by Debra Webb
He cleared his throat of the lump rising there and reached into his shirt pocket. “Mel, there’s something you should see.” He handed her the clipped Polaroid they’d found in Garland Hanes’s wallet. “Hanes had this on him. Rita Grider confirmed that Katlin’s wearing the same gown in this photograph that she was in the one she was shown to identify the body. Clearly, Katlin is alive in this one.”
Mel’s breath caught. She looked from the photo to him. “Why didn’t you show me this before?” She blinked rapidly to hold back the tears but a few escaped and slid down her porcelain smooth cheeks.
He had to look away a moment before he could answer. He wanted so desperately to touch her. “We…ah…” His eyes met hers once more. “We didn’t want to give you false hope until we knew more.” He shook his head and looked a second time. “I’ve seen it happen too many times. I couldn’t…” The rest was too difficult to say without giving away too much. She already suspected his feelings went way beyond the professional scope. He’d seen the realization in her eyes.
“Ryan.”
He looked at her then, knowing his eyes revealed too much, but unable to deny her. “Yeah.”
“Promise me that no matter what happens…that no matter what you discover, you won’t stop looking for my daughter until you’ve found her.”
The request confused him, startled him, too. Why would she think he’d do otherwise? “You know I won’t stop.”
She smiled weakly. “I’m counting on that.”
He couldn’t stop himself now either…God knows he tried. But he had to kiss her.
Mel should have stopped him…she really should have. But she needed this as much as he appeared to. She lifted her mouth to his and closed her eyes. The feel of his lips against hers wrenched a gasp from her. He hesitated but only for a second and then his mouth opened and came down fully on hers.
Sensation after sensation exploded along her nerve endings. Heat stirred way down deep inside her, making her melt with anticipation. He kissed her long and deep, allowing the heat to build before he thrust his tongue inside.
She moaned loudly, uncaring now of how wanton and desperate she sounded. Of their own accord, her arms went up and around his neck. And suddenly the wall of his wide, muscled chest was pressed against her breasts. One hand glided along her spine while the other delved into her hair, careful of her latest injury.
Instinct took over completely then, led by a desire so strong, a need so desperate that she could deny neither.
She fell back onto the pillows, drawing him down with her. His heavy male body moved over hers, aligning hard lines and contours with her soft feminine curves and mounds.
“Melany,” he murmured between kisses, “I’ve missed you so much.”
His words sent a new kind of thrill through her. Her fingers speared into his hair and she kissed him harder, pressed her hips to his, reveling in the feel of his desire for her.
The ring of the telephone shattered the momentum.
Ryan froze, his mouth mere centimeters from hers. “We should answer that.”
A fierce ache of need arrowed through her. “You’re right,” she said on a frantic breath.
He shifted up and off her as she reached for the telephone on her bedside table just as the third ring rent the air.
“Hello.”
“Mel? Are you okay?”
Rita.
“Rita. Yes. I’m fine.” She scooted up to a sitting position and pushed the hair from her face. Guilt immediately tugged at her. She hadn’t even called her friend lately. “Is everything okay with you?”
“Thank God you’re all right. The hospital called and wanted to know if I was okay. Apparently they still had my number listed for you.”
Mel stilled. Her gaze met Ryan’s. Those blue eyes had cleared of their lust and were watching her intently.
“I don’t understand,” Mel said carefully. “Who at the hospital called you?”
“I don’t know. He might have said who he was, but I kind of lost it when he asked if I was all right after my latest accident and then he called me Ms. Jackson and I figured…” She lapsed into silence for a moment. “God, Mel, if I hadn’t borrowed your SUV none of this would have happened. Katlin…” She made a painful keening sound. “It’s my fault,” she sobbed.
“No, Rita,” Mel said firmly, clutching the receiver with both hands as if she could reach through and touch her friend. “None of this is your fault. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Rita cried harder in spite of her acknowledgement.
“Listen,” Mel ordered, “we have every reason to believe that Katlin is alive. So you just stop crying this instant.” Her own tears welled. “We’re going to find her. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” Rita took a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart on you.”
Mel massaged her aching forehead. With all that had been going on she hadn’t realized how badly her head hurt until now. Maybe the blessed numbness had saved her until…until Ryan had distracted her. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“You’ll call me as soon as you know anything?” Rita urged.
Mel swiped at her damp cheeks. “Definitely. Take care.”
She hung up the phone and looked straight into those analyzing blue eyes focused steadily on her. “A man from the hospital called Rita by mistake and asked if she was all right? He thought she was me. He already knew about the accident.”
“Eat,” Ryan ordered. “And then we’re going to the command center. I’ll call Bill.”
* * *
MEL PACED the