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Saving His Son

Page 2

by Rita Herron


  GAVIN WAS STILL contemplating who might have sent the unnerving note, An Eye For An Eye, when the door screeched open.

  “Someone here to see you, McCord.”

  All thoughts of the anonymous note flew from his mind when Lindsey Payne stepped through the door—what was she doing here? He thought she’d disappeared from his life forever.

  Peterson waved her in and left, and Gavin clamped his jaw tight, fighting his gut reaction—lust. Need. Want. For a woman he couldn’t have.

  She moved toward him and his breath hitched in his throat. She wore her silky blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the starkness of her high cheekbones. Dark smudges curved beneath her eyes and a denim jumper hung on her slender frame as if she’d lost weight. Her pale complexion alarmed him. Even so, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d dreamed about her too many nights to even count.

  Lindsey tipped her head, her smile weak. “Gavin.”

  He straightened, instinctively aware something was very, verwrong. Her once vibrant eyes were hollow and empty, sending his protective instincts kicking in. Even when Lindsey had been threatened by her ex, she’d been a fighter. The strange mixture of courage and vulnerability had been one reason he’d been unable to resist her that last night. Now, she looked almost fragile.

  “What’s wrong, Lindsey? Faulkner hasn’t been harassing you, has he?”

  She sank into the hard wooden chair. “No, not exactly.”

  Gavin filled a cup with water and handed her the cup. “Here, drink this and take a deep breath. You look awfully pale.”

  “I’m okay.” Lindsey accepted the glass and drank, her hands shaking.

  He gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. “Why are you here, Lindsey?”

  She bit down on her lower lip, a small nervous laugh escaping her. “Don’t worry, Gavin. This is not a social call. I didn’t come back—”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” His heart squeezed at her cryptic tone. The Lindsey he knew never sounded cynical—not like him.

  She inhaled a fortifying breath and he gestured toward the door. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

  Her brown eyes studied him pensively, and he remembered too late she’d asked him the same question the last time she’d seen him. He’d just testified against a murderer, only the man he’d testified against had threatened retribution to him and everyone Gavin knew. He’d immediately relived his childhood fears. Only this time he wasn’t the kid. He was the man whose loved ones had been threatened. He’d panicked and told her he didn’t want her. Didn’t want a relationship. Marriage. A family. Ever.

  “Your office is fine. I came here…to ask for your help.” Her voice sounded stronger, but her fingers fumbled over the handles of her leather purse as if she were reconsidering the idea.

  He stroked his beard with his chin, faintly aware her hand followed the movement. “What kind of help do you need? Money? Legal advice?”

  “No.” Her eyes darted toward the closed door. “I need your services as a detective.”

  “You came here to report a crime?”

  “Sort of…yes.” Her back stiffened as if she didn’t know where to begin.

  He’d seen the same nervous reaction when she’d confessed about her ex-husband’s illegal activities. “Take your time, and tell me what happened.”

  She nodded, seemingly grateful for his encouragement. “I…I had a baby a few weeks ago.”

  His heart thundered in his chest, his mind automatically ticking away the months.

  The air caught in his lungs.

  “But the doctor told me my baby died. I think he may have lied,” she continued in a shaky voice. “And I want you to help me find him. Or at least find out the truth. To find out if my baby is alive.”

  The air caught in Gavin’s. He leaned against the front of his desk and folded his arms. “Tell me something, Linds.”

  She lifted her heart-shaped face to stare into his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

  “Was the baby Faulkner’s, or…was he mine?”

  Chapter Two

  Lindsey bit down on her bottom lip, her stomach churning. All the way to the precinct she’d stewed over what to tell Gavin. Should she lie? Tell him the baby was her ex’s?

  Gavin had claimed emotions muddied a man’s judgment. Would it be better if he didn’t know the truth?

  “Lindsey?”

  She was a terrible liar. And if he knew the baby was his, maybe he’d search even harder for him.

