Find My Baby (25 page)

Kayla jerked back, the baby snuggled deeper into her arms. “Sam?” she whispered. Then held him tighter. “His dad’s chin, my eyes. Dear God. It is Sam.” She held him closer. “It’s Sam,” she said over and over. Then her knees caved. Luke grabbed her, held her up. Sam! Her mind screamed, for a moment unable to grasp the fact that he was in her arms.

“My husband is on his way. When he gets here, God help you all.”

“Let’s go,” Luke said.

He took Kayla’s arm and helped her toward the door. Together they went back down the hall to the stairs.

“If you don’t stop right now and hand me my grandchild, I’m having you arrested!”

Luke walked faster, helping Kayla when she stumbled. Without his support, she wouldn’t be able to take a step.

“You can’t take my grandson!” the woman screamed as she followed them downstairs. The maid came out of a room wringing her hands.

Kayla stopped and turned. “You took him from me,” she said, her voice firm now. “He’s mine.”

“That’s not true. My son and daughter-in-law died. That’s my grandson.”

“Your son died, Mrs. Sinclair. David died. But I’m very much alive, and I’m taking my son home.” She couldn’t wait to get there. Home meant Aunt Nester’s. Though she’d made her small apartment into a tiny nest for herself and her baby, Aunt Nester’s was the kind of home she’d always wanted.

“That’s ridiculous! That’s impossible! My husband—”

Ignoring her, they headed for the door, Luke pulling out his cell phone and dialing.

Richards answered. “We’ve found Kayla’s baby. Get in touch with your office closest to Greenwich, Connecticut and get someone to the Sinclair estate ASAP.” He gave Richards the address, flipping the cell phone closed just as they reached the back door.

“What the hell is going on?” A tall, stocky, gray haired man with a face that spelled trouble blocked the door. His voice was deep and gravelly. Luke had a feeling he was about to meet “The Voice.” A security cop came in behind Sinclair, a hand on his holster.

Luke, with Kayla in tow, backed up. Kayla held Sam closer as if daring anyone to take him from her. Luke had the feeling that a gun wouldn’t get the child out of her arms.

For the first time, the man who had to be William David Sinclair II looked at Kayla. His face paled. “You—”

“What’s going on?” his wife demanded. “This woman claims to be Will’s mother. How can that be?”

“His name is Sam,” Kayla said, her voice stronger now. Her head began to clear, the fuzziness recede. Against all odds, they’d found Sam. These people had taken him. That meant they’d been involved in killing at least four people, plus doing their best to kill her. Kayla took a deep breath. They wouldn’t get away with it. Whoever they were, she wasn’t going to just take Sam and walk out while they went on with their lives.

By now the security guard had his gun out. He looked to Mr. Sinclair for instructions. Luke carefully got out his ID and showed it to him. “I’m with the Houston Police Department. The FBI will be here shortly. The Sinclairs are involved in kidnapping, murder and attempted murder. I suggest you hold the gun on them until the FBI arrives.”

The round, plump face of the Security guard registered shock and, instead of pointing the gun at the Sinclairs, put it back in its holster. “We’ll wait for the authorities,” he said lamely.

“Good idea,” Luke said.

Mrs. Sinclair sank into the nearest chair. “What are they talking about, William? David and his wife are dead. That’s what you told me. Will is ours now.”

William Sinclair II looked at his wife. “I have to make a phone call.”

He turned as if to leave the room. Luke motioned him back to his chair. “Later.”

Sam whimpered and began to cry. “I’m going to feed him,” Kayla said and walked into the next room.

When Kayla put him to her breast, he snuggled close and latched on as if there had never been a break. Overwhelmed with gratitude, she ignored the conversation in the next room and just looked at her son, soaking in the wonder of him.

Rubbing a hand over his head, she smiled. Yes, it was Sam. She’d memorized his precious features the day he was born and every day since then when she was allowed to hold him. What had he gone through since he’d been taken from her?

Evidently his grandparents ignored his cries, leaving him to sob when he should be held and loved. The thought sent waves of anger pulsing through her. How could they?

She traced his small face with a finger. “Mommy’s here now, Sam. You’re safe. And I promise to take good care of you.”

