Confiscated Conception

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Confiscated Conception Page 10

by Delores Fossen


  The guard cast uneasy glances at both men before he went back to his original position and shut the door between them. With that distraction out of the way, Clarence returned his attention to the letter.

  So, Lieutenant Dillard had made the connection to Dr. Sheridan. It was a tough break.

  Especially for the doctor.

  Randall Sheridan had been prompt about repaying his debts, but he wasn't indispensable. Quite the contrary. He was a loose end in desperate need of elimination. Measures should have been taken days ago to do away with him. Soon, Clarence would personally find out why they hadn't been.

  Clarence reached over and plucked the pen from his attorney's hand. Best to make this direct. And cryptic. After shredding all those incriminating documents, he certainly didn't want to give the prosecution anything they could use against him.

  He jotted down a couple of key phrases at the bottom of the so-called report. Instructions that Gerald would have no trouble interpreting. By noon, the doctor would be dead, and Lieutenant Dillard would be receiving a rather nasty ultimatum.

  Clarence refolded the single sheet of paper, inserted it into the envelope and sealed it. "It's best that you're not involved in this," he told Brewer, when his attorney cast him a questioning glance. Clarence handed him the envelope. "You'll take that to Gerald Anderson immediately. He'll know what to do with it."

  Brewer nodded. "There was one other thing—"

  He paused, his mouth thinning and his Adam's apple bobbing. Clarence knew the man well enough to know that something was bothering him.

  "I spoke with the DA this morning, and he mentioned that you'd asked to have a private conference with him."

  If Clarence had had another pen, he would have crushed it into a thousand pieces. Apparently, confidentiality meant nothing to the district attorney. It was a serious error in judgment on both his part and the D.A.'s.

  "I wanted to discuss this latest trial delay," Clarence lied. He calmly handed Brewer the ink-soiled handkerchief. "I believe the expression that applies here is fish or cut bait. In other words, I'm entitled to a speedy trial and I want that trial to progress with or without Rachel Dillard and her so-called testimony."

  The attorney shrugged. "We've been granted four delays during the past year. This is the first one for the prosecution. The DA will toss a request like that in your face."

  "Perhaps. But it does no harm to ask." Or to offer. And by God, he had plenty to offer. But that was something he'd keep between the district attorney and himself.

  Maybe it wasn't too late to save himself. Of course, that would mean throwing his partner—along with a few other insignificant employees—to the dogs.

  No matter.

  There were certain things that just couldn't be helped. Right now, he had to focus all his attention on the Dillards.

  * * *

  JARED STEPPED INTO the steamy shower and let the hot water pound against him. It didn't help ease the throbbing pain in his head and neck.

  Nor did it ease anything else that was throbbing.

  What it did do, however, was give him a little time to think. It didn't take him long to reach the conclusion that his judgment was sorely lacking in a couple of critical areas.

  He was batting a thousand today in the stupidity department. First, he'd ignored all kinds of primitive warnings—warnings that had saved his butt on too many occasions to count. Yet, he'd pushed them aside this time, and it had gotten Rachel hurt at Livingston's house.

  Then, as if that incident weren't enough to throw things into turmoil, he hadn't kept the latest comforting session at the cuddle-and-kiss level. Oh, no. Not him. He'd made love to her under the guise of helping her overcome her ordeal.

  Yeah, right.

  That'd been part of it, of course. A major part. However, somewhere around the time he'd gotten her on that bed and stripped off her clothes, the thought of helping her overcome her ordeal had gotten significantly overshadowed by the thought of some great oral sex.

  He hoped that had relaxed her—even if it had done the exact opposite for him. Being with Rachel had caused a frenzy in his nether regions. So far, the shower wasn't helping. Nor would it. A shower couldn't cure that kind of discomfort.

  Jared heard the bathroom door open, but before he could even turn off the water, the vinyl curtain slid back. Rachel stood there, the phone in her hand. She didn't avert her attention from his totally naked body. In fact, she slid her gaze down the length of him. It was a challenge. A sexual gauntlet.

