Mommy Midwife (3 page)

He’d been to this house only once before, and that was a brief visit. He knew that Olivia had zero security. Any of the windows could be easily opened, and the door locks could be picked by a third-grader with a paper clip.

When he was satisfied that no one was lurking outside the house, he prepared to enter. This was the tricky part. If the intruders waited inside for an ambush, they’d have weapons trained on the door. Troy would have preferred going through a window but the casements were chest-high and climbing through would require both hands. Remembering her wish that he not destroy her property, he used the key, shoved the front door open and stepped back, using the solid log wall as a shield.

No gunfire. No sound from within. He rushed the entrance and went through the house, room by room, closet by closet, turning on lights as he went. The house was all clear. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t been robbed.

On his prior visit, he hadn’t made it as far as the bedroom, and he took a moment to look around. The furniture was traditional but not plain—a reflection of Olivia, who was a mix of sweet homespun and aggressive independence. He ran his fingertips across the front of a wardrobe that was painted with vines and purple columbines. The lamp on her bedside table had shiny crystals dangling from the shade.

If intruders had turned that lamp on, they would have been here after dark. Not that long ago. He hoped there hadn’t been a break-in. More likely, this was a simple case of Olivia leaving the light on and forgetting that she’d done so. Still, he knew better than to dismiss a threat without thoroughly checking it out.

The second bedroom was painted a soft blue, not unlike the color of her eyes. It was the nursery, the room where his baby boy would sleep. Would their son have her eyes? Troy swallowed the lump in his throat that came whenever he thought of the baby. Never in his life had he been the least bit sentimental, and he’d given considerable thought to why he was touched by the idea of having a family.

His age had something to do with these feelings. On his last birthday, Troy turned thirty-six. In most professions, he’d still be considered young, but that wasn’t true for special ops. His vision wasn’t as sharp as it should be for a sniper. His reflexes had slowed by a few milliseconds, enough that it made a difference. He wasn’t at his physical peak, and he realized that it was time for him to step back and take a more supervisory role. Becoming a father and having a family seemed like the natural next step in his life.

He liked the simple, clean furnishings in the nursery: a dark oak crib, matching changing table and rocking chair. Seated in the rocker was the teddy bear he’d sent—fuzzy and brown and dressed in camo fatigues. He wanted to see his son holding the bear, wanted to show him how to play catch and to take him fishing. He wanted to be a real part of his child’s life. Somehow, he had to convince Olivia.

He returned to her SUV where she had prudently stayed behind the steering wheel with the doors locked. With wide eyes, she peered through the driver’s side window.

“There’s nobody inside,” he said. He looked to the next obvious hiding place for an intruder. “Do you usually park in the garage?”

“Not when the weather is nice.”

“Leave your headlights on and hit the automatic door opener.”

Holding his weapon at the ready, he moved to the side of the square structure. The garage door squawked and rumbled as it folded up on itself. The interior held the typical junk that accumulates in a garage as well as ski equipment and a very nice mountain bike with heavy-duty tires.

Troy noticed the outline of a footprint in the dust on the concrete floor. It appeared to be a man-size boot, too large for Olivia. The print could have been made today or last week or a month ago. He checked the side door to the garage. It was open.

“Olivia,” he called to her. “Is this door usually locked?”

“It should be,” she yelled back to him. “But I usually don’t bother.”

None of the boxes or tools in the garage looked like they’d been disturbed. If an intruder had searched in here, he’d been incredibly careful. And why bother being so stealthy in a garage? It didn’t make sense.

Troy decided against mentioning the footprint. Not right now, anyway. He returned to her SUV. “I think we’re okay.”

“Are you sure? Could you tell if anything was stolen?”

“It doesn’t look like it.” Her nervousness seemed out of proportion for a light left on in a window, and it wasn’t like her to panic for no reason. “What’s going on? Have you been threatened before this?”

“Why would I be threatened? I’m just a midwife.”

