by Debra Webb
Bill hung up. No goodbye, no thank-you, just hung up. That was Bill. Mel covertly swiped her eyes, then quickly scribbled a couple of names she remembered onto her pad. He was the perfect contrast to Ryan. Bill was all grumpy bark and no bite. Ryan was the one to be wary of. Polished, silent and lethal. There was a kind of dangerous elegance about him. And why wouldn’t there be? He spent ninety percent of his time dealing with the lowest of the lowlife. People who committed crimes against children.
The work had hardened him to the point that most who knew him well called him heartless. But Mel had been around during that other ten percent of his time. His lovemaking and sense of possessiveness were every bit as intense as his dedication to duty. He’d loved her the only way he’d known how, no question there. But he always held back part of himself. Never let go completely. He was the most guarded man she’d ever known. And no matter how much she’d loved him, she could never get past that wall he’d erected around his heart.
She recognized that it was a self-preservation instinct, pure and simple. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept. So she’d left. And now, here they were, thrown together again by fate. God, how she wished she could go back and change what had happened. She closed her eyes and replayed her last hours with Katlin. They’d been in a hurry to get to the post office before it closed. She’d suddenly realized she’d forgotten her purse and had to turn around.
The light was green, but the other car didn’t yield. She was halfway through the intersection before she realized he wasn’t going to stop…then it was too late. She remembered reaching back to brace Katlin. Though the baby was strapped into her car seat, the move had been instinctive. She recalled vividly the sound of squealing tires. The horrible impact and groan of crumpling metal.
Then nothing.
“This is Greg Carter,” Bill announced.
Startled, Mel looked up. A young man had entered the office without her realizing it. The gopher. Blond hair, brown eyes, and most likely still as green as he’d been the day they issued him the stiffly starched uniform he so proudly wore.
Mel stood, offered her hand and dredged up a thin smile. “Hey, Greg, good to have you on board.”
He grinned and gave her hand an enthusiastic pump. “Thanks, ma’am. This is my first time working on a joint task force.”
Translation: playing errand boy to the Feds and company. “I’m sure you’ll be a big help.” Though she wasn’t at all sure the four of them actually fulfilled the definition of a task force, why burst the rookie’s bubble?
“And this is Ryan Braxton,” Bill said, gesturing in his direction. “He’s the lead investigator in this case.”
Ryan’s wide hand engulfed the kid’s and squeezed briefly. “We have two rules, Carter,” Ryan said bluntly. “What’s said between the members of this team goes no further without authorization from either Bill or me, and you never deviate from orders. You do it when, where and how we say, no exceptions.”
Greg bobbed his head. “I understand, sir. You can count on me.”
Braxton’s rules. Though he had always been highly sought after for his awesome profiling abilities, he wasn’t exactly team player material. His former Bureau superiors had long ago given up on making him play by their rules. Ryan Braxton was a rule unto himself. He did his job and nobody asked questions, because he was just too damned good. No one would risk losing his expertise. She was sure the Colby Agency felt the same way about him now that they had him on their team. Mel was no different. She would play by his don’t-question-anything-I-say rules and she would do whatever he told her…to an extent, choosing her battles carefully.
Whatever it took to find Katlin. She swallowed back the ache that climbed into her throat each time she thought of her daughter. Focus on the steps of the investigation, she reminded herself as she directed her attention back to the newest member of their little group.
Bill gave Carter a detailed list of what he expected him to pick up at the hospital then said, “Pick up the court order first. And when you get to the hospital, I want you to watch the clerk pull the records and make the copies. Don’t let those files out of your sight until you have a complete copy. With this kind of case you can’t trust anyone. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mel wouldn’t have been surprised if the guy had snapped off a salute before hustling out the door. Talk about eager.
She studied Bill for a moment. It didn’t matter to him that the records clerks were probably gone home by now. He wanted what he wanted now. In that respect he was very much like Ryan. But no one she had ever met in the Bureau could hold a candle where Ryan’s single-minded determination was concerned. He had spent most of his Bureau time on the road for that very reason. He was relentless. He never gave up until he’d accomplished what he set out to do. She’d never been more grateful for that characteristic than she was now.
Following Bill’s lead, Mel returned to her assigned task. She grimaced as her stiff muscles reminded her that she wasn’t back to her old self yet. And, God, she was so tired. She massaged her neck, wishing the steady throb in her head would take a break. She really needed some sleep. But sleep was out of the question. Every time she closed her eyes…the voices came. She just couldn’t go through another night of the dreams and cries.
* * *
SHE SHOULDN’T BE IN HERE. Ryan rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. She looked like hell, definitely needed some rest. His brow furrowed into a frown. He wondered if she’d even eaten today. He forced his attention back to his time line. She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself, he reasoned. It was none of his business whether she’d slept or eaten. They were working a case together. Nothing more. And, had it been up to him, she wouldn’t even be doing that.
