The Forgiven

by Amanda Stevens

  Naomi walked over to the desk and flipped open the folder. Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly scanned the faxed pages.

  Beside her, Alex DeWitt said softly, “You founded the Children’s Rescue Network in Mississippi after your daughter, Sadie, was kidnapped ten years ago. You still work there as one of the directors and as their spokeswoman. Over the years you’ve appeared on a number of programs dealing with missing persons. One might even say you’re an expert on the subject. A lot of things make sense now.”

  She glanced up quickly. “Like what?”

  His gaze on her deepened. “I understand now why you’re doing this.”

  Naomi’s heart was pounding so hard she could barely speak. Alex DeWitt was such a commanding presence she had a hard time meeting his gaze, speaking to him at so close a range. She turned away from him, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts. Then, as it had earlier that day, her anger came to her rescue.

  She spun back toward him. “You think I’m doing this because of what happened to my daughter? To my other daughter? You’re wrong. My being here has nothing to do with Sadie. Not in the way you mean.”

  Something flickered in his green eyes, something that might have been pity if he were the type of man who seemed capable. “You’ve lost two children. I can’t imagine what that must be like. I don’t blame you for wanting to believe that one of your daughters is still alive.”

  “You can’t possibly know how I feel,” Naomi said, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

  One dark eyebrow arched slightly. “I’m a father, Miss Cross. I know how I would feel if I lost my daughter. I’d rather have my heart ripped out.”

  Naomi closed her eyes for a moment as the force of his words hit her. He didn’t know how she felt. No one did. But as a parent, he could imagine, and she heard in his voice that same sense of dread, a hint of the terror that was every parent’s nightmare. Maybe it had been pity she’d seen in his eyes, or something very close.

  “I don’t blame you for grasping at straws,” he said quietly.

  “That’s not what I’m doing.” She glanced down at the folder, wondering what else he’d learned about her since she’d left his office earlier. “Maybe I’d better explain to you how I came to find out about my...about Taryn.”

  A frown flickered across his brow, but he nodded. “That might be helpful.”

  She gestured toward the peach sofa in the sitting room. “Please sit down.”

  After waiting until she’d seated herself in one of the armchairs near the window, he sat down, gazing at her with icy green eyes.

  Naomi’s hands curved around the arched swans’ necks that formed the arms of her chair. She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from Alex DeWitt. He looked every inch the successful oil executive. His dark suit, the same one he’d been wearing earlier, was elegantly cut, his white shirt impeccable. His black hair, though mussed slightly from the rain, was cut in a style that was very flattering. She thought, as she had that afternoon, that he was a very handsome man. Mesmerizing, even, but cold.

  He cocked his head slightly. “You were going to explain how you happened to come and see me.”

  Naomi cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed at her lapse. “It’s just that I hardly know where to start.”

  “Perhaps on the night your daughter was born might be the best place.”

  “Daughters,” she corrected him. “Taryn was a twin.”

  Again something flickered in his eyes, this time a look of anger. “You gave birth to twin daughters that night. One of them was Sadie, the little girl who disappeared ten years ago.”

  “Yes.” My precious Sadie, Naomi thought with the same rush of emotion she always felt when her daughter’s name was mentioned. After all this time, the pain had never lessened. “There was a storm that night,” she said softly. “Two tornadoes ripped through Eden, destroying lives, homes.” She shuddered, remembering. “I was home alone when the storms hit. My mother and sister were away.”

  “And your babies’ father?”

  Her gaze on him faltered. “He left town when he learned I was pregnant.” Naomi stared down at her hands. “I went into labor three weeks early. The doctor had warned me that multiple births were risky, so I knew I had to get to the hospital. The phone lines were down. I couldn’t call for an ambulance so I drove myself. By the time I got to the hospital, I was...something had gone wrong. I was bleeding. But there were so many other people who had been hurt in the storm. The emergency room was in chaos.”

