Operation Bassinet

by Joyce Sullivan

  STEF SURPRISED MITCH by coming up with an impressive cover story. He never would have thought of it himself, but it fit Stef Shelton and it sounded genuine.

  An air of nervousness hovered in Stef’s overbright smile as the elevator rose at warp speed to the seventeenth floor of the Collingwood Corporation’s offices in the heart of the financial district. Her black leather coat open, Stef looked gorgeous and sassy in a short turquoise sweater dress with a soft cowl neck and black leather boots that laced up to her calves. A black leather belt was slung provocatively across her hips and caught the eye of every hot-blooded male they passed, including Mitch’s. He had to look hard beneath the makeup and the color brushed on to her cheeks to see the freckles that sometimes made her look as though she were still a vulnerable teenager.

  A slender brunette wearing a caramel wool pantsuit and a jewelry store heist around her neck, waited for them at the reception desk. They’d had to call up to Sable’s office from the lobby and were each given a visitor’s pass. The Guardian had increased security measures in the building since the explosion that had killed the Collingwoods.

  Sable greeted Stef with the effusive smile of a talk show host and gave her an air kiss. Mitch instantly pegged her for a cobra. Sleek, spitting and dangerous.

  Stef flushed becomingly. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” Mitch thought a man could spend a lifetime watching the color spill over her cheeks like the first blush of the sun touching the sky, before he caught himself and obliterated the thought.

  “I really should have called sooner,” Stef said, sweetly apologetic.

  Sable waved a manicured hand studded with enough diamonds to cut a plate-glass window. “Nonsense, I’m happy to see you. Though I’m afraid it’ll be a brief visit. I have a meeting in twenty minutes.” She turned unusual silvery eyes on Mitch. “Who’s your handsome escort?”

  Mitch felt as if he’d been laid out spread-eagle on the carpet with metal stakes driven through his hands and feet.

  “This is Evan Mitchell. He’s a biographer.”

  Sable’s plucked brows rose. “Really? How interesting.”

  Stef didn’t miss a beat. She glanced uncertainly at Mitch. “Well, I hope you still feel that way when I tell you the reason for my visit.”

  Sable gave a throaty laugh. “Now I’m definitely intrigued. Come into my office. How’s Keely? Do you have pictures?”

  Mitch ceased worrying about Stef’s ability to pull this off when she produced a cache of pictures from her purse. She didn’t have to act to be a proud, adoring mom. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t have pictures? She was so cute in her Halloween costume this year. I sewed it for her. She was an orange-striped tabby. She’s so cute.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Stef dealt Sable a small stack of photos as if they were playing cards.

  Sable slowly sifted through the pictures as they traveled down a hallway appointed with a series of water-color landscapes of the New York City skyline. “O-oh, she’s adorable. I’ll bet she keeps you busy.”

  Mitch thought he detected a note of envy in Sable’s voice. But maybe, Sable, like him, recognized a mother who truly loved being a mother. God, had his mother ever carried his picture in her wallet? Or had she thrown his school pictures away like she’d thrown him away? His jaw clenched with iron-hard determination to rescue Stef’s little girl. Give her a mommy who’d appreciate every wonder of her budding life. Every child deserved that.

  Sable gestured toward a door. “Here’s my office. Please, sit. Can I offer you some coffee?”

  “No, thank you. We’re fine,” Stef assured her as they each took a seat in the brocade-covered chairs clustered around Sable’s ornately carved desk. Mitch suspected the gold leaf on the desk was as genuine as the gold chains around her neck. “Now, before I begin, I just want to say that I know you’re busy and I’ll completely understand if you say no to my request.”

  A guarded smile hovered on Sable’s lips. “So noted. Spell it out for me.”

  “It’s an idea that I had for Keely so she’d know her dad, know who he was.” Stef began haltingly. “I wanted to give her a book about Brad’s life. A biography, actually. And I’ve asked Evan to write it.”

  Sable eased back in her chair and Mitch felt her eyes slide over his torso as if she were slathering oil on him. He gave her an encouraging smile.

