The Cradle Files

by Delores Fossen

  There was a low sound, deep within her throat. A sad, mournful sound that he totally understood. They had a daughter. But she was missing. Or worse.

  Garrett refused to think about that worse.

  "I'll talk to Billy Avery," he promised. "If he's behind this, I'll find out, and I'll get him to tell me where he has her."

  "I'm not sure Avery had anything to with this." She pulled back slightly and faced him. "There have been no demands for my cooperation. If he had her taken as leverage so that I wouldn't testify against him if he's granted a new trial, then why hasn't he used her to try to blackmail me?"

  Garrett could think of a reason. Maybe Avery was keeping the child as an insurance policy. If so, Avery wouldn't do or say anything to threaten Lexie unless it became necessary. That meant her former boss would keep the baby alive, but Garrett couldn't stomach the idea of what kind of inadequate child care arrangements a man like Billy Avery would make. To him, the baby would be just a pawn.

  That required Garrett to take a deep breath.

  It was a little more than he could manage to think of a helpless baby—his baby—at the mercy of a convicted felon.

  "I think I should go to the Brighton Birthing Center," Lexie said. "I'm positive that's where I had her, and that's where she was stolen."

  Garrett was already shaking his head before she finished. "The last time you were there, someone tried to kill you with a drug overdose."

  Still, he knew she was right. A visit to the birthing center was a good idea. It just wasn't a good idea for Lexie to do the visiting.

  "I'll go there," he insisted. "Right after I talk with Billy Avery and after I've arranged protective custody for you."

  Lexie did some head shaking of her own. "I know the layout of the birthing center. I took a virtual tour on the Internet. And if I see the doctor, I'll recognize him. Plus just being there might jog some of these hidden memories."

  "It might jog some of the doctor's memories, too," Garrett reminded her. "And he might decide to finish the job he started."

  "If he's there, he won't recognize me if I go in disguise."

  Garrett considered that. And dismissed it. "It's too dangerous."

  "Doing nothing could be far more dangerous. We could go there together—discreetly. We could pretend we're there to ask questions about the facility itself. And we can possibly find our baby."

  "We could get killed," he countered.

  "True. But it's a chance we'll have to take, Garrett. You know it and I know it."

  Yes. And that was the bottom line. Despite his brother's warnings about not getting involved with Lexie, he had to, and if Garrett told Brayden about that involvement, it would only delay what had to be done. Brayden would insist on following at least a few of the rules and regs. They had to do whatever it took to find their baby. That meant going to the last place on earth he wanted Lexie to go—the Brighton Birthing Center.

  He checked his watch. It was already after midnight. That was well past normal visiting hours, so the visit would have to wait until morning. Besides, Lexie and he needed to come up with a disguise for her. And they needed to get some sleep so they'd have clear heads when they went into the lion's den.

  Oh, man.

  He immediately thought of a different kind of lion's den.

  Sleep meant they needed a place to lie down. They couldn't stay at his house. Much too risky. He wanted to keep this danger away from the family, too. Going to his parents or siblings might bring the danger right to their doorsteps. After all, those gunmen were still out there.

  So that left a safe house or a hotel. It would take hours, or longer, to arrange for the house. There was also an extremely high probability that Brayden would order Garrett not to stay with Lexie at either place. That couldn't happen. He needed to be with her so they could make plans for their visit to the clinic.

  Well, that and they had to come to terms with the fact they were parents of a missing baby girl.

  A hotel was their best bet. He could use an unmarked police car to get them there. He could take a circuitous route to make sure they weren't followed. He could pay cash so there'd be no credit card trail. In other words, he could make it as safe as possible. And, in the morning they could visit the Brighton Birthing Center.

  He only hoped all his security measures would keep Lexie alive.

  And even more, he hoped he could survive spending the night with her.

  * * *

  "TWO ROOMS WOULDN'T HAVE made sense," Garrett said as he used the key card to unlock the hotel room door.

