Wild Stallion

Home > Romance > Wild Stallion > Page 3
Wild Stallion Page 3

by Delores Fossen


  It was a simple question; and unlike many questions, Bailey actually knew the answer to this one, but she had to debate how much to tell him. She could just come clean about everything. That could cause him to gather up his soon-to-be adopted son and go deep into hiding, where he could keep the baby away from her.

  Bailey wouldn’t blame him for that.

  But she couldn’t risk Jackson leaving with the baby. She had to know the truth.

  “Four months ago, when those men stormed into the hospital and took everyone hostage, I was in recovery. I’d just had a C-section.” Bailey had to take a deep breath. She didn’t remember much about that afternoon, and what she did remember wasn’t good. Just blips on her mental radar. “I didn’t know at the time, but the gunmen wanted to kill me.”

  “Because they thought you could identify them,” he supplied. “I read about that.”

  She nodded. She’d read all about it, too—after the fact. “Apparently, the two gunmen tried to break into the hospital lab the day before, and they thought I’d seen them without their masks. I might have,” she admitted.

  “You don’t remember?” he questioned.

  “No. I was there for some pre-op tests, and my mind was on the baby I was going to have. But they didn’t know that. They thought I was a threat. So they found out who I was and made a bogus call for me to come to the hospital for a bogus appointment. But I was already at the hospital because my labor started early.”

  He checked the phone monitor again. “Why didn’t the gunmen just go into the recovery room after you?”

  Bailey heard the question, but she had to know what was going on. Jackson kept looking at the phone, but he was giving her no clues as to what was happening. “Where’s the intruder?”

  “Still at the rear of the property. My men are closing in on him. Now, back to the question. Why didn’t the gunmen go into recovery after you?”

  “Because someone hid me, and my baby. I don’t know the person who did that, but I think it might be one of the two women in those photos. Both of them worked at the hospital at the time of the hostage incident.”

  He made an impatient circling motion with his finger when she stopped. “Keep going.”

  “The woman told me she had to take my son because the gunmen might hurt him.” Bailey had to pause again when she relived those last moments with her baby. “She took him and disappeared. I’ve been looking for him ever since, but I think someone doesn’t want me to find him. There have been three attempts on my life.”

  Jackson made a sound of mild interest. “I read the gunmen are dead now, and the person who hired them is in prison.”

  She nodded. “But I’m pretty sure someone has continued to follow me. I don’t know if it has anything to do with my missing son, or if it’s just someone who wants to do a news story. Some of the former hostages have been hounded by reporters.”

  No sound of mild interest this time. He groaned, a deep rumbling in his throat, and cursed. “Still, someone tried to kill you, but you decided to come here anyway?”

  “Those attempts on my life have nothing to do with this visit.” She couldn’t say it fast enough. “It’s been days, weeks even, since anyone has followed me. That’s why it was time for this visit. I thought I should come here today….”

  “Say it,” Jackson demanded when she stopped.

  Bailey wasn’t sure she could. She’d searched for so long, and it was bittersweet to think she might be this close and still be so far away from having the life she’d planned.

  “I thought if I could see the child you’re adopting,” she whispered, “that I would know if he was—well—mine.”

  There it was. She’d just let him know that Caden James Malone could be the child who had been stolen from her.

  And in Jackson’s mind that meant she was the enemy.

  She’d read all about him. The ruthless business practices, the endless string of properties and businesses he’d acquired, often through hostile takeovers. His failed marriage in his early twenties to a woman who’d turned out to be a gold-digging opportunist. Rumors were, the sour relationship had embarrassed him and his family and had cost him millions. And it had also caused him to vow to stay single for the rest of his life.

  Obviously, that vow hadn’t extended to fatherhood.

  Bailey had poured over every article she could find, and it seemed as if, more than the money and his billion-dollar portfolio, the one thing Jackson Malone wanted most was children.

  Now he had one.

  And God knows what he would do to hang on to the baby.

  “Do you have any proof?” he asked. There was pure skepticism in his tone.

  “Some. I’ve researched all the adopted baby boys who were born in Texas on his birthday, and Caden is the only one I haven’t been able to exclude.”

  He gave her a flat look. “Who says your son was adopted? He could have been taken to another state, or across the border. His adoption could have been illegal. Or maybe there was no adoption at all.”

  Yes. And that possibility had caused her many sleepless nights. Not knowing what had happened was the worst.

  “I have my son’s DNA,” she continued. “I got it from the umbilical cord that had been saved after his delivery. The police kept that quiet so no one in the media would report it. They wanted to be able to use it when and if they found a baby matching my son’s description. But the police also gave me a copy of those test results, and I was hoping you’d let me compare that DNA to the baby you’re about to adopt.”

  His right eyebrow lifted, and he gave her a cold, hard stare to let her know that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  “It’s best for all of us if we know the truth,” Bailey said, still trying.

  “Really?” he challenged. “Here’s what I do know.” But a sound cut off whatever he’d been about to say.

  It was a loud bang.

  A gunshot.

  Jackson’s attention went straight to the phone, but he turned the screen so that she couldn’t see.