  “The last thing I remember as I was being wheeled to the delivery room was overhearing the nurses talk about another mother who was in labor. The nurses were worried because they couldn’t find her baby’s heartbeat.”

  His gaze on her darkened, but he said nothing.

  Naomi leaned toward him slightly. “Why was your wife in Eden, Mr. DeWitt?”

  “I told you. She was driving from New Orleans to Memphis.”

  “So far along in her pregnancy?”

  “Aubree could be...impulsive.”

  “Is it possible that...” Naomi trailed off, not quite knowing how to ask what she needed to know. “Is it possible she wasn’t alone? Could someone have been traveling with her?”

  “If someone was with her, she never told me.” Abruptly Alex DeWitt got up and strode to the window to stare out. After a moment, he opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony, as if the room had suddenly become too confining for him. Naomi didn’t know what else to do so she got up and followed him.

  They stood side by side at the railing. Not talking. Not looking at each other, just gazing off into the night. Dark clouds lingered over the city, like a curtain that couldn’t fully be lifted, and Naomi could smell the rain. She’d always loved the scent.

  After a while, she turned to Alex. “Do you want to hear the rest?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “If I said no?”

  She swallowed. “It’s up to you. But my mother always said that burying your head in the sand doesn’t change anything. It only prolongs the inevitable.”

  “Your mother was probably right,” he said with a bitter edge to his voice. “But nothing you say is going to change things, either. Taryn is my daughter.”

  She’s my daughter, too, Naomi wanted to argue, but instead she turned to stare down at the street. Colors glistened in the wet pavement, like a child’s finger painting. The kind a mother hangs on her refrigerator door, Naomi thought, as the ache inside her deepened.

  “You may as well tell me the rest,” he said grudgingly.

  “I don’t remember anything after I was wheeled into delivery,” she said, “but I was told later that I lost a great deal of blood that night. I went into shock. I guess I almost died. Two days later, when I finally came to, there was a moment when I wished I had.”

  Alex turned at that, his gaze meeting hers in the darkness. “You found out one of your babies had died.”

  She nodded, a lump rising in her throat. Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating his face for a moment so that she could see the intensity of his stare. Naomi shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle. “I blamed myself. If I’d gotten to the hospital sooner...if I’d taken better care of myself...if I’d had a husband...” She trailed off. “But no amount of self-recrimination was going to bring my baby back, and eventually I realized I was lucky to still have one healthy baby when so many others had lost everything that night.”

  “And the other woman? The other mother who was in labor?”

  “I never knew what happened to her. In fact, I’d forgotten all about her until recently. We were both moved to a different hospital after the second tornado hit. You can imagine the confusion that night.”

  His eyes told her he knew exactly what she was getting at. “Did you—” He broke off and stared up at the sky. “I don’t know how to put this without seeming insensitive—did you see your baby?”

  “Both of them, you mean?” She shook her head. “The town held a m
ass funeral at the high school for the tornado victims. There were so many of them. My baby...the baby that I was told was mine...was buried before I ever regained consciousness.” Naomi heard a muffled sound, like a dozen whispers, and then the rain came down again. For a moment, neither of them said anything, they just stood there watching the rain shower.

  Then Naomi felt his hand on her arm, and a deep shiver tingled through her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am.”

  “It was a bad time for me.” She moved away from him slightly, holding her hand out to catch the rain, as she and Abby had done as children. As Sadie had once done. As Taryn had undoubtedly done. “But I survived. And then five years later, when my other daughter was kidnapped, I managed to survive that, too. I’ve been through a lot, Mr. DeWitt. More than you can imagine. I’ve spent the last ten years looking for missing children, trying to offer comfort to their parents. The position at the Children’s Rescue Network has toughened me, made me learn how to fight.” She drew her hand back from the rain and turned to face him. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I do.”

  She nodded, as if they’d come to some kind of important agreement. “Just over a month ago, a little girl was kidnapped on the anniversary of Sadie’s abduction. She disappeared from the same school playground where Sadie was taken ten years earlier. I became involved in the case through my position at the CRN.”