  "I agree," Lexie told him. And she did. After what they'd been through, safety was one of their major concerns.

  Of course, the baby was at the top of the list.

  Somewhere on that list, perhaps a lot higher than either of them wanted, was the fact that they were about to share a hotel room. Alone. Together.

  In a king-size bed.

  There'd been no rooms with double beds available, and neither of them had been in the mood to go searching for one. It'd taken an hour of driving around the city just to make sure they hadn't been followed. It'd taken nearly a dozen calls to find a hotel that would take a cash deposit rather than a credit card. Then, it'd taken a trip to the ATM so Garrett would have the cash required. By then, neither of them had made a peep of protest about a single room with only one bed.

  Lexie reminded herself that they were both exhausted, and they had to get some sleep so they could wake up early and work out the details of their visit to the birthing center. Plus, there was the doctor's suggestion that she refrain from having sex. So there it was. All spelled out for her. Not that she was even considering sex. No, she'd need energy for that. And a cooperating partner.

  She was willing to bet that Garrett didn't fall into that cooperating partner category. She certainly didn't. But there did seem to be this weird involuntary energy simmering between them. Lexie had no trouble understanding how that energy had led them to where they were now.

  Parents.

  "I'll make some calls in the morning," Garrett explained once they were inside. "I'll get something we can use to disguise you. We'll work out what we're going to say. After we're back from the center, I'll figure out how I can legally get into the prison to have a chat with Billy Avery."

  He locked the door behind them, engaged the security hasp and then promptly moved a huge chair in front of the door to block it.

  "This is just a precaution," he added when he glanced at her.

  Only then did Lexie realize that she probably looked scared. There was a good reason for that. She was scared. Not so much for her safety, but if something happened to Garrett and her that could leave their child in a horrible position.

  "My advice is when we get to the center," Garrett continued, "you let me do most of the talking."

  She started with a huff, but it quickly became a sigh of frustration. "I'm not an idiot, Garrett. I wouldn't say anything—"

  "Saying anything at all could be dangerous. Someone there might not recognize you in disguise, but they might recognize your voice."

  "Oh." She hadn't even considered that. Not good. Because it immediately made her wonder about all the other things she might not have considered. Still, it didn't matter. Going into this with broken memories and an exhausted body wasn't ideal, but it wouldn't stop her. Nothing would stop her.

  "I won't ask questions unless it's necessary," she assured him. She sat down on the foot of the bed, and her muscles practically cheered at the reprieve. "While you're doing all the talking, I'll just watch for a familiar face."

  Garrett stood looking down at her. "And if you see a familiar face, you won't tackle the person and try to karate kick the truth out of him or her?"

  For some strange reason that made her smile. Not a smile of amusement, but it was gratifying to think of her pulverizing the person responsible for all of this.

  Lexie's smile faded when her thoughts returned to her daughter. "I just want to find out where that
man took her, and someone at the clinic should be able to tell us that."

  "Yes," Garrett said. A moment later, he repeated it. He sank down onto the opposite side of the bed—as far away from her as he could possibly get and still remain on the mattress. "I've been thinking about that—where they might have taken her."

  So had Lexie. "If Billy Avery's behind this, then she could be anywhere." And that broke her heart.

  "But if Avery's people have her, she's safe. Avery would want to keep her safe and sound so he could use her for leverage."

  "Safe. But not necessarily all right." More thoughts came. Ones that Lexie had been trying to stave off, but this time, she wasn't successful. "She could be hungry. I don't know if they would bother to feed her when she needs a bottle. Or if they'd change her diaper—"

  "You can't do this, Lexie. It'll tear you apart."

  She turned her head and looked at him. One glance and she realized he knew what he was talking about. She could see the pain and the fear in his own eyes. Garrett, too, had all these shared concerns about their baby.

  And neither of them could do a thing about it.

  "Get some rest," he insisted. "You'll need it for tomorrow."