  The cobra had the audacity to touch the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. “What a thoughtful idea, Stephanie. But I’m still unclear as to how I can help.”

  “I was hoping you’d be willing to write something about Brad—stories, anecdotes. Or allow Evan to interview you if you’d prefer to do it that way. It would only have to be a few pages. Brad enjoyed his work at Office Outfitters so much—it was a big part of his life. I thought you would know his history with the company better than anyone.”

  A shadow of pain—or regret—flickered through Sable’s silvery eyes. “Brad was a good man—irreplaceable as far as I was concerned, but that’s water under the bridge now. Of course I’ll be happy to contribute something—for Keely.”

  Stef’s smile was irresistible. “That would be wonderful, Sable! Oh, and I was also hoping that you might be able to give me the names of other people Brad worked with. Maybe some of them would be willing to contribute a story, as well.”

  “Hmm.” Sable paused, considering. “Your request should really be made through Simon Findlay. He’s the Director of Human Resources and Corporate Relations. But he’s only going to quote you some rules and say no.” She pulled a face. “Mixing personal pursuits with work is an alien concept around here, but things are lightening up a bit now that Kendrick Dwyer is our new CEO. There are rumors circulating at the espresso machine that he gave David Younge, the guy who replaced Ken as Chief Financial Officer, a month’s personal leave to be with his family. So maybe there’s some humanity yet to be had in this company.”

  Mitch felt Sable’s gaze drift back to him. “How about we do this, Evan? I’ll give you a few names as long as you promise to talk to the employees during their breaks and don’t make a pest of yourself. I’ll have my secretary prepare a list and fax or e-mail it to you by the end of the day. And maybe we can meet for drinks and I’ll share what I can about Brad. Writing is not one of my strengths.”

  Mitch had a feeling one of her strengths was sharing body parts. He pulled a business card from his pocket, complete with a cover address, phone number and e-mail address provided by The Guardian’s amazing resources. He turned on the wattage, feeling as if he were in a pickup bar. “How about I call you later and we’ll arrange a convenient time?”

  Sable took the card with a female purr. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Stef rose from her chair. “We should really be going. Thank you, Sable. From me and Keely. You know she loves that blanket you sent. It’s her special blanket.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Stef turned wide green-gold eyes on Mitch. “Evan, would you mind waiting outside in the hall? I just wanted to share one private thing with Sable.”

  Mitch didn’t like this unscheduled change in plans, but he had no choice but to acquiesce. “Sure, no problem. Nice meeting you, Sable. I look forward to our interview.”

  He ducked out into the hall and paced a path in the carpet. What the hell was Stef up to?

  STEF’S HEART beat double time as the door closed behind Mitch, granting her a few moment’s privacy with Sable. He was probably going to be furious with her for this, but she didn’t care. Brad was her husband. She had every right to ask questions and to find out the truth.

  “He’s a catch. Hunky and cerebral. Are you and Evan involved?” Sable asked, leaning back in her chair.

  Stef blinked, taken aback. It was bad enough she was attracted to Mitch. Sleeping with him was out of the question. He was making it his personal obsession to destroy her life. “Definitely not. It’s too soon, anyway.”

  “Not that I’m not happy about your answer,�
� Sable said slyly, “but it’s been well over two years since Brad died.”

  “Actually, that was what I wanted to talk to you about privately, Sable. Brad’s death.”

  Stef felt perspiration dot her brow. Was it her imagination or did Sable look slightly on edge? But it was too late to be a coward about this. She had to find out if Brad had been involved in what happened to their baby. “I was wondering when you saw Brad last and what he was like.”

  Sable tilted her head to one side and frowned. “I can’t remember the precise date. We had a beer somewhere and he showed me pictures of Keely’s birth. I was concerned he hadn’t found another job yet and I was trying to encourage him. I gave him glowing references.”

  “I know. You were very supportive. It’s just…” Stef paused, struggling to find the right words.

  Sable touched Stef’s arm. “Talk to me. It’s just what?”

