Saving His Son

by Rita Herron

  LINDSEY PLUNGED through the brush, shoving tree branches out of her way, trying not to stumble over the vines and battered tree roots as she hastily tried to keep up with Gavin. For an injured man, he possessed amazing strength. She prayed they weren’t too late.

  Her mouth was dry, her limbs ached, her fingers felt raw from swiping at the rough tree bark. But her baby was up there somewhere and she’d be damned if she’d let her ex-husband cart him off to some foreign country and raise him as his child. She pushed harder, forcing herself to breathe out of her mouth to keep up the pace. Finally, Gavin paused. He’d heard something. She listened and heard it, too. The soft sound of someone singing. Humming a lullaby. Whoever was singing had her baby.

  Gavin steered her behind a cluster of pine trees. She looked through the clearing and spotted a small log cabin, nestled in the woods like a cottage out of an episode of Little House on the Prairie. A white van was parked beneath a crudely built carport, a black Mercedes hidden behind the frame of the house.

  On the wooden porch Lindsey spotted an elderly woman wearing an old-fashioned housedress. She sat hunched over in a straight chair rocking a tiny wooden cradle back and forth, humming in a sweet voice. Lindsey’s lungs tightened.

  Her baby was in the cradle.

  But who was the woman?

  She rose to run to her son but Gavin yanked at her hand. “No, Linds, wait. Backup should be here soon.”

  The baby began to wail, drowning out his words. Her son’s cries reminded her of all the nights she’d heard him in her sleep. All the days and nights she’d already missed being with him.

  The old woman picked him up, cradled him in her arms, swaying back and forth and humming, softly. “Rock-a-bye-baby, in the treetop…”

  Lindsey’s arms ached. Cory was her baby, she should be holding him, giving him comfort. Not a stranger.

  Her ex-husband staggered from the edge of the woods and walked toward the porch, his arms outstretched. “Nora, let me have him now.”

  Nora. The old woman had been Jim’s nanny when he was little. Lindsey couldn’t stand the thought of her ex-husband touching her son. She bolted forward, ignoring Gavin’s pleas to wait, and ran for the porch.

  But another man, Jim Faulkner’s father, stepped from the shadows of the woods and grabbed her. He thrust a gun in her face just as her ex-husband started to lift her baby from the old woman’s arms.

  “No, give me my baby!” Lindsey cried. “You got what you wanted, so pl-please give me my son.”

  GAVIN’S PULSE raced as he forced himself to think, not to allow his own explosive emotions to cloud his actions. Simon had followed the Faulkners; he’d be here somewhere. A wrong move might push Faulkner’s panic button and he’d end up getting Lindsey or his son hurt. He slowly emerged from his hiding place.

  “It’s over Faulkner, let her go,” he said calmly

  The older Faulkner, an aged version of his son with gray hair and small, dark bifocals, glared at him with controlled rage. “It’s not over until my son is out of here.”

  Lindsey strained against the man’s arms but he tightened his hold around her neck until she stilled. Gavin clenched his hand by his side. “Okay, we did everything you asked. Now, why don’t you hand the baby to Lindsey and take off.”

  “It’s not as simple as that anymore.” The screen door opened and the elderly Faulkner’s wife slid through the door. Diamonds glittered off her earlobes and hands in the bright sunlight, her expression hard and cold.

  Jim Faulkner gently lifted the infant in his arms. Lindsey nearly doubled over. This evil, heartless man who had never wanted children was holding her son. “I’ll take good care of him, Lindsey. I’ll make sure he has the life only a Faulkner could give him.”

  “No—”

  “He’s not your son,” Mrs. Faulkner stated baldly.

  “What?” Faulkner turned to Lindsey. “You let me think he was?”

  “How many times did you lie to me?” Lindsey snapped back. “This is my son’s life we’re talking about, Jim. You got your freedom, now give me my baby.”

  Faulkner’s eyes turned icy, his voice harsh. “If he isn’t my child, then who the hell is the father?”

  Lindsey bit down on her lip. Faulkner turned to Gavin, rage darkening his eyes as he put two and two together. He slowly handed the child back to the elderly woman and started for Gavin, but his mother grabbed his arm.

