by Rita Herron
Cain glared at him. “I’m not hiding the witness. What happened with that John Doe burn victim?”
“Still no word.” Wakefield eyed him carefully. “You’re keeping something from me, partner. What is it?”
“Since when did you become psychic?” Cain muttered sarcastically.
“I’m not, but I’ve worked with you long enough to know you’ve got a hunch who did this.” Wakefield gestured toward the smoldering ashes and waterlogged furniture on the ground. They both spotted the body of the man who’d broken in at the same time and jumped over a patch of smoking wood to get to h
“This guy set the fire, but I don’t know who he is yet.”
The captain waved from the edge of where the front porch had been. “Found some matches and gasoline here. A pretty unsophisticated job.”
Cain nodded and Wakefield leaned down to examine the charred body. An hour later, the scene had been swept for evidence, and photographs had been taken.
Wakefield scavenged through the remains of the bedroom, paused and knelt as he studied something on the ground. Cain’s gut clenched when he saw the object. Neil arched a brow and turned to him with questions in his eyes. He’d found Simon’s pacifier. It had somehow escaped the blaze.
“Since when do you have a kid?” Wakefield asked.
Cain winced. He might be able to explain a woman’s things, but a baby’s?
“Caldwell?” His captain interrupted, issuing orders as the crime team gathered samples and evidence bags and prepared to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Cain nodded and shook his hand. “Thanks.”
Neil hung back, as if still waiting on an explanation. Cain had been partners with him for five years; if he couldn’t trust him, there was no one he could trust.
“I’ll ride back with them, you bring the squad car,” Flack told Neil.
Neil nodded and waited until the others had driven out of sight. “All right, buddy, tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
Neil’s sun-bleached eyebrow rose a notch.
“I need you to keep this between the two of us.”
The other brow shot up.
“For now, at least.” Cain pulled his friend aside, then spilled the entire story, starting with how he’d met Alanna, his own skepticism over her story, and the events of the last few days.
“Are you crazy? Her name and picture are all over the news and the papers,” Neil said through gritted teeth.
“Maybe.” Cain shrugged. “But I do believe she’s protecting this baby, and we know for sure now that someone will kill her to get him.”
“You think the thug who set the fire came after the child?”
“Yes. He had his hands on Alanna when I busted into the room.”
“Did Polenta hire the guy to come after her?”
“I don’t think so. Alanna said he helped her escape with Simon. He sent her here to Eric.”
Neil’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “And you took her word for it?”
“No. But you told me freaky things were going down on Nighthawk Island. And Alanna…well, she’s scared.”
Neil studied him through slitted eyes. Cain shifted, his gaze taking in the remnants of his home, then flickering toward the woods and the cabin where he’d hidden Alanna.
“Geesh, you’ve fallen for this chick, haven’t you?” Neil asked.
“She’s not a chick, she’s a woman who needs our protection.” His voice rose an octave. “You don’t understand, Neil, I think the baby is involved in some sort of research project. I couldn’t find a birth certificate on him and I found files from the center that referred to him as Project Simon.”
Neil pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his expression calm. “All right, say something strange is going down on Nighthawk Island. Say you believe this Hayes woman.” He glanced around the lake, as if he suddenly realized she had been there but now was missing. “Where is she?”
Cain hesitated. “Someplace safe for now.”
“You should report her, Cain. Don’t be stupid like your brother.”
Anger flared inside Cain. “Eric wasn’t stupid. He was a brave man who tried to help women that the system failed.” Even as he defended Eric, questions nagged at him.
He had never recognized those shades of gray existed until now. Had never told Eric how much he admired him for fighting for his cause. “Just help me keep Alanna’s identity under wraps until I can get to the truth.”
Neil opened his mouth to argue when the sound of a boat sputtering across the lake caught Cain’s attention. Suddenly the hair on the back of his neck shot up. The man who’d broken in had been about the same size and height of one of the men who’d followed Alanna to the graveyard.
Where was the other one?
The fishing boat that had anchored in the cove all day…
Fear hit him as the realization sank in. Good God, had the men been watching them all day? If so, was the other man still lurking around?
Had he seen Cain take Alanna to the deserted cabin?
Chapter Twelve
A scraping sound outside the cabin sent an alarm up Alanna’s spine. Then she thought she saw the doorknob turning. She flipped off the small lamp, pitching the room into darkness, and waited silently, nerves on alert. Had the other man from the graveyard followed her here?
If so, she had to hide.
Wincing as the old wooden floors squeaked, she slipped down the hallway, peering through the shadow-filled rooms. Two small bedrooms shared a tiny bathroom, both cluttered with dusty ancient furniture. A cobweb touched her hair as she inched inside the last bedroom, the scent of musty linens stifling as she turned the cold knob on the closet door. Her pulse clamoring, she slid inside, burying herself and Simon against the wall behind a knot of hanging clothes. Alanna prayed that if the man had followed her, he wouldn’t find them.
“LISTEN, NEIL, I’ve got to go.”
“Go where?”
