The Sheriff and the Baby (12 page)

Matt gazed out at the moonlit snow. The weather had finally cleared and the sky was sprinkled with glittering stars.

He’d come into the kitchen to fix them something to eat. Beth’s revelations had left him tormented and confused.

On the one hand, it was his duty to report the criminal activities of members of the LAPD. On the other, he had to protect Beth. But how could he effectively achieve that without exposing her to more danger?

Damn computers! They had such an indiscriminate way of disseminating information.

If he started investigating anything to do with Beth’s disappearance, it would alert the people who were after her. Hennessey would be all over them in no time.

Matt had been a cop long enough to know they’d be totally unscrupulous in their methods to get hold of what they wanted.

W
HEN HE CARRIED A TRAY
loaded with grilled cheese sandwiches, a soda for him and glass of milk for Beth into the living room, he found her staring into the fire. He could tell by the way she sat so erectly, her jaw tensed, her hands clenched in her lap, that she wasn’t much calmer than when he’d left her there fifteen minutes earlier.

They ate in silence, Beth only picking at her sandwich. “Do you have any idea what happened to the drugs Hennessey claimed Marcus was keeping from the rest of his buddies?” he finally asked.

Beth glanced up at him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because if there’s some physical evidence of their criminal activities, it’ll be easier to nail them.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “You
promised
you wouldn’t pursue them!”

Matt shook his head. “I said I’d make arrangements to throw them off your trail. I didn’t say anything about not going after them.”

“It’ll never be over, will it?” She looked back at the fire, her expression grim. “They’ll come after you, Matt, and they’ll kill you to get to me. They’ll kill my
baby
to get to me! Sarah and I will never be truly safe.”

“You and Sarah won’t be safe as long as they’re still out there, free to carry on their criminal activities—whether I get involved or not. I can do this discreetly.” He drew his hand through his hair. “But I need evidence.”

Beth looked at him for a long time, as though weighing her options. Finally she expelled a breath and said, “Promise me this won’t blow up in our faces.
Promise me!
”

He nodded. “I promise.”

She went to the fireplace and pried a piece of loose mortar from above the mantel and handed him a key.

“Like I told you, I found this the day before Marcus’s funeral. I was curious about it because we used to have a safety-deposit box, but Marcus said he’d returned the key after we’d had a home safe installed….” She paused for a moment as if wondering whether she should reveal anything else.

“Go on,” he said, suspecting that what she’d told him previously wasn’t all he needed to know.

“The box contained papers, a list of names in a notebook, details of transactions and other things I didn’t really understand. There was also a lot of money. And another key.”

“Did you use that key?”

She nodded. “Of course I did. I was curious to know why there was money—so much money—in our old safety-deposit box.

“I needed answers to the dozens of questions racing through my mind. Where could the money have come from? Did it belong to someone else? Was there some sort of mix-up at the bank? Why was Marcus’s handwriting in that notebook? What did it all mean? I
had
to know what was going on. It…it made me wonder about the real circumstances of his death.

“I didn’t know what box number the key was for, so I took a guess—627, our anniversary—and it turned out to be correct. That set off alarm bells. If this was police business, why use our personal safety-deposit box? The second key opened a much larger box containing bags of white powder.” She shrugged. “I’m assuming it was heroin or cocaine.”

“What did you do then?”

“Do?”
She looked at him, horrified. “I didn’t do anything, of course! I was in shock. I needed to think and couldn’t do it in the bank vault. I kept looking over my shoulder, thinking someone would turn up and arrest me for drug possession. So I left everything just the way I’d found it, closed the boxes up and went home. I tried to convince myself it must’ve been connected to Marcus’s undercover work. I was going to turn the key in. But something—I can’t put my finger on it…an instinct that this
wasn’t right—told me to hang on to it. Like I said, if the money and drugs had anything to do with his police work, then why wasn’t it stored somewhere official?”

“Exactly. That was smart.”

