature labor, or if he’d been at the hospital, he could have seen his son himself, protected him…

“What about the other members of the staff?”

“A terrible explosion occurred that night at a local factory. Except for Dr. Cross and the nurse, all the emergency workers were called to help.” She paused.

“Something else odd, happened, too. I heard a girl crying in one of the other rooms at the clinic.”

“Another patient maybe?”

She threw up her hands in frustration and paced to the window. “I thought so, but the doctor claimed I was the only patient that night, that I imagined the other woman.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure you heard someone else?”

“I’m positive. You know the kids I taught said I had eyes and ears in the back of my head.”

He smiled at the memory. A natural with children, Lindsey would have been a wonderful mother. “Could the woman have been someone from the explosion?”

“No, they transferred all the injuries to the county hospital. The clinic isn’t equipped for major medical emergencies.”

Gavin stood, walked to the window beside her and stared out at the busy street. Thick traffic crawled by, horns honked intermittently, the wail of a siren burst into the strained silence. Sun splashed off the concrete, flickering from a beautiful blue sky. But Gavin had never felt more dismal in his life.

“What’s the sheriff’s take on things?”

“He thinks Dr. Cross invented medicine. He can’t believe anything bad about him.”

“But you’re convinced Cross is involved?”

“I don’t know what to think, Mac, but I feel my son is out there, I hear him crying for me at night in my sleep. I have to know the truth about what happened.”

His gaze dropped to her arms where she’d cradled them around her. His voice softened with sympathy. “Even if it turns out our baby died like the doctor said? Do you want to know that, too, Lindsey?”

“Yes, even then.” Lindsey choked back the tears clogging her throat. “Whatever you find out, I’ll deal with it. But knowing the truth is the only way I can put this ordeal behind me and get on with my life.”

Gavin nodded, his own throat thick. “I’ll talk to Peterson. I’m due a few days vacation. Then we’ll get out of here.” She nodded and he crossed the room and forced himself to leave without touching Lindsey when he wanted to drag her in his arms and hold her, apologize for letting her down, promise her everything would be all right.

But he’d learned the hard way he couldn’t make promises he might not be able to keep.

GAVIN PULLED INTO into the parking spot in front of his apartment, climbed out and waited on Lindsey to meet him at the door, a bad feeling lingering in his gut. The lieutenant had given him leave, no problem. His partner, Simon Durango, had agreed he should go. But the sight of Lindsey reminded him of the lonely hole in his life. The long days and nights he’d spent remembering her touch, the feel of her lips on his, the feel of her naked body beneath his. He’d admired her strength, had needed it that night they’d made love as much as she’d needed his.

He’d never gotten over her. He probably never would.

But he’d hurt her terribly. She must hate him. And who could blame her?

“Gavin?”

He jerked his head toward the shrubbery lining the far end of the complex, scanning the lot. “Come on, it shouldn’t take me long to pack.” He unlocked the door and gestured for her to go in but she stood ramrod straight.

Those dark eyes watched him warily. “I can wait out here.”

“At least come in and sit down,” he said softly. “You look like you’re going to collapse.”

“Thanks, Mac.” Sarcasm laced her voice. “I’d forgotten how charming you can be.”

He winced. She’d been feisty and determined to do the right thing by testifying, regardless of the consequences to her safety. He’d wanted her the minute he’d laid eyes on her, but he’d fought the attraction, knowing she was off-limits.

“Do you mind if I use your phone while you pack?”

He shook his head, hating the awkwardness between them but knowing he’d drawn the boundaries. “It’s—”

“I know where the phone is,” Lindsey said quietly.

He nodded curtly, remembering the night they’d spent together. When her husband had discovered the location of her safe house, his hired hands had come after her and they’d tried to kill her. Gavin had apprehended them just in time to save her. They’d rushed to another safe house, an isolated cabin in the mountains. Emotions had been high, adrenaline pumping from the danger. Things had gotten out of hand. They’d made love. And he’d planted the seed that had become their son.

Now Lindsey had returned because their baby was missing.

A wave of nausea hit him but he welcomed it. After deserting them and leaving Lindsey vulnerable and alone, he deserved the pain.

