The Cradle Mission

by Rita Herron

  “I think it is her,” the redhead whispered.

  “She brought that cop in with a gunshot wound.”

  “You think he’s protecting her?”

  “If he is, we have to turn him in, too. She’s not only a kidnapper, but now she shot and killed that OB-GYN—”

  Alanna’s blood constricted, her head spinning. She had to escape.

  Adrenaline pumping through her, she slipped into the shadow of the doorway, then turned and jogged back down the hall toward Cain’s room. Panic seizing her, she shoved open the door.

  “Cain, we have to get out of here now.”

  Cain was already sitting on the edge of the bed with his shoes on, tugging his jeans over his hips. His look of alarm only added to her anxiety.

  “What happened?”

  “One of the nurses recognized me.”

  “Damn.” Cain jerked at the IV, but Alanna dashed over and disconnected it.

  “Cain—” her voice broke “—they think I killed the OB-GYN who delivered Simon.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cain grimaced. Being a suspect didn’t necessarily bother him, but knowing his picture might soon be plastered all over the TV like Alanna’s would definitely slow them down. He needed help, not only from his partner, but from the FBI. He’d phone Luke as soon as they found a safe place to hide.

  Alanna slid an arm beneath his shoulder. As much as he hated to have to accept her assistance, he leaned against her while they hurried down the corridor. At the end of the hallway, they met an orderly who gave him an odd lo, but he simply smiled. “Just stretching the legs.”

  The man nodded and ambled on, pushing a cart of juice and magazines.

  Footsteps indicated a team of doctors approaching. He and Alanna ducked into an alcove containing soda and snack machines, then picked up the pace until they reached the elevator. Just as it dinged open and they climbed inside, more footsteps pattered behind them.

  “There they go,” one of the nurses called.

  Cain hit the down button and held his breath while the elevator descended.

  “If they stop us, I’ll turn myself in,” Alanna admitted. “I won’t let you take the blame for my actions.”

  He squeezed her arm and shook his head. “We’ll find a way out of this mess, Alanna. I promise you.” The door opened and they stepped out, dodging a security guard talking on a walkie-talkie. Ducking into the crowded emergency room, they tried to blend with the crowd as they wove their way outside. Dewy grass made their trek slippery, the hum of thick morning traffic a reminder that life for some people was normal.

  A few harrowing seconds later, they ran toward Cain’s car. The stitches in his shoulder pulled, but he ignored them.

  Twenty minutes later, Cain picked the lock on an abandoned beach cottage on Skidaway Island outside Savannah, his conscience only slightly nagging at him. He’d considered a hotel but that would be the first place the police would look.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Alanna said. “We could be arrested for breaking and entering.”

  A wry chuckle escaped him. “Honey, a B and E charge is the least of our worries.”

  Alanna helped him inside, closing the curtains while Cain checked the rear. When he finally walked back to the tiny den with its threadbare furniture and wicker rug, she turned and clutched her head in her hands, looking as if she might faint any second from pure misery.

  THE ROOM FELT as if it were closing in on Alanna. She had always been a good person, an honest citizen. She had never cheated on a test in school or hurt anyone intentionally.

  But now she had caused the death of one man and the police wanted her for kidnapping and murder. The trembling started deep inside, so deep she felt as if her insides might explode. The agony of knowing Simon might be lost to her forever was too much to bear in the face of the morning sunlight.

  “All I wanted to do was to protect Simon,” she whispered in a thready voice. “I even left my grandmother behind to save him.”

  Cain’s gaze locked with hers, his understanding look surprising her. “I know. And I’m sure he’s all right.” He moved toward her, but she couldn’t accept his comfort, not when she’d caused him so much grief already.

  “I should check on Gram while I’m here.”

  “It’s too dangerous to visit her,” Cain warned.

  Alanna hugged her arms around herself. “Mayb could at least call and see if she’s all right.”