As she pushed open her car door and climbed out, his gaze focused on her belly. He hadn’t seen her for two months, and she’d swelled up like a watermelon. His fingers itched to touch her roundness. “You look beautiful.”

“Yeah, right.” She lurched past him toward the cabin. “I’m gorgeous if you’re into pre-Columbian fertility goddesses.”

He followed in her wake, watching the sway of her hips under her purple scrubs. Pregnant women didn’t usually excite him, but he had an overpowering urge to caress her and hold her miraculous body against his.

Inside the cabin, she dropped her satchel-size purse on the green plaid sofa and peeled off her light sweater. Her breasts were full and ripe. Troy suppressed a growl. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll ask the questions,” she said as she turned to the left and strode into the kitchen. Striding didn’t exactly describe the way she moved. She rolled a bit from side to side as though she were walking on the deck of a ship.

She turned on the water and reached for a glass from the cabinet to the right of the sink. “First question. How did you know where to find me?”

“Wasn’t hard. I called the hospital where you usually work and found out you were there. When I pulled into the parking lot and didn’t see your car, I came here.” He paused. “The nurse told me that you were with a mom who was having triplets. How did that work out?”

“Amazing. That word is overused. People say everything is amazing, but this really was. Truly a miracle.” Her grin was pure happiness. “Next question. What are you doing here?”

He was sick and tired of popping the question that was always answered with an emphatic no. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“Since we’re playing a question game,” he said, “I have one for you. One I’ve never asked before.”

She took another sip of water and eyed him suspiciously. “All right. Shoot.”

“When you found out you were pregnant, what made you decide to keep the baby?”

“Dumb question,” she said. “I love babies and always planned to have a family. Plus, I’m thirty, which is a good age for a healthy pregnancy. And you played a part in my decision.”

“Did I?”

“Of course,” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, look at you. You’re physically healthy and fairly intelligent. I’d have to say that you’re an excellent candidate to be a sperm donor.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator and reached for the handle. Her hand dropped to her side. Frozen, she stared at the white refrigerator door where dozens of photographs were attached with magnets.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There was a photo of me, my sister and our parents on a vacation we took last year. It’s missing.”

“Are you certain?”

She pointed to a vacant space on the refrigerator door. “It was right here. And it’s gone. Someone was in my cabin.”

Chapter Two

After Troy got down on his hands and knees to check around the edges of the cabinets and the floor where a photo might have fallen, he was ready to believe her. An intruder or intruders had entered her cabin and stolen a picture from the fridge. Why bother? A straightforward burglary would have made more sense.

“I want you to look around,” he said. “See if anything else was taken, maybe jewelry or documents.”

“I don’t have any valuable jewelry.”

“A family photo doesn’t have any intrinsic value, either. Just take a look.”

He followed her as she quickly rifled through a small jewelry box in her bedroom. In the living room, she sat at her desk and started sorting through the file drawers.

His thoughts focused on risk assessment. On intelligence missions, he was accustomed to walking into a situation and determining the course of action. He needed to know why her house had been broken into. If he figured out what the bad guys wanted, he’d know how far they’d go to get it.

“Was there anything unusual in that photo?” he asked.

“Not really. We were standing in the backyard at my sister’s house in Denver.”

“Who took the picture?”

“My sister’s boyfriend.”

“Tell me about the background. And the clothing.”

Olivia squinted as she remembered. “It was at a family barbecue last summer. There was a blue spruce behind us. We were all dressed casual. My dad had on a god-awful pair of plaid shorts. He’s tall and has really skinny legs. Like a stork.”

He nodded. Actually, he’d learned a great deal about her parents. The life history of Richard and Sharon Laughton made for interesting reading, especially for someone like Troy who had a high security clearance. “Can you think of any reason someone would steal this particular picture?”

“It was just us. The Laughton family at play.”

The obvious answer was that the photo would be used for identification. Though pregnancy had vastly altered her appearance, she still resembled the woman in the photo.