Cain felt for his weapon. “To check on Alanna and the baby. Two men shot at us the other day, and one of them died here tonight. I don’t know where the other one is.”
Neil stared at him long and hard. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
No. “Yes. Just don’t tell anyone about her and the baby. Not until we find out the truth about what’s happening.” Cain’s chest ached with worry. “I can’t let Eric’s death count for nothing.”
“All right. But you could lose your badge over this.”
Cain fisted his hands by his sides. Last week that thought would have kept him from crossing the line. But the memory of Alanna and Simon huddled in his arms, needing his protection as they’d run from the fire clinched his decision. He didn’t have time to analyze his actions. “Keep me posted about Palmer?”
Neil nodded and Cain tore off into the woods at a dead run, grateful he’d grabbed his gun as he searched the forest for intruders. A dog barked somewhere in the distance and twigs snapped beneath his boots. Birds twittered and flapped in the trees above. The five-minute trek felt like hours, but he finally slowed, letting his gaze scan the area surrounding the cabin. The first thing he noticed was that darkness engulfed the dilapidated wooden structure. The light he’d turned on in the kitchen wasn’t visible from the woods, but as he ran to the kitchen door, he realized it had been extinguished.
Had Alanna turned off the lights or had the man who’d followed them here?
His sweaty palms gripped the doorknob as he looked around the stoop for footprints or signs of an intruder. He saw nothing. All senses on alert, he slowly opened the door, craning his head to listen for voices.
An eerie silence greeted him, leaving him cold.
He crept through the cabin, down the hall, into the tiny bathroom, past one small bedroom, then to the end.
The man wasn’t inside. But neither was Alanna.
Cain started back down the hall. Had Alanna gone outside? Had she run away? He searched the sh
adowy den once more, but the faint sound of a baby’s gurgle brought his head around. She and Simon were still in the house somewhere. “Alanna? Where are you?”
Silence.
He crept back to the first bedroom and checked it again, then tiptoed to the second. “Alanna, where are you? It’s me, Cain.”
The door squeaked open. “Cain?”
She ran toward him, her heart in her eyes, and he opened his arms and embraced her. They clung together for several seconds. He breathed in her sweet scent, crushing the baby between them. Adrenaline quickly drained from him, leaving him weak-kneed. Exhaling a shaky sigh, he raked his hands over her hair, down her sides, then cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. “You scared me to death.”
His rough admission seemed to surprise her. It surprised him, as well.
In the past few days, she anad come to mean more to him than a case, and he knew it. But the reality of that realization scared the hell out of him.
“I was scared, too,” she admitted in a hoarse whisper. “I thought I heard someone outside, then I remembered there were two men at the graveyard.
He nodded. “And only one in the house—”
“So I turned off the light and hid.” Her shivering body convulsed against him. “I’m so glad you came back for us.”
He rubbed a knuckle over her cheek. The need to hold her and protect her was overwhelming. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
Her thin shoulders lifted slightly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you turned us in. My God, Cain, you lost your brother—” her voice broke “—and now your cabin, because of me.”
Guilt darkened her blue-green eyes to an almost purplish hue. He remembered the pain in her voice when she’d mentioned her ex-husband, how he’d left her because she couldn’t have a child, and he pulled her into the vee of his thighs. So close her legs brushed his.
“This is not your fault,” he said, realizing he believed the words as he spoke them. He lowered his hand and stroked Simon’s chubby hand, smiling when the little boy opened his eyes and peered at him so trustingly. “But we have to find out exactly who wants Simon and what they plan to do with him.”
DAWN ROSE on the horizon by the time they’d both settled down. Exhaustion pulled at Alanna as she fed Simon a bottle and rocked him back to sleep. Simon seemed slightly pale, adding to her worries. Cain stood guard at the window, searching the fading darkness for signs the other man had followed them.
With a featherlight kiss, she placed Simon on the extra bed in the first bedroom, then returned to the dingy kitchen. “Cain, I’ve been thinking.”
His forehead creased into a frown.
“Maybe I should find the monastery that your brother used and let them help me go underground somewhere. It’s not fair—”
“No.”
His sharp tone took her aback. “But why not? I’ve already caused your brother’s death.”
“We’re not certain about that.”
She chewed her lip. “Well, we’re fairly certain that you lost your cabin because of me. And you could have lost your life.”
Cain’s eyes darkened. “Is that why you want to leave? To protect me.”
“I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me.” Her voice quivered. “I’m the one who ran away with Simon to protect him. You and your brother just got dragged into it.”
A flash of something sexual sparked in Cain’s eyes as he moved toward her. Tension rippled between them for one long heartbeat before he pressed a finger to her lips. “Maybe you did drag me into it, but I’m involved now, and I’m no
“But—”
“No buts.” Hunger filled the air between them. “I want to see you and Simon safe. Not having to live on the run. You can’t honestly tell me that’s what you want.”
Alanna shook her head slowly, the touch of his finger against her mouth so erotic she couldn’t resist pressing her lips to the tip. The heated look that erupted on his face nearly took her breath away. Then the subtle tension was gone, and desperate, savage hunger appeared in its wake.