  He leaned so close his breath brushed her cheek. “Is the baby Faulkner’s or mine?”

  She looked into his eyes, the dark smoldering depths lurking with questions, and she heard the tension in his husky voice. He deserved to know the truth.

  “The baby is yours.”

  His dark gaze pierced her to the core. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded slowly, her voice low. “He was six weeks early.” She glanced down at her hands and knotted them in front of her. “The last time I slept with Jim was the night before I signed the final divorce papers. He came by to try to make amends. I felt guilty over our failed marriage.” Lindsey shrugged, trying to remember all the reasons she’d given in to Jim that night. The next day he’d threatened her, had thought he’d won her loyalty back, but she’d seen through his manipulation and felt ashamed for letting him use her. She had to testify against him.

  “When was that night?”

  “Two months before…before that night with you. Besides, Jim always took extra precautions. He was adamant about that…. He…didn’t want children.”

  Silence descended upon them with a chilling bleakness. Gavin dropped his gaze to the floor, then leaned back, half sitting, half propping himself on the front of his desk. His dark blue shirt stretched tight across his massive shoulders. “Why…Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I tried to. I called and left messages but you never returned my calls.” Anger, swift and hard, pressed against Lindsey’s vocal chords. “I didn’t expect anything from you, Gavin, not money, not support, certainly not marriage. I know we were both upset about Jim finding the safe house and we let things get out of control. Still, I thought you had a right to know. But you avoided me and when I came to the courthouse…”

  “Jesus.” He reached for her, his expression pained, but she shrank away. “I had no idea that’s why you’d come.”

  Lindsey stood and backed away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, her voice brittle, “No, don’t…don’t touch me, Gavin. D’t make excuses.” She let the anger and pain from all those lonely months drive her. “The day I finally cornered you at the courthouse, you wouldn’t even talk to me. I’d even written you a letter, but you said you didn’t want to see me again, that you didn’t want marriage or babies. Ever. So I threw the note in the trash outside the courtroom that day.”

  His gaze jerked back to hers, pinning her with the force of his emotions. Hurt, anger, remorse. He started to speak, but Lindsey cut him off.

  “I didn’t come here to renew our relationship. I know the one night we shared meant nothing to you, and I didn’t intend to trap you into marriage or make you accept responsibility for a baby you didn’t want.”

  A vein pulsed in his forehead, but he didn’t argue.

  “I’m not asking anything from you now except to find out if my son is alive.”

  “Our son,” he said in a deadly calm voice.

  “Yes, our son.” She raised her chin a notch, forcing herself not to think about the pain he might be feeling. “All I want is for you to help me find my son and bring him home. Then we’ll be out of your life. Forever—just like you requested the day I tried to tell you I was pregnant.”

  His shoulders went rigid and for a brief minute, fear knotted her stomach. She’d seen Gavin wrestle her ex-husband the night he’d attacked her. But Gavin had never been anything but gentle toward her. He rolled his shoulder as if it hurt, the overly long strands of his hair br
ushing his collar. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, too. She wondered what kind of case he’d been working on, then felt like kicking herself for caring.

  As if he sensed her fear, he suddenly dropped his gaze and walked around to his desk, sat down in his chair and dropped his head forward into his hands. Lindsey caught herself swaying and sank back in the chair. The sound of the clock ticking droned in the background, amplifying the tension between them.

  He fiddled with a pen and some paper, avoiding her gaze, then finally replied in a low, controlled tone, “All right. Start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened after you left Raleigh.” When his chin lifted, Lindsey saw the pain in his eyes but she also recognized the calm, take-charge cop who’d protected her after her husband’s attack. The man who’d won her heart with his brooding macho manner. The man who’d broken it later. Had she made a mistake by coming to him for help?