Lindsey turned away, so he headed toward his bedroom to pack. She was absolutely right. They couldn’t get personally involved again. He’d go to Maple Hollow, check out her story and pray he could help her discover the truth about their baby. But he’d keep his distance. Because he didn’t deserve her or a child, and this time when he walked away, it would have to be final.

LINDSEY SURVEYED Gavin’s apartment as she punched in JoAnn’s telephone number. Two cardboard boxes with half-eaten pizzas were piled on top of a half dozen empty soda cans. A couple of crushed beer cans lay in the corner as if he’d tossed them toward the trash can and missed. Dust covered his collection of trains on the oak bookcase.

He obviously hadn’t been home much lately or hadn’t been taking care of his place, the same way he hadn’t been taking care of himself. His unshaven face, long hair, rumpled jeans and shirt attested to the fact he’d been out on an assignment. Not that he’d ever been neat, but the dust on his beloved trains definitely hinted he’d been distracted.

A beep interrupted her reverie, and she realized JoAnn’s message machine had played all the way through. “Hey, Jo, it’s me. Sorry I didn’t make it by the school but something came up. I’ll talk to you later.”

She hung up the phone and rubbed her neck, then stretched out on the sofa, ignoring the temptation to tidy his room. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, fighting the emotions coursing through her. The shower kicked on, and she envisioned Gavin standing naked under the hot water. She could see his dark hair full of lather, water trickling down the wide planes of his chest, soap bubbles beading on his taut thighs…

She smiled, letting the image erase the haunting memories for the last year. Gavin had been the only man she’d slept with other than her husband. She didn’t give herself lightly, didn’t jump from one man’s bed to another. But during the weeks she and Gavin had spent together, she’d recognized a strength of character that had been missing in her husband. Maybe it had been the circumstances, the danger, the close quarters, but she’d fallen for him quick and hard. And the spiral downward after his dismissal had been devastating.

WHO WAS JOE? Gavin hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d simply picked up the phone to check his voice mail when Lindsey had spoken the man’s name. Was he a new boyfriend?

He tugged on a pair of well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt, pulled on dark socks and his boots, then jerked the ends of his black hair back into a low ponytail, securing it with a leather tie. The discoloration streaking the side of his temple and his bloodshot eye made him look like a hellion, and the cut at the hairline of his forehead should have had stitches. Not exactly the image he wanted in front of the woman he still lusted after. Or her boyfriend.

For the first time in his life, he wondered what a child would think about him. His child. He certainly didn’t look like anyone’s father.

Feeling edgy, he tossed some clothes into a duffel, grabbed his shaving kit and toiletries, checked his gun and stashed some extra ammo in his bag. Not that he planned to use the Glock, but he never went anywhere without his weapon.

SOMEONE WAS watching her.

Darkness bathed the cold room and shadows streaked the whitewashed walls in hazy diagonal lines. The scent of despair hung heavy in the air. The steady drip of the IV. Fresh tears sprang to Lindsey’s eyes and ran down her face. She wanted to scream, but tears clogged her throat. A slight shuffling sound startled her. Someone’s feet dragging. She wasn’t alone.

Janet, bringing her baby.

No, her baby…was gone. God, noooo…

The sound again. She turned her head. A sliver of light. The door closed. A shadow blocked the doorway. The doctor? Breathing rattled through the claustrophobic room. The shadow inched toward her. Her eyelids felt heavy. She tried to distinguish a face. She had to talk to the doctor. Force him to tell her where he’d taken her baby. Admit that the nurse had made some awful mistake.

He was holding something. A pillow. A chill slithered up her spine. She tried to pull herself from sleep. The pillow closed over her face. Pressed against her eyes. Blocked the air from her lungs. She heaved and tried to kick. But she was so tired.

And just as the inky darkness swallowed her, she heard a baby crying…

Chapter Three

Lindsey jerked upright, her heart hammering in her chest. The sun had set while she’d slept, and early evening shadows engulfed the musty room. Blinking furiously, she finally focused and realized Gavin stood beside her. Relief poured through her. But the silhouette of his handsome face did nothing to alleviate her anxiety over the nightmare. And over seeing him again.

“Bad dream?”

She nodded.

“About that night?”

She nodded again and brushed her hair away from her face. “I could hear our baby crying for me.”