Troy had only one other clue: the footprint in the garage. Why would the intruder have gone into her garage other than to search? A lightbulb went on in his head. The bad guys were hiding in the garage, setting an ambush. “I know what’s going on.”

“Oh, good.” She swiveled in the chair behind her desk and looked up at him. “Because I can’t find anything missing in my documents. Most of my confidential stuff is on my laptop computer, and I took that with me to the hospital.”

“The intruder or intruders were in your garage, waiting for you to come home.”

Her hand fluttered to her mouth, covering a frightened gasp. “Do you think they were there when I pulled up?”

“It’s possible.” Troy cursed himself for not searching the garage first. He could have ended this before it escalated.

“Why? What do they want?”

“Nothing is missing. So I’m guessing that their intention wasn’t robbery.”

“Then what?”

“They wanted to take...you.”

She looked away from him, shielding her gaze as though she had something to hide. “A kidnap attempt.”

“You don’t seem too surprised.”

“I’ve had a feeling for the past couple of days.” Her hands rested protectively on her belly. “It’s been like someone is watching me. Earlier tonight in the hospital parking lot, I thought I heard a gun being cocked.”

The situation was more intense than he thought. They needed to retreat to a safe location. “You have five minutes to get packed.”

“Kidnapping doesn’t make any sense.”

“Later, we’ll talk. Now, get packed.”

“No. I’m not going to leave my house until I understand.”

He braced his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned close. Being near her was a distraction, for sure. The blue of her eyes contrasted her healthy tan and the pink flush of her cheeks. Was she glowing? Later, he’d take the time to appreciate the miraculous changes in her body. Right now, he needed for her to cooperate.

“The standard reasons for kidnapping,” he said, “are money or leverage. The intruders want to use you and our baby to get something they want.”

“It can’t be for ransom money. My family isn’t superrich.”

“Your mom and dad are in Denver this weekend.”

“How do you know that?” she demanded.

“I’m in intelligence,” he reminded her. “They’re in town, right?”

“Staying with my sister, Bianca. They want me to move in with her until after the baby is born.”

“They want to protect you,” he said.

“From what?”

He held her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “I know about your parents.”

She blinked, an automatic response from someone who had spent her entire life living with lies. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Richard and Sharon Laughton work for the CIA. They’re spies.”

* * *

T
HOUGH IT WAS
still hard to believe that she was the target of a kidnapping plot, Olivia couldn’t take chances in her present condition. She had to leave her cabin.

In the bedroom, she threw some of her belongings into a suitcase. Most of her pregnancy clothes didn’t fit anymore, making packing easy. She took everything she could still wear, even the fancy, lavender crepe toga-style gown that she’d bought for a hospital fundraiser.

Troy stood watch, slouching against the doorjamb with his gun in hand. Though his posture was relaxed, she could see the tension coiling through him. At the slightest provocation, he was ready to strike. This was a side of him that she hadn’t seen before—a little bit scary but also reassuring. If he hadn’t shown up at her house when he did, she could have been in real trouble.

“You know,” she said, “my parents aren’t the kind of spies who do what you do. They don’t go on active missions.”

“Sure.” Somehow, he made that one terse word sound like he didn’t believe her.

“They work in embassies. My dad is a paper-pusher, and my mother is a cultural attaché. She hangs out with ballet dancers and artists. She arranges events.”

“Are you done packing?”

She’d already scooped all her bathroom toiletries and hair stuff into a plastic bag that was at the bottom of the suitcase. Tossing in a book from the nightstand, she gave him a nod. “That’s everything.”

“We’re taking my car,” he said.

She objected. “There’s nothing wrong with my car, and I’m going to need it when we’re in Denver.”

“If it becomes necessary to use evasive driving techniques, you’ll be glad I wrecked the rental instead of your car.”

A shudder went through her. “I hope that’s a joke.”

“I’m not laughing.” His eyebrows pinched in a scowl that made his dark eyes even more fierce and intense. “From now on, we do things my way. This is my job, Olivia. I know how to keep you safe. Don’t argue with me every step of the way.”