  He frowned. “Get a shower. I’ll see if I can find us something to eat. Then we’ll talk about calling.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “But you need to keep up your energy. We have a long fight ahead of us, Alanna.” His voice grew low. “You can’t give up now.”

  “What if the owner comes back here, Cain?”

  “This place has been deserted for the winter. It was boarded up, remember?”

  She nodded, although tears welled in her eyes.

  Cain brushed a knuckle over her cheek. “I’ll get the heat going. Go get that shower.”

  Alanna nodded and thanked him, then found the dingy shower.

  But as she stepped beneath the warm spray of water, defeat settled over her. An emptiness threatened to consume her. She had done everything in her power to keep Simon and protect him.

  But she had failed. And now Simon might be lost to her forever.

  WHILE ALANNA SHOWERED, Cain searched the cupboard and found a box of pancake mix that seemed fresh along with syrup, and decided to make them breakfast. But first he had to clean himself up and call Luke.

  He used the extra bathroom and washed up as best he could with his bandaged shoulder, wishing he had a razor to shave. Although a beard might help disguise his face if he needed it.

  Using his cell phone, he punched in Luke’s number, not wanting to phone the FBI directly in case someone had discovered that he and Luke had been in contact.

  “Luke, this is Cain.”

  “God, am I glad you called. Where are you?”

  “It’s better I don’t say.”

  “What’s going on, Caldwell? First, you ask me to check into the medical research at the Coastal Island Research Park the same day a kidnapping at CIRP occurs, then last night there’s a murder, and now you won’t divulge your whereabouts.”

  “Trust me, if I get in trouble over this, I don’t want you going down with me.”

  A long silence ensued. “You know something about that OB-GYN’s murder, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know who killed the doctor. But Alanna Hayes didn’t do it.” Cain grunted. “You’ll be the first to know if I figure out who did.”

  “All right, as long as you’re certain you know what you’re doing.”

  Cain glanced toward the back bedroom, his body thrumming with desire at the sound of the shower, at the mere thought of Alanna’s naked body covered in soapy bubbles.

  What was he doing? Lusting after a woman who might have caused his brother’s death? Harboring a fugitive and diving headfirmurky gray waters?

  “Cain?”

  “I do. Have you learned anything new about CIRP?”

  Luke cleared his throat. “Nothing concrete, but word is that Arnold Hughes is actually alive and going to resurface.”

  Cain ran a hand down the peeling wallpaper. “You have someone on the inside looking for him?”

  “Not yet, but we will.” He exhaled. “Trouble is, we think he’s had plastic surgery, so no one will recognize his face.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “You do the same.”

  “Okay, but one more thing. See what you can find out on a woman named Phyllis French. She claims to be a reporter for the Savannah Times.” Luke agreed, then Cain hung up, but a muffled sound from the shower jerked his mind back to Alanna. He shoved the phone into his pocket and moved toward the noise, disturbed by the sound. Alanna was crying.

  Her violent sobs tore at him, resurrecting the grief that had consumed him since he had lost Eric.
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  One day soon Alanna would walk out of his life. Then what would he have left?

  Rational thoughts fled and he pushed open the bathroom door, halting when he saw her back pressed against the steamy stall, her hands covering her face. Unable to stop himself, he grabbed a towel from the shelf above the toilet, opened the door and wrapped her in it. Surprised when she didn’t protest, he patted her dry, his body thrumming with arousal at the sight of her slender frame glistening with water droplets. Her skin shimmered like gold, the iridescent softness of her skin beckoning his touch. His pulse clamored as the dim light of the bathroom flickered across pert rosy nipples, and glowed in a honeyed line down her flat belly to her sex below. His throat went dry.

  But he didn’t want to take advantage of her pain, so he enveloped her in a dry towel and hugged her to him.

  “Cain, no, I’ve caused you too much trouble.”

  “Shh, let me hold you.” Emotions zinged through him when she turned those big blue-green eyes toward him. Hunger, need, loneliness echoed in the depths, a primitive call to his own empty soul.