He stood so still, studied her with such anguish that Lindsey ached to touch him. To feel some sort of stability in her rocky world. He had shaved and showered and smelled like soap and that minty aftershave she’d always loved. His damp ponytail was infuriatingly sexy and his bruised eye simply added to his dangerous appearance, the kind that twisted a woman’s insides with fear and want.

Irritated that he still made her ache for him, she drew back. “You should have made some noise or something.”

“I was afraid I’d startle you.”

“It’s been a long day.” She fingercombed her hair, then stood and brushed at her dress. “Are you ready?”

His dark eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure you’re ready? You look as if you need a good night’s sleep before driving.”

“What I need is to find my baby.” She moved toward the door. “And the quicker the better, so we can both get back to our own lives.” Separately.

He frowned, then grabbed his duffel bag and headed to the door. “All right. Let’s go.”

She nodded, wondering at her sanity for asking him to her home. At least now she had no memories of him in her rental house. But once he stepped inside, his image and scent would linger in every corner. Then how would she ever be able to forget him?

HOURS LATER they drove past a neighborhood that could have been lifted from the set of Andy Griffith, then veered onto a side street which curved slightly around the mountain. Lindsey stopped by the cemetery, but Gavin shook his head, not yet ready to face the tiny gravemarker which marked his son’s fleeting existence. When they’d stopped for coffee at a small diner, she’d bought fresh flowers from a stand outside the café. He watched in agony now as she lay the beautiful flowers on the small plot, her soft sobs wrenching in their sweetness.

He had to find out if the baby in the grave was his son—they could exhume the body. But he couldn’t justify disturbing the sanctity of the child’s grave without definite proof of foul play. Judging from Lindsey’s emotional state, he didn’t think she was ready for the suggestion either.

After what seemed like an eternity, she returned to her car and they drove down a dirt road, finally stopping at the end of the narrow drive where a tiny white house sat bordered by a picket fence, a whiskey barrel full of pansies and a front porch with a porch swing. Gavin instantly pictured a tricycle and kiddie pool in the front yard, Lindsey wearing a Little League Mom’s shirt holding a baby on her hip. A picnic table on the back deck, lazy Sunday afternoons, a bunch of rugrats running through the sprinkler. His son sporting a baseball hat.

His son.

Lindsey thought that night with her hadn’t meant anything to him. Hell, it had meant too much.

All the more reason he and Lindsey didn’t belong together.

He’d seen too much meanness in his life. He couldn’t take his kid fishing like Andy had Opie and pretend the world was a good place.

His gaze swept the property and he frowned. Situated off the main turnpike, the cabin was isolated and tucked into the woods with a thick bed of trees backing the property. He tried to remember the distance between her house and the last one they’d passed. At least a mile. Too far to yell for help if she were in trouble. And those woods would make an excellent hiding spot for someone who meant her harm. He kept his headlights on while she walked up the porch steps and opened the door. Thank God, she did use a key.

He killed his engine and followed her. When he went inside her house, he felt as if he’d suddenly come home. The scent of lilac and something that smelled faintly like baby powder drifted to him. Lindsey faltered beside a small bassinet, and she lay one hand on top of a baby blanket. A tiny white bunny rattler stood propped inside the baby bed, a miniature squeaky toy in the shape of a boat at the foot.

His gut tightened painfully, his feet refusing to move. He didn’t know what he’d expected—that she’d disposed of all the baby paraphernalia, maybe. But the sight of the empty baby bed and toys was almost more than he could bear. He couldn’t imagine the depth of Lindsey’s pain. His own immobilized him.

He lay his hand over the small train whistle in his pocket, the one momento he kept from childhood. His mother had given it to him on one of their trips. She’d told him to blow on it if he ever got lost and she’d know where to find him. He wished his son had a whistle now.

“I should move the bassinet to the nursery with the other stuff,” Lindsey said in a low voice, gesturing toward a closed doorway in the hall. “But I…I can’t. I feel like if I put the bassinet away, I’m totally giving up hope that our baby is alive.”

Gavin’s throat completely closed so he simply nodded that he understood.

Lindsey slowly faced him, obviously struggling for composure. “Are you hungry? I can fix us soup or a sandwich before you check into a hotel.”

