Her Lost and Found Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  A fleet of container ships his father had purchased had made millions instead of the billions he’d first projected. He’d sold them off for twice as much as he’d paid for them. Johnny had handled the deal.

  “I’m talking failure, Dad. As in not succeeding?”

  “What’s this all about, Johnny?” his mother asked. Anne was a worrier. “What’s this talk about failure? What’s going on?”

  “Sometimes you reach a point when you realize the venture isn’t serving you as well as you’d hoped, so you realize you don’t want it anymore, and you cut your losses,” his father said right after her.

  Johnny wasn’t concerned about not wanting something. Exactly the opposite.

  “What about wanting it and failing to make it work?”

  “I don’t believe in that kind of failure.”

  “How can you not believe in failure? It exists.” He’d always known that. Just hadn’t been personally privy to the experience. “Here’s an example, that while maybe over the top, explains my point. Kids get abducted and no matter how hard their parents and the cops try to find them, they aren’t always successful.”

  Sometimes bad things happened in life and you were powerless to fix them.

  “They only fail if they stop trying to find them.”

  “What if they turn up dead?” What if...in the end... Tabitha didn’t find her Jackson? Or didn’t find him well and happy?

  “They didn’t fail, then, did they? They found the child.”

  Alex thought they were talking analogy—something Johnny had been doing with his father since grade school. He had no idea that what Johnny had failed at was finding a child.

  Failing the partnership set up to find the child.

  “The results of our ventures might not be as satisfying as we’d hoped, but the only way we fail is if we quit trying,” Alex added. “As long as you’re trying, the chance for success is there.”

  His dad was right. Although the partnership with his temporary neighbor seemed to be hitting a rough patch, overall it was working. He had his food truck success. And Tabitha had a potential lead to follow on Jackson. They weren’t failing.

  He just had to keep trying.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They worked according to Tabitha’s schedule and since she had the next weekend off she had a total of seven days before she had to be back to work.

  They’d work the truck all week including the upcoming Sunday, park it and then drive home so she could go to work Monday morning, which meant she had six whole days to be close to Jackson, to share the suite with Johnny. She wanted to savor every minute of her time with Johnny.

  And yet it felt as if she and Johnny were barely friends now. The partnership was thriving, but since that kiss, he hadn’t looked her in the eye for more than a second. And he hadn’t touched her at all. Not even brushing by her in the truck.

  She understood. His physical state would become unbearable if he had to walk around with a semiconstant hard-on.

  Maybe she’d been wrong to think she wouldn’t be able to handle unconditional sex with him.

  She’d handled everything else life had handed her. Good, bad and in between. Including tragedies that would stop a lot of people. Surely she’d get through saying goodbye to Johnny. Even if she had sex with him.

  Leaving her room on Thursday morning, she made up her mind to hit on him that night. She’d get a bottle of wine—not the pricey nectar they’d had the week before, of course, but something nice that was within her budget. And she’d suggest that, instead of snacking in the truck and eating out on the way home, they close up a little early and head back to the suite for room service.

  She was considering the idea of pleading fatigue so he’d be amenable to dinner in the hotel, half afraid she’d have to concoct some reason to get him to agree, when she saw him come out of his room with his phone to his ear.

  Johnny on the phone wasn’t all that odd. The completely serious and focused expression on his face was downright scary.

  Thoughts of seduction fled immediately as she approached him.

  He was telling his caller to contact him immediately with any news and then he hung up.

  “Who was that?” Something told Tabitha it had to do with her. Probably the way he was looking at her...

  “Montgomery.”

  The private investigator. Tabitha stumbled as her tennis shoe caught on the marble-tiled entryway. “What’s going on?” Her skin cooled, and it felt like shards of glass were stinging her.

  “Matt didn’t leave at his normal time this morning. His van is still in the driveway. When the guy on night watch noticed the discrepancy, he was too late...”

  “Too late?” The blood drained out of her body. She could actually feel it leaving.

  “When he didn’t answer the knock on the door—a would-be wrong address for a delivery if he had answered—Montgomery’s entire team began canvassing the area. They got a local bus driver who said Mark and the little guy boarded about six this morning. He let them off at another stop, several miles away. Montgomery and his group lost track of him from there.”

  “So...maybe his van didn’t start, and he had to take the bus to work.”

  “He’s not at work. He’s usually in by seven,” Johnny told her, something she hadn’t known. “Mallory opens up at six and Jason is one of the first kids there every morning.”

  Something else she hadn’t known.

  Oh, God. Jackson...

  “He found out he was being watched,” she said, feeling light-headed.

  “We don’t know that yet.” Johnny’s voice was close, reassuring. His arm came around her, and he led her to the couch.

  She needed to know. And had to pull it together. She wasn’t some weak-kneed woman who couldn’t be there for her son.

  Except that she hadn’t been. She’d dropped him off and driven away, leaving Mark to pack him up and run...

  She looked at Johnny. Focused on the encouragement in his blue eyes. He seemed to be promising her something. Panic receded for a second, and she tried to rally her thoughts. Control them. Think.

