The Baby Pursuit

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The Baby Pursuit Page 3

by Laurie Paige


  Or was she overreacting to the situation? Her emotions had been on a seesaw since the disappearance.

  The unfamiliar sense of helplessness, of being jerked around at the whim of someone who wanted to harm her family, swept over her. She turned instinctively to Dev, wanting the succor of his warmth around her once more. She paused when Matthew sighed, then clenched his hand into a fist.

  “Someone called,” he said. “I was in the doctor’s lounge at the hospital. She said the baby was fine and that she was taking good care of him. Then she hung up.”

  “Oh, my God,” Vanessa whispered. “We didn’t think of putting a tap on that line.”

  “Did you recognize the voice?” Dev demanded. “If you have any idea at all, speak up. Nothing and no one is too vague to be discounted.”

  Matthew shook his head. “The voice was a whisper. I could barely hear her—”

  “How do you know it was a woman?” Dev asked.

  Vanessa found herself staring at Matthew with the same intent look that Dev turned on him. She saw surprise, then doubt, rush through her brother’s eyes.

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I just thought…it seemed to me…” He shook his head. “It could have been a man.”

  “No,” Dev said. “A person’s instincts are usually right. Something tipped you off, something too subtle to be recalled consciously.”

  Matthew continued to look troubled. “Instincts have been wrong before.”

  “So has reasoning,” Dev said dryly.

  Vanessa gazed from one man to the other. “We know one female who wants to hurt us.” She didn’t say the name aloud.

  “That bitch,” Matthew said, echoing her feelings.

  “If you’re thinking of your stepmother Sophia,” Dev said, “why would she want to reassure you about the child?”

  “So we would pay the ransom,” Vanessa told him. “If Bryan is…” She couldn’t say it.

  “Dead,” Matthew said hoarsely. “If he’s dead.”

  “But he’s not,” Vanessa said quickly, unable to stand his agony. “That’s why they’re keeping us waiting. They think we’ll pay more if they string us along so we’ll be more anxious.”

  “Would you?”

  Vanessa frowned as Dev prodded and questioned, casting doubts on their reasoning. She and Matthew had discussed the case a thousand times. “My father will pay whatever it takes.”

  “Other than the original note for fifty million dollars and the one call, you’ve heard nothing?”

  “That’s right,” Matthew answered.

  “Where were you when the alleged kidnapping took place?” he asked Matthew.

  Vanessa couldn’t believe the implication behind the question. “Matthew didn’t take his own child,” she declared hotly.

  Dev continued to watch Matthew with his impassive gaze.

  “I was… After the christening, I stayed close to my wife. We were outside—”

  “You were near the fountain,” Vanessa added. “You and Holden were talking. Claudia and Lucinda were close by.”

  The blue gaze swung to her. “Where were you?”

  “I was on my way into the house and saw Maria standing under the trellis. I stopped and welcomed her back. We talked for several minutes. She seemed embarrassed at seeing me. She wouldn’t look at me. I think she was worried about facing her mother after leaving the way she did and staying gone so long.”

  Matthew frowned, his gaze on the middle distance. “I remember now. We christened Bryan with water from the fountain. Rosita said the spring that feeds the fountain is the life source of the Fortune clan—”

  Vanessa stepped forward and laid a comforting hand on her brother’s arm when he stopped abruptly.

  “I think I could kill whoever did this with my bare hands,” he said after a few seconds.

  Vanessa had never seen her brother’s eyes so filled with murderous intent. While her other brothers, Zane and Dallas, had often threatened bodily harm to her and her twin Victoria, who had tormented them about their dates, Matthew had always been the quieter brother, the kinder, gentler one, while they were growing up. He had comforted her and her sister when their mother had died, although he had been seventeen at the time, only five years older than the girls.

  She was also aware that Devin Kincaid took in every word, every nuance of emotion that was taking place. For a second she resented his cool detachment. But he had a job to do, and she understood that. She wanted to help him.