He’d thought he might be staying at her house, but he understood her need for distance—her house seemed too small for both of them. The only spare bedroom was probably the one she’d converted into a nursery. He certainly couldn’t bring himself to sleep in there…not without his son.

“Gavin, do you want to eat?”

He hated to put her to work. Then again, she looked as if she needed something to do to take her mind off her sorrow. “Sure. Whatever you’ve got is fine.”

She drew in a deep breath, then slipped into the kitchen.

He surveyed the room. A blue ruffled sofa with mauve throw pillows faced a small TV and entertainment center. CDs were stacked haphazardly on a pine end table, her favorite Bonnie Raitt CD on top. Decorating and teaching magazines littered a Shaker-style coffee table, with two additions he’d never seen in her apartment in Raleigh—parenting magazines, and a book of baby names.

Tension thrummed through him, her pleas all too real. He stepped in the kitchen doorway. “Lindsey?”

Lindsey’s soft voice penetrated the silence, “Yes.”

He slowly raised his gaze to hers, grimacing at the pain in her eyes. “Did you give our baby a name?”

“Cory,” she said in a shaky whisper. “I named him Cory Adam.” She paused and he sucked in a sharp breath. “My dad’s name was Adam. I hope you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. His last name was McCord—she’d taken part of his name and given it to their son even though he had sent her away.

Lindsey turned back to the stove and he sat at the table, hurt and anger rolling through him in waves. There was no way he could sleep tonight until he talked to the doctor who’d delivered his son. He’d stop at the hospital before he found a hotel. Could Lindsey be right? Could someone have lied about their baby? Could their son, Cory, still be alive?

THE SCENT of alcohol and antiseptics assaulted Gavin as he entered the small hospital, reminding him of the night he’d rushed Rodney Johnson to the ER. The boy had been in trouble and Gavin had thought he could help him. Instead, the teen had dogged him right into a bust and been shot in the crossfire.

“Dr. Cross isn’t here,” the red-haired receptionist said from behind a small window.

Damn, he should have called. “What time will he be in tomorrow?”

“Around nine. He has rounds over at County first.”

“What about Janet Quinn?”

“She’s not here either.” Impatience flared in her voice. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Is there an emergency?”

“No, I wanted to talk to them about Lindsey Payne.”

The woman’s eyes widened perceptibly. “Why are you asking questions about Miss Payne?”

He decided to use a personal angle. “I’m a friend, and I’ve been worried about her since she lost the baby.”

The woman’s expression immediately turned sympathetic. “I know what you mean. She took the news so hard, poor thing.”

“Were you here the night she delivered?”

“No, we had a terrible explosion that night at the plastic factory in town. Everybody but Janet and Doc Cross had to help at County. Must have been sixty injuries.”

“Lindsey was here several days. Did you treat her at all?”

“Oh, yes. I pulled late shift the next two nights. Wound up sitting with Ms. Payne until her sedatives took effect. She was so distraught.” She pursed her lips, shaking her head back and forth. “Poor thing, so alone. The baby’s daddy didn’t even show up.”

Gavin gritted his teeth, fresh guilt assaulting him. He considered telling her he was the father, but she saved him by continuing, “Frankly, I think the girl had a breakdown myself. Don’t blame her, bless her heart. She claimed some crazy things after she lost the baby. I think she ought to see a shrink.”

Gavin had heard enough. He glanced at the clock and the near-empty facility and realized there wasn’t much more he could do until morning. Tomorrow he’d return with Lindsey and ask for a tour of the place. He’d question the doctor and gauge his reactions. For now, though, he’d find the hotel, call Simon and tell him to run a check on this missing nurse, Janet Quinn.

A few minutes later, he pulled up to the local sheriff’s office, but discovered it was empty. He’d hit another dead end. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he cursed silently. Obviously the police department operated on a nine-to-five schedule. Didn’t they have crime after dark?

Frustrated, he drove toward the small hotel he’d seen when they’d driven into town. Seeing the white-haired little man who ran the place, he tried to imagine someone in Maple Hollow doing the things Lindsey had described. Faking an autopsy report, telling her her baby had died when it was alive, but the images didn’t fit.

