Confiscated Conception

by Delores Fossen

  Jared took the phone from his pocket and put it to his ear. "Tanner," he said several seconds later.

  So she didn't get her wish, after all, but that didn't mean Merkens hadn't gotten in touch with Tanner. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell from Jared's monosyllabic responses if it was good or bad news.

  Maybe Merkens had phoned to reschedule the meeting, but she prayed not. Rachel wanted to talk with him now, to get the information and then move on to the next step. Time suddenly felt like their enemy. The longer it took them to find the baby, the longer it would be before she could take the stand. Every minute was a gamble that the cops or Esterman's people would find them first.

  "Tanner said he just got a call from Lyle Brewer, Esterman's attorney." Jared slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Brewer said it was important that he speak to us right away."

  Lyle Brewer. Just great. First, the cops had contacted Tanner to try to get to them, and now Brewer. Maybe it wasn't a good idea for them to rely on a man who suddenly seemed too obvious a connection to them. Of course, the alternative wasn't much better. It was hard to set up security for a meeting while they were in hiding.

  "Brewer says he has something important to tell us," Jared continued. "He won't say what it is until he sees us face-to-face."

  Rachel's first instinct was to say no. An emphatic no. She didn't want anything to do with the man who might very well be Esterman's so-called silent partner. But the fact that Jared hadn't already vetoed the meeting meant he was at least considering it.

  "You don't think Brewer would bring the baby to us, do you?" she asked. And hoped. But that would be a stupid move on his part. She knew for a fact that Esterman wasn't stupid, and doubted his attorney was, either.

  "Brewer might be able to tell us more than we'll get from Merkens. If we even get anything from Merkens. I think we need all the help we can get."

  Absolutely, but that information could cost them their lives. After all, Brewer owned the house where Sasha Young lived, and perhaps died.

  Jared must have seen the movement at the same moment Rachel did, because his head snapped up and his gaze raced to the cluster of playground equipment near the passenger side of the car.

  The man stepped around the slide and looked in their direction. He was tall. Dark hair. Wearing a tan raincoat. And he held a perky yellow umbrella over his head. Obviously, he wasn't that concerned with someone seeing him. Or maybe he simply wasn't aware of the danger.

  "Stay put," Jared whispered to her as he reached for the door handle.

  Staying put was certainly the safer option, but not necessarily the best one. Rachel grabbed his arm to stop him. "You're a cop through and through, Jared. I'm not. With everything that's happened, maybe Aaron Merkens will trust me more than he would you."

  He didn't hesitate. Jared simply shook his head. "There's no reason for both of us to play sitting duck. Tonight, you do the sitting and I'll be the duck."

  And with that decree, he must have considered the debate a done deal because he stepped out of the car and motioned for Merkens to come closer. Even that simple gesture had cop written all over it.

  God, he was hardheaded.

  Rachel held her breath and watched the encounter unfold in front of her. The two men paused as if sizing each other up, and Merkens finally started toward Jared. His long stride quickly ate up the distance between them.

  Before he even reached Jared, Merkens aimed his index finger at her. "Who the hell is that? This was supposed to be a private meeting. You didn't say anything about bringing someone else along."

  "Well, you didn't say anything about carrying a prissy umbrella that can be seen for miles. Trust me, that isn't a good thing. Get rid of it."

  Since it seemed as if this could turn ugly, Rachel quickly stepped out of the car. Jared motioned for her to get back in, but she ignored him and extended her hand to Merkens. "Sorry to crash the meeting, but I didn't think one less duck would matter. I'm concerned about Sasha. That's why we're all here, right?"

  "I guess," Merkens snarled, after apparently giving it some thought. He didn't shake her hand. Instead, he closed the umbrella and turned his attention back to Jared. "You have the money?"

  "Yeah," Jared assured him. "But this is a buy now, pay later kind of deal. You give me the information about Sasha Young, and you'll get paid."