He tried to recall the months they’d worked together before…before they’d become lovers. What was the point? Even then he’d been mesmerized by every little thing about her. The way she smiled…her laugh, the way her mouth quirked when she wanted to laugh and knew she shouldn’t. Everything about her made him want her. The curve of her cheek, the taste of her lips, the heat of her sweet body as he sank deeply inside her. His lips tightened into a thin line of self-deprecation. How could he still think that way?
She wasn’t his anymore. As soon as he solved the mystery surrounding her daughter’s disappearance they wouldn’t see each other again.
He’d go back to Chicago and she’d go back to…to whomever she’d turned to since she’d walked away from him. His frown deepened. Where the hell was the child’s father now when Mel needed him most? Ryan snapped the cap onto the black marker he’d been using with enough force to crack it. Why did he even wonder? Somehow he had to get past this ridiculous feeling of possessiveness. He’d even caught himself studying the child’s photograph to see if he could find any resemblance to himself. Of course there was none. The child was a carbon copy of her mother. Why had he done that?
He’d spent the entire afternoon, he glanced at his watch, and a good part of the evening closed up in this office with her. The subtle scent of her perfume was driving him crazy. It was the same fragrance she’d always worn. Sweet, light, natural. He wanted desperately to thread his fingers into all that silky blond hair. To taste those pink lips while he stared into those eager green eyes.
He massaged the back of his neck, the muscles tight and knotted there. He had to get out of here before he did or said something he’d regret. “I’m calling it a night.” He turned to face Bill and Mel. “We could all use some rest.” He sent a pointed look in her direction. She merely lifted her chin and glared back at him.
Bill closed his notebook. “I was just thinking the same thing.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve probably got time to have dinner before Carter gets back. I want to look at those files tonight.”
Ryan resisted the impulse to shake him. Didn’t Bill get it? He’d had all the Melany exposure he could take today. “Fine.” Ryan headed toward the door. “I’ll see t
he two of you in the morning.”
“I thought we could take Mel to dinner and see her safely home,” Bill put in quickly, stopping Ryan dead in his tracks.
They were going to have to have a talk. But not right now. Not in front of Mel. The last thing Ryan wanted was for her to know that she still affected him…on any level.
Ryan pinned Bill with a look. One he hoped relayed the depth of his irritation. “I’m sure you two can manage without me. I have things to do. Calls to make.” He turned to Mel. “You have my number. Call me if you need me.”
She nodded, her expression unreadable.
He didn’t want to wonder what she was thinking, but he did. He walked out anyway, paused in the corridor and took a long, deep breath. He had to stay focused on the case…not Melany. He had to keep the face of the child before him…not the mother. It was the child who needed him. Whether she was dead or alive, he had to find her. That was his job. Holding Mel’s hand was not part of the deal. Bill would just have to see to that task himself.
Ryan exited the building and unlocked his rental car. He opened the door, but hesitated before getting inside. He cursed himself for the hesitation. Mel was strong, she could handle this, he assured that irritating little voice in his head. She didn’t need him, anyway. Hadn’t she been the one to walk out? Besides, if she wanted a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold, why didn’t she just call up the father of her child?
He gritted his teeth at that thought. Damn. He didn’t want to feel this. He just wanted to do the job and get the hell out of here.
“Ryan, wait!”
Mel.
He turned in the direction of her voice. She was hurrying toward him, her face pale, her eyes suspiciously bright. Something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name shifted in his chest. He stood there, staring at her, until she’d reached him and caught her breath.
“Was there something else?” he growled.
She shook her head. “No, it’s just that…” She paused and grappled for composure. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for agreeing to help me.”
His fingers tightened on the door. Why hadn’t he already gotten in and driven away? His own emotions were too raw and close to the surface to deal with this. “There’s no need to thank me,” he told her flatly. “I’m only doing my job.”
She pushed a handful of silky hair behind her ear. She’d always worn it up around the office. Seeing her with it down like this reminded him of the time they’d spent together. Alone. Intimately.
“I know you didn’t want to take this case.” She looked away, but couldn’t hide the tortured expression that had claimed her features. “You probably think I’m crazy just like everybody else, but I know my daughter’s alive.”
He flinched at the tormented sound of her voice, then grabbed back control. This was business, he had to make sure it stayed that way. “I don’t think anything at this point,” he said with more clinical detachment than he’d thought possible. “And, if I remember correctly, you were the one who didn’t want me on this case.”
Color rose in her pale cheeks as she looked up at him once more. “I was wrong.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “I didn’t know how I would handle seeing you again.”
An eyebrow shot up his forehead. “Why would you worry?” he demanded sharply. “We have been over for two years.”
She looked away again, and he could have kicked himself. Where the hell was his control?
“I know.” The words were hardly more than a sigh. “But I was worried anyway. We were—”
“Were being the operative word,” he interjected roughly. This was going nowhere. Neither of them needed this right now. “Your appreciation is duly noted. Get some rest, Mel, you’ll need it.”
He got into the car, closed the door and drove away. There was nothing else to say about the past and one of them had to be big enough to admit it.
He just hadn’t expected it to be him.
CHAPTER THREE
Melany sat in Katlin’s room that night.