  “Because you came here today, you might have endangered my son,” he continued, with his gaze fastened to the screen. “If what you’ve told me is true, someone could still be trying to kill you. So why the hell would you want to involve an innocent child in all of this?”

  Her eyes burned, and Bailey tried to blink back the tears. She wasn’t quite successful. “Because I don’t think anyone is still trying to kill me. Besides, I had to know if he’s my son.”

  “And then what?” Jackson snapped. He glared at her.

  That was the hardest question of all, because she couldn’t just walk away until she’d learned the truth.

  She swallowed hard. Even if Caden was indeed her son, Jackson Malone wasn’t just going to let her claim him. He no doubt approached fatherhood like he did his business, and that meant she was in another fight for her life.

  “Caden’s adoption is legal,” Jackson concluded. “No one stole him from you. His birth mother is an unmarried college student from Austin who couldn’t raise him, so she contacted a private adoption agency after he was born.”

  That was info that Bailey hadn’t been able to uncover. But it didn’t mean it was true. Maybe it was a story concocted by the woman who’d stolen Bailey’s newborn.

  His phone buzzed, and Jackson glanced down at the screen. He pulled in a deep breath and used the device to make a call. “Well?” he said to the person who answered.

  Since this was likely about the intruder, Bailey tried to listen, but she couldn’t hear the explanation that Jackson was getting. She held her breath, waiting.

  “My men have the intruder,” Jackson relayed to her when he hung up.

  Relief flooded through her. “He’s alive?”

  “For the moment. He was wounded when he tried to run. That was the shot we heard.”

  But he was still alive. Bailey went to Jackson and caught onto his arm. “Have your men question him. Find out why he was here. You’ll learn that
he didn’t come here because of me. He’s probably a would-be kidnapper after the baby.”

  “The sheriff just arrived,” Jackson said, not addressing anything she said. He stared at the grip she had on his arm, and didn’t continue until Bailey drew back her hand. “And here’s what I’m offering. You have two choices. You can leave now and look elsewhere for your missing baby. That includes you never attempting to contact me or my son again.”

  Her relief over the intruder’s capture was short-lived. Bailey shook her head. “But don’t you want to know the truth?”

  Jackson shrugged. “I already know the truth, and Caden is not yours. He’s mine. Leave now, and someone on my staff will drive you back to San Antonio.”

  She couldn’t leave. She might be just a room away from her baby.

  “And if I refuse to leave?” Bailey challenged.

  Another shrug. “Simple. The sheriff will arrest you for trespassing and take you to jail. Your choice, Miss Hodges. Which will it be?”

  Chapter Three

  Jackson rarely bluffed, but that’s exactly what he was doing now.

  Part of him, the paternal part, wanted this woman as far away from Caden as possible. He didn’t want to believe a word she was saying. He wanted to dismiss those photos she carried around like emotional baggage.

  But he couldn’t.

  He wasn’t the type of man to live in denial.

  “Okay,” Bailey said. She nodded, drew in a long breath. “Have me arrested, but I’ll pay the fine, or whatever, and keep coming back. I’m not going away. I will learn the truth.”

  So his bluff had failed. She hadn’t backed down on her story. Still, that didn’t mean she was Caden’s birth mother. It didn’t mean anything other than she was a woman who didn’t give up easily.

  Well, she’d met her match, because he didn’t give up at all. Ever.

  He checked the phone to see the progress going on outside. His men still had the intruder pinned down, and he could see the sheriff and his deputies approaching the ski-masked man.

  Jackson wanted to be out there. He wanted to be the one who got answers from this SOB who had dared to break in to the estate. But he had to stay put. He certainly didn’t want to leave Bailey in the house with Caden. The first thing she would do is go look for the baby. She wouldn’t find him, but he didn’t want his staff to have to deal with containing her.

  In the distance, he could hear the siren of an approaching ambulance. It wouldn’t be long before the sheriff came inside to give him an update. By then, Jackson had to decide what to do about the brunette in front of him.

  “If this is some kind of scam,” he said to her, “I’ll destroy you.” Best to put that out there right up front. He might have toned down his ruthlessness, but he’d resort to a few old habits if this woman was out for money.

  “It’s no scam. I just want to know if he’s my son.”

  Jackson moved closer to her again, because he knew it made her nervous. The last time he’d gotten in her face, her bottom lip had trembled. He didn’t get any satisfaction at the idea of frightening her, but it might be the fastest way to get to the so-called truth that she claimed she wanted.

  He slid his gaze over her. All over her. And he mentally pulled back a little when he felt that punch of attraction again. Hell. Hadn’t his past taught him anything? He couldn’t live his life thinking below the belt.

  “Caden doesn’t look like you,” he pointed out.

  She touched her hand to her short, spiky hair. Yep, she was trembling all right. “This isn’t my natural color. I dyed it after the attempts on my life. I have black hair, like yours.”

  Like Caden’s.

  But he kept that to himself.

  “What color are his eyes?” she asked. Despite the trembling, she no longer seemed afraid. She seemed—well—hopeful.

  “Blue.”

  Similar to Bailey’s.