  Merkens nodded, eventually, but the arrangement obviously didn't please him. He fidgeted with the plastic handle of the umbrella, and for the first time since he'd arrived, his gaze darted all around. Perhaps it was beginning to sink in that he might be in danger.

  "I don't know how much more I can tell you," Merkens whispered. "Like I said, she disappeared about a week ago, and I haven't seen her since. I went by her house just this morning, but there's no sign of her. Even her clothes are gone."

  He didn't know she'd been murdered. She hoped Jared wouldn't be the one to tell him. The mood among them certainly wasn't one of trust and cooperation. Hearing of Sasha's death probably wouldn't help that.

  Jared kept his right hand near his shoulder holster and weapon. "You told me on the phone that she's pregnant. Is it your baby?"

  "No. Of course not." Merkens looked at him as if he'd sprouted a third eye. "It's not like that between us. She's like a sister to me. And as far as the baby, I don't know whose it is. Sasha's a surrogate for some couple who couldn't have kids. They're paying her."

  "Yeah. I know that's what you said, but I wanted to make sure it's the truth." Jared's hand snaked out, and he snagged Merkens by the coat and yanked him closer. The man protested rather loudly, but that didn't stop Jared from frisking him. "Is it the truth, Aaron? Because I'd really hate to think that you're lying to me."

  "According to Sasha it's true. Now, get your freakin' hands off me." He jerked away, stepped back and indignantly readjusted his coat. "I'm not carrying a gun, and I've told you all I know—so give me my money."

  Keeping eye-contact with Merkens, Jared extracted a roll of bills from his jacket pocket. But he didn't hand it over. He just continued with that intimidating stare. "First, I want you to think real hard, because that's what I'm shelling out bucks for you to do. Has Sasha ever mentioned who asked her to be a surrogate?"

  He immediately shook his head. "I can't help you there. That's one thing she always stays away from. The subject of the baby is a big no-no."

  "Any theories about why she doesn't want to talk about it?" Rachel asked.

  "No. And I don't ask. I figure, it's none of my business. Like a lot of other things." Merkens waggled his finger at the money. "I'll take that now."

  But Jared didn't move. "You still have that phone number I gave you when we talked earlier? The one for a guy named Tanner?"

  Merkens nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"

  "If you remember anything about who hired Sasha to be a surrogate, then call Tanner and arrange for another meeting." He slapped the money into Merkens's palm. "I'll make it worth your time."

  Merkens counted the money before returning his gaze to Jared. "I'll see what I can find out."

  "Do that, but be smart about it. No more yellow umbrellas, metaphorical or otherwise. There might be people who'd object to you digging into this."

  Merkens's eyes widened, then narrowed. He gave another nod before he turned and walked away.

  "I don't think he's gotten the word yet that Sasha's dead, but he definitely knows more than he's saying," Jared concluded.

  "How do you know that?"

  "Easy. He didn't ask for an explanation when I mentioned that 'people who'd object' part. So he must at least suspect that there's more to this than me just asking a couple of questions about his friend."

  She shook her head. "But why would Merkens withhold information? And why would he still want to meet with us if he suspected Esterman was after him?"

  "He didn't keep this meeting for our benefit. He did it strictly for the money." Jared started back toward the car, and she followed him. "My guess is, he needs a fix, and so
on. He'll sell his soul if necessary."

  She wiped the rain off her face and slung it aside. "So this was a waste of time?"

  "Maybe. Maybe not. We've planted the seeds. When he's desperate for more money, Merkens might just recall the very piece of information that we need to know."

  Rachel was about to remind him that they might not be able to wait long enough for Merkens to come around, but a strange swishing sound stopped her. She turned her ear toward it, to try to figure out what it was, but Jared apparently already knew.

  "Someone's shooting," he warned.

  There was no time for Rachel to brace herself. No time to think.

  Jared hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her to the ground. Panic gripped Rachel much faster than she could fight it off. As her heart pounded and her breath raced, the images immediately flooded her head. Her parents on the floor of their bedroom. The intruder's gun.