The harsh way he pulled her to him should have frightened her; instead the intenseness of his passion was titillating. His mouth captured hers, seeking, yearning, expressing his desire to claim her, and she succumbed to the pleasure, reveling in the play of his tongue along her mouth. Seconds later, his tongue teased her lips apart, torturing the inner recesses of her mouth, and his hands began a sensual trail along her spine.
Fingers teased and stroked her back, then slipped around to the underside of her breasts, causing her to swell against his touch. She threaded her fingers into his hair, hanging on his every movement as he lowered his mouth to nibble at the sensitive shell of her ear, then to the tender skin of her neck. He made her feel desired. Wanted. Loved.
Feelings she’d thought had died with her divorce.
His masculine scent enveloped her although the smokiness from the fire still lingered. The memory of their brush with death only fueled her hunger more, and she slid one foot up and down his calf, smiling as he growled into her ear. His hands circled her breasts, first cupping the small mounds, then teasing her nipples through the thin cotton sleep shirt she still wore. The muscles in his legs bunched against her thighs, his sex swelling and hardening, pushing toward her stomach, triggering a surge of moisture to pool inside her. Dropping her hands to cup his butt, she released a throaty moan, silently telling him she wanted more.
But the telephone jangled, breaking into their lovemaking with the sharpness of a siren. Cain hesitated, then slowly lifted his head and looked into her eyes. Passion glazed the dark irises along with regret.
“I’d better get that. Why don’t you lie back down,” he suggested softly. “You have to be exhausted.”
She nodded. Quivering with longing and emptiness as he pulled away, she hugged her arms around her middle.
“We will finish this,” he murmured in a hoarse whisper.
She couldn’t reply, could only watch as he snapped his cell phone open. He stepped outside to answer the call, leaving her achy and alone.
DAMMIT. His old FBI buddy Luke had rotten timing. Cain hated to leave Alanna trembling from his touch, but hopefully he’d get some information that might help him save her and Simon. And find Eric’s killer.
“Caldwell here.”
“Hey, man, it’s Luke.”
“What did you find out about CIRP and Project Simon?”
“Not a lot. Polenta is not only a renowned geneticist but a humarian. Seems he had an infant son born with severe mental defects. The baby died shortly after birth. The incident inspired him to switch from internal medicine to pursue genetic disorders and genetic engineering.”
“Any specifics on his most recent work?”
“I talked to Denise Harley, the doctor who was kidnapped last year. She was working on a research project to increase cognitive growth at the fetal stage. When the company tried to sell the work out from under her, she destroyed the files. But she admitted it’s possible someone copied the file before she could destroy the data. Or that they might have expounded on her work.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“There was some speculation about creating a superintelligent child.”
Simon? The baby appeared normal, although he was only four and a half months old.
“Their specific study isn’t approved for human testing yet. All that controversy over cloning and stem cell work has slowed down approval while groups address ethical issues.”
“But someone could have experimented on the side. And since the human studies weren’t legal yet, whoever had done them would want to keep things quiet.”
“Right. And they’d want to keep Simon nearby.”
“How about overseas? Would it be possible to sell the work to another country?”
“Sure. Some foreign governments don’t have as stringent requirements as the U.S. Just like some countries have banned human cloning while others haven’t actually taken a
stand. Animal cloning is becoming more common, and the University of Georgia has one of the foremost cloning centers in the world.
“Now, tell me why you’re so interested in all this.” Determination hardened Luke’s voice. “Do you have information on the attack on Polenta and his missing baby?”
Cain hated to lie to his friend, but he’d already told one too many people about Alanna. “I don’t know yet,” he hedged. “But if I find something, you’ll be the first to know.”
Cain hung up, troubled by what he’d learned. Proving his speculations would be difficult. Keeping Alanna and Simon safe in the meantime would be even more difficult.
His body hardened simply thinking about the beautiful woman lying inside. A few minutes ago, he’d been ready to take her. He’d momentarily forgotten the repercussions of a personal involvement. But he couldn’t forget.
He had too much baggage to get attached to a woman, and a job that kept him at odds with normal life. She would want permanence, a man to stick around and be a father to Simon.
And he wasn’t that man.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Alanna fed Simon a bottle, then settled him into the car seat so they could drive to town for supplies. All of Cain’s clothes and toiletries had been lost in the fire, as well as hers, and Simon needed more formula and diapers. The poor baby had been unusually fussy all day, adding to the mounting ten between her and Cain. Worry pricked at Alanna, and she constantly checked Simon for a fever and signs of illness. Of course, he might simply be reacting to her anxiety. Babies were sensitive enough to do that and Simon seemed especially perceptive.
Cain had confiscated an old ski hat and overcoat for her from the cabin where they were staying and gave her tips on blending into the crowd and not drawing attention to herself.
Any evidence of his earlier hunger for her had disappeared. In its place, he wore a mask of calm detachment. She had no idea what had happened, but he’d resorted to giving her impersonal looks and keeping his distance. She missed the gentle touches and passion in his eyes, but reminded herself not to let his withdrawal bother her.