  That would have to wait.

  She handed him the phone. "It's Tanner."

  "Thanks." But he was talking to the air, because Rachel had already turned and walked away.

  Even though he obviously had some unfinished business with Rachel, he welcomed the call. He hoped it was the news he had been waiting for. News that would ultimately lead to a showdown. Him against whoever the hell had the baby. His only regret was that Rachel would have to be there to witness it. He didn't want her in any more danger, but he couldn't see a way around it.

  "You have something for me?" Jared asked. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the tub.

  "Yeah. I tried to call about fifteen minutes ago, but your line was busy."

  "Busy…" He'd been in the shower for the past fifteen minutes. Jared shrugged it off. Rachel had probably had the cell phone tied up with the computer modem.

  "I managed to get an address for Dr. Randall Sheridan," Tanner explained. "That's the good news, but the bad news is he's not there. I sent one of my people through the house. Just a cursory look. No signs of a baby or anything else."

  Jared hadn't expected a smoking gun. However, he had expected to speak to the man, and soon. "What about his office?"

  "Offices. He has two of them. We came up empty there, too. Sheridan has a private practice, but he mainly works at a downtown clinic that caters to the poor and uninsured. He didn't show up for work this morning, even though he was scheduled to come in nearly an hour ago. The staff is worried. They say it's not like him to miss work without calling."

  "Hell." Had Esterman's people already gotten to the doctor—to silence him?

  Tanner must have come to the same conclusion. "I've put every available man on this. If the doc is alive and in the area, we'll find him. And as soon as we locate him, I'll see what I can do about setting up a safe meeting. No repeats of what happened at Livingston's."

  That was the critical part. He couldn't put Rachel through that again. "I really owe you for this."

  "You bet you do. Don't worry, that pound of flesh won't hurt too much when I collect." Tanner paused. "There's more. I'll start with the simple stuff and work my way up. Dr. Sheridan is a parolee. A fairly recent one. He was in jail because of a DWI that resulted in some pretty serious injuries. He was supposed to serve three to five years, but he got out after fourteen months. Guess who helped him to secure an early release?"

  "Esterman."

  "You got it."

  It wasn't much of a surprise, and it went a long way toward convincing Jared that Dr. Sheridan was the man they were looking for. Jared hoped the doctor was still alive, so he could help them.

  "Maybe we should carry this parole thread a little further," Jared suggested. "I'll have Rachel do a computer search for someone that Esterman could have hired to take care of the child."

  "You mean like a nurse?" Tanner asked.

  "Yeah. Or maybe a nanny or a day-care worker. If Esterman got the doctor from prison, maybe he did the same thing with the caregiver."

  "Then, that leads us back to Warden Livingston. You think he's Esterman's partner in all of this?"

  "Could be. But that doesn't rule out Sergeant Meredith or the attorney, Lyle Brewer." Jared cradled the phone against his shoulder and dried his face with a towel. "Maybe all three are Esterman's silent partners."

  "Did you get a feel for that when you spoke to Livingston at his house?"

  "No. We didn't actually speak. When he walked in
to the closet to change, I put him in a chokehold, wrestled him to the floor and tied him up. I don't even think he got a good look at me."

  Not that it mattered. While Jared was doing all of that, Meredith was assaulting Rachel in the other room. He should have just clubbed Livingston and gotten to her immediately. It would have saved her from going through that ordeal.

  "I guess it's time to go another rung up that information ladder." Tanner blew out an audible breath. "I had the DNA tests walked through for you, and the lab just called me with the results."

  That drew Jared right out of his thoughts about Livingston. With everything else going on, he'd almost forgotten about the DNA results. Yet, those results were critical for Rachel's and his future.

  "Are you still there?" Tanner asked.

  "Yeah." Jared cleared his throat and tried to brace himself. "Tell me what you have."