He gave a little hiccup, pulled away from her breast and looked up at her. Matching eyes met. Kayla smiled, as did her son; a soft, swift smile that melted her heart. She had no idea love could run so deep or be as pure as the love she felt for this small bundle in her arms. He knew her. She was sure of it.

She held him closer. So close, he made squirming sounds as if to tell her to loosen up.

But she couldn’t.

She’d been without him too long, so she held tight and kissed his soft cheeks until he once more nuzzled at her breast.

“Are you through?” she asked a little later as she put him to her shoulder.

He let out a loud burp.

Kayla responded with a bubble of laughter. “Oh, Sam, Mommy’s never going to let you go.”

Chapter Twenty-One

When Kayla returned to the room off the back entrance, it was crowded with officers. Several in uniform from the local police had joined the security guard. Two men in dark suits sat at a small table with Luke as he explained the situation.

He saw her, went over to stand beside her. “Are you all right?”

“Never been better.” She tucked Sam closer, smiled into Luke’s concerned eyes. How had she gotten so lucky? Her son was in her arms and Luke was beside her.

She looked over at the man and woman who were undoubtedly David’s parents. Why did they do such a horrendous thing? They were Sam’s grandparents. Yet they had kidnapped her, tried to kill her and taken Sam from her. She wanted answers.

At the table, the Sinclairs were stonily silent.

Mrs. Sinclair raised her head and stared at Kayla with eyes full of regret.

Kayla thought of her aunt. At how different she was from these people.

“Have you called Aunt Nester and Jackie, Luke?”

“Not two minutes ago. Nester’s ecstatic, so is Mom. Jackie said to tell you she’s throwing you and Sam a party when we get back.” He rubbed the baby’s head. “Sure is small, isn’t he?”

She chuckled. “Babies are supposed to be small.”

“Can I hold him?”

She held Sam tighter, unwilling to let go.

Now that she had him back, she had to get over this. Now was too soon.

But Kayla handed Sam over; smiling at how awkward the big detective looked shuffling a baby in his arms. She had to laugh. “He won’t break, you know.”

Finally, Luke tucked him into his left arm. Looking down at him, he said, “You weren’t easy to find, young man.”

This was a moment Kayla had thought would never come, and one she’d never forget. She dropped another kiss on top of Sam’s soft head. But here he was, as beautiful as ever.

One of the men from the FBI called Luke. He handed Sam back to her.

“Get used to me, Sam. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

He went to the table where they were interrogating the Sinclairs. Kayla followed.

“They want to ask you a few questions.”

“Good. I have a few of my own.”

He pulled out a chair, motioned for Kayla to sit. Like a satisfied angel, Sam had fallen asleep.

“Do you want to lay him down?” one of the men asked.

She shook her head. “Not in this house.” Giving him another swift kiss, she looked at the men at the table, then at the two who were behind all of the pain and heartache she’d been through.

Luke went to the large island, took the bowl of oranges sitting there and stuck them in the refrigerator. He caught Kayla’s eye and grinned. She smiled back.

He wondered how long it would be before she got over the orange thing. Probably as long as it took to get over Sam’s kidnapping.

Thank God they’d found him.

He let his gaze rest on Kayla. For the first time, she seemed at peace, making her more beautiful than ever. For the first time, her eyes sparkled with joy instead of grief. The smile on her face was real, not one she pasted on to hide her pain.

Thank you, God, for this miracle
, he said to himself.
And thank you, Kane Odell for your computer genius.
His heart soared. He could just imagine how Kayla must feel.

He introduced the FBI agents to Kayla as Special Agents Ray Gonzales and Chase Parrish. Ray was the shorter of the two, the one doing the interrogation. Chase took notes. On occasion, he’d ask a question of his own.

“Are you absolutely sure this is your son?” Agent Gonzales asked.

“Positive,” Kayla answered firmly. “Do a DNA test, whatever you have to do to prove it, but this is my Sam.”

Luke showed them the sketch Kayla had drawn of Sam. “Kayla drew this likeness the day after she escaped from the people Sinclair hired to kidnap and kill her.”

Mrs. Sinclair gasped. “That can’t be true.” She turned to her husband whose face turned as white as the tile floor.

The officers in the room ignored them, looked at the sketch, then at Sam. “Looks like him. But we will have to do a DNA test to be positive.”