  An iron double bed draped in a simple white chenille bedspread filled the small bedroom that connected to the bath. Her gaze fell to his bandaged shoulder, to the dark hair on his bare chest, to the waistband of his jeans. An unspoken current of need, strong and potent, rippled between them. He’d forgotten he was half-naked himself, and was stunned when she traced a finger gently around the edge of the bandage. “Are you in pain?”

  God, yes. But not from the gunshot wound. “No. A little sore, that’s all.”

  “I’m so sorry I involved you in all this, Cain.”

  “Stop it, Alanna. You didn’t start this, the people at CIRP did.” He rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms, itching to strip that towel and touch her skin, to put some color and light back into her face and eyes, to make her forget all her troubles, at least for a little while.But he couldn’t do that without promising her more than a one-night stand, and he couldn’t promise her more than tonight. Hell, he couldn’t even promise her that he would be able to put Simon back in her arms, much less a happy-ever-after.

  He turned to leave her to dress, to give her the privacy she deserved, to save himself from making a big mistake. But just as he turned, she caught his hand and brought it to her lips, then brushed the softest kiss across his fingers.

  The urgency of her silent request slammed into him. He could no more walk away from her now than he could walk away from finding his brother’s killer. Growling a low moan filled with pent-up savage hunger, he captured her mouth with his and took her in his arms.

  ALL ALANNA KNEW was that she wanted Cain with a desperation that took her breath away. She threaded her fingers into his hair, drawing his mouth harder, firmer onto hers until his tongue made a luscious foray inside her hungry mouth and his sex hardened and surged against her belly. Then he tore the towel off and she stood like a virgin, shivering beneath the scrutiny of his passion-glazed eyes. The pain of losing Simon and the fear of almost losing Cain blended into a need so achingly deep that control completely slipped through her clutches.

  He slid his hands down her shoulders, teasing nerve endings that sang from his touch, then slowly cupped her breasts in his hands. She almost protested, remembered how her ex-husband had found her lacking, but this was different. This was about offering comfort. Feeling alive again and taking away each other’s pain for just a little while.

  A smile curved his mouth as he pinched her nipples with his fingers and liquid heat pooled in her belly. Moaning, she traced a finger down his uninjured shoulder, then trailed her hands down to his waist. He quickly took off his belt and tossed it to the floor. His jeans went next, the play of muscles in his thick thighs wickedly delightful. She had never reveled in a man’s body before, but the minute he unveiled his belly and then his sex, arousal rippled through her.

  Hands that had held a gun the day before and protected her now slid across skin hot and fluid beneath his loving touch. Then his mouth and hands were everywhere, suckling, teasing, torturing her in every sensitive spot from the nape of her neck to the inside of her thighs to the tips of her toes. Alanna had never been loved so thoroughly.

  Flooded by a rush of erotic sensations, she gently pushed him back on the bed and returned the favor, first flicking her tongue along his mouth, then dragging it down his neck and chest to his taut nipple where she paused to suckle him as he had her. He bucked beneath her, driving her wild as his sex jutted toward her heat, straining for entry. But she fought off the sweet release instead and lowered her head, tasting him as he’d tasted her, driving him wild with a wanton frenzy of hungry strokes until he called her name. He dragged her off him and pushed her onto her back. Bracing himself with his uninjured arm, he growled her name and gazed into her eyes, the raw primal need there mirroring her own. With a lick of his tongue down her breasts, he eased her legs apart and plunged inside her.

  Alanna clawed his back, digging into his corded muscles as he rode her into oblivion, their sweat-soaked bodies moving together until they both exploded in ecstasy.

  60;

  WHITE-HOT SENSATIONS spiraled through Cain, the room spinning with the intense heat still coursing through him. Knowing he was probably crushing Alanna, he lifted himself on his uninjured arm and forced himself to look into her eyes. The passion still shimmering in her gaze brought his arousal to life again.