She smiled at the compliment. “I’m not sure I
was
so smart. If I’d left the key where I’d found it, maybe I wouldn’t have had to go on the run.”

“Yes, you would, since the alternative is…you’d be dead.”

She frowned at his harsh statement and he explained, “Because even if you’d never found the key, Hennessey would’ve had to dispose of you to prevent being exposed for what he was.
Is,
” he corrected. “But if Morgan’s search was so thorough, why did he fail to find the key? You said you took it home.”

She nodded. “I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t think straight. The implications sickened me. I didn’t want the key in the house, so I buried it in the front garden. I had to get the stress of the funeral over with before I could deal with anything more.

“But I didn’t get a chance to because Hennessey and Morgan showed up and turned the house upside down, looking for it. Then they threatened me and my baby. He gave me twenty-four hours to come up with the key.
Or else.
I didn’t need to be Einstein to know what ‘or else’ meant.”

She glanced back at the fireplace and shuddered. “Maybe I should’ve handed it over to them. Maybe they would’ve been satisfied with that and gone away and left me alone—and Sarah wouldn’t be in danger now!”

Matt caught her chin and turned her toward him. “If you’d handed it over, you’d have been dead ten seconds later. They’re desperate men. They can’t afford any loose
ends. Given the circumstances—not knowing who you could trust—you did the right thing.”

Beth looked as though she wasn’t so sure. “I’ve asked myself a thousand times—why didn’t I mail them back to the LAPD and let them take it from there?”

“Them? I thought you only took one key.”

She nodded. “But I also took the notebook, as insurance.”

“Where is it?”

“At the bottom of the woodpile under about six feet of snow.”

Matt smiled. “And you were going to retrieve that when?”

She shrugged. “I was hoping…I was hoping someone would realize that Hennessey was crooked, he’d be arrested and then I’d feel safe about sending in the evidence.”

Matt had to concede that if he’d been a pregnant woman whose life had been threatened, the last thing he’d want to do was risk exposing himself to anyone within the department who might be in on the corruption. “Anything else you’ve got hidden around here that I might need to know about?”

“Well, there’s about thirty thousand dollars at the bottom of the woodpile, too. Minus a few thousand I’ve needed for day-to-day expenses. And I paid Hank six months’ rent in advance.” She pulled a face. “Just as well I stole some of that money, huh? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to live.”

So at least part of the APB was correct, since she was wanted for felony theft. Not that Matt had any intention of calling her on it.

Beth shook her head in disbelief. “I thought I loved my husband and we were happy, we shared every thing. But when they came to the house and threatened me and my
baby, something inside me died. It was as if Marcus had been living a whole other life—he was someone I didn’t know at all. If I couldn’t trust Marcus, then who could I trust? I was so angry he’d put us in such a dangerous position. So hurt and betrayed. Any love I’d ever had for him died at that moment.” She squeezed her eyes closed as though she could shut out the memory. “I decided the only way we’d be safe is if I got as far away from L.A. as possible, so I packed my briefcase with a few things, dug up the key and pretended I was going to work for the day. It was just as well, because Morgan followed me.”

Matt stroked her cheek. “Like I said—that was smart.”

She allowed another small smile of gratitude. “At work, I changed into a cleaner’s uniform and found where my grandmother had left her car for me under the building next door. The disguise and the different car fooled Morgan and I managed to slip past him.”

“And you ended up here in Spruce Lake,” Matt supplied as he returned the key to its hiding place, then drew her back to the sofa.

She nodded and sat down, her legs beneath her. “I loved being in the mountains. They represented the new life I’d chosen. The scenery was the complete opposite of L.A. There were wide-open spaces, endless blue skies and plenty of fresh air. The people—whenever I ventured out to do a couple of errands—were friendly. I felt…safe here.”

“But you kept your grandmother’s car.”

“I needed it for transport and nobody traced me to it. Until I ran off the road.”

“And I ran a make on the license plates,” he finished for her.

She nodded, her lips pressed together. “Now do you
understand why I told you so many lies about my name, about where I lived, why I ran away from the hospital?”