The furnishings in the small room were sparse; a double bed with a faded orange flowered spread, a battered maple dresser, a bathroom with yellowed tile and a pea-green shower curtain hanging askew. He sank onto the double bed, not surprised when the shaky bed squeaked, the mattress bowing with his weight. Lying on his back, he crossed his ankles and folded his hands beneath his head and stared at a cobweb in the corner as the day’s revelations paraded across his mind. He had a son. He’d lost his son. Was he alive? Missing? Could the nurse be right? Could Lindsey be so emotionally distraught she simply couldn’t face the horrible truth? Did she need a counselor instead of a detective?

Had someone tried to kill her in the hospital?

He sprang off the bed. If someone had meant to harm Lindsey, they could come back any time. And once again he’d left her completely alone and unprotected.

LINDSEY FINALLY DRIFTED into a fitful sleep, the day’s tensions clawing at her body. But in her dreams, she heard her baby’s cry again. He was out there somewhere. He needed her. She had to keep searching. Had to believe he was alive.

She tossed and rolled, her throat aching, her mouth dry. A strange smell penetrated her nostrils, burning her wind-pipe, making her head throb. She opened her eyes, but the room spun. The air swirled around her, stifling. Hot. Perspiration beaded her face. She sniffed, suddenly alarmed at the strong pungent smell.

Gas.

She flung back the covers and rolled off the bed but her legs wobbled when she tried to stand and the room rocked back and forth. She screamed Gavin’s name, only the sound came out as a croak, and she remembered he’d gone away again. The smell grew stronger, the air choking her. Her body felt sluggish. Her head ached. The room swayed, then blurred again, and she dropped down onto the carpet. She had to crawl out, escape. But a wave of darkness engulfed her as she pitched forward, and she cried out, afraid she couldn’t make it to the door.

Chapter Four

Gavin had parked along the street in front of Lindsey’s and had almost dozed off when he suddenly jerked upright, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he detected a movement. A hazy shadow caught in the early morning light slipped into the woods behind Lindsey’s house. Barking broke the silence, and he saw a dog running into the woods. Relieved, he leaned his head back against the seat but just as sleep pulled at his eyelids, a screeching sound erupted that made his blood run cold. His eyes jerked open and he bolted out of the car.

A front window stood ajar, sending his mind into alarm. He raced to the front door and knocked, then rang the door bell, tapping his foot impatiently. Seconds passed like a time warp set in slow motion. He pounded the door again and called Lindsey’s name. She still didn’t answer.

His stomach lurched. Something was definitely wrong.

Frantic, he jiggled the door, but it wouldn’t open so he climbed inside the window. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he smelled gas. Jesus. Where was Lindsey?

He raced through the small den and found her lying on the floor, a white swirl of fabric clinging to her slender legs, her long hair shadowing her face. She looked pale and thin and so still his heart slammed into his throat.

“Lindsey!” He pressed his hand to her clammy face, and she moaned. His breath whooshed out in relief. She was alive. Adrenaline shooting through him, he slid his arms beneath her limp form, unlocked the front door, and carried her out into the fresh air.

Clutching her to his chest, he stumbled outside, then sank onto the grass near his car. An owl hooted in the distance. A dog barked again, loud and demanding. Shadows flitted across the yard as the leaves on the trees rustled. Was someone behind them? In the house?

She moaned again and, for a brief second, opened her eyes. She was trembling, her eyes dazed. He stroked a tendril of hair from her face, gently cradling her chin in his hand. “Lindsey, baby, are you all right?”

She coughed and clutched his arms, angling her head to look up at him as she rasped for air.

He stroked her back with his palm, trying to help her breathe. “Are you okay? Was someone in the house?”

“I don’t know. G-gas. I could smell it.”

“I know, so did I.” His gaze shot to the house. What if it exploded? He picked her up and gently laid her in the back seat of his car, tenderly checking her face and arms and legs. “Are you all right?”

She wheezed again. “Feel dizzy.”

“I’ll call an ambulance. You do have one in this little town, don’t you?”

“Yes, call the fire department,” Lindsey rasped. “They’ll send one.”

He rubbed his hand over the side of her face, then pulled off his jacket and lay it over her, drawing the sleeves around her shivering form. “Just lie here and try to relax.”