  “The police think his death was an accident, but I can’t help wondering if Brad killed himself.” Scalding emotion tightened Stef’s throat and brought a hot rush of tears to her eyes. “Did Brad seem depressed to you?”

  “I think discouraged would be more accurate. Did you find a note or anything that would suggest he would do something like that?”

  Stef wondered if Sable was a little too interested in her answer. She jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat. “No, nothing. But I can’t help thinking that he may not have been seriously looking for work and was spending a lot of time wallowing in self-pity about the takeover.”

  “He wasn’t the only one, Stef,” Sable said. “But climbing is a high-risk activity. Maybe Brad was too distracted by his problems to be climbing that day.”

  “You really think that’s all it was?”

  The chains around Sable’s neck rattled as she enveloped Stef in a hug clouded with perfume. “I’m sure that’s all it was. Brad had a lot to live for.”

  STEF UNDERESTIMATED Mitch’s wrath when she joined him in the hallway. A white-toothed grin plastered on his handsome face, he hooked his hand beneath her elbow and propelled her to the bank of elevators. But she could feel the intensity inside him waiting to explode.

  The explosion came as he whisked her inside an empty elevator car and hit the button for the lobby. He backed her up against the side wall and planted his hands on either side of her face. Anger ignited his cobalt eyes as his towering strength loomed over her. “What the hell was that stunt you just pulled? Do you want to lose your daughter?”

  Stef flinched, her stomach lurching as the elevator began its rapid descent. “No! I just—”

  “You just what?” he breathed in a dangerous tone that scraped over her emotions like a plane, leaving her raw and bleeding. “What did you say to her?”

  “I told her I was worried that Brad killed himself.”

  Mitch swore. “What did she say?”

  Stef’s shoulders arced into a taut bow and her arms trembled at her sides as she recounted the conversation.

  She could see Mitch thinking, his eyes flashing, his head nodding as he absorbed and processed every word. “Okay, this could be salvageable. I’d be a lot happier if you hadn’t mentioned you were questioning Brad’s death. If Sable’s involved, it could make her suspicious of our visit today. But from what you told me, she may think she convinced you that Brad’s fall was accidental.”

  Tears of helplessness overwhelmed Stef. “I’m sorry! I thought Brad might have been hiding his feelings from me and that he may have confided in Sable. It’s driving me crazy wondering whether he was involved in this and if he took his own life. I loved him. He was my husband.”

  “I know.” To her surprise, Mitch lowered his forehead until it touched hers like a hot brand. His voice broke, the sound fracturing her heart. She felt the drive in him pulse from his body to hers. Her bones sagged as she felt his own fight to maintain control, to be in charge. “I know this is driving you crazy. But, Stef, let me make the decisions here.” Agony ravaged his voice as the elevator continued to drop downward. “You don’t want to know what it feels like to have a child’s death on your conscience.”

  Chapter Five

  She shoved her palms against his chest as if demanding he release her. He could feel her hate, her anger directed at him for saying those terrible, callous words. “How could you say such a horrible thing to me?’

  “Because it’s the truth, and I want you to remember that before you decide to do anything else on your own,” he said bluntly, dropping his arms and stepping back as the elevator touched down in the lobby with a faint jerking motion. In the split second before the elevator doors slid open he was sucked into the maelstrom of emotions swirling in Stef’s beautiful face. Fear immobilized him. Tangible, my-emotions-are-spinning-away-from-me fear that had no place in an investigation. He couldn’t afford to lose his detachment on this case.

  Couldn’t afford to even let himself think about how it might feel to have a woman like Stef Shelton in his life. The kind of woman who could tell a child a story at the drop of a hat, who sewed Halloween costumes and who stood by the man she’d loved and married. And who looked incredibly sexy in short skirts and black lace-up leather boots. He couldn’t afford to let himself wonder what it might be like to comfort her.

  He didn’t want another child’s death on his conscience.

  Stef stormed past him out of the elevator, leaving him feeling lost and alone with the lingering scent of her hair. He caught up with her in the lobby, careful not to touch her as they exited onto the street. He hailed a taxi, rattling off an address to the driver. A chopper was standing by to take them back to Logantown. Stef had agreed to let him search through her husband’s belongings, which she’d stored away for Keely.