  The smell of death.

  Those images that had tormented her since she was seven years old and had witnessed their brutal murder. The memories roared through her with a vengeance.

  "Try to hold it together," Jared murmured. "I'll get you out of here. I promise."

  Rachel clung to the sound of his voice, clung to each comforting word. It didn't stop her physical reaction to the old demons, but she forced herself not to give in to the panic. She wouldn't let the fear cause them to get killed. Somehow, she'd get beyond this.

  "The shots are coming from those trees," Jared said. He drew his own weapon. "And whoever's shooting, they're not aiming at us."

  No. Not at the moment, anyway.

  Rachel lifted her head a fraction and glanced at the thick oaks on the other side of the road. They were at least five hundred yards away and did a thorough job of concealing the shooter.

  More shots followed. A few of them gashed into metal playground equipment and sent the creaky swing spinning. They came close. Too close. And the thought of them coming any closer sent Rachel's heart racing out of control.

  She tried not to think of the baby in the photo. But her mind kept going back to that image. Unfortunately, it was spliced with the other memories racing through her head. Violent memories of her parents' murder. It was a painful reminder of the danger the child was in. Her heart ached at the thought of never learning the truth, of never seeing the baby that might be hers.

  Jared levered himself up slightly and aimed his weapon. What he didn't do was fire. Thank God. She wasn't sure she could handle that with him so close to her. Instead, he paused. Waiting. Listening. Rachel listened as well, and the silence slid in around them.

  Nothing.

  For several excruciating moments.

  Then, Rachel heard the faint sound of someone gunning a car engine. Followed by not-so-muffled gunfire.

  Jared cursed. "We have company."

  "Where?" Rachel looked out at the trees again but couldn't see anything.

  "Two to one, the cops are here. That's why that second set of shots wasn't fired with a silencer."

  Jared didn't finish the explanation. He didn't have to. If the cops were there, then they were very close to being captured.

  "I doubt they want us dead," Jared continued a moment later. "But the bullets might not know that."

  True. They could be killed simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  She leaped up when he did, but Jared grabbed her shoulder and pulled her right back on the ground. "Not yet."

  He peered around the car door and waited for what seemed like endless minutes. By degrees, the sound of the gunfire slowly shifted in another direction. Moving away from them. Jared must have thought so as well, because he finally let her stand up, and he helped her into the car.

  "We're getting out of here," he ordered. "Stay low in the seat so they can't see you."

  Without turning on the headlights, Jared pulled onto the main park road and stomped on the accelerator.

  "Hell," he spat out.

  "What's wrong now?"

  But she immediately saw what had caused Jared's reaction. When they passed a thick shrub, it was there. The body, facedown in a crumpled heap on the ground.

  Rachel didn't need to see his face to know who it was. The tan trench coat. The dark hair. The yellow umbrella by his side.

  It was Aaron Merkens.

  And he was dead.

  Chapter Six

  Hell. Hell. Hell.

  This was definitely a worst-case scenario coming true right before his eyes. The cops facing off against Esterman's hired assassins. This showdown could easily result in Rachel and him being captured.

  Or worse.

  Much, much worse.

  Jared sped through the park, hoping he was moving away from both sets of shooters. He didn't have time to wait out the crossfire, and he damn sure didn't have time to stay behind and clear things up with the cops. He needed to rendezvous with Tanner in exactly a half hour, and that was one appointment he had to keep.

  "They killed him," Rachel muttered under her breath. "They really killed him."

  Jared added another hell to his mental rantings. Rachel had obviously seen the body, and that was something he'd wanted to avoid.

  "Are you all right?" He didn't dare risk looking in her direction, but he did push her lower into the seat. Jared kept his attention on the road to make sure they weren't being followed.

  She made a soft sound that couldn't hide her fear. "I've been better."

  Yeah. A huge understatement. And the night wasn't over yet. He'd let her catch her breath first before he reminded her that this was just round one.

  And they'd lost.