  “But the second little girl...she was found unharmed.”

  “Yes. She was taken by a nurse who worked at the school. Her name was Willa Banks.” She glanced up at him. “Does her name ring a bell?”

  He frowned. “No. Should it?”

  “She used to work at Eden Memorial Hospital. She was on duty the night my babies were born. The night your wife also gave birth.”

  His expression hardened. Naomi could see the rigid line of his jaw even in the darkness. “And for some reason, you think she switched the babies. You think it was my baby who died.”

  Naomi nodded.

  He glanced away. “I don’t believe that. I won’t believe it.”

  “I know it’s difficult—”

  He turned back to her, his gaze bleak, unyielding. “Why would she do that? What earthly reason would this woman...this Willa Banks have for swapping those babies?”

  “Someone obviously persuaded her to.”

  “Persuaded her how?”

  Naomi shrugged. “Money? I don’t know. What I do know is that her guilt ate away at her for years. When Sadie was kidnapped, she couldn’t stand the thought that I’d lost both my children, and that she had been the cause of one of my losses. I guess her mind began to go, though no one knew it. Not until ten years later, when she saw another little girl on the same school playground and thought she was Sadie. She thought that by taking that little girl and returning her to me, she could make up for her part in swapping my baby.”

  Alex rubbed a hand across his chin. “This is the most bizarre story I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know,” Naomi said. “But it’s all true. Every word I’ve told you.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he asked coolly. “You’ve yet to give me one shred of proof. And I suspect that’s because there isn’t any. By your own account, this Willa Banks is...shall we say?...not of sound mind. Yet you seem all too willing to take her word for events that supposedly occurred fifteen years ago. You would have no objection, I take it, if I were to talk to this woman myself?”

  “I wouldn’t, except for one thing. She’s dead.”

  “That’s rather convenient, isn’t it?”

  Naomi said defensively, “I suppose it depends on your perspective. It would be more helpful to me if she were still alive because there are still too many unanswered questions. My baby was stolen from me. Someone came to the hospital that night and persuaded Willa Banks to take her. I’d give a lot to know who that person was.”

  “Assuming the story unfolded as this woman claimed it did.”

  “I believe it did,” Naomi said fiercely.

  “But you have no proof.”

  His condescending tone was even more infuriating. “I know it’s true,” Naomi said stubbornly.

  His tone, if possible, grew even colder. “What is it you want from me, Miss Cross? What is it you expect me to do with everything you’ve told me?”

  Naomi lifted her chin. “I want you to allow Taryn to have a DNA test.”

  He didn’t say a word, but the look on his face...the flash of rage in his eyes, sent a chill racing down Naomi’s spine. Had she made a terrible mistake in allowing Alex DeWitt into her hotel room?

  He moved toward her, so swiftly Naomi hardly had time to draw a breath. He reached out, grasping her forearms in his hands, and though he held her lightly, Naomi had no doubt that she was trapped. If she moved, he would tighten his grip. If she tried to get away, he would stop her.

  It might have been her imagination, but the rain seemed to fall harder as he held her, the steady downpour loud enough to drown out even a scream. Naomi was suddenly, painfully conscious of the pavement five stories below her.

  “Why would I do that?” he demanded angrily. “Why would I put her through that?”

  “She wouldn’t have to know—”

  “You want me to lie to her?”

  “I didn’t come here to make trouble for Taryn,” she said shakily, finding the courage to somehow meet his gaze. “That’s the last thing I want. But I have to know. Can’t you understand that?”

  “And then what?” His voice rose slightly over the rain. “Supposing I did agree to a DNA test, and supposing you found out that you gave birth to her. Do you really expect me to believe that would be enough for you? That you would disappear from our lives forever?”

  He released her then and turned toward the open French door. Glancing over his shoulder, he said darkly, “There will be no DNA test. Taryn is my daughter, and nothing you or anyone else can say or do will ever change that.”

