Find My Baby (15 page)

“I know,” she said. “But I can’t help it. This is what I’ve been praying for.”

Maybe he was making a big mistake. Kayla wanted her baby so badly she wasn’t listening. But did he have an alternative? He couldn’t call HPD since they weren’t involved anymore. The FBI would be on it as soon as they saw the papers. The only thing they could do was order a DNA test. All Kayla had to do was look at the baby. He’d have to be extra careful. Somehow, he’d make this work.

His gaze went to her. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes were filled with anticipation—her face wreathed in a smile he wanted to hold onto.

“My heart is jumping out of my chest.” She smiled at Luke. “Will I hold Sam in my arms today? Will he remember me?”

“Don’t make assumptions, Kayla.”

But she was and he didn’t know how to tamp down that leap of faith.

“It’s him,” she said with confidence. “Has to be.”

“You’re jumping out of your skin. We’ll be there soon. Then we’ll know.”

Luke reached over and took her cold hand in his.

When their hands entwined his heart went into overdrive. Did she feel this connection?

Of course not. Her concentration was on her son.

Luke made a sharp turn off Westheimer. Then looked down at the slip of paper in his hand with the address written on it. A short while later, he pulled into the driveway of a large two-story colonial. “This is it.”

The house sat back on a large, meticulously landscaped lot, surrounded by several huge trees. “This is where they took Sam? They must have a lot of money.”

“If Sam’s in there, they have enough to pay for a killer and a couple of kidnappers,” Luke volunteered. “We can’t be too careful, Kayla. If I tell you to get out of there, you’d better do as I say. Understand?”

Kayla nodded.

Luke felt her apprehension. But they had to check out the baby. “Sitting here will get us nowhere,” Luke reminded her.

Kayla straightened her shoulders before she opened the car door. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Luke took her arm and, with resolute steps, walked up the sidewalk and rang the bell. Only then did they exchange glances. “Let me handle this. We have to be diplomatic if we’re going to talk our way inside,” he said.

Before Kayla could answer, a fortyish woman with blonde streaks in her dark hair opened the door. “Yes?”

“Are you Mrs. Jayne Duwalt?” Luke asked.

“Yes. What is it?”

“Is your husband Ralph Duwalt?”

“Yes.” She seemed both curious and exasperated. “Is something wrong?”

Luke shook his head. “No. But we have a couple of questions.”

A baby’s wail filtered downstairs and could be heard clearly from the open doorway. “Whatever it is, you’ll have to come back later. My baby’s crying.”

Kayla put a hand to her heart. And Luke felt his first vibe that this wasn’t a good idea.

Kayla pushed past the woman and ran into the house.

“I’m coming, Sam. Mommy’s coming.”

Jayne Duwalt ran after her. “Are you crazy? You can’t barge into my house uninvited. I’m calling the police.”

Luke whipped out his badge. “I am the police. Kayla, stop right now,” he ordered.

Kayla ignored him. She tore into the nursery, ran to the crib. Grabbing the dark haired infant, she lifted him into her arms, clutched him to her breast. Tears coursed down her face as the baby hiccupped, then quieted.

“It’s Sam,” she said. “My Sam.” She rocked back and forth cradling the child as he gave soft, mewling sounds.

“Give me my baby,” the woman said quietly. “Then leave.”

“He’s not yours; he’s mine,” Kayla growled, holding him close.

“I’m calling the police,” Jayne said again.

Luke held his badge in plain view.

Panic stricken, Ms. Duwalt focused on her baby and on Kayla.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. And if this wasn’t Sam, he was in a world of trouble. “I’m with HPD,” Luke explained. Hoping against hope he could bring order out of chaos. He never should have brought Kayla here—should have let the FBI handle it. But how else could anyone else identify the infant? “This woman’s baby has been kidnapped. The attorney you used for this baby’s adoption has been implicated in the incident. All we want to do is take a look at the child.”

“He’s my baby,” she insisted as fear leaped into her eyes. “The adoption was legal. I have the papers to prove it. Please,” she said. “Don’t hurt my baby.”

“Hurt him?” Kayla said with feeling. “I wouldn’t hurt my own child.” She snuggled the baby closer, held on tight.