  GAVIN’S HEAD throbbed from trying to contain the rage building inside him. But he’d seen the flicker of fear in Lindsey’s eyes and shame had filled him. Her first husband had been a violent man. He had to channel his anger into something productive. Even if he died a slow painful death on the inside.

  He had a baby. A son.

  A little boy who’d died or been kidnapped before Gavin had even known he existed. He’d left Lindsey alone to deal with the pregnancy, the birth of his child, the baby’s death. He’d sent her away to protect her, yet he’d left her vulnerable and unprotected.

  “Tell me everything”

  Lindsey twisted her hands in her lap. “My baby died a few hours after he was born. At least the doctor said he did.”

  “What do you mean, the doctor said the baby died? Why don’t you believe him? Did you see the baby? Did he look healthy?”

  “Yes, I held him, but they whisked him away because there were complications.”

  “With the baby?”

  “With me, with both of us,” she whispered, staring at her hands. “I went into premature labor. I developed eclampsia and the fetus was in distress so they had to perform an emergency C-section.” Her hands stilled, straightened, curled to dig into her palms as she struggled with the memories. Seconds later, she continued in a shaky voice, “I had a boy. But I was drowsy from the anesthesia and couldn’t stay awake. The next thing I remember, I woke up and the nurse told me he…he didn’t make it.” She paused again, then met his gaze, her big brown eyes pleading with him to believe her. “I was so hurt, so stunned I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Then I went into shock.”

  His throat tightened.

  “The doctor gave me a sedative, and I guess it knocked me out, but later that night, I woke up and saw someone in my room. A man…he tried to kill me.”

  His head snapped up. “What?”

  “Someone tried to smother me with a pillow. I thought it was the doctor at first—”

  “You think the doctor tried to kill you?”

  “Yes…no, I don’t know.” Lindsey sighed and shifted in her seat, then tucked an errant strand of hair behind her delicate ear before continuing. “All I remember is that he was wearing surgical scrubs.”

  “Did you recognize him? A voice maybe? His eyes?”

  “I didn’t see his face, only shadows. It was dark and I was groggy from the pain medicine.” Her face lifted, her eyes big and wide. “But the staff claimed no one had been in my room. They insisted I was hallucinating.”

  Which was possible. He’d seen firsthand the bizarre effects drugs had on people. But Lindsey was normally stable, not an irrational female who invented things.

  She fumbled with her purse again, her hands trembling as she removed a paper and handed it to him. “A week after I was released from the hospital I started receiving strange phone calls telling me my baby is still alive. This came in the mail today.”

  He reached for the file, surprised to find an autopsy report. “You hadn’t seen the report before?”

  “No, I asked about the autopsy, but the doctor never showed me the report. He claimed my baby died of heart failure. But the blood type doesn’t match mine or yours.”

  A knot of anxiety tightened Gavin’s stomach as he studied her expression. Her story seemed bizarre—could it be true?

  “I think someone switched my baby with the infant that didn’t make it. And they tried to cover up the switch.”

  “Sounds pretty sinister. Why would someone switch babies?”

  A defeated expression darkened her already dull eyes. “Maybe someone kidnapped my baby or adopted him out. Or maybe someone wanted to hurt me or get back at me…” Her voice broke, a wave of tears gushing out.

  He ran a hand over his beard stubble, fighting the urge to fold her in his arms. When another tear slipped down her cheek, he lost the battle and actually reached forward. She stiffened immediately and he dropped his hand, trying to decide if she hadn’t accepted the truth about the infant’s death or if the odd events could have happened the way she described. If their child could be alive…

  “Did you go to the local police?”

  “Yes, but the sheriff in Maple Hollow is as old as Methuselah. He’s been best friends with Dr. Cross since grade school.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “He assured me nothing strange or illegal ever occurs in Maple Hollow. That Dr. Cross would never lie to a patient.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not imagining the phone calls, Mac. Or the fact that someone sent me this report.”

