On the twenty-minute drive to the upscale Alamo Heights neighborhood, Garrett had considered calling his brother and asking for help, but he'd decided that might only complicate things. Even Brayden wouldn't be able to get a search warrant because the evidence was tainted. Darnell's adoption files had been illegally obtained and were therefore inadmissible in court, making them worthless for getting a warrant.
But those files had led them to the one person who could and would help them.
One way or another.
Garrett could almost feel the seconds ticking away, and he knew they didn't have time to waste. "Stay behind me," he said to Lexie as they got out of the car.
Of course, she fell in step beside him. "What are we going to do?"
Garrett huffed, pushed her behind him and glared at her so she'd stay at least partially protected. "I'm going to do what I do best."
It would cost him his badge. Maybe even earn him some serious jail time. He didn't care.
Garrett went onto the porch, drew back his size twelve Lucchese snakeskin boot and bashed it against the door. As expected, the wood splintered. He had that kick down pat. It only took a ram with his shoulder to bring the door off its hinges. When they'd slipped inside, he shoved it back in place so as not to alert the neighbors. Hopefully, no one was paying attention to the noise he'd already made.
Garrett heard footsteps and aimed his weapon at the man who came running down the stairs and into the foyer.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Irving Kent yelled.
Keeping a firm grip on his gun with one hand, Garrett seized Kent's shoulder with the other and slammed him against the wall, face-first. Paintings rattled. One fell, crashing onto the hardwood floor.
"Have you lost your mind?" Kent demanded, then used some vicious profanity to convey his anger.
"Pretty much. And if I were you, that'd concern me a lot." Garrett heard his own voice. Didn't recognize it. He was way too calm on the outside. Inside, there was a fierce storm brewing, and he intended to aim every bit of that dangerous energy at Irving Kent. "Because you see, I'm past the point of being desperate. And that means you're in very big trouble. Now, tell me where you're holding the Dearman baby."
Bunching up his forehead in a scowl, the lawyer tried to look over his shoulder, but Garrett held him firmly in place. "Who?"
Garrett nearly punched him, but then realized this slime had probably handled hundreds of these adoptions. He likely wouldn't remember one name. "The Dearman baby is an infant girl," Garrett explained. "She was born nearly four weeks ago at the Brighton Birthing Center."
Kent shook his head. "So? Do you think I care about some kid born there?"
Lexie nearly punched Kent. With her fist ready, she came flying across the foyer, and Garrett had to use his forearm to keep her from slugging the guy. He didn't want Kent unconscious, and Lexie could incapacitate him.
Since this situation could obviously get even more out of hand, Garrett went for the direct approach. "The Dearman baby is our child. She was taken illegally right after Lexie gave birth, and I want to know where she is."
Kent glanced at him as if Garrett's ears were on backward. "I don't have that kind of information."
"For your sake, you'd better have it," Garrett warned through clenched teeth. "Let me refresh your memory. The child is scheduled to leave the country, probably sometime tonight or tomorrow."
And so he could look Kent right in the eye to gauge his reaction, Garrett spun him around, making sure he slammed the man's back against the wall. More pictures rattled. "If you don't tell me where she is, I'm going to start breaking your bones, one by one. It won't be pretty, and it'll hurt more than you can possibly imagine."
If that concerned Kent, he didn't show it. "You're a cop. You wouldn't do that."
"Oh, but I would." Garrett tossed his gun to Lexie so he'd have both hands free. He caught the collar of Kent's expensive suit and literally lifted him off the floor. "I'm not a do-gooder Boy Scout. I've got a mean, nasty edge that shows itself when someone I love is in danger. Guess what, I love my little girl, and you're the only thing standing in the way of my getting her back. Don't doubt this—I can and will break you, Kent."
To prove his point, Garrett bashed him into the wall. The lawyer said nothing. He was shaken up, but kept that defiant snarl on his mouth. So Garrett shoved him into the wall again, but this time put a forearm to Kent's throat.