  “I have the guest list from the christening,” she told him, adopting his business-like manner. “Do you want it?”

  “Sheriff Grayhawk gave me a copy. He also gave me a list of everyone who works here at the house. I want to talk to those people first. Do you know who was on the premises?”

  “Yes. With so many guests, everyone worked that day.”

  Dev nodded, then dismissed Matthew. “You’ll leave numbers where you can be reached at all times?”

  Matthew handed over his card after scribbling his cell phone and hospital numbers on the back. After he left the room, Vanessa went to her desk. She picked up the list she had been working on earlier.

  “I want to know where everyone that you noticed was around the time of the kidnapping,” Dev said.

  “I’ve already done that.” At his glance, she smiled grimly. “I do know something about criminal investigations.”

  “Huh,” was his succinct comment.

  He obviously didn’t take her seriously. She stifled the urge to argue with him about it. He would, given time, she vowed. Devin Kincaid, tough FBI agent, would take her very seriously before they were through with each other.

  “Let’s go over your lists,” he said, his tone patient, polite. Sergeant Joe Friday, on the job.

  Cruz Perez was angry. Vanessa could identify with the feeling. She wasn’t very happy, either.

  “Who the hell does he think he is?” he demanded.

  “The FBI,” she snapped, in no mood to put up with his temper as well as her own irritation at being excluded from the questioning. Dev had set up office in her father’s study and allowed no one in while he questioned witnesses. She had been relegated to the role of gofer as he finished with one person and wanted the next brought to him. She had no idea what questions he asked that took so long with each person. And no one would tell her.

  “That’s my mother in there,” Cruz snarled. Cruz was the horse trainer at the ranch. His mother was the housekeeper.

  As if she didn’t know. Personally Vanessa had been shocked when Dev had handed her the list of people he wanted to question when he’d arrived back at the ranch first thing that morning. She’d also been miffed that he hadn’t taken advantage of their offer of a room. Surely that would have speeded things along.

  “If he thinks he can connect her or anyone in my family to the kidnapping, he can think again.”

  Cruz glared at her, his dark good looks dangerous and exciting as his anger erupted. However, since she had known him all her life—he was four years her senior—she wasn’t at all worried or impressed.

  “No one thinks that—”

  The door opened. “Thank you, Mrs. Perez,” Dev said in his even tone. His gaze went from the housekeeper, who had been on the ranch since before Vanessa was born, to slide over Vanessa and on to Cruz.

  “I’ll send lunch in,” Rosita promised warmly.

  “That would be kind of you.” Dev spoke to Cruz. “Cruz Perez? Please come in. Thank you for coming.”

  The door closed in Vanessa’s face. For the fourth time that morning.

  Dev had first talked to her father at length and without her presence, then Ruben Perez, Rosita’s husband and the ranch foreman, then Rosita, and now Cruz. She was nearing the screaming point—

  “Come,” Rosita said, her dark eyes filling with amusement. “He wants to have lunch with you.”

  Vanessa’s chin dropped in surprise. “He does?”

  “You know he does,” Rosita said wisely.


  She led the way to the kitchen where two women busied themselves between the huge stove and wall of double ovens. The smell of baking bread filled the air as usual on Friday morning. By Monday, the fresh loaves would be gone and new ones would be baked to get them through the week.

  The kitchen had been the twins’ favorite place after the death of their mother. Rosita had taught them to cook everything from crown roast to homemade tortillas. She had also taught them that grief could be bearable when shared.

  “Whole or half?” Rosita asked, referring to the loaf of bread she was slicing.

  “Half,” Vanessa said.

  While Rosita prepared a whole sandwich for Dev and a half one for her, Vanessa arranged their dishes on a tray, including the salads and cups of tortilla soup for each of them. She wasn’t sure if she should allow herself to be mollified at being included during lunch or if she should give him the silent treatment for not letting her take part in the questioning.