  Lexie was too weary to argue, even though they had so many details to work out. She crawled to the top of the bed, located a pillow. She didn't even pull back the cover, but simply draped the edge of the comforter over her. On the other side of the bed, Garrett did the same.

  Oh, and he turned away from her.

  Good move. Lexie only wished she'd thought of it first. She wasn't afraid of the attraction. The energy. It was there, but there was something else brewing. Something that frightened her even more than the lust. It was all this shared camaraderie.

  The parent connection.

  It was potent stuff, and it was creating a weird sort of intimacy between them. And that couldn't happen.

  She'd nearly ruined Garrett's life. Nearly cost him what he loved most. Lexie didn't need her memories to know she couldn't put him through that again. This time he was risking his career and his life to find their child. That was more than enough sacrificing for one man to make. No. There would be no sex. No intimacy. No emotional attachment. Because Garrett didn't want those things, and neither did she.

  At the end of her little mental lecture, she hoped she'd convinced herself.

  Nope.

  She tested the idea, and the attraction was still there.

  "We'll both need to be armed tomorrow. Carrying concealed, of course," she heard Garrett whisper, and she wondered if he was talking to her or to himself.

  "Sounds good."

  Garrett stayed quiet. The only sound in the room was his steady breathing and her pulse drumming in her ears.

  "Worst case scenario," he continued a moment later. He rolled over to face her. She didn't turn away. "If something goes wrong, we evade and escape."

  She nodded. Stared at him.

  Obviously uncomfortable, he stared back. Until his gaze drifted down a bit. She followed it and saw that her left breast had escaped her ill-fitting bra and was quite visible, since the neckline of her equally ill-fitting shirt had dipped off her shoulder. She quickly righted the problem.

  "Sorry," she mumbled.

  "Don't worry. I don't have the energy to react." But he immediately scrunched up his forehead. "Okay, there's no energy required for that type of reaction. I'm a man. That's all that's needed for a reaction." He mumbled some profanity. "But we aren't going there again, are we?"

  "No."

  Lexie tried to maintain eye contact, because it seemed the safest kind of visual exchange. But her gaze drifted down as well. No exposed chest for him. It was totally covered with a black T-shirt. But his arms were bare. No overly bulging muscles. Just toned and strong.

  Welcoming.

  But she wanted to pinch herself for allowing that last thought to pop into her head. However, she was right. His arms were welcoming. Heck, he was welcoming. Probably a by-product of that no-energy-required maleness. And it might have had something to do with this urge she had to move closer to him.

  For comfort, of course.

  "I know what you're thinking," he said, his voice a smoky drawl.

  She certainly hoped not.

  "Good thing the doctor said no sex," Garrett continued, obviously proving that he did indeed know what she was thinking. "And it's a good thing that we're exhausted. We need those kinds of obstacles, since we seem to be sort of mindless when it comes to each other."

  "Yes, mindless." That was the right word for it. "It's also stupid. We have so much on our plates right now."

  "Primal lust doesn't care about that. Lust just wants us to act like bunnies so we can continue the human race."

  "We've already done that," Lexie pointed out. "You'd think lust would be satisfied."

  "It might never be satisfied," he mumbled.

  In some ways, that sounded like a lifelong prison sentence. In other ways, it sounded like a challenge. "So, how do we counteract it?"

  The corner of his mouth hitched. "Cold showers. Huge beds where you stay on one side and I stay on the other. And finally, I won't think about your breasts, and you won't think about…whichever body part of mine arouses you."

  She laughed. She couldn't help it. Lexie didn't remember at lot about this Garrett O'Malley, but she was quickly learning to appreciate his direct approach. Unfortunately, that appreciation also reminded her of why she'd had sex with him in the first place.

  Which wasn't really a good thing to remember now.

  She grabbed an extra pillow and put it between them.

  "I forgot about physical barriers," Garrett told her. "That's a good way to counteract it. Pillows will make sure we don't bump into each other during the night."

  Since that sounded far more interesting than it should have, Lexie decided it was time to say goodnight. She turned so that her back was to him. "Sleep tight, Garrett."