He grabbed his cell phone and quickly dialed for help. “Send an ambulance right away! Yes, she’s conscious. 3499 Pine Hollow Road. Lindsey Payne. I think there was a gas leak in her house. Yes, send the sheriff and the fire department, too.” She closed her eyes and his breath caught in his throat. “Hurry!”

He quickly checked her pulse. Faint, but her blood stirred slightly. He dragged her in his arms, lowered his head and listened to her breathing. Shallow, but steady. “They’ll be here soon, Lindsey,” he whispered, “Don’t worry, darlin’. Everything’s going to be all right.”

He rocked her in his arms praying for the EMTs to arrive, all the time wondering if he’d just told Lindsey a lie. If someone had intentionally tampered with her gas line, they’d meant to harm her. And if they were trying to hurt her because she was asking questions about her baby, neither one of them was going to be all right—not until they found their child.

Ten minutes later, the wail of a siren rent the air. He strained to see over the hump of the road, exhaling with relief when he spotted an ambulance and fire truck racing toward them. The paramedics jumped out and raced toward him. “Hurry!” Gavin yelled.

“We’ll check out the gas leak,” one of the firemen said.

A young blond paramedic placed an oxygen mask over Lindsey’s mouth and nose while another one took her vitals. “Blood pressure’s low, pupils dilated slightly.”

“She’s going to be okay,” he said. “But we should take her in for some blood work. Make sure her cell count is normal.”

Gavin nodded. A sheriff’s car pulled up the long winding drive, its blue light swirling through the pre-dawn sky. The car raced to a stop and a tall, gray-haired man wearing a tan sheriff’s uniform lumbered out, his face drawn. Even with the early morning sun deflecting his view, Gavin felt the man’s intense scrutiny trained on him. Felt those cop’s assessing suspicious eyes.

“What happened here?”

“Gas inhalation,” the paramedic explained. “We’re taking her to the hospital for tests.”

The sheriff hitched up his pants with his thumbs. “I’m Sheriff Forbes. Who might you be, Mister?”

He stuck out his hand. “I’m a friend of Lindsey’s, a detective from Raleigh. Name’s Gavin McCord. I’m glad you came, Sheriff.”

The sheriff shook his hand firmly, glaring at him as if he recognized his face from a Wanted poster. “You here when this happened?”

He was going to treat him as a suspect. Gavin understood the drill, but he sure as hell didn’t like it. “I drove over, saw a window open and got worried.”

A vein pulsed in the man’s high forehead as he chewed over Gavin’s words. “Mighty early for a visit, ain’t it, son?”

“I was worried about her,” Gavin explained. “I thought I’d drop by and take her to breakfast.”

“All the way from Raleigh?”

Gavin forced himself to bank his anger. The old coot was just doing his job. He’d do the same if he were the officer in charge, but the sheriff was wasting precious time interrogating him.

“No, I came down yesterday, I spent the night at the local hotel. You can check with the manager. I arrived around 11:00 p.m.” He stole a glance at Lindsey, aware she was lying way too still for comfort.

The sheriff nodded, chewing his lip sideways. Gavin stroked Lindsey’s hand, gently turning her chin so she could see his face. “You’re okay, sweetheart, we’re taking you to the clinic.”

A moment of panic surged into her eyes and he grimaced, realizing the memories the place would resurrect.

“We’re ready to move her,” the paramedic cut in.

Gavin nodded. “I’m going with you.”

One of the fireman walked toward them, his face furrowed. He held up a wire and pair of wire clippers. “Looks like the line was cut intentionally.”

Anger swept through Gavin.

“Sir, we need to go,” the paramedic said.

Gavin nodded and climbed in the ambulance. “Check out that wire,” Gavin told the sheriff. “See if you find any prints.”

Forbes frowned. “Just who do you think you are?”

Gavin’s hands shook as he yanked his badge from his pocket. “A detective from Raleigh. I’m here to find out what happened to Miss Payne’s child.”

“You’re out of your jurisdiction.”

Gavin glared at him. “I’ve never let it stop me from solving a case before. And I don’t intend to this time.”

“Look, mister, the lady’s baby died of natural causes. Now she’s so distraught, she may have tried to kill herself.”