  “I don’t want to take her away from you,” Naomi said, following him back into her suite. She watched as he strode toward the door. “I don’t want to hurt either one of you. I just want the truth.”

  His voice lowered menacingly as he paused with his hand on the knob. “You want a great deal more than that, or you never would have come to New Orleans.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Alex went around to see Foley again the next day. He’d managed to postpone his trip out to the offshore drilling sites until the following week, even though he knew he was going to catch flak from his superiors. But he couldn’t be concerned about that. He wasn’t going to leave town, even for a day, while all this business with Naomi Cross was still up in the air. No telling what she might try to do while he was gone. No telling what Joseph might do, because Alex still wasn’t entirely convinced Aubree’s father hadn’t somehow orchestrated all this, maybe even without Naomi’s knowledge.

  “I spoke to the Jefferson County sheriff this morning,” Foley informed him, drawing Alex out of his reverie. “His name is Mooney, and his office is right there in Eden.”

  “What did he say?” Alex asked anxiously.

  “He pretty much confirmed Naomi Cross’s story.”

  “So it’s true.” Alex felt more numb than surprised. Ever since he’d left Naomi’s hotel room last night, he’d been bracing himself for this moment, even as he told himself her story couldn’t possibly be true. No way on this earth Taryn could be her daughter. Because if she was...if Naomi had given birth to her, that meant Taryn couldn’t be his. That meant his and Aubree’s baby was dead.

  But Taryn was his daughter, Alex thought fiercely. She was his daughter in every way that counted. He’d raised her, dammit. He’d sat up with her when she was sick, held her when she’d awakened from her nightmares. Ever since Aubree’s death, Alex had tried desperately to make up to Taryn for those years when he hadn’t been there for her. But maybe that was impossible. Maybe he couldn’t make up for it, and this was h
is punishment.

  “Look,” Foley said, setting aside his notes. “I can see you’re worried about this woman, but I think you should try to relax. From what I’ve been able to gather, she doesn’t have a case.”

  “You sure about that?” Alex sat forward, his hands clenched around the arms of his chair.

  “Absolutely. Sheriff Mooney admitted there wouldn’t even be an investigation unless Naomi Cross pressed for one. And she hasn’t.”

  “That’s because she decided to come here and investigate for herself.”

  “Yes,” Foley agreed. “She’s desperate. Sheriff Mooney made no secret of the fact that his department has their hands full right now, what with two kidnapping cases, an attempted murder, and God only knows what else going on up there. They’re not about to open up a fifteen-year-old can of worms based on a crazy woman’s deathbed confession, especially considering there are no hospital records, no witnesses, no evidence of any kind to back up her claim. It’s a dead end as far as they’re concerned.”

  Alex wished he had as much confidence as Foley seemed to that this whole thing would just dry up and blow away in a matter of days. But Foley hadn’t seen the look on Naomi’s face last night when she’d talked about her daughters. Alex had, and he knew there was no way in hell she would give up that easily. Evidence or no, she would find any means possible to keep her hope alive. Because she had to.

  “It isn’t going to be that easy,” he said with a sigh. “Naomi made it clear last night that she isn’t going away.”

  Foley’s auburn brows lifted slowly. “Naomi?”

  Alex shrugged. He’d surprised himself a little by referring to her by her first name, but it had just slipped out. A little too easily, perhaps. “She’s pushing for a DNA test.”

  “She can push all she wants, but that doesn’t mean you have to agree.” Foley shrugged. “You’re holding all the cards here whether you realize it or not. If you don’t agree to the test, then it’s all over. The problem goes away.”

  “I’d like to believe you, but you haven’t met Naomi Cross.” Alex left his chair, sliding his hands into his trousers pockets as he moved to the windows. “She won’t go away. She’s convinced Taryn is her child, and if I don’t agree to the DNA test, I’m afraid she may try to get to Taryn. She doesn’t need that kind of confusion in her life right now, Foley. I don’t need it.”