  "What I have is a match for the kid, Jared. Sorry to just toss it out like this, but he's yours. Yours and Rachel's."

  Chapter Twelve

  Jared hadn't anticipated that the news would feel a whole lot like a punch to the gut.

  But it did.

  It felt like that and more.

  The photograph flashed in his mind. The tiny innocent baby. His baby. A baby that was in the worst kind of danger.

  A sickening feeling hit him so hard that Jared had to lean against the sink. It wasn't every day that a man learned he was the father of a child he'd never even seen. A child that he could easily lose.

  "Are you okay?" he heard Tanner ask.

  "Not really." He let go of the sink and leaned against the door. He didn't want Rachel to walk in and see him like this. He had to get control of himself. "Just how accurate is that test?"

  "It's like that soap commercial—it's ninety-nine point nine percent."

  Yeah. That's what Jared figured. Tanner wouldn't have told him the news, otherwise. "I have to go. Rachel needs to know this."

  "Sure. I understand. I'll get back to you as soon as we locate the doctor."

  Suddenly, that search took on an even greater urgency. And so did the tight fist that had hold of his heart. Hell, he couldn't protect Rachel or his child. Yet, he had to. Somehow, he had to keep them safe.

  Jared dressed quickly. He certainly didn't want to deliver the bombshell to Rachel while he wore nothing but a damp towel. He'd barely gotten his jeans zipped, however, before she tapped on the door.

  "What'd Tanner want?" she asked.

  He told her the part about Dr. Sheridan while he put on his shirt. But there was no way he wanted that door between them when he told her about the baby.

  Wishing for a double shot of whiskey, Jared took a deep breath instead and opened the door. Rachel was right there. Waiting. And she immediately studied his face.

  "Something's wrong," she concluded.

  "Sit down." He took her by the arm and led her to the bed.

  She shook her head. "If it's bad news about the baby, then sitting won't help. Just tell me what Tanner found out."

  "It's not bad." Well, not in the strictest sense of the word it wasn't. It just made everything a lot more personal. And more urgent. "Tanner got the DNA results."

  "Already?" She stared at him for several moments, obviously looking for clues as to what he knew. "I think I'd like to sit down now."

  He nodded. Jared felt the same way. He sank onto the bed beside her, eyes fixed on the floor and tried to grasp the enormity of what they'd just learned.

  He couldn't.

  Best to say it fast because there was no easy lead-in for news like this. "The child is ours, Rachel. The tests are almost one-hundred percent accurate. We have a son."

  * * *

  A SON.

  Rachel slowly let that sink in. A baby she'd never carried inside her. Never held in her arms. Never even seen. And yet, he was already there in her heart.

  Tears threatened, and she hurried to the chair where Jared had left his jacket to pull the photograph from the envelope. Despite her watery eyes, the image suddenly seemed so much clearer.

  And more painful.

  She had a child, and Esterman's people might hurt him before they could find him.

  "I'd given up hope of ever having a baby," she admitted. She ran her fingers over the picture. "Especially when you refused to let me use the embryos after we separated."

  "Yes."

  That was it. The sum total of Jared's response. But Rachel didn't hold it against him. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond, either. Most couples had nine months to build up to a moment like this. Nine months of hoping, planning and dreaming.

  Their dream was one big nightmare.

  "We have to find him," Rachel mumbled. She stood and went to the desk. There was nothing to arrange other than two pens and some paper. She settled for that. "We have to get him away from Esterman. We have to bring him…"

  She almost said home before she realized she had no home. Not anymore. In a sense, Esterman had taken that from her, as well.

  "Let's walk through this," Rachel insisted, trying not to panic. But she could feel the panic so close to the surface. "I need to know what we're going to do. I mean, I know we have to find our child. Then, the next step is, we'll go to the cops and explain why we've been on the run. You'll get to keep your badge, and I'll testify against Esterman." She turned around and faced Jared. "And then what?"

  He shrugged. "Then, we find Esterman's partner and put him behind bars, as well."