  She sighed heavily.

  Rosita poured tall glasses of iced tea. “Next time you have hot tea, I will read the leaves for you.”

  “Do you think you’ll see anything?” As a child, Vanessa had always wanted to know the future.

  The housekeeper had finally told her she was a very mysterious person and nothing could be seen in her future, except that it would be fun and filled with adventure.

  But that had been Victoria’s future. Her twin, a pediatric nurse, was the one off on an adventure, teaching health and helping children on some tiny island republic off the coast of South America. Vanessa liked things closer to home.

  Carefully carrying the tray back to the study, Vanessa had a sudden yearning to see her twin and confide all the hopes and misgivings of her heart. Only Victoria would understand completely…

  “Come in,” Dev called when she tapped the door with the toe of her shoe.

  “I can’t open the door,” she muttered, and heard the note of complaint in her tone. Right. How to win friends and influence your enemies: be a grouch.

  The heavy portal opened. She entered the study. “Clear the desk,” she ordered.

  He stacked his papers neatly to one side. She balanced the tray on the corner of the desk and spread the feast on the open space. She pulled the chair to the side and took her place. Dev took his position behind the desk.

  “You look quite at home there,” she told him. “My father might get jealous. The lord of the manor used to sit there and dole out justice to my brothers and us.”

  “Us?” he said.

  “Victoria and myself.”

  “You were always a pair?”

  “Of course. We were twins. What one did, the other did, too.” She grinned. “We thought we had it all worked out when we decided that one of us should study for the biology test and the other for English finals when we entered high school. Since we had been assigned to different classes, we thought we could simply swap and each take the same test twice.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yes.” She grimaced. “But about halfway through our freshman year, the English teacher caught on when someone spilled milk on Victoria. My dress was dry when I went in to take the test right after lunch. My dad grounded us for the entire semester after that.”

  “Tough,” he said. He even looked sympathetic as well as amused. He took a bite out of his sandwich.

  Vanessa ate, too, aware of the quiet that surrounded them. Her father was in town, probably visiting Lily. Matthew and Claudia had moved out of their house in town and back to the ranch to escape the prying eyes of the paparazzi who had hounded them since the kidnapping. There was still speculation on prime time news about the situation. The couple had taken up residence in the wing formerly occupied by Uncle Cameron’s family before he and Aunt Mary Ellen had built their own house.

  “Why isn’t Savannah Clark’s name on the list?” Dev asked, breaking into her musings.

  “I forgot about her,” Vanessa admitted. “She wasn’t on the guest list for the christening since I had invited her down to visit with me for the week.”

  “Did she date any of your brothers?”

  “Heavens, no. She and I were roommates in college. She didn’t know my family before then. I wouldn’t wish my brothers on any unsuspecting female.”

  He didn’t seem to see the humor in her statement. His thick black brows drew closer over the beautiful summery blue of his eyes.

  “She’s a teacher in Dallas?”

  Vanessa paused before answering. “Yes. How did you know that?” She reached for the list.

  He moved it out of her grasp.

  “Tell me about that day. Start right after the christening and tell me everyone you spoke with and where you were at the time. Picture it in your mind.”

  “Perhaps you’d like me to use self-hypnosis and regression?” she suggested, annoyed at his excluding her from his confidence, especially when she had already told him all she could remember at least three times.

  “Just what you recall will be fine.” He pulled a legal pad toward him.

  He was being very distant and crisp with her this morning. It was a denial of the attraction between them and the magic of those moments in her bedroom.

  “How did you know about Savannah?” she asked.

  “The sheriff filled me in.”

  It was foolish to feel personally rejected, but she did. She knew this was an investigation. He was doing his job. Still, he could have told her what he had in mind.

  The terrible despair she’d felt upon realizing the baby was really gone fell upon her. Her eyes ached with unshed tears. She took a steadying breath.