"Where is she?" he demanded, adding pressure.
Kent swallowed hard and tried to maintain that badass expression, but Garrett was sure he could do badass better than the lawyer. "I want my daughter," he reiterated.
"Stop!" Kent gasped.
Garrett didn't let up. In fact, he added more pressure, his arm crushing Kent's throat.
"I didn't set up any of this. Darnell did," Kent confessed. "I just signed off on the papers. I had no idea Darnell was stealing the babies. I just figured he was buying off the mothers at the shelter and the home."
It was good information, if it was true, but it wasn't what Garrett wanted to hear. So when Kent didn't say anything more, he lifted his fist and aimed it at Kent's jaw. "Where. Is. My. Daughter?"
Oh, now there was fear, and it seemed as if he couldn't get out the explanation quickly enough. "If she's scheduled to be flown out within the next twenty-four hours, she's at a house near the airport. They won't take her out on a commercial airline. She'll be flown on a private jet through Canada and then to the Azores."
"What's the address of the house where they have her?" Lexie asked.
"It's 212 Skylark Lane."
Hearing the address kicked up Garrett's heart rate. And his hopes. "How many people are with her?"
"The nanny, of course. And probably at least two assistants."
"That's a nice word for armed guards." Garrett pulled back his arm and quickly searched Kent for any cell phone or communication device. He didn't find anything, so he shoved the lawyer into the foyer closet.
"If you're lying," Garrett told him, "I'll be back, and I'll hurt you so bad that you'll beg me to put you out of your misery. Understand?"
Kent nodded, his movements shaky and uncertain. "I didn't steal those babies."
"At this point, I don't care. But believe me, I will later." Garrett tied him up using Kent's own necktie and belt, trussing him like a turkey, and for good measure, Lexie and he shoved a marble umbrella stand and a heavy table in front of the door.
"You know where 212 Skylark Lane is?" Lexie asked as they hurried out the front door toward the car.
"I know the neighborhood," Garrett assured her. "We'll find it."
"Should we call your brother?"
"Not yet. Legally, his hands are tied. When we get to the house, we'll look around. If the baby's there, then we'll call him."
Lexie waited a moment. A long agonizing moment. "And if she's not there—what then?"
"She'll be there," Garrett insisted. He couldn't believe otherwise. They were too close now.
They got in the car and sped away. It was just past morning rush hour, so there weren't a lot of cars on the suburban street. Maybe something would finally go their way.
Lexie drummed her fingers, then fidgeted. "That was some good bluffing back there—threatening to break his bones," she commented. "It worked." Maybe it was small talk, or maybe she just had to say something. Anything.
"I wasn't bluffing." It wasn't small talk for Garrett. He wasn't the bluffing type. "That's the kind of cop I am. The kind of man I'm capable of being."
She considered that a moment. Nodded. "Good. The situation didn't call for a negotiator back there. That door had to be bashed in, and real threats were the only thing Kent would have responded to." She kissed his cheek. "Now, let's get our daughter."
* * *
WHEN THEY SPOTTED the house at 212 Skylark Lane, a million things were going through Lexie's head, but the foremost thought was that her daughter might be inside.
Lexie might be within minutes of
holding her.
Mercy. She'd begged and prayed for this, and it suddenly seemed within her grasp.
Unfortunately, the situation wasn't without risks. Huge ones. First, there could be any number of gunmen inside. If the situation got out of control, shots could be fired. Their baby could be in danger. Garrett and she would have to do everything within their power to make sure that didn't happen.
"Stay as quiet as you can," Garrett instructed. "I'd rather surprise them."
"I'd rather throttle them," Lexie whispered. She put her hand in her jacket pocket and curved her fingers around the gun, so she'd be ready.
"Let's hope throttling won't be necessary."
It was midmorning, but the sidewalks were clear. No joggers. No one walking a dog. It was a blessing. Their best bet was to sneak into the house undetected.