Clearly upset, the new mother gave Luke a look of sheer panic.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right.” Then he turned to Kayla. “Look at the baby.” If the baby was Sam, this woman clearly didn’t know it.

Kayla’s smile was sure and confident. “This is Sam, Luke.”

“You haven’t looked,” Luke growled. “Look at him.”

Kayla loosened her hold, propped the baby in her left arm, smoothed the blanket away from his face.

“Is he your baby?” Luke asked softly, praying it was so; that this nightmare was over.

Kayla looked closely. “He’s beautiful. Look at that tiny nose and high forehead.” She looked over at Luke. “He’s not Sam. The nose, the chin, even the hairline are different.”

Her body trembled. Luke grabbed her. She’d been so sure; so positive. Now she had another trauma to go through. And it was his fault.

Ms. Duwalt grabbed the baby and held him close.

“I thought…” Kayla whispered.

“You’d better leave.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke said, as he led Kayla to the living room. “This has been a trying time for her. She thought this might be her son.”

The woman shook her head. “The mother of my baby signed over her rights. I watched her do it.”

“It’s a big misunderstanding. Can you forgive us?” he added. If not, HPD would come down hard.

Kayla sank into the nearest chair. “I thought I’d found him.” She put her face in her hands as tears leaked through. “How could I have been so wrong?”

Jayne Duwalt went to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. “Here,” she said gently, clearly feeling Kayla’s pain. “This will help.”

Luke took the glass and handed it to Kayla. “You have to pull yourself together, Kayla. We made a mistake, but I promise you, we’ll find Sam. I haven’t given up. Have you?”

Fighting tears, Kayla looked up at him, took a deep breath and came out of the chair. “I’ll never give up.”

“Good,” Luke said as his admiration for Kayla grew.

He apologized again to the baby’s mother. “It was never our intention to frighten you.”

“If my baby had been stolen, I’d be upset too.”

“I hope you never have to deal with this kind of pain,” Kayla said as they walked out the door.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?” Luke scolded when they were back in the SUV. Despite the cool temperature, he wiped perspiration from his brow. He understood Kayla’s actions, but wasn’t sure Jayne Duwalt had. Hellfire! They’d almost blown it.

“I thought he was my baby,” Kayla murmured. “I wanted so much for him to be my Sam.”

“We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t call downtown and file a formal complaint,” Luke complained.

“I don’t think she will,” Kayla said. “She was pretty understanding.”

“I hope you’re right. We don’t need the hassle.”

“Where is he? Where is Sam? Was this our last clue? Do we have anywhere else to go? Anywhere else to look?” Kayla asked.

The desperation in her voice twisted around his heart. He couldn’t stand to see her suffer. He wanted to take her in his arms and give her the answers she wanted. But he didn’t have them.

He wanted her happy. She wouldn’t be without Sam. Even now she clung to hope. Who would she be when that hope died? If or when that happened, would he even be there to hold, comfort, and help her?

He looked over at her. At the intensity of her resolve—at the way her eyes glowed with purpose and determination.

He looked forward to the meeting later tonight.

Four minds had to be better than one.

Chapter Thirteen

Bear climbed out of his car. In a jogging suit and sneakers, he looked nothing like the professional who’d entered the TV station. It hadn’t taken long to find Nester Taylor’s address and commence with his plan. If the Hunter broad was here, tonight would be her last.

Rolling his shoulders to get out the kinks, he started a slow jog. He’d circle the block a few times until he either saw her or was convinced she was inside. This time, there would be no mistakes. If anyone interfered, he’d take care of them, too.

It was early evening, but the clouds made the sky darker than normal. Light from a distant street lamp shimmered through air heavy with the coming storm.

By the time he’d made it around the block once, his breath was coming in short, fast puffs. He should spend more time in the gym instead of on the firing range. He was out of shape and embarrassed. Every time he thought of the Hunter woman’s escape at the cabin, he was angry all over again. He should have killed her that night. Instead, she’d out-run him and dodged every damned bullet. If things had gone as planned then, the boss would be happy. And Bear wouldn’t be out here in the cold looking for a way to finish a job that should be over and done with.

Lucky is what she was. Damned lucky.

She wouldn’t be tonight.

