Lullabies and Lies (24 page)

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Authors: Mallory Kane

BOOK: Lullabies and Lies
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The date.
Sunny tried to ignore the gun. What was so important about the date?

“June 30th,” she muttered. In her mind’s eye, she saw the entry in Griff’s database. June 30, 1991 was the same day Griff’s sister had disappeared. Then she remembered an article in the newspaper archives about a stolen child.

Oh dear God!
“You stole Marianne. The toddler in Centennial Park, fifteen years ago.”

“See!” Jane waved the gun. “You’ve figured it all out. Now you have to die.”

Chapter Eleven

Griff watched as the back door opened. He trained his gun on it, his heart beating so wildly that he could hardly hold the weapon steady.

A dark-haired teenager carrying an infant carrier ran out the door toward her car. It had to be Mia.

He stepped in front of her, holstering his gun.

When she saw him she gasped and opened her mouth to scream, but he held out his badge. “Shh. I’m Griff Stone. I talked to you on the phone about your mother,” he said softly, keeping an eye on the back door and his gun hand ready at his side. “Is that Emily?”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “I don’t understand—”

“Who’s in the house?”

“Aunt Janie, and Emily’s mother, I think.” She wiped her eyes. “She has Mom’s book.”

“Get in your car and drive to McCarthy Avenue. There are police there. They’ll take care of you.”

The girl nodded, but she didn’t move.

“Go on,” he said gently.

He turned toward the door, his limbs tingling with a combination of relief and fear.

Emily was safe.
Thank God.

But what about Sunny? Worry ate at his gut. He moved carefully toward the back door and eased it open. It was dark inside the house. He blinked and shook his head, hoping his eyes would dark-adapt quickly.

He heard voices.

Carefully, he moved through the kitchen into the dining room. The murmur of voices increased in volume. He recognized Sunny’s voice, and the familiar melodic tones nearly undid him. She was all right, so far. Hot relief tightened his scalp.

Then he heard the other voice—harsh, nervous. It was
Jane
. At least she was talking.

Just as he approached the archway into the living room, the voices stopped.

He heard the creak of unoiled wheels rolling over wood.

Then a gunshot.

Oh God, no!

He rounded the doorway, weapon up, ready to fire. For a horrible instant, he couldn’t see anything in the darkness. Then a shadow moved.

Both women were down!

“Sunny!” he shouted.

The figure closest to him shoved a desk chair in his direction and he saw the glint of sunlight on metal.

He dived to the floor and rolled just as a bullet whizzed past his ear. Damn it, he couldn’t fire. He didn’t know where Sunny was.

“Griff!”

Her voice came from his left.

He turned away from the voice and toward the source
of the bullet, catching another flash of light. He vaulted up and toward the glint. His hand knocked the gun away as he slammed into the slight body in his path.

Jane Gross.
It had to be. He wrapped an arm around her and pinned her to the floor.

Her harsh curses echoed in his ears.

The back door opened and a voice shouted, “Police!”

The lights flashed on. An officer stepped up to him and crouched down, brandishing handcuffs. “I’ve got her, sir.”

Griff rolled off and let the officer cuff her. “The gun’s over there somewhere,” he said, picking himself up off the floor as police filled the room.

He whirled, apprehension squeezing his chest. “Sunny!”

Where was she? Was she all right?

SUNNY SAT UP, blinking in the bright light. She’d hit her head on the edge of the desk when she’d shoved the desk chair at Jane and dropped to the floor.

She had to get the book.
Her head was fuzzy. She touched her temple and felt dampness.

Book?
It took her a fraction of a second to remember.

Bess’s book of children. She’d dropped it. She had to find it—it was her only bargaining chip. She felt around her until her fingers touched the smooth-grained leather.

A familiar voice echoed in her ears. She was still a little dazed. Had she dreamed Griff had saved her?

She slid the book into her pocket. She had to hold on to it.

“Sunny?”

There was his voice again. She blinked and cringed as a shadow towered over her.

Then strong familiar arms lifted her.

Griff
.

“Are you hurt? Sunny? What happened to your head?”

She couldn’t talk. All she could do was wrap her arms around him and burrow her nose in his neck. Eventually she realized she was crying, and he was holding her tightly.