They crossed the side yard, staying behind a row of shrubs, and then went to the gate that led to the backyard. It was locked. That didn't stop them. Garrett climbed over and unlocked it from his side so she could enter.
He put his finger to his lips to caution her to silence, and they approached the nearest window. It was covered with plantation blinds, but Lexie could see through the sliver of space on the side that the room was dark and empty.
"Nothing," she relayed in a whisper to Garrett.
Crouching down, they moved across the porch to a trio of windows. Garrett slipped ahead of her and flattened his back against the wall. He inched forward. So did Lexie. And then he stopped. She felt every muscle in his arm tense.
Lexie came up on tiptoe to look over his shoulder. Unlike the other room, this one was bright. There were fluffy white clouds and butterflies painted on the pale blue walls.
The room was also occupied.
There was a woman. Probably the nanny. She was tall, stocky. Formidable looking. But she wasn't nearly as formidable as the two men. Both were armed with shoulder holsters complete with semiautomatics. They were both frantically cramming things into a suitcase.
Baby things.
Clothes, bottles and even a little pink stuffed bear.
"Kent might have gotten loose and alerted them," Garrett whispered. "Or maybe this is just their scheduled time to leave."
Lexie heard him, but didn't really hear him. She had her attention focused on the baby.
Or rather the absence of a baby.
She could see a cradle in the center of the room—empty except for some pink bedding. Their daughter was nowhere in sight.
Lexie wanted to move to the next window to see if there was another bassinet or baby carrier, but the risk was too great. So she waited until the woman and the two gunmen left the room.
Then, frantically, she scanned the space, moving from one window to the next. Nothing.
"Get down," Garrett warned, and he dragged her out of view just as the trio returned.
Staying out of sight himself, he took out his phone and called for backup. Unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to wait for outside help. One of the men was closing the suitcase and hoisting it. He turned and walked out.
"He's probably going to the garage," Lexie said. "We can't let them get away."
"They won't."
The other man motioned for the woman to follow, and she reached down to retrieve something from the floor. It was a baby in an infant carrier.
Garrett and Lexie's baby.
Oh, heavens. Lexie had thought she was prepared for this moment, but she wasn't. Every part of her screamed to reach out and grab her child.
"I have to create a diversion," Garrett said. "I can't let them leave. We might lose them."
She nodded. She didn't like that "diversion" part, but knew they couldn't risk having those three people leave with their daughter. The airport was only minutes away.
"Don't do anything dangerous," she cautioned him, though both knew it was a useless warning. He would no doubt have to do something incredibly dangerous to get their child.
"You stay here. I'll try to keep the guards occupied until backup arrives."
With her heart in her throat, Lexie watched him disappear around the corner of the house. To put it mildly, she didn't have a good feeling about this, and part of her feared it would be the last time she would ever see him.
Because Garrett would die for them if necessary.
In some ways that was comforting, but it was mostly terrifying. She didn't want to lose him or their child.
She waited. Praying. Moments later, she heard the doorbell ring.
The doorbell!
She hoped Garrett wasn't about to launch into a gunfight with these men. No. He wouldn't do that. But he might try to win this battle with his fists. Not that she didn't trust his fists; she did. But he was outnumbered and outgunned.
The guard who remained in the kitchen said something to the nanny, and the woman carefully placed the carrier seat on the floor. The guard drew his weapon and made his way out of the room.
The doorbell rang again, followed by a heavy-handed knock.
The sound must have alerted the other guard, because he crossed back through the kitchen. No suitcase. He'd likely already put it in the car. But he was armed. He followed the other man toward the door.
Lexie debated what to do next, but the debate came to a quick halt when she saw the woman pick up the carrier. She and the baby were headed for the garage.
That was Lexie's cue to do something—fast.
Running, she went in the opposite direction from Garrett, made her way through the yard and to the side of the garage. Another gate. Locked. When she couldn't undo the latch, she climbed the fence and, as quietly as possible, dropped to the other side. She waited a moment to make sure the guards hadn't detected her, but they apparently hadn't.