  “What day is it today?”

  He said the date and, hearing it aloud, it hit her.

  She should’ve known. “It’s the anniversary of his mother’s death,” she said. The police had given her the date when they’d figured it for the trigger that had set Mark in motion.

  “What if he’s going to the cemetery?” she said, staring at Johnny. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he hit a button and was speaking almost immediately. He gave instructions for Alistair to go to the cemetery in Mission Viejo and then had her call Detective Bentley, who said that while they’d kept watch on the grave over the year, they, of course, couldn’t have someone there twenty-four/seven. He told her not to get her hopes up, but that they’d send someone over to keep an eye on Mark’s mother’s plot. They didn’t really expect him to just walk up to it right out in the open, though. Not while being on the run.

  “If Matt’s not Mark, why would he go to the trouble of leaving his home covertly, taking a bus instead of just getting in his van and going about his day?”

  “Could be they were taking a bus downtown to the zoo.”

  Could be.

  “Or to the airport. Maybe he didn’t want to pay for parking.”

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she asked, “You think they’re running?”

  “Or going on a planned vacation. We need to think positive and let Montgomery’s team do their jobs.”

  “What if he realized he was being watched? What if he’s run again?”

  “Positive thoughts, Tabitha.”

  She nodded. Had to get over to Mark/Matt’s house. To be among Jackson/Jason’s things. And knew she couldn’t. She had no right to be anywhere near the man. Or his son.

  Tabi
tha’s color returned when Johnny got Braden Harris on the phone. Montgomery had visited Harris’s professional building. He’d seen that Matt’s gym was closed. He’d introduced himself to Mallory and asked if Jason was absent that morning. But Johnny wanted more. Braden trained with Matt several times a week. At the very least, he would know whether or not his personal training sessions had been canceled. And if so, Johnny wanted the reason Braden had been given.

  Montgomery could’ve done that, too, but Johnny needed to do something. And he figured Braden Harris would be more likely to talk to him. The man was all about loyalty, and while he and Johnny weren’t buds by any means, they’d established a respect for each other.

  “Yeah, I knew he was going to be gone today,” Braden said, as soon as Johnny explained the reason for his call. “We rescheduled my morning session.”

  “When did he reschedule?” If it had been this morning... If the change in plan was that sudden...

  “At the end of Tuesday’s workout. He said he wouldn’t be in on Thursday.” So the absence was planned. “We’re doing an extra session on Monday to make up for it.” And now they knew Matt planned to be back.

  “Did he say why he was taking the day off?”

  Johnny noted Braden’s hesitation. Looked at Tabitha on the couch, watching him, and schooled his features as he’d learned to do in moot court during law school.

  “Repeating information that was given to you regarding your own schedule will in no way implicate you in anything.”

  “I understand,” Braden said, his tone congenial but brooking no pressure, either. “His explanation was personal, though.”

  All the more reason Johnny wanted to hear it. “In your Tuesday session, did you ask him anything pertaining to the list we gave you?” They’d only delivered the list late Monday night. And Braden hadn’t called with anything since then.

  “I did, actually. I asked him if he was a fan of milk or dark chocolate because the woman before me had left a box for him.” Mark only liked milk chocolate.

  “And?”

  “He said he’s a trainer. He doesn’t put chocolate in his body.”

  A nonanswer.

  “Anything else?”

  Johnny turned his back to Tabitha when there was another silence on the line. He walked to the window overlooking the harbor. And waited.

  “This isn’t right,” Braden finally said. “Some of the things on that list... Any number of people would have affirmative responses.”

  “And the more there are, the more compelling our suspicions become.”

  “He used to inline skate.”

  Johnny remembered that one. Mark had quit skating after being hit by a truck pulling out of a parking lot just as he was on the road, skating by.

  “Did he say why?”

  “He said he took a hard fall.”

  Because he’d been hit by a truck? Johnny wanted to ask.

  But he didn’t say any more. He just continued to wait. He understood the other man’s struggle. And he knew that if he were to push at that moment, the phone call would be over.

  “I feel like crap doing this,” Braden said.

  “If we’re wrong, and you feel a need, you can tell Matt that you helped us out under duress. A reasonable man is going to understand. And if there’s even the slightest chance that we’re right...”

  “I’m not comfortable invading this guy’s privacy, but he took off because it’s the anniversary of his wife’s death, okay? Said he wanted to spend the day with Jason, having fun, taking him places Jason’s mother would’ve loved, telling him about her. Now just leave the guy alone, would you?”

  Johnny couldn’t do that. He told Braden so. And ended the call.

  “What are the chances that one man’s wife and another man’s mother die of the same disease on the exact same day?” he muttered to himself. And that both men had a son the exact same age whose names both started with J. He turned back to Tabitha the second he got off the phone.

  “Matt took the day off because it’s the anniversary of his wife’s death?” She was standing now, her mouth open. She hugged her sides and Johnny wanted the arms wrapped around her to be his.

  He told her about the inline skating similarity, too, but still wasn’t convinced it meant anything. At least, not by itself. Maybe together with all the other similarities...