Matt nodded and smoothed her hair. “So, back to my first question. Why did you name me as Sarah’s father?”

“I…didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t name Marcus, I just couldn’t. After what he’d done, he’d forfeited that right. I didn’t ever want to be reminded of him and how he’d betrayed us.”

Her mouth turned up in a bittersweet smile. “You saved our lives and you were so kind to me in the hospital. I couldn’t think of anyone more fitting to name as Sarah’s father.”

Matt felt inordinately cheered. Almost from the beginning Beth had believed he’d be a good father.

“I thought I could weave a wonderful fantasy around your name if Sarah ever asked me about Matt O’Malley. I…I’m sorry.”

Matt could barely wipe the smile off his face. “It’s okay,” he said and smoothed a tendril of hair from her face. “It led me back to you, and for that I’m eternally grateful.”

“Then you forgive me?”

Since Beth’s confession, the last of his doubts about her had evaporated. Her reasons for naming him as Sarah’s father filled him with a happiness that went clear down to his toes. Maybe, just maybe, she could be persuaded to trust him. Without reservation.

Matt cupped her chin and said, “I couldn’t think of anything nicer than being called Sarah’s dad. Except maybe this…” He placed a tender kiss on her lips and almost drowned in their welcoming warmth and softness. He held her against his heart, content for now just to hold her close—until Sarah wakened and started to cry.

“My turn to get her,” Beth whispered and eased out of his arms. “Thank you for believing me,” she said, her voice
shaking. “It’s been such a terrible burden to bear alone.” And then she was gone, before he could react, before he could say anything.

Matt tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he watched her leave. He got up and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. If he could stop thinking about Beth, the woman, and concentrate instead on what to do about her situation, it might take his mind off wanting to make love to her. He sure didn’t want to go out and split wood in the moonlight again.

In the living room, he stoked the fire, then paced the floor, listening to Beth cooing to Sarah in her room.

He looked at the sofa. He didn’t want to sleep there tonight. Alone. He wanted to sleep with Beth, his arms around her….
Think about what you can do with the key. The key, the key,
his mind urged, but all he got was a vision of Beth holding it up, her eyes pleading…

F
IFTEEN MINUTES LATER
, he was no closer to a solution, having discounted a number of alternatives. A sound from the kitchen made him instantly alert. A dim light glowed there and he strode toward it, every nerve tensed for battle.

He rounded the corner silently, then stopped short when he saw the scene before him. Beth was at the refrigerator, retrieving something from inside. The fridge light glowed through her nightgown, outlining every feminine curve.

Matt cleared his throat. Startled, she dropped the carton of milk she held.

“Oh! You frightened me,” she said and turned toward him.

Matt retrieved some paper towels and bent to clean up the mess.

“I…I’m sorry. I’m not usually so clumsy,” she apologized and crouched down to help him.

Her arm brushed against his, sending tentacles of awareness creeping up his spine.

He stood abruptly and washed his hands. He wanted so much to explore a relationship with Beth. But until they’d resolved the situation she was in, he needed a clear head. Getting romantically involved with Beth right now could endanger them all.

When he turned back to her, she was frowning. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said too quickly, her voice husky with the tension they both felt. She licked her lips.

In two strides he was in front of her. Beth’s frown returned and she backed up against the kitchen wall. She raised her chin defiantly as though challenging him to kiss her.

Matt was acutely aware of her nearness, could sense her chest rising and falling. To hell with keeping a clear head; he needed her. If he took one more tiny step toward her, her breasts would brush his chest. “What would you do if I kissed you?” he asked softly.

“I’d let you,” she replied and raised her chin a little higher.

Matt almost gave in to the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her long and hard. Instead, he braced his forearms against the wall above her head and bent to touch his lips to hers.

A sigh of pleasure escaped her, urging him to deepen the kiss, and he did.

B
ETH WAS CERTAIN SHE’D
never experienced anything so arousing in her life. And Matt was barely touching her!