  "Same to you." But he didn't fall asleep. "One more thing," he added. The smoke, heat and humor were gone from his voice. He was the cop now. "Tomorrow, we avoid confrontations that could lead to bullets flying. But it still might turn ugly. We might have to fight our way out of there. You understand that, don't you?"

  "I understand."

  It was abundantly clear. But even knowing she could be hurt, or worse, Lexie knew that wouldn't stop her.

  In just a few hours, one way or another, she was going to that clinic to find their baby.

  Chapter Eight

  Garrett hated to rely on hope and a prayer, but he was hoping and praying that Lexie's disguise was good enough to keep them from being killed.

  However, Lexie's newly tinted brunette hair and the heavy layer of makeup were at best a thin disguise. After all, no amount of makeup would hide her distinctive facial features, especially those unforgettable blue eyes. If the doctor or kidnapper were hanging around and got a look, their cover would likely be blown.

  Lexie and he had dressed for the part. Garrett hadn't given up his jeans, but the T-shirt was gone. In its place was a white shirt and black leather jacket. Though it was summer in Texas, the jacket was necessary so he could hide his shoulder holster and Glock.

  No jacket for Lexie. She was carrying her gun in her purse. Like him, though, she'd opted for jeans, but she'd discarded his shirt for a dressier one. It was blue, practically the same color as her eyes, and it fit her like a glove.

  With the receptionist leading the way, Lexie and he walked down the massive cream-tiled hallway that would supposedly take them to the clinic director's office. They passed lots of people along the way. Some were pregnant women, their significant others, and then there were the staff members, who all wore blue or pink scrubs and seemingly permanent smiles. Many sported sunshine-yellow badges with comments like We Love Babies! and Babies Are Our Business!

  Exclamation marks seemed to count on the badges, because each slogan had at least one.

  Lexie walked beside Garrett. Should
er to shoulder, holding his hand.

  That, too, was part of the disguise.

  They were playing the part of a loving couple in search of the perfect facility where they could have their first baby. If asked, Garrett would tell them that Lexie—or rather Erica, the fake name they'd chosen—was four months pregnant. And then he would ask lots of questions about doctors, the number of birthing rooms, etc. He'd do all of that while Lexie watched for the scumbags who'd taken their child and tried to kill her.

  He felt Lexie's hand tense and grip harder. Garrett glanced around the corridor to see what had prompted that action. It wasn't a person, but a photo. Or rather a series of photos that lined both sides of the walls. The photos were of babies. Lots and lots of babies.

  Garrett stared at her, wondering if she believed one of those photos to be of their daughter, but then he saw the mistiness in her eyes. Her reaction had probably been spurred by the god-awful thought that their baby wasn't in the photos. Because someone at this birthing center had stolen her.

  He gently squeezed Lexie's hand, hoping to convey that he was on the same page with her. The gesture seemed to surprise her. Her shoulders squared. A look of resoluteness replaced the mistiness, and she took her hand from his.

  All right.

  He was on the same page with her on that, as well. Distance was like a metaphorical pillow on a king-size bed. It wouldn't stop the intimacy from growing between them, but it would bring it to a temporary halt.

  Just ahead of them, the receptionist stopped and opened one of the doors. "Dr. Blake, John and Erica Madison are here to see you."

  "Show them in," a perky voice insisted. He could practically hear an exclamation point or two in it.

  With all that perkiness, Garrett had expected the doctor to be very young and look like a debutante cheerleader. But when Lexie and he went inside the office, they came face-to-face with a forty-something redhead whose smile didn't quite reach her ice-blue eyes.

  "I'm Dr. Linnay Blake," she said in greeting. She gestured for them to sit in the cream-colored leather chairs across from her desk. "I'm the director here at the Brighton Birthing Center. Welcome. I'd be glad to answer any of your questions." She glanced down at her notes. "Erica, I understand you're in your fourth month?"