She’d taken a long hot soak in the tub to ease her stiff muscles. Now, she just sat there, trying not to think. Or feel. She rolled her head, stretching her neck. It didn’t help. Her head still ached, not like before, but just enough to be annoying.
The minute hand on the Little Mermaid clock sidled one notch closer to the hour. Twelve minutes before 1:00 a.m. She really should go to bed. She was exhausted. She needed to sleep. But why bother? If she slept, she would dream. If she dreamed she would have to remember.
She didn’t want to remember. She wanted to focus on tomorrow and the day after that. Focus on finding Katlin. Bringing her home. She moistened her lips and clasped her trembling hands in her lap. She would bring her home. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And then she would sit and watch her baby sleep like so many other nights….
Nights she’d taken for granted. How could this happen? She pressed her lips together as the hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d seen it happen to other people. But, like the rest of the world, she’d never imagined it would happen to her. When she’d been at the Bureau she’d worked cases so unthinkable, so heinous that she’d carefully locked away the images in some rarely visited recess of her mind. She was a professor of law now. Had put her Bureau days behind her. She couldn’t even remember the names of the victims anymore.
It was one of the most important tools an agent could possess. The ability to separate the facts from the emotions. Don’t look at them as people…they’re cases. Just cases. Ryan had taught her that. But now it was her name…her case file.
Her child missing…presumed dead.
A breath shuddered out. Her gaze settled on the frilly yellow coverlet in her daughter’s crib. She’d sat in this rocker and watched her baby girl sleep the night before…the accident.
What she would give to be able to do that now.
Mel stood, wiped the tears from her eyes and stiffened her spine. She had to do something constructive. Make plans. Clean house. Something. Her gaze rested on the crib once more. She should have taken down the crib months ago. Katlin had climbed out a dozen times already. She was too old for a crib. There were youth beds available for that in-between age when a toddler was too old for a crib, but not quite old enough for a regular twin-size bed. The local super-store had them, she recalled.
She went in search of the sale catalog she’d gotten in the mail the other day. She may as well pick one out right now. She could have it ready and waiting when Katlin came home.
She flipped on the living room light and rummaged through the basket that held her magazines and catalogs. Katlin would love a pretty pink bed. Mel was relatively certain she’d seen a sort of storybook or princess style youth bed in here somewhere. Her little girl would be so excited when she came home and found it in her own room.
Melany paused, catalog in hand. If she came home. That damned trembling started again. Katlin was coming home. She was alive. Melany knew it. She felt it as strongly as she felt her own heart beating beneath her breast.
She sat down on the sofa and flipped through the pages. Other people just didn’t understand. She and Katlin had a special connection. She sighed, thinking of the baby-sweet scent and pale silky hair of her child. Well, maybe all mothers and daughters had a special connection, but theirs was different. Mel always, always knew when Katlin needed her or when something wasn’t quite right where her child was concerned. She could sense it, no matter how many miles stood between them.
If Katlin was…dead, surely that feeling wouldn’t be so strong. Melany could feel the pull even now. Her daughter needed her. Every time she closed her eyes she could hear her cries. She shook her head. She didn’t care if people thought she was crazy. She knew what she felt. All she’d needed was for Bill to believe her, and he had.
Ryan was another story. He was far too analytical to simply believe any old thing he was told. He would require evidence, solid proof that there had been some sort of foul play involved in the case.
And Melany had none. Just her intuition and an empty coffin. The authorities, including Ryan, had to admit that at least one law had been broken. A body was missing and that was a felony in itself. She’d been charged for a vault and a proper interment, which she hadn’t received—that was also a criminal offense. Even if the funeral director claimed the body was merely misplaced, he still had the latter charge to explain. He’d taken the easy way out and blamed an employee, Garland Hanes. An employee who was suddenly missing and known for his bouts of alcohol abuse.
Melany shivered. Had that man touched her child? She closed her eyes and banished that thought. She would not allow herself to believe Katlin had been harmed in any way until someone proved it to her beyond a shadow of a doubt. She just couldn’t bear the thought of it. She would search until she found the truth. Her child was out there somewhere and needed her. She would do whatever she had to in order to keep Ryan Braxton on the case.
Anything—except tell him the truth.
She couldn’t do that. Couldn’t take the chance. Bill wasn’t going to like it when he found out. If he found out. He was one of those people who was honest to a fault. Tell it like it is, was his motto. But Melany couldn’t do that this time, for more reasons than one.
She would face the consequences when the time came, if Ryan somehow discovered the truth—and he most likely would. When he’d had a chance to really look at the facts, he’d do the math and then he’d ask her. If he asked, she’d never be able to lie to him…not straight-faced, anyway. Katlin was his child. She could only pray that he wouldn’t discover he was Katlin’s father anytime soon. She needed that ruthless detachment for which he was known. The truth would only muddy the waters.
Melany set the catalog aside and drew her knees up to her chest and hugged her arms around them. She had to sort through all these leftover feelings where Ryan was concerned. She couldn’t work with him day in and day out without getting her head on straight first.