  “If a guy was hit by a truck, wouldn’t he just say so?” he asked her.

  “Unless he’s changing his stories to fit a new identity, while sticking to enough of the truth to prevent making unnecessary mistakes.” Tabitha’s tone was even. Almost calm.

  And she had a point.

  “I think you should call Bentley.”

  Maybe she could have Jackson back by nightfall...

  That possibility brought a myriad of emotions Johnny couldn’t identify.

  “And since he told Braden he’s taking the day off because of the anniversary, he probably doesn’t know anything about us. He’s going to the gravesite and will come right back,” Tabitha continued.

  He nodded, agreeing that the chances of that were good, wanting the police to believe, as well. Mark might have handed them the opportunity they needed to catch him. Johnny knew he’d rest easier once Montgomery’s people had an eye on Mark/Matt again. Which they should soon. If he went to the cemetery, as predicted.

  And as Tabitha expected. She’d insisted from the very beginning that Mark wouldn’t go far to start his new life. That he’d need to stay close enough to visit his mother.

  “The only thing is...” Tabitha’s voice trailed off and she frowned.

  “What?”

  “Why take the bus?” she asked, a look of fear returning to her eyes. “Why not just drive his son in the family van?”

  “Because he doesn’t want any part of his current identity tied to his previous one,” he said. “I’m guessing he’ll keep a low profile, probably wear a hat, baggy clothes, maybe a hoodie.”

  Which was also why he probably wouldn’t go to his mother’s grave that day. Matt might visit his wife’s grave, if there was one. But Mark...

  Johnny’s mental gears were in full motion. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. Braden had said that Matt was planning to take his son to places his wife would have loved, not to the cemetery.

  “Where would Mark’s mother love to be?” he asked Tabitha, picking up his tablet to make a list. She’d mentioned that his mother liked ice cream. And flowers. But very little else.

  “Mark never talked about his mom. Like I said, I didn’t even know he lived with her until after I’d stopped hanging out with him. After that, he mentioned the ice cream thing once, because he let Jackson try some. And the flowers...he’d taken Jackson to a flower shop to pick up some lilies for his mother at Easter. That’s how I knew they were her favorite flower. He said so that day.”

  If they could figure out where Mark might spend the day, if Montgomery could check out flower shops and ice cream parlors in the area where Mark used to live, or even in San Diego. If they could narrow it down...

  If they were right, Tabitha really could have her son in her arms before the sun set on that day.

  Another surge of emotion hit Johnny at the thought. Stronger this time. Overwhelming for the few seconds it took him to get himself in check.

  There were no guarantees here.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Detective Bentley said that if Mark took Jackson out for the day, to places his mother had loved, then Jackson will at least be safe. That there’s no immediate reason to worry...”

  Standing beside Johnny in the Angel’s Food Bowls truck, Tabitha repeated that for at least the fifth time. She couldn’t help it.

  And Johnny, bless him, didn’t seem to mind.

  “I agree with him,” he said, also for the fourth or fifth time. And then, as she stepp
ed aside to give him room to pass, he walked right up to her and put his gloved hands on her arms. It was the first time he’d touched her since the night they’d kissed. “I’m serious, Tabitha. If I thought there was something we could be doing, anything, we’d be out there doing it.”

  “I know.” It had been her idea to open the truck. She’d been told by Detective Bentley to go about her day. To keep her phone on her person at all times, just in case, but to...go about her day. He’d also told her, multiple times, that Matt and Jason might really be Matt and Jason. He’d warned her not to do anything foolish.

  Johnny had offered to drive her around to every flower shop, every ice cream store, between San Diego and Mission Viejo. A sweet gesture, but not a practical one. If Mark saw her and ran... She couldn’t risk it. Not when they were this close.

  “At least Detective Bentley agreed to put in a call to the San Diego police to see about a request for a DNA warrant on Jason.”

  When she’d asked, based on the slowly building circumstantial evidence with the new revelation of Mark’s mother and Matt’s wife dying of the same disease on the same day, he’d said he’d try. She couldn’t tell if he’d sounded hopeful or was only humoring her. And she didn’t really care as long a judge got a look at the request.

  Johnny had written the affidavit; he’d said all the areas of probable cause were mentioned.

  He’d emailed the completed document to Detective Bentley before they’d left the hotel room.

  After nine months of nothing, things were happening. Shaking with the wonder of it all, and with fear that any one of a million things could go wrong, she raised her hands to Johnny’s shoulders. Held on. “Mark might figure out that he’s being followed. He might run if the police approach him. Jackson could get hurt.”

  “Positive thoughts, Tabitha,” he reminded her. Then bent his head to kiss her.

  Tabitha didn’t even think about resisting. She wasn’t thinking about sex, either. She just knew that Johnny made her feel better than she’d felt in a very, very long time. So she clung to him.

  * * *

  As the day progressed, Johnny prepared bowls. More than a hundred of them. He listened to Tabitha make conversation with people, heard her be considerate, understanding, reassuring and grateful to their customers. How she remained patient he wasn’t sure, but suspected that inside she was falling apart.