  Lindsey had slipped and used the nickname she’d whispered that night in bed, but she didn’t even realize it. He stared at his dirty boots. He’d break her heart if he investigated and discovered the doctor had told the truth. But they were talking about his son here. How could he not believe her? Not investigate?

  He shifted, agitated. “Maple Hollow isn’t in my jurisdiction, Linds. If the sheriff doesn’t suspect any wrong-doing, he won’t welcome a stranger poking around. Besides, missing persons are usually referred to the FBI.”

  She stood so abruptly her chair teetered backwards and hit the wall with a loud thump. “Then you won’t help me?”

  Panic rolled through him at the wild, stricken look in her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re not going to, are you? You think I’m some irrational female. That I’m crazy, that I’m making this up.”

  “I never said that either.” He clenched his jaw, lowering his voice to a soothing pitch. “I’ve never known you to be irrational.” And he hadn’t. The woman was made of steel—she taught handicapped kids, for God’s sake. And she’d stood up to her ex-husband in court and in front of the man’s family. She had to be tough. But he’d be crazy to get tangled up with her again. Hell, he’d never gotten over her the first time.

  “Will you help me?”

  The desperation in her voice tore at his soul. “Of course, I’ll help you. You’re talking about our child.” In his mind he pictured her round with his baby. The pain was so intense his knees almost buckled. “Did Faulkner know you were pregnant?”

  Lindsey paused, the strain of the day obviously wearing on her. “No.”

  “You’re sure? Have you had any contact with his family at a

  Lindsey sighed. “His mother phoned me a few times before the trial and asked me not to go through with the charges. Then she called once or twice afterward to try and persuade me to recant my testimony. But after I moved from Raleigh, I never heard from them.”

  “So, they didn’t know about the baby?”

  “I don’t think so. I moved the day after I saw you at the courthouse.” She toyed with a fingernail. “Besides, I never told anyone the name of the baby’s father.”

  Including him. Their gazes met, held. He gritted his jaw, the pain once again almost unbearable. Lindsey threaded her fingers together in her lap, looking tired and drawn and too damned thin.

  “What about the staff, you said they didn’t see anyone go in your room?”

  �
�That’s right. Only, I went back the week after I was released from the hospital to talk to Janet, the nurse who helped with my delivery, but she’d taken a leave of absence.”

  His voice softened. “Even nurses go on vacation, Linds.”

  Her face jerked toward him and he saw fear in her eyes, the same fear he’d seen the night he’d crossed the line from duty to pleasure. The night they’d created a son.

  “Maybe, but it seemed odd that no one in town knew where Janet went on vacation. Maple Hollow’s so small everyone usually knows everyone else’s business.”

  He mulled over that piece of information, trying to piece together a reason someone might kidnap their baby and make her think the child had died, but guilt slammed into him. If he’d been there to take care of her, maybe he could have prevented her premature labor, or if he’d been at the hospital, he could have seen his son himself, protected him…

  “What about the other members of the staff?”

  “A terrible explosion occurred that night at a local factory. Except for Dr. Cross and the nurse, all the emergency workers were called to help.” She paused.

  “Something else odd, happened, too. I heard a girl crying in one of the other rooms at the clinic.”

  “Another patient maybe?”

  She threw up her hands in frustration and paced to the window. “I thought so, but the doctor claimed I was the only patient that night, that I imagined the other woman.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure you heard someone else?”

  “I’m positive. You know the kids I taught said I had eyes and ears in the back of my head.”

  He smiled at the memory. A natural with children, Lindsey would have been a wonderful mother. “Could the woman have been someone from the explosion?”

  “No, they transferred all the injuries to the county hospital. The clinic isn’t equipped for major medical emergencies.”

  Gavin stood, walked to the window beside her and stared out at the busy street. Thick traffic crawled by, horns honked intermittenthe wail of a siren burst into the strained silence. Sun splashed off the concrete, flickering from a beautiful blue sky. But Gavin had never felt more dismal in his life.

 

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