by Jenna Kernan
He stepped close, moving so he could see her little sleeping face. “No mask?” he asked.
“We’ve both already exposed her to whatever we’re breathing, and I didn’t want to leave her alone in the nursery.”
She remembered another time she’d held a newborn baby with him here. They’d sent him in because she would not let them take their baby from her.
“Go on, take her,” she’d shouted at him, holding out their baby. “It’s what they sent you in here to do. But don’t come back, because I never want to see you again.”
It shamed her, that outburst. How her pain and grief had spilled out on him.
He turned his troubled eyes from her to Fortune. Then he made a sound in his throat that made her stomach tighten. He smelled like soap, and she could feel the heat and dampness of his skin. The sight of his hand on Fortune’s head caused Lori’s skin to flush and her breathing to increase. He was doing it to her again. Always. The man was like catnip to a house tabby. She was drunk with the sight and smell of him when he finally stepped back.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Retreat was the logical option. Lori made it to the chair by the window in his room, and he followed. He lifted the undershirt from his bed.
“I had a shower. Hope that’s all right. Need some coffee,” he muttered.
“Nurses’ station,” she said, and her voice shook.
His brows sank. “You okay?”
“Not really. No.”
Jake drew on his T-shirt, and her brain began to reengage. She started talking as he dressed, dragging on his body armor and buttoning his uniform shirt. When she got to the part about the dates corresponding to the disappearances, he clipped on his utility belt and adjusted the position of his service weapon.
“Could be a coincidence,” he said, but his expression said otherwise.
“I sure hope so.”
“I’m calling Bear Den.”
“Come on, I’ll get you some coffee.”
He followed her out and back to the nurses’ station, where he poured a cup of black coffee and made the call.
Jake disconnected shortly afterward and looked long and hard at Lori. “He’s finally made it back to my house to check the crime scene.”
“What took so long?”
“He was on another call, a domestic dispute. Had to make an arrest and process the suspect. Get the witness statement and the wife to agree to press charges.”
It happened more often than it should, Lori thought.
“He wants me to meet him there.”
Why did that make Lori feel anxious? She worked nights alone here all the time, and up until this minute, she’d enjoyed the quiet and the babies. Now the clinic had taken on a sinister feel. She met Jake’s stare. He didn’t look happy.
“Lori, I don’t want you staying here alone with Fortune until we know what’s going on.”
“I don’t have the authority to remove her from the clinic.”
“Well, you can’t call Hauser or my brother for authority, since they might be connected to the missing girls.”
Had he just said that? How could Jake so easily consider his oldest brother a suspect of some crime?
“Girls are disappearing, Jake. Not babies. We’ve never lost a baby here.”
He made a face.
“She stays here, Jake. In the nursery with everything we need for her care, along with locks and key cards so she’s safe.”
His hands went to his hips. “Fine. Then I’m staying, too.”
* * *
JAKE LEFT LORI only to accept delivery of a pizza and two liters of soda. He returned with a large cheese-and-sausage—and Detective Bear Den.
Bear Den was a giant of a man, and Lori had heard gossip that he was not actually Turquoise Canyon, but a mix of Apache and Hawaiian. It accounted for the wave in his hair and the width of his shoulders.
Bear Den asked for the dates, and she provided him with the folded sheet of paper on which she had written the dates of the visits of the missing girls, knowing that releasing medical records was a violation of patients’ rights and could get her fired. He was a detective and this was related to a case. Still, she was getting deeper and deeper into trouble. This happened every time she got near Jake Redhorse.
“Don’t mention this connection to anyone, especially not the clinic staff,” Bear Den said to Lori. Then he turned to Jake. “That includes your brother Kee.”
“I understand,” Jake said.
The men stepped down the hall to speak in private. Fortune woke hungry and wet, and Lori was consumed with taking care of the baby until Jake returned alone, his phone pressed to his ear. She buzzed him into the nursery area and heard the message he left for his brother Ty, which surprised her. The relationship between the former gang member and his little brother had been rocky since Jake announced his intention to join the police academy. Had they made amends?
He put his phone in one of the many pockets of his uniform and came to check on the baby.
“Did they figure out where the mother went?” she asked.
“No. That’s why I called Ty. He’s got that dog. She’s a good tracker.”
Lori knew that dog. It went everywhere with Ty. The female was big and black with a collar of fur like a wolf.
“You sure that’s a dog?” she asked.
“German shepherd and husky mix.”
Lori made a sound in her throat and set the sleeping baby back in her bassinet. “If you say so.”
The awkward silence stretched. She shifted, fiddling with the pencils in the metal cylinder on the desk.
“Don’t you have to go in to work tonight?” she asked.
His mouth quirked. “Trying to get rid of me?”
“No.” Her words sounded less than convincing, even to her own ears.
“Tonight this is my work. You and Fortune.” He turned toward the newborn and she followed. They stood a minute, shoulder to shoulder, gazing down at her face, the round cheeks, tiny nose and soft wisp of blond hair. She yawned, and they both chuckled.
“They are amazing,” said Lori.
“Babies?”