  Yes. But what Jared didn't say was that that might not happen. They might never find this other person. And that meant she'd never be safe.

  Nor would their son.

  So, they were back to square one, a place Rachel was very tired of being. With Esterman's partner on the loose, she and the baby would likely have to go into the Witness Protection Program. A new life and a new identity. But that left her with one huge question—

  What about Jared?

  "Just take it one step at a time," Rachel heard him say. "That's all we can do."

  Sound advice. But it was also impossible to embrace. She might be a new mother, but her instincts were screaming for her to protect her child.

  "Why don't you go back online and search for information on Dr. Sullivan?" Jared suggested. "You might find something that Tanner missed. Also, I think it's a good idea for you to look for recent parolees that Esterman could be using as a nanny."

  She knew he was trying to distract her, to get her mind on something productive. And he was right. Worrying would accomplish nothing. Too bad it felt impossible to do what was sensible.

  She plowed her hands through her hair and groaned. "He could be right under our noses, Jared, and we wouldn't even know it."

  "I know, but I'll do whatever it takes to find him," he promised.

  She believed him, but what worried her was that that might not be enough. Whatever they did might not be enough, and that was too painful to accept.

  "We can't give up," Jared added, as if reading her mind. "If we do, Esterman wins."

  Yes, and their son would lose. It was the right thing to say, to get her moving in a more constructive direction. She wouldn't let Esterman win this one. Not when her child's life was at stake.

  Rachel took one last look at the photograph, put it back in the envelope and got to work.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Four names," Rachel murmured.

  Sitting next to her, Jared read through the information on the computer screen. All four people were recent parolees. All were released with Clarence Esterman's assurance to the parole board that the four would have gainful employment through his company. Any one of the four could be the caregiver for the baby.

  Or none of them.

  In other words, nothing definitive yet. Maybe Dr. Sheridan could help them in that area. If he was still alive, that is. And if Tanner's people could actually find the man. It'd been nearly three hours since Jared had spoken to Tanner, so obviously they were having trouble locating Sherid
an.

  Not a good sign.

  "That's it—just four names?" he asked. "I was worried there might be more."

  "There might be. I went for the obvious so I could narrow down the search. They're all female, none over the age of seventy. None of them have any serious health problems. Two of them are nurses, one was a licensed child-care provider, and the other has some day-care experience. I think these are our best bets."

  "Can you go ahead and get current addresses on all of them?"

  Rachel nodded. "I already have them for the first three, but there isn't anything recent for this one." She tapped the last name on the list: Agnes McCullough. "I've checked property listings, employment records, Internet listings, you name it. She's just not there." Rachel paused. "But then, if Esterman's managed to get to Dr. Sheridan, maybe he's also gotten to anyone else who could incriminate him."

  True. But Jared tried not to dwell on that depressing thought.

  "Esterman isn't perfect," he reminded Rachel. While he was at it, it was a good reminder to himself, as well. "You were able to uncover his dirty dealings, proving not only that he's vulnerable but that he's capable of making mistakes."

  And maybe Clarence Esterman would make yet one more mistake that would put him away for good and help them find their child.

  Rachel groaned softly and rubbed the back of her neck. It wasn't an ordinary moan, either. It was laced with fatigue and frustration. Of course, she had been staring at that screen for hours while they waited for Tanner's call. Added to that, she'd been working too hard and eating too little. The takeout Chinese food that he'd picked up from across the street was still sitting there on the desk. Unopened.

  Jared moved her hand away and took over the neck massage. "You're worrying and thinking too much. Believe me, it doesn't help."

  "I know, but I can't seem to make it stop. All these crazy thoughts keep going through my head. I swear, I'll need a padded cell before this is over."

  Jared knew the feeling and decided they both could use a little levity. He went for the obvious. "Well, I would distract you with some carnal suggestions, but I figure Tanner will call any minute. I hate getting interrupted while in the throes of passion, don't you?"

 

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