Fury ran through Gavin’s blood, hot and explosive. “Lindsey asked for my help yesterday. There’s no way she’d attempt suicide today. And if that wire was cut intentionally, it proves someone tried to hurt her.”

The sheriff stared at him in disbelief. The EMT closed the back door of the ambulance and Gavin sat down beside Lindsey, cradling her limp hand in his. As they pulled away, he prayed Forbes was one of the good guys, that he’d come up with some answers. Because if Gavin found out who’d done this to Lindsey, he would be tempted to forget the law.

He’d kill him with his bare hands.

LINDSEY AWAKENED, dazed and disoriented—where was she? A dark husky scent invaded her senses. Her house? No, the hospital. Glancing through the dim light, she tried to focus, then recognized the worry lines around Gavin’s troubled eyes. His jaw was clamped shut, his expression bleak. Still, his handsome face served as a source of comfort in the chaotic turmoil surrounding her life.

She allowed herself to savor his presence for a moment, trying to imprint his image on her brain so she could summon it after he left again. And he would leave again. It was only a matter of time. “Ga—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital, Linds.”

She frowned. “What happened?”

“Your house had a gas leak. Did you forget to turn off the burner after you heated the soup?”

She shook her head, searching her memory.

“The sheriff’s checking it out.” He finally released the bedrail and raked a hand through his hair. “The doctors ran some tests, a chemical profile to trace any elements you might have inhaled.”

“Dr. Cross?”

“No, Dr. Avery.” He tipped his head toward the door. “He said Cross should be here any minute, though.”

Lindsey fiddled with the oxygen tubes. “I don’t understand what’s happening, Gavin. Not any of it.”

“I know.” His jaw tightened. “But I’ll figure it out. I just need a little time.”

A nurse bustled in to check Lindsey’s vitals. “Mercy, Ms. Lindsey, didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon.”

“Neither did I,” Lindsey whispered.

“The doctor wants to monitor your oxygen saturation for a while, hon, but so far, things look good,” the nurse drawled in a thick Southern accent. “He’ll probably let you go home in a while.”

“Thanks, Brenda Leigh. I really don’t want to stay overnight.”

“I know, honey-child. Now get some rest.” She fluffed Lindsey’s pillow, then slipped out the door.

Gavin gently stroked a strand of hair away from Lindsey’s forehead. “I’m going to talk to the staff for a minute. Will you be all right?”

Lindsey ached to reach out and hold on to him but refused to allow herself the comfort. So she simply nodded, then closed her eyes and gave in to the exhaustion. But as soon as sleep claimed her, she heard her baby’s cry.

“ROCK-A-BYE-BABY in the treetop…”

He listened to the baby’s cries and watched in silence as she cradled the little boy in her arms and rocked him back and forth. God, how she loved to sit in that rocker. Especially lately. As if the soothing motion could lull her own pain. She sang softly, the same lullaby she’d sung to her first son. The son she had lost…

A cold fist pressed against his heart. He would do anything to alleviate the terrible suffering she’d had to endure the past few months. The infant gurgled, batting a tiny hand at the tendrils of hair floating around her heart-shaped face, and he smiled as she traced a finger over the baby’s pointed little chin.

She was going to want to keep the child. Forever. Of that much he was certain. No matter what his boss had to say.

He chuckled, thinking of the years he’d devoted to his employer, giving up his own needs and beliefs sometimes to please him. Well, no more.

A dark laugh escaped him at the irony. He would never have thought of the plan by himself. No, the boss had the devious mind. But he’d walk away the loser this time.

He stepped outside and lit a cigarette, watched the embers spark to life, the ends curl and sparkle with orange fire as he took his first draw. Tapping the ashes onto the weed-filled grass, he inhaled the chill of the mountain air and the scent of honeysuckle as he pondered his plan.

The baby was safe and sound, but Lindsey Payne and that cop-boyfriend of hers were not. They wouldn’t get the baby back. And neither would the man who’d ordered him to take the baby from his mother’s arms.

The little boy cried out softly and he glanced through the window. She patted his back, the old chair creaking and groaning as she rocked and sang. No, the little boy was where he belonged. And he’d do anything he had to do to make sure he stayed there. Including kill the Payne woman and that nosy cop. And he’d even defy his boss if he had to.

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