  She caught him looking at her and jabbed an elbow into his ribs. “I won’t do it again. I promise,” she said.

  Mitch grunted and ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t slept much in the past week. “I know you won’t. You’re a smart lady.”

  He saw her swallow hard and the heart painted on her fingernail disappear into her clenched fist. He tore his gaze away from her fragile, hunched form, to look at the sea of cabs hemming them in on the crowded avenue.

  “Mitch?”

  He risked glancing back at her. Her eyes were huge and reflected something he didn’t want to see—a combination of pity, compassion and fear. As if he were not quite human. Damn. “Yeah?”

  “Do you have something like that on your conscience?”

  Mitch felt something inside him tilt off center as a rush of regret hit him like a locomotive at full throttle. He’d never told anyone how he felt about Carmen Lopez’s death. As far as the department was concerned, he’d done a good job on the case. He’d figured out who’d taken her and the family had recovered a body. Case closed. The chances of recovering a kidnap victim alive were slim. But Mitch always wanted more. Against all odds, he often succeeded.

  He debated telling her the truth, wondering if, as the women he dated, she’d retreat as soon as he gave her a straight answer. He sighed. He wanted her to retreat, grant him distance, didn’t he? “I’ve been a cop for a long time. There are a lot of cases I wish could have ended differently.”

  Moisture shone in her eyes. She lightly stroked his arm. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d never met you, but I do trust you. I don’t know why you became a cop but I’m glad you’re here…because I’m so scared.”

  The wavering in her voice nearly undid him. Mitch wanted to thread his fingers through her silky hair and pull her head to rest against him. He flexed his fingers, his mind battling his emotions with stay detached orders.

  His cell phone rang. Mitch eased his arm from beneath her stirring touch and flicked the cell phone on, thanking his lucky stars for the interruption. “Halloran, here.”

  Keely’s voice, tiny and demanding, came over the line. “I want my mommy.”

  Mitch felt a tight smile work his lips. Like mother, like daughter. They both despised him. “Sure thing, Keely. She’s right h
ere.”

  He handed Stef the phone. “It’s for you.”

  Stef shot him a worried glance and snatched the phone from his hand. “Kee, is that you, baby?”

  Mitch tried to turn deaf ears to Stef’s conversation as she reassured her daughter that they’d be back soon and asked questions about a tea party Keely was having with Juliana. Even when she was frightened to death and was faced with losing the child she’d raised, Stef made the world of being a mommy sound extraordinarily wonderful. “You’re eating pink cakes and jelly beans? Oh, Kee, that’s so unfair! Mommy’s getting very hungry just thinking about pink cakes and jelly beans.” Stef’s voice grew strangled. “I’m glad you think Juliana’s nice, Kee. Have fun! Mommy loves you a whole bunch. Save one of those pink cakes for me and a green jelly bean.” She rolled her eyes at Mitch. “And maybe a black jelly bean for Mitch.”

  She turned her shoulder to him and dropped her voice. “I know the black ones are yucky, but we don’t have to tell him that.”

  Mitch smothered a grin. He happened to like black jelly beans. Stef disconnected the call and handed the phone back to him. “How about that?” she said, her voice still strangely tight. “My daughter’s wearing a real princess dress and enjoying a tea party with pink cakes and jelly beans without me.”

  Mitch didn’t hesitate to pull her into his arms when her shoulders crumpled and she started to cry. She felt so fragile he was worried he’d crush her if he held her too tightly. He smoothed a trembling hand through her silky dark hair and promised himself he’d do anything, absolutely anything, to bring her back her real daughter.

  He didn’t think he could bear it if he didn’t.

  SABLE TAPPED her pen on her desk, her thoughts dwelling on Brad Shelton’s death. Seeing his widow today had been a shock. When Stephanie had asked her how Brad had seemed before his death, Sable had been afraid that she might know something. Might suspect that her meetings with Brad had been something other than helping him find new employment.