She nodded and slipped a hand into the crook of his arm, leaning her head on his shoulder. The muscle there was firm and inviting.
“Did you feed her?” asked Jake, reaching his free hand to stroke the baby’s pink cheek with one finger.
“Yes.” She lifted her head from his shoulder to offer him a smile. “She has a good appetite.”
He looked tentative now as he directed his attention to her. “Do you think I could feed her sometime?”
“Of course.” They always had the fathers feed the babies at the clinic. It helped form a bond. But helping Jake form a bond with this baby was dangerous, because he couldn’t keep her unless he was the father. Lori’s smile faltered. Jake wasn’t the father. Her eyes widened.
Was he?
It would explain why the infant had been left in his truck. Lori released Jake’s arm and stepped back.
“Jake, is that your baby?”
* * *
JAKE TOSSED ON the couch in the lounge most of the night, listening for Fortune’s cry and wondering if Lori was sleeping any better than he was. He’d slept too long in the afternoon after his sixteen-hour shift to be able to sleep well now and had been up both times she heated formula, standing at the window like a new father until she buzzed him in. He held Fortune while she cried in hunger and returned her to Lori to be fed.
His pride still stung at her question. You could tell by just looking at the newborn that he wasn’t the father. He wasn’t a geneticist, but he was fairly certain a brown-skinned man with black hair was not likely to have a baby who looked like she’d been dropped by a Norwegian stork. Jake could not believe Lori had leaped to that conclusion.
But why not? He’d gotten her pregnant, and this baby had been left with him. Jake believed the mother wanted to be certain the infant was protected, and so she’d left her with a police officer. But protected from what, or whom?
He had convinced Lori that this wasn’t his child, but he found the entire discussion disturbing. He had not had a steady woman since high school, when he and Alice Ybarra had broken up and he’d asked Lori out. Since nearly becoming a father, Jake had been much more cautious than other men his age. Trouble was, he wanted to be a father. But he wanted a woman he could trust and who trusted him. Lori Mott was not that woman. So why was he fantasizing about seeing her naked? He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, imagining the light floral scent of her, picturing her beneath him on this lumpy couch.
Dinner had been awkward. Caring for Fortune had been the only thing that felt natural. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But the truth was, he had never gotten over Lori. He’d gone out with Alice Ybarra because everyone expected him to. She was class president and the lead in every play they’d ever staged, and he was the school’s point guard and captain of the basketball and track teams four years running. It wasn’t until Alice found out about the baby that she showed her true colors. Jake did not want a woman with a mean spirit. It had been Alice who told everyone that the pregnancy had been Lori’s fault. And he’d done nothing to shoulder the blame that was more than half his.
Why was it that women were called vile names and men congratulated for doing exactly the same thing? And as for the pregnancy, he’d gotten sympathy. But not Lori. Sympathy was not the reaction of her classmates. They weren’t surprised, and they were not kind. Not at all. He got so he half believed their version of the truth. Or, at least, he had wanted to believe it.
He was still hurt and raw over what had happened between them, but the attraction that had drawn them together all those years ago was still alive and well. She made his skin tingle and his body twitch. His body affected her, too. He saw it. But she was either angry at him or just not willing to deal with all their problems.
Jake threw off the thin hospital blanket she’d offered him, giving up on the notion of sleep. The sun would be up soon, he thought, and then he checked his phone to confirm his suspicion. He walked down the darkened hall on stocking feet and visited the restroom to wash up, then adjusted his rumpled uniform.
He ventured out to the viewing window, gazing in to notice that Fortune was out of her bassinet. He found Lori in the rocker set inside the nursery. She held Fortune naturally to her chest so that the baby’s cheek nestled against the bare skin at her neck. He took in the picture they made, mother and child, the images that he had only kept in his heart until now made suddenly real.
The corridor lights flicked on, and Jake turned to see a large man in scrubs heading toward him.
“Good morning, Officer Redhorse.”
Jake recognized Burl Tsosie, who smiled broadly. The man was the only male nurse at the clinic. That—and his size—made him the go-to person for moving patients. Lori had mentioned that she was only supposed to work until six last night, but she’d stayed over, as well.
“How are you, Burl?”
“Great! Lori told me I didn’t need to come in last night. So I’m well rested. More than I can say for you.”
“You’re early, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I was up. Moving day. The boxes are here. I saw them on my way in.”
Burl had a fleshy face, broad shoulders and a paunch. He wore blue scrubs, white sneakers and a wide grin. Like Lori, Burl’s long, dark hair was pulled back, but his in a single ponytail. He knew Burl was slightly older than him and Lori, but his hairline was receding at an alarming rate.
“I heard you had some excitement yesterday.”
Did Burl mean the auto accident or the baby?
“Yeah.”
“Someone just left her in your truck? Have you found the mother yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Can’t understand it. Who doesn’t love babies?”
Jake thought of his sixteen-year-old self and knew the answer.
“Well, I’ll go make a fresh pot of coffee,” Burl said.
Jake returned to the lounge to retrieve his shoes. He was sitting on the couch, tying his laces, when something pelted the window. At first he thought it was ice, but it stopped immediately. He walked to the window.