  “Savannah and I stood directly behind my father and Lily…Lily Redgrove Cassidy. I forgot to put her down, too. She’s Dad’s fiancée.”

  “When his divorce from his present wife—Sophia—is final,” Dev reminded her, his tone without inflection. He tugged his tie loose, then tossed it to the chair that held his jacket.

  “Sometimes I wish Sophia would choke on a chicken bone.”

  Her comment brought a flicker of emotion to his eyes. It wasn’t fair for a man to have eyes like that, Vanessa thought, eyes so beautiful they made a woman melt whenever he looked her way—even when he was frowning rather ominously, as he was at her right now.

  “Just kidding,” she added.

  “I wouldn’t,” he said without a smidgen of a smile. “Things sometimes have a way of coming true, and then you’re sorry for your evil thoughts.”

  “Were you?” she asked with sudden insight.

  “What?”

  “Sorry when what you wished came true.”

  His face hardened into a mask. “No.”

  “What was it?”

  “I wished my father would die.”

  “And he did?”

  “Coming home drunk one night, he ran into a truck. I’d wished for it a hundred times.”

  “Did he hit you and your mother?”

  His hesitation was noticeable. “Yes.”

  She understood the darkness in him now. “It wasn’t your fault. Your mother was the adult. It was her job to protect you, not the other way around. She chose to stay instead of leaving your father.”

  “That’s easier said than done.”

  “I didn’t say it was easy, only that she made a choice each time she could have left and didn’t.”

  The muscles tightened in his jaw, but he didn’t say anything else.

  “You won’t always close me out,” she vowed.

  “Don’t confuse me with one of your psychology projects,” he advised. “My life isn’t open for study.”

  “I don’t have to study it. I know all about you. From the moment we met. Just as you know me.”

  She could feel the closing down and shutting out as he gazed at her without speaking. It hurt. She looked away, suddenly unsure of herself.

  “I know you as the pampered darling of a very rich father,” he said calmly. “You’re spoiled, impatient and probably think you were pu
t on earth to tell everyone how to live.”

  “That’s right. My twin thinks it’s her calling to save the world. I tell people how to save themselves. We’re a good team, don’t you think?” Her tone challenged him to disagree with her.

  He shrugged.

  She finished her lunch, her eyes ever drawn to him. He glanced at her occasionally, noting her steady perusal, but obviously didn’t let it bother him. He looked over his papers while he ate.

  “Let’s go for a ride,” she suggested, overcome with a need to do something. She stacked dishes on the tray.

  He stopped her from taking his soup. “I’d like to finish, if you don’t mind. Besides, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Being outdoors clears the cobwebs. It helps a person think. There’s a trail along the creek that’s perfect.” She eyed his brawny physique. “Between Dad and Matthew, we should be able to outfit you. Since you’re too stubborn to bring your things out here and stay in your room.”

  He leaned back in the chair. “This may come as a shock to your delicate system, but not every person is born with a silver saddle in the stable, so to speak. I’ve never ridden a horse in my life.”

  Heat slid up her neck. Her face grew hot. “That was terribly rude of me,” she apologized. “I did assume… Wouldn’t you like to learn?”

  “I see no reason for it.”

  “So we can share all the things we like,” she said, taking her most reasonable tone with him. “I want to show you all my favorite places, the hideaways where Victoria and I played—”

  “Hideaways? Where?” he interrupted.

  “Along the creek. There’s a bluff where there’s an overhang. We used to pretend we were Indians and try to track animals through the woods. Cruz was really good at it. He could follow deer and rabbits fairly easily. Once he led us to a bobcat. My brother Dallas and my cousin Logan were with us. You should have seen us scatter when the cat snarled.”

  “Interesting.” Dev picked up the list of suspects, or whatever he called it, and made some notes. “Was he ever jealous of your brothers?”

  “Cruz? Why should he be?”

  “He’s the son of a hired hand. Your brothers were the landed gentry. It would be a natural thing, especially since he seems drawn to the land.”

 

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