“Have you been shot?” he asked. “Are you all right?”

His voice sounded strange—strained, unsteady.

All she could do was nod and cling to him. He was here. He’d found her.

Then Jane’s harsh curses penetrated her confused brain and everything came back to her with brilliant clarity.

“Oh, my God! Emily!” She pushed at Griff’s chest as panic filled her. “Where is she? Where’s Mia?”

“It’s okay.” Griff kept one arm loosely around her and touched her face with his other hand. “The police have her. She’s fine. We’ll go see her in just a minute, after the EMTs make sure you’re all right.”

“No!” She shoved at him. “Now!” She broke away from him and pushed through the melee toward the door.

One of the officers grasped her arm, and she tried to shake free.

“No! Let me go!”

A female voice said, “Ma’am, I’ll take you. They’re just over here.”

Still frantic, Sunny let the woman lead her out of the house. She searched the backyard, but didn’t see anything except police cars.

The policewoman spoke on her shoulder mic, then pointed toward one of the police cars.

Sunny watched the passenger door open. Mia got out, holding Emily. Her precious baby.

With a cry of joy, Sunny ran, her arms out.

She grabbed up her daughter, her chest burning with relief. Her sweet, warm, soft baby. Happy cleansing tears streamed down her face.

“Oh, Emily…” she sobbed, hugging the tiny, familiar body against her, cradling the fine little head, hearing her frightened whimpers. “I was so afraid…”

Her heart felt like a big balloon, swelling with love.

“I know, baby,” she murmured, trying to swallow her tears. She rocked Emily gently from side to side. “Mommy’s scaring you. I’m so sorry, Emily. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s got you now, and I will never ever let you go.” She pressed her lips to one perfect little ear. “Mommy’s got you now,” she whispered on a quiet sob.

GRIFF TURNED AWAY. Blinking against the stinging in his eyes, he headed back toward the house. There was a lot of work to do before he was through here. For now, it was still his job.

That wasn’t the only reason he’d turned away, though. If he’d watched Sunny and her baby for another second, he’d have cried.

And Griffin Stone had never cried.

He’d seen his share of reunions. But none had ever affected him like this. The joy and love that radiated across Sunny’s beautiful face as she held her baby penetrated him to the core.

His own heart swelled in echoed joy. He had kept his promise. He had helped her find her daughter. It was all she’d asked of him.

He ran his palm across his eyes as Captain Sparks approached.

“Good job, son.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“And thank God there were no casualties.”

Griff nodded.

“I have some news for you.”

Griff sniffed and looked up.

“My dispatcher just called. A Hiram Cogburn showed up at the police station, declaring he has evidence that will put Jane and Ed Gross in prison for the rest of their lives. Says he followed you and Ms. Loveless here to Philadelphia.”

“Cogburn?” Natasha had mentioned that name as the lawyer who drew up papers for Mia Raymond’s adoption. “Does he have an old green Plymouth?”

“Should I ask?”

“Never mind. I’ll check him out later.”

Sparks shrugged. “I’ve got an officer taking his statement. Meanwhile, the officers here will sift through everything, looking for Ms. Raymond’s book. I suppose you want to be in on the questioning of Jane Gross.”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“We’ll be talking to Mia Raymond, too.”

Griff glanced back toward the car. “Take her to see her mother first.”

SUNNY SAT IN THE BACKSEAT of the police car, with Emily’s sweet head resting on her shoulder as she listened to her daughter’s soft even breaths.

Her eyes burned from crying, and she couldn’t stop smiling or kissing her sweet baby’s face. Her heart ached with joy and relief. Every so often, a tear would escape and run down her cheek.

Beside her, Mia sat up. “They’re arresting Aunt Janie.”

Sunny opened her eyes. Two police officers were leading Jane Gross out of the house. But it wasn’t Jane who held Sunny’s attention.

Griff stood by the back door, talking with the police captain. He looked tired. His shoulders were not quite so square, and he occasionally rubbed his chest or wiped his face. His hair was tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it countless times.

He glanced toward them. Sunny’s heart fluttered. She couldn’t see his eyes from here, but she felt them.

She’d gotten used to him being there. She’d allowed herself to believe in his promise of strength and safety. She’d fallen in love with him.