  “Wait,” Mrs. Faulkner said. “It’s going to be all right, Jim. It’s really better this way. Now you can leave without any ties to that little witch.”

  Faulkner waved his fists, glaring at Lindsey. “How long were you sleeping with him? Were you making it while we were still married?”

  “No, I never—”

  Jim flashed his father a look of disdain. “If you knew, why didn’t tell me?”

  “You have to believe us, son, when we first arranged to take the baby, we thought he was yours,” Mr. Faulkner said. “Our grandson.”

  “We had her followed. When we found out she was pregnant, we assumed the baby was yours. We figured we’d already lost you. We didn’t want to lose our only grandson. So we had Walt arrange things with Dr. Cross—”

  “Your butler blackmailed Cross into helping you,” Gavin supplied. “Did he try to kill Lindsey, too?”

  “Walt is very loyal,” Mr. Faulkner said. “He’s always done what I asked. In turn, I take care of him and his wife.”

  “Whose idea was it to fake the baby’s death?” Gavin asked.

  “Cross’s,” the old man said matter-of-factly. “Rather ingenious, I thought. When that other baby was stillborn, he decidce Lindsey. He called us right away so we could be there when the baby was born. Everything fell into place, we hired that ex-con to help tail Lindsey—”

  “Danny Swain?” Gavin interjected.

  “Right, he spent some time with little Jim here when you first locked him up. They had a good time comparing notes on you, Mr. McCord.”

  So Swain had been involved. Gavin would make sure he paid for it, too. He massaged the ache in his arm, realizing the wound had started to bleed again. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out but he had to stall. “Why wait so long to make your demands?”

  “Yeah, why did you let me rot in that cell?” Faulkner asked harshly. “You knew every minute I spent in that hellhole was torture.”

  Mrs. Faulkner clutched her son’s arm. “We…we didn’t think of using the baby to win your freedom until we found out the baby wasn’t yours. At first, we…only wanted our grandson. It was fitting, you know. She took our son and put him away so we’d take her son. So we had Walt get him for us. And he was supposed to kill that…that woman, but he kept messing up. Then this stupid cop showed up.” Mrs. Faulkner lay a shaky hand against her neck. “And a few days ago Dr. Cross phoned us, said this detective was asking a lot of questions, that he claimed the baby was his son, not yours, Jim.”

  “So, you knew he was the father,” Faulkner spat in disgust. “And you changed your plans.”

  Gavin grimaced, remembering how he’d blurted the truth to Cross. “You tried to have Lindsey killed so she wouldn’t come looking for the baby. But when you discovered the baby wasn’t your son’s, you decided to use the baby to arrange for his release, then kill us all.” Gavin fought a wave of dizziness. He glanced at Lindsey, saw the fear in her eyes, and something else…trust.

  She trusted him to save them. He couldn’t let her down. Family is the most important thing in the world….

  “I don’t understand,” Lindsey said. “Why go to all that trouble when you said yourself you would have taken me to court? You have so much money—”

  “We had money,” Mrs. Faulkner said bitterly. “Do you realize how much we went through trying to keep Jim out of prison? We wasted half a fortune and it didn’t save him. No, this time we weren’t going to take any chances.”

  “Plus, grandparents rarely win in custody suits involving the birth mother,” Gavin added. “Right, Mr
s. Faulkner?”

  “That is what our attorney said,” she replied curtly. She quickly turned to her son. “We can fly away now. Leave the child, you can start over in Brazil—”

  “I’ll take the baby with me,” Faulkner roared. “Kill them both for what they did to me, then I’ll raise this baby as mine—the son I would have had if Lindsey hadn’t betrayed me.”

  “I never betrayed you. And you never wanted a child, remember?” Lindsey whispered hoarsely.

  “You won’t get away with our murders,” Gavin id, gauging both the young and old Faulkners’ reactions. “The FBI knows where we are.”

  “Then we’d better hurry, hadn’t we?” Faulkner said snidely.

  “No, Jim, please,” Lindsey pleaded. “Just leave Cory with Mac. I’ll go away with you, we’ll start all over, I’ll give you a son of your own—”

  “Give me the baby.”