  “Don’t move,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

  “I’m crushing you.” He gently eased off her but rolled her into his arms, dragging her close. He was sweating, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she traced a titillating finger through the hair on his chest, raking downward toward his belly. His sex throbbed, thick and full.

  He told himself he should pull away. Get up and put some distance between them. But his emotions were too damn raw and close to the surface to leave Alanna just yet.

  Somehow she had filled the emptiness in his soul with her courage and warmth, and he couldn’t face returning to that hollow loneliness again. He cradled her head against his chest, tangling his legs with hers, and let himself enjoy the erotic feel of her breasts against him. Trying not to analyze the moment or their lovemaking too much, he whispered kisses into her hair and murmured nonsensical nothings into her ear until her raspy breathing slowly faded into sleep. Then and only then, did he allow himself to relax enough to join her.

  CAIN BOLTED AWAKE at the sound of the phone ringing. He glanced at Alanna’s sleeping form cuddled into the curve of his body and hated to move. But early-afternoon sunlight spilled into the room. He scrubbed his face over his hand, unable to believe they’d slept so long. Yet the sweet remnants of exhaustion from their lovemaking still simmered through him.

  The phone.

  Easing his arm from beneath her head, he slid his legs over the side and pushed himself up, then dug in the pocket of his jeans until he found it. He hurried to the den.

  “Caldwell here.”

  “Cain, it’s Neil.”

  Something must have happened. “What’s up, man? Do you have some news?”

  “Actually, I do.” Neil hesitated, an odd note to his voice that Cain couldn’t pinpoint. Excitement maybe. “You aren’t going to believe this, Cain.”

  “What?”

  “It’s about that witness in the feds case.”

  “You found him?”

  “We’re not a hundred percent, but the John Doe burn victim at Grady finally came out of his coma.”

  “It was the witness?”

  “No.”

  He shot a worried look at the bedroom, his gut pinching when Alanna strode to the door, wrapped in the sheet, her hair mussed, eyelids heavy with sleep, her cheeks pink from the rough stubble of his unshaven jaw. “Look, Neil, I’m not into games this morning—”

  “It’s afternoon, and get this.” His partner’s voice sounded odd. “The man in the hospital claims he’s your brother.”

  Chapter Seventeen
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  Alanna paused in the doorway, chastising herself for feeling so lonely when she’d woken up to an empty bed. She had been sleeping alone forever, it seemed, and she would be sleeping alone a lot more in the future. She knew better than to allow herself to get emotionally attached to Cain. Still, their lovemaking had been so intense and wonderful that the wall she’d built around her heart since her divorce had cracked, letting in a surge of feelings and wants that could only lead to heartache.

  Cain’s face suddenly paled, and he held the phone to his ear in a death grip. They couldn’t face more bad news, not today.

  “I’ll be right there.” Cain ended the call and his gaze flew to her, an odd expression tightening his mouth.

  “What is it, Cain? Is there news about Simon?”

  His mouth tightened even more. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then who was on the phone?”

  “My partner. There was a John Doe in the burn unit at Grady Hospital. The police thought he might be a witness to a crime they were hunting for, but the man woke up this morning…” His voice trailed off, riddled with emotions.

  “What is it, Cain?” She crossed the room to him, pulled his hand in hers and rubbed the callused skin. Earlier those fingers had stroked her tenderly, igniting a fiery passion that still burned deep in her belly. Now they clung to her as if asking for silent understanding in return.

  His gaze met hers. “I don’t know whether to believe it or not, but the man claimed he’s my brother.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Oh, my God, is it possible Eric survived? I thought you said his car exploded.”

  “It did. I watched it burn myself.” His eyes narrowed. “But somehow he must have gotten out and stumbled away. The man who died in the car must have been the witness the feds have been searching for.”

  The ramifications of what Cain had said sank in. “Then your brother is alive. Cain, that’s wonderful.”