There were voices—loud voices, shouts—all coming from the front. She saw Garrett sprint by, and moments later, both men in pursuit.
Lexie was terrified that he'd be shot, but the sound she heard was just as terrifying: the garage door opening.
Lexie broke into a sprint. Clutching her gun, she turned the corner to see the nanny putting the baby into the car seat. The woman was hurrying and didn't appear to be waiting for her comrades. She had keys in her hand.
She was obviously trying to leave with the baby.
"Stop!" Lexie cried.
The woman spun toward her, and that's when Lexie noticed the tiny silver handgun. A girl's gun, some people called it, but Lexie knew it was just as deadly as its higher caliber counterparts.
"That's my baby," she explained, nodding toward the child. "Dr. Darnell stole her from me."
If the woman had even a shred of sympathy, she didn't show it. "You'll have to work that out with Dr. Darnell."
"He's dead." And judging from the woman's expression, she knew that. "I'll work things out with you. Step away from the car."
The woman didn't hesitate, nor did she step away. Instead, she made the biggest mistake of her life. She aimed that little silver gun at the baby.
The fear hit Lexie first, raw and primal. But rage immediately followed. She was not going to let this woman hurt her daughter.
Lexie wasn't sure what happened. Something clicked in her head, memories flooded her brain and she charged at the woman. But she didn't tackle her. Instead, Lexie angled her body, kicked—higher than she could have imagined she could—and the little gun went flying out of the woman's hands. Lexie might have stopped there and reached for the baby if the nanny hadn't come at her.
Garrett had been right about her martial arts training. Lexie realized very quickly that she had the power to pound the woman into the floor. So that's what she did. She smashed the heel of her hand into the woman's chin, throwing her off balance. But Lexie wasn't taking any chances. She hooked her foot around the woman's knees and knocked her down.
Lexie glanced at the baby to make sure she was okay. The infant was sleeping peacefully in the car seat—unlike the nanny, who was now howling with pain. Lexie figured it wouldn't be long before her comra
des came running to see what was wrong.
Trying to work fast, Lexie snatched up the car keys the woman had dropped on the ground. She used the keypad to open the trunk, and began dragging her toward it. Locking her in the trunk wasn't an ideal solution, because she could still yell for the guards, but it would keep her contained until backup arrived. And it would free Lexie to help Garrett with those two thugs.
The woman fought her and, in fact, tried to punch Lexie. Weary of the fight and anxious to get to her child, Lexie drew back her elbow and slugged her in the jaw. It worked. Well, sort of. Lexie had to do some pulling and tugging to get the now unconscious woman into the trunk. And she had to do that while keeping a grip on her gun in case the guards returned from Garrett's diversion. By the time she had the nanny inside and had slammed the trunk, Lexie was out of breath.
She forced herself to get moving, and fortunately, she had the ultimate motivation—her baby. Lexie scrambled toward the car, got in and started the engine. She reached back and touched her daughter's cheek. She couldn't help it. Though the baby didn't open her eyes, she lifted the corner of her mouth.
A smile.
Lexie felt that smile spread throughout her entire body. It was nothing short of a miracle.
She couldn't dwell on that miracle, though. There wasn't time. She needed to find Garrett and get out of there. They could use the car to get away, and maybe the backup officers could catch the guards.
But where was Garrett?
She was on the verge of backing out of the garage when she realized that probably wasn't a smart thing to do. If the gunmen saw her, they'd likely start shooting. That would put the baby in danger. First, she needed to find Garrett.
Lexie turned off the engine so there wouldn't be a buildup of carbon monoxide, and left the garage door open. With her gun gripped in both hands, she made her way back to the garage entrance. She listened first to make sure the nanny wasn't conscious and trying to get out of the trunk. All was quiet in that particular area. But not outside. She could hear footsteps.
Someone was running.
That sound was quickly followed by another.
The Cradle Files Page 13