  All heads turned in shock as another man stepped into the picture. A beefy, bald man with a double chin and a dark mole on his upper lip. His hand shook as he raised a .38. “No one is going to raise this baby but Nora. She’s his mother now.” He gestured toward the nanny clutching the baby in her arms, a distant expression in her glazed eyes.

  Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner both appeared shocked, their son furious. “What the hell are you doing, Walt?” the older Faulkner asked.

  The old man took a step toward Jim. “Put down your gun, Mr. James, you don’t want me to hurt your son, do you?”

  The old woman drifted into another lullaby, rocking the infant gently.

  Gavin kept his gaze on the .38 and the butler. Lindsey’s ex tried to reach for the gun but the old man waved it toward him. “Stop, Mr. James or I’ll shoot.” He gestured toward his wife. “Nora here’s been taking good care of the little boy. She couldn’t have babies of her own, suffered so much trying to have a child, then you came along, Mr. Jim, and your mama was too busy to raise you, so Nora cared for you like you were hers. She sung to you at night, changed your diapers, cooked you soup when you was sick. She should have been your mama.”

  Mrs. Faulkner pressed a shaky hand over her heart, her face bloodred. “James, do something. Walt has completely gone mad.”

  The elderly Faulkner held out a hand to calm him, but the old man spoke again, more fiercely. “I’m through taking orders from you, Faulkner, doing your dirty work.” He shot Jim a pained look. “You were a disappointment, Mr. Jim. Broke Nora’s heart. She thought she’d raised you better than to rob all those people.”

  Jim Faulkner started to sputter an excuse but the old man silenced him with a menacing glare, then turned to the elderly Mr. Faulkner.

  “I said put down your gun, Mr. James. You got what you wanted, your son back. I intend to have what I want, this baby for Nora.” He gestured toward the door. “Now, everyone, go inside.”

  Lindsey’s panicked gaze flew to Gavin’s. Where was his backup?

  “How do you think you’ll get away with this?” Gavin asked.

  “Mr. Faulkner has his private jet all ready to roll. Me and Nora and little Tommy here will just fly on out of here, just like Mr. James planned to do.”

  “But what about us?” Mr. Faulkner asked. “You can’t leave us here. They’ll come back and get Jim—”

  “I told you I’m through taking orders from you and doing your dirty work. All I want is for Nora to keep the baby, our little Tom

  “His name is not Tommy, it’s Cory, Cory Adam Payne,” Lindsey said, enunciating each word clearly.

  The old man frowned, then brushed off her words. “He’ll go by Tommy from now on. Don’t worry, Miss Payne. Ain’t no one gonna love him or be better to him than Nora. You’re still young enough to have another baby, my Nora and me, we can’t….” His voice broke, a single tear slid down his cheek. “And we get so lonely sometimes.”

  The old woman nuzzled the baby to her cheek, humming again so softly it raised the hairs on Gavin’s neck. The man’s expression hardened and he pointed the gun toward the door. “Everyone inside now.”

  Faulkner’s father clutched Lindsey in front of him and raised his gun. “You can take the kid, Walt, but don’t hurt my son.”

  “You can’t leave us here to go to jail,” Mrs. Faulkner cried. “Not after all we’ve done for you—”

  “All you’ve done for me! I’ve been doing your dirty work for years, listening to your orders, heeling left and right and watching Nora work her fingers to the bone cleaning for you. It stops today.”

  Faulkner’s father raised his gun in panic. Gavin saw Lindsey’s determination and hoped he could defuse the situation, but Lindsey suddenly raised her foot and kicked her father-in-law’s knee. He yelped in pain and immediately released her. Just as she dropped to the ground, Gavin dove toward him to grab his gun. But the gun fired just as Gavin tackled him and another bullet slammed into Gavin’s chest, knocking him to his back.

  Within seconds, the FBI swarmed. Gavin rolled sideways and knocked the gun from old man Faulkner’s hand, then rammed his fist into the man’s face. Blood spurted from Faulkner’s nose, his eyes lolled back in his head, then he groaned and passed out. Gavin tried to stand up, saw Simon and Barnes and Jernigan quickly subdue the butler and Lindsey’s ex. Where was Lindsey? Had she been shot?