The sun was still an hour or so from making an appearance, so it was darker outside the clinic than inside. Another scattering of sand and pebbles hit the window. He pressed his face to the glass and peered out. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light of the setting half-moon.
Something dark jumped up on the window. Jake leaped back, hand going to his pistol as he saw two large paws and the glowing green eyes of an animal.
Chapter Six
“Hemi!” Jake exclaimed, recognizing his brother’s dog. Jake swore and then turned to retrieve his hat and jacket. He was outside the clinic a moment later.
The dog reached him first, her nose pressing to Jake’s trousers. Jake rubbed her head and spoke to the dog.
“Hemi,” he said, his tone admonishing. “You nearly scared me to death.”
The dog cocked her head and retreated, quiet as a moving shadow.
Folks said she looked like a wolf, but that wasn’t right. Hemi had none of the lanky hangdog posture of wild creatures. She was big and black, making her nearly invisible at night. But in the predawn, Jake could see her until she reached the row of bushes that lined the landscaped area between the clinic and road. Hemi was bold, but she couldn’t throw rocks against a window.
“Ty?”
From somewhere out in the darkness came the reply. “Got your message.” Then Ty materialized from the landscape, quiet as his dog.
Jake glanced back to the clinic and then to his brother.
“How did you know I was still here?”
Ty swept a hand toward Jake’s police unit, which was parked in the lot. Ty would have made a very good police officer.
“What’s up?” His older brother had grown blunter since he returned from the US Marines. He lived at his shop and did not spend time with Jake anymore. He missed his brother.
“I need a favor,” said Jake.
“That so?” Ty waited.
Jake looked from his tank of a dog back to Ty. “I found a baby.”
“Skip to the part I don’t know, like what you want.”
Jake remembered a time when Ty used to be his big brother in the figurative sense of the word. Ty had looked out for him, protecting him from bigger kids until he could protect himself. Kee and Ty, the yin and yang of his boyhood. Kee taught Jake how to carve, and Ty showed him how to throw a knife. Kee taught him how to build a sweat lodge; Ty showed him how to set things on fire. Kee taught him how to feed a squirrel out of your hand; Ty taught him how to skin one. Ty had also taught him how to drive and how to play basketball. Ty was the better player, but academics and sports had not been enough to keep him in high school for a minute longer than necessary.
“We can’t find the mother. There’s blood on the gate of my truck. The mother’s blood. I thought you could use it to track her.”
“Far as the road, maybe. She’s white, right?”
“Seems so.” How did Ty know that? He wanted to ask but was somehow afraid to know.
“Start at your truck, right?” asked Ty.
“Yes. Thank you, Ty.”
He snorted and turned away.
“How’s Colt?”
“Surviving. Doesn’t talk.”
“Did he tell you what happened over there?”
Ty shook his head and looked at his boots.
“Can I see him?” asked Jake.
Ty glanced at him over his shoulder. “You tried already, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I did. A few
times.”
“Then you can’t.”
Jake sighed. He wanted to help his little brother, Colt. He didn’t think it was healthy for him to stay all alone in that miner’s cabin up on Turquoise Ridge.
Ty took a few steps away and paused.
“Keep trying,” he said. Then he walked away into the gloom toward the lot. Jake saw the cab light of his truck flash on as Ty held the door for Hemi and then shut it again. A few moments later, Ty was behind the wheel and driving away.
“Quiet truck,” he muttered to no one in particular and headed back inside.
Jake was still thinking about his troubled relationship with Ty and was afraid that one day he’d be called on to arrest his brother. Ty had once been arrested but had managed to avoid jail time thanks to enlistment in the US Marines.
He had to call Lori to get back into the clinic. Burl appeared at the door a few moments later and let him in.
“We have two hours of peace before the patients and doctors arrive,” said Burl.
He followed Burl back to the women’s health wing and the nursery. Burl used his card to let Jake into the nursery, where Lori was wiping down the changing table.
Fortune now lay in her crib, staring up with wide blue eyes.
“Not sleeping?” he asked Lori.
“Not yet.”
Fortune yawned and her eyes blinked. Her lids lowered, and the tiny pale lashes brushed her cheeks. The ringing of Jake’s cellular phone caused her eyes to open wide, and then her brow wrinkled as she began to cry.
“I’m changing that ringtone to Brahms’s ‘Lullaby,’” he said and drew out his phone. “Redhorse,” he said into it. “Yes.” His expression flashed from surprise to worry, and he met Lori’s gaze.
What? she mouthed.
He shook his head. “You want us to come in or wait?...Fine. See you then.” He disconnected and looked at her.
“What?”
“Chief Tinnin is on his way over. He wants to talk to us both.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“Did they find the mother?”
* * *
CHIEF WALLACE TINNIN stood before Jake and Lori in the break room of the tribe’s health clinic. The chief had given up trying to walk with just a cane and now leaned on a pair of ancient wooden crutches that were missing both handgrips. Lori did not know the chief well, but you would have to be blind to miss the look of displeasure in the hard lines of his face.