How was she going to live without him?

He and the captain turned and went back inside the house.

“Officer,” Sunny said to the uniformed policewoman sitting in the driver’s seat. “How much longer will they be in there?”

“I believe they’re searching for a book, ma’am. Some sort of journal.”

Mia gasped quietly. Emily cooed in her sleep.

The leather journal in Sunny’s pocket. She’d forgotten all about it. She needed to give it to Griff. But first…

She glanced toward Mia, taking in her dark hair and wide eyes, the fine structure of her face and her slender grace. The niggling thought that had bothered her from the first moment she’d laid eyes on Mia began to fit together with other facts in her mind like pieces of a puzzle. Mia’s age, her general appearance, the date Bess Raymond had written in her book.

If Sunny was right…a thrill swirled through her. “Is Jane really your aunt, Mia?”

“No.”

“How is she connected with your mother?”

Mia let out a shaky breath. “Mom kept children for Jane for years. I think—” Her voice broke and she stopped.

Sunny shifted in her seat and looked at the teenager sitting beside her. “It’s okay, Mia. We already know what Jane was doing.”

“I…think she stole babies. I hadn’t seen her in years. But when I was a kid, she came around all the time, always with a different baby.”

A lump grew in Sunny’s throat. “Do you know why your mother helped her?”

Mia put her fingers to her lips, stifling a little hiccupping sob. She hung her head and nodded. “Because of me.”

Sunny’s heart drummed against her chest wall. The erratic rhythm disturbed Emily and she began to whimper.

“Will you hold Emily for me?”

Mia looked up in surprise. “Sure.”

Sunny kissed her baby and nuzzled her downy head. “Here’s Mia, sweetie. You know Mia. She’s been taking care of you.”

With one hand still patting her baby as Mia held her, Sunny dug into her slacks pocket as her mind raced.

It all made sense—the date the Grosses had disappeared from Nashville, the newspaper archive reporting a toddler missing from Centennial Park on the same day.

With fingers that shook, Sunny set the leather book on her knees.

“That’s Mom’s book.”

She nodded. “Yes, it is. Officer, could you turn on the overhead light?”

The light flared.

On the very first page was the information Sunny sought. There, printed neatly, was the proof of Mia’s identity.

Baby girl, eighteen months old, June 30, 1991, Nashville, Tennessee.

Sunny’s heart skipped a beat. “Your mom isn’t your real mother, is she?”

“Mom said the first moment she saw me she knew I was her daughter. My mom’s a good person.”

Sunny nodded. “I know she is.”

“Mom kept me, and because of that, Janie made her keep the babies all those years.” Mia took a sobbing breath. “I’m so sorry. I tried to take care of Emily. I’m so—”

“Mia.” Sunny put her trembling hand on the girl’s knee. “How did you get the name Mia?”

“Mom said it was what I called myself. She said it was more like Me-ann, but she named me Mia.”

Sunny’s heart pounded. Me-ann. Marianne. Everything made sense. But she had to be sure. She didn’t want to hurt either Mia or Griff needlessly. “Look at me, Mia.”

Mia raised her gaze to Sunny’s. Her wide, dark-fringed eyes glittered in the harsh glow of the car’s dome light.

Glittered like amethysts
.

“Your eyes—”

Mia smiled sheepishly. “I know. They’re weird. Mom
says they’re angels’ eyes. Who ever heard of purple eyes?”

Laughter bubbled up from Sunny’s chest. Joyous, healing laughter. “Oh, Mia. Your mom’s right. They are angels’ eyes. And I’ve heard of them. I’ve even seen them.” She leaned over and hugged Mia, who looked at her quizzically.

A metallic voice sounded. The officer listened, then spoke.

“Yes, sir. On our way.” She cranked the car.

Sunny started. “No, wait, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got orders to take both of you to the hospital.”

“No! I have to talk to Griff—to Agent Stone.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I was told to tell you that Special Agent Stone will meet you there later.”

“But this is important.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The officer pulled out into the street and drove them away from Bess Raymond’s house.

It wasn’t until they reached the hospital that Sunny remembered she was holding the piece of evidence the police were after.

A DULL HEADACHE was hammering inside Griff’s skull by the time he got to the hospital. The call had come through about a half hour ago.

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