  Sunlight blinded him as he searched the area for her. The sky was blue, then turned blurry. Tree branches swam in front of his eyes. Blackness quickly drowned out the blue. Gavin’s last pain-filled thought before the darkness sucked him in to its long tunnel was that he wanted to see his son’s face just one time before he died.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lindsey heard the shots behind her and prayed Gavin hadn’t been hit again as she darted up the steps toward her baby. Jernigan tackled the butler while Barnes and Gavin’s partner grabbed her ex-husband and his parents. Her heart fluttered at the sight of her son nestled in the blue blanket, held so lovingly in the old lady’s arms. Dark fine hair covered his head while his small fists lay curled up to his chin in his sleep. His eyelashes suddenly fluttered, then he opened his eyes—the biggest, brownest, most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. Her son had creamy skin, a chubby cherublike face, a square chin like his father’s.

  The woman named Nora turned tear-filled eyes toward Lindsey. “I knew you’d come for him one day. You’re his mama, aren’t you?”

  Lindsey nodded, her own eyes moist.

  “They said you didn’t want him, but I thought different. A mama has a fine little guy like this, she couldn’t give him away.”

  “I always wanted him.” Lindsey ached to reach out and pull her son into her arms, but Nora seemed disoriented, as if she wasn’t fully aware of what was going on around her. “Thank you for watching him, Nora, for loving him.”

  “I took real good care of him, miss, just like I always did little Jim.” She angled her head to look at the baby, brushing her fingers across his small forehead. His big brown eyes gazed back at the woman, a tiny little dimple pulled at his left cheek. He’d already grown so much.

  And he didn’t even know her.

  Then he turned his small round face toward her and a big toothless smile spread onto his face. Tears filled Lindsey’s eyes at the immediate bonding.

  “I loved him just like he was my own little boy.” Nora leaned over and kissed the baby’s forehead, then surprised Lindsey by placing him in her arms. “He belongs with his real mama. Will you bring him to see me every now and then, miss? My house is so awful quiet without little feet pitter-pattering.”

  Lindsey hugged the old lady’s neck as she accepted her son back into her arms. “Thank you again for taking such good care of him, Nora. And, yes, I’ll bring him to see you,” she whispered in a choked voice.

  “He likes to be sung to.” Nora blushed. “He loves it when I sing lullabies.”

  “I promise I’ll sing to him every night.” The tears flowed freely as she stared at her son in amazement. “Hi, Cory, I’m your mommy.” She traced a finger over his soft skin, memorizing ev
ery feature of his face. He was the most beautiful little boy in the world. How could she have thought she might not recognize him? Sure, he’d grown a little but he reminded her more of Gavin than he had the day he was born. She planted soft kisses all over his face, nuzzled her nose against the baby powder scent of his blanket, laughed when a tiny smile formed on his pink mouth.

  But reality around her returned, and she realized the shots had died and the Faulkners were in custody. But Gavin hadn’t appeared beside her. She frantically scanned the area for him, then spotted his partner kneeling on the ground over Gavin’s still body. Fear bolted through her. She could get her son back only to lose Gavin.

  She clutched her baby in her arms and barreled down the steps, racing for the man she loved.

  “I’ve radioed for the EMTs,” the agent said. “They should be here any minute.”

  Lindsey knelt beside Gavin, her heart clinching at Gavin’s chalky pallor. Blood seeped from the makeshift bandage she’d created earlier and she gasped when she noticed a small towel pressed over a second wound.

  “How bad—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “I don’t know, but he’s tough, ma’am. He’ll make it.”

  “He damn well Lindsey said, earning a smile from Gavin’s partner.

  Gavin’s dark eyelashes fluttered. Another flutter. His eyes slowly opened. He blinked again as if to focus. His lips twitched, formed a smile.

  “Linds?”

  “I’m here, Mac.” She lowered her mouth and kissed his forehead, brushing a damp strand of hair from his eyes. “And so is your son.”