  But many people had blue eyes, he reminded himself. Not that shade though. When he’d first seen her eyes, he’d thought they were memorable. And they were. Because they were a close match to Caden’s.

  “Blue,” she repeated, smiling. The smile quickly faded though. “You said he was safe? Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” To prove it to himself, he used his phone to scan through the security cameras, and he zoomed in on the panic room. Caden was there, still asleep. His nanny, Tracy Collier, was holding him.

  “May I see him?” Bailey’s voice had so much breath in it that it hardly had any sound. Also, there was that hopefulness in it again.

  But Jackson didn’t show her the images on his screen, and he wouldn’t. Not until he’d done some investigating, and even then it might not happen.

  He used the phone to call Evan again, and, as expected, his business manager answered on the first ring.

  “Is everyone okay?” Evan immediately asked.

  Jackson settled for saying, “They caught the intruder.”

  “Yes. I was watching the security feed, but I’m on my way out to the estate now. I figured you might need some help.”

  “I do, as a matter of fact.” His gaze met Bailey’s, and he didn’t think it was his imagination that she was holding her breath. “I need you to get the contact info for Caden’s birth mother.”

  Evan didn’t answer for several moments. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  A lot of money had gone into that private adoption. Well over a million dollars. The attorney had said it was to expedite the process and to pay the birth mother’s expenses, both medical and the cost of her return to college. Jackson hoped that was all the money had been used for, and that it wasn’t part of some illegal process.

  “Anything else?” Evan asked.

  Jackson looked at Bailey again. “Yes. Get me a detailed report of the hostage incident at the maternity hospital. I want everything the cops have, including info on employees they might have suspected in the disappearance of Bailey Hodges’s newborn.”

  Evan made a sound of disapproval. “That sounds like a messy can of worms you’re opening, Jackson.”

  Yes, it was, but this particular can was already open, and the proof was standing in front of him.

  “I have the women’s names,” Bailey volunteered the moment he ended the call with Evan. “And I’ve ruled out everyone else who was on the maternity ward that afternoon. Well, hopefully. There’s always the possibility that the woman who took my son wasn’t on any official records. She could have come in with the gunmen.”

  And if that were true, then there’d be no way to trace her. That would mean no definitive answer for Bailey. That, in turn, meant she wouldn’t make a hasty exit out of his life. The fastest way to end this was to figure out what had happened to her son.

  “Give me the photos,” he instructed.

  She pulled the folded sheet of paper from her jeans and handed it to him. But not without touching him. Her fingers brushed his. She was still trembling.

  Hell.

  He didn’t want her fear and emotions—or his reaction to them—to have any part in this. He wanted a cool detachment between Bailey and himself while he helped her, and himself. But that zing of heat didn’t equal anything cool. Jackson was betting the detachment wouldn’t go far, either. And that meant he had to do something about it.

  Bailey jerked back her hand as if he’d scalded her, and she dodged his gaze when she spoke. “The first woman is Shannon Wright, an RN who was on the fourth floor of the hospital that day, but no one remembers seeing her after the gunmen arrived. She claims she hid.”

  It was possible Shannon Wright was telling the truth—hiding would be the logical thing to do—but Bailey was right to suspect her.

  “The second one is Robin Russo. She works in records in the administration section. The other floors of the hospital were evacuated after the gunmen arrived in the maternity ward, and someone saw Robin leave her office, but no one, including the police, actually saw her leave the building.”

&nb
sp; Jackson gave that some thought. “You have a motive for either of these women?”

  She shook her head. “Well, unless they got money from selling my baby to someone.”

  And that was something Jackson couldn’t rule out—yet—but he would.

  “What about your son’s father?” Jackson asked. “Maybe he’s the one who had your son taken?”

  Another headshake. “My baby’s father broke off things with me when I told him I was pregnant. He took a job in Europe, and I haven’t heard from him, other than an email to remind me that he wanted nothing to do with the child.”

  Jackson tried not to have any visible reaction to that, but her story only made him feel more sympathy for her. And empathy, because of his own bad relationship. He had to keep his distance from her, because empathy and attraction were a lethal combination.

  “If I find out you’re lying about any of this…” he reiterated.

  “I know. You’ll destroy me. And if I find out you knowingly stole my son, all your money and power won’t stop me from coming after you.”

  He almost smiled. Almost. Considering her predicament, she still had some fight in her.

  That wouldn’t mix well with the attraction, either.

  “The sheriff will come inside any minute,” he reminded her and himself. “If you’re here, he’ll want to know why. Are you prepared to answer his questions?”

  Jackson didn’t want her out of his sight, but he also didn’t want to risk her being underfoot. He would have her followed when she left, so he could keep tabs on her until he had more information about her and her missing child.

  “I’m prepared. Well, as prepared as I can be. The last time I was in protective custody, I was nearly killed.” She paused. “I suppose it could happen again. That’s the reason I’ve avoided the cops, but I’m too close to turn back now.”

  It was what he expected her to say. So he had to do whatever was necessary to speed up this process and get her out of his and Caden’s lives.

  “May I see Caden?” she asked.

  “No.” Jackson didn’t even have to think about it.

 

‹ Prev