  Merkens was dead. No doubt about that. Jared had seen the body and the blood. He didn't need a crystal ball to know who was responsible.

  Clarence Esterman.

  That meant Merkens had had some sensitive information that Esterman wanted to keep private. So sensitive and private that Esterman had been willing to kill to keep it secret. That also meant Jared had missed his chance to get the info—again. Hell. He should have beaten it out of the umbrella-carrying fool while he had the chance.

  And while he was doling out should-have's and other insults, Jared decided he should have his own head examined for bringing Rachel into this. With her gun phobia, that shooting ordeal was probably a couple of hundred steps beyond terror. An incident like that could easily cause her to have a breakdown.

  "I'll figure out a safe place for you to go as soon as I talk with Tanner," Jared promised. He made his way to an access road and then exited onto the interstate. "I won't make you go through something like this again. I swear, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

  "Excuse me?"

  Her tone caused him to take notice. It wasn't exactly a request for clarification. Even though her voice was trembling, it was snippy. And much too calm.

  Never a good sign when it came to Rachel.

  "Please don't tell me you're thinking about dumping me somewhere so you can try to find the baby all by yourself?" she asked. "You need help. My help. So spare me this Y-chromosome testosterone garbage."

  He'd been right. Calmness in this case meant it'd take some fast talking to get Rachel to see his side. "I need you safe so I can concentrate on doing what has to be done." And to drive his point home, he added, "Do you have any idea how close you came to getting hurt tonight?"

  "Some, yes. I got my first hint when that bullet whizzed past our heads and slammed into the swing just a couple of yards away."

  Obviously she had a grasp on the situation. A smart-ass grasp. Jared had to unclench teeth before he could continue. "Then, you know I can't keep putting you in danger. What if you'd had a panic attack back there, huh?"

  "I didn't—"

  "But you could have."

  "But I didn't!" She slapped her hand against the padded console. "God, I might as well find a wall to bang my head against. It'd be a better use of my time than trying to reason with you."

  The sheer volume
of her voice had him pausing, and it took Jared a moment to figure out why. It was the first time he ever remembered Rachel yelling at him. She wasn't the yelling type.

  At least, she didn't use to be.

  She obviously was now.

  Rachel cursed. Not only was it loud as well, but it was also fairly creative. Had he not been the recipient of that profanity, it would have impressed him.

  "Yes, I have panic attacks," she admitted, her voice still rather loud. "Yes, just the sight of a gun nearly causes me to hyperventilate. And yes, I was scared enough back there that I nearly wet my pants. But there is no way I'm going to sit on my butt and wait for you to rescue this child. Not when I can help. I'm in this as deep as you are, Jared, so learn to live with it."

  With that ultimatum, she brushed him off with one of those icy looks and folded her arms over her chest. Both things, coupled with her stubbornness, riled him.

  And pleased him.

  Maybe Rachel hadn't been quite as close to a panic attack as he'd originally thought. Still, that didn't mean he wanted any more bullets flying in her direction.

  His brow furrowed. "You are so stubborn."

  "Yeah. Like you're not?"

  This was a standoff. Unlike the yelling, it was very familiar ground. He tossed a glare at her. Rachel tossed one back, and he knew she had no intention of changing her mind. So, Jared tried a more logical approach.

  "What is it exactly that you believe you can do to help me find this baby faster?" he asked. He took the exit to San Pedro Avenue where he was supposed to meet Tanner, and waited for her answer. An answer he was sure he could blast right out of the water.

  "Well, for one thing, I can search hospital records on the computer to find out where Sasha had the C-section. When I have a doctor's name, we can question him and try to figure out who paid the bills. That might lead us to the person who helped Esterman put this plan together."

  Jared had to scrutinize that response before he realized no blasting was required. As ideas went, it was a winner. It would take him hours to work his way through cyberspace, but Rachel had great hacker skills. Heck, she'd even helped him out on a few cases. She could probably figure out a way to get the information a lot faster than he could.