Luke nodded.

Kayla gave them a contented smile.

“This is my Sam,” Kayla said, looking over at the Sinclairs, “Not theirs.”

“Your name is Kayla Sinclair?”

“No. It’s Kayla Hunter. My husband’s name was Sinclair. I took my mother’s maiden name after David died. Why would I use the name of a man who didn’t want his own child?”

The agent, Gonzales, cleared his throat. “Are these your husband’s parents?”

Kayla shrugged. “My husband told me he had no parents.”

Mrs. Sinclair grimaced. “He would say that,” she whispered.

Holding Sam tight, she leaned across the table, looked closely at David’s parents as if analyzing them.

“Why? Why didn’t he acknowledge you? Or you him? And why did you do this to us?”

No one answered her question. “I want an explanation.”

The room that moments earlier buzzed with conversation became silent. Everyone waited.

“David left home the day he graduated high school. It broke my heart. I didn’t know where he went and I didn’t know why.”

Mr. Sinclair didn’t look at his wife as she spoke. He didn’t look at the interrogating officers. His eyes were dead, as if he wasn’t even there. A chill swiped down Luke’s back. His wife might not know why David left home, but her husband did.

“Why didn’t he acknowledge you? Why did he tell me you were dead?”

“He hated us,” Mr. Sinclair said.

“Why?” Kayla persisted.

He shrugged.

Lying again, Luke thought.

“We struggled for every penny. It doesn’t make sense.” When they didn’t answer, Kayla added, “He seemed driven.”

“All of the Sinclair men are driven,” Mrs. Sinclair volunteered.

“I wanted him to go into the family business,” Mr. Sinclair said, his voice low. “He wanted something different.”

“That doesn’t explain anything. It certainly doesn’t explain why he lied and told me you were dead. David worked so hard. He wanted a law degree and looked forward to a career as a prosecutor. Everyone who knew him admired his work ethic and his determination to succeed.” She looked at first one then the other of his parents. “As his parents, you should have been proud of him. Instead, either you disowned him or he disowned you. What happened?”

“Why don’t you tell her the truth?” Luke suggested. Because so far, everything he’d heard had been either a lie or a half-truth.

Sinclair raised dark, cold eyes to Luke. The man was without emotion. And Luke doubted he cared about his son or his grandson.

“I wanted him to join me in my business.” His cell phone rang. Sinclair reached to answer it.

One of the FBI agents took it from him. “We’ll hang onto this for now.”

Sinclair paled.

What was the man hiding? There was more to the story than just another teen runaway.

“We had a PI check on him every so often. We knew when he married. And we knew his wife was expecting. We wanted him to come home,” Mr. Sinclair offered.

“And we wanted to be a part of our grandchild’s life,” Mrs. Sinclair added.

Kayla looked them in the eye, demanding more. Luke had never been so proud of her as he was now.

“Then what happened? Why did it end the way it did, with my kidnapping, with someone trying to kill me, with Sam being taken from me?”

Mrs. Sinclair paled. “The PI who followed David called us immediately after the accident. I knew then we were the cause.”

“How?”

“William had just talked to him. With our grandchild in the picture, there was no way we could remain in the background any longer. We just wanted him to come home.”

“So that was the call that sent David flying out of the house in a rage. I still don’t understand. Why wouldn’t he want you in his child’s life? I can see why you would want to see and know your grandchild. But why did you have me kidnapped and take Sam from me? And why did you want me dead?”

Luke’s gaze swept the room full of officers. “Have the Sinclairs been read their rights?” he asked.

“Of course,” Agent Parrish said.

Mr. Sinclair glowered.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Kayla asked.

“I want to make that call now,” Mr. Sinclair said.

His request was ignored.

“They told me you were dead,” Mrs. Sinclair whispered. “When they brought Will to me, I assumed everything was as it should be.”

“I’ve lived through hell this past month. I’ve been kidnapped, shot at, and had my baby taken away. Nothing has been as it should be.”

“I didn’t know,” Mrs. Sinclair said, her voice trembling.

“But you did, didn’t you?” Luke turned on Mr. Sinclair. “You not only knew, you were the one who hired Anatoli to do your dirty work.”

“I insist on making that call.”

“Not just yet,” Agent Parrish said.