A quick scan of the Taylor home as he passed showed him Kayla wasn’t there. The shades were up and two women were moving about, both much older than the one he wanted.

Jogging even slower, he kept an eye on the house. If Kayla Hunter was staying here, where was she?

He had to do it tonight. The boss was getting impatient. Bear didn’t want to think of the consequences if he didn’t complete the job soon. The longer it took, the angrier the boss would be.

Turning the corner, he almost ran into someone. Then realized there was more than one person hoarding the sidewalk. Half a dozen boys wearing low-riding pants and hoodies were in the way. Thug wannabes, from the looks of them, stood there with their arms crossed, as if daring him to continue. “Just passing through, guys,” he said, trying to jog around them.

Three of them crowded him, forming a human wall. They were young, sixteen, seventeen maybe. They had a familiar look about them. He turned around to go back the way he’d come. Three more kids blocked his exit.

He patted the gun in his shoulder holster, but didn’t want a bloody brawl. “Hey guys,” he bluffed. “Nice night, huh?”

“Who are you?” one of them asked from the dark, far right corner. “And where are you from? Not around here for sure. Not with that accent.”

“Yeah!” several others joined in. “You’re not from the neighborhood.”

Despite the cold and the impending rain, sweat beaded his forehead. Bear ignored it. “Just thought I’d see what the neighborhood looked like at night.”

“Why?” another kid sneered. “Planning on moving in?”

They laughed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull into the driveway of the Taylor home.

“Look guys. I’m not looking for trouble. I just want to finish my jog, blow off a little steam. I had a stress-filled day. This is what the doctor ordered.”

“Why here?” the guy in the shadows asked, just as a woman with short, blonde hair stepped out of a car and walked inside. Had to be the Hunter broad. He almost laughed. As if changing her hair would stop him. But damned if the perfect chance didn’t just get screwed.

Bear shrugged, trying for a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “Why not?”

“This is our turf. No strangers allowed,” one of the thugs said. “Especially one who sounds like he came from one of those foreign countries. What are you? A terrorist?”

Bear gave them all a good look. They were nothing but young hoods. Kids who didn’t have anything to keep them busy except trouble. Years ago, before he’d left Russia, he’d seen hundreds like them. Hell, he’d been one himself. He almost smiled. If nothing else, he understood their frustration, their urge for violence. It was what had brought him to where and what he was.

Crossing his arms, he challenged, “So what’s it going to take? A hundred bucks? More? I’m not in the mood for a showdown. Not tonight.”

The boys exchanged guarded looks.

“Five bills will do it,” the spokesman said, stepping from the shadows. Bear realized it was no coincidence that he also happened to be the biggest kid here. Laughing, he pulled some bills out of his pocket. “Here’s two. You’re lucky to get that.”

“I said five.” The big guy reminded him. “Otherwise...”

“Or you’ll what? Beat me up?” Bear laughed again. “You might have me outnumbered, but the way I see it, I’ll get a couple of you before you take me down.” His hard, cold gaze raked them. “You have no idea if I have a gun or a knife, or if I’m a karate expert or all of the above. I’m three times the size of any one of you, and I guarantee at least two of you will end up dead.” He looked at the leader. “And you’ll be the first.”

The leader didn’t move. Bear had to give him credit.

“The choice is yours.” He held out his hand with two bills.

The leader grabbed them. They faded into his back pocket. “We’re out of here.”

In seconds they’d disappeared. “Just like home,” Bear muttered. Except there no one handed out a reward to get lost.

He jogged back to his car, passing the Taylor house on the way. Now there were three cars in the drive. Through the open curtains the house looked full of people.

“This is your lucky night, Kayla Hunter. Don’t count on any more.”

Chapter Fourteen

Inside the house, Kayla put her fork down beside her plate. “That was wonderful, Aunt Nester. Thanks.”

“I had help,” Nester said, glancing fondly at her friend.

Rosie blushed. “She wouldn’t let me do much.”

“Not so. It would be hard to do this without you.”

“It was very good,” Luke said. “And we appreciate it.”

Terry echoed his endorsement. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had fried chicken. It was better than good.”

“I can’t remember the last time I used the dining room. I’m just glad you chose to come here.” Looking around at the faces of her guests, Nester added, “And I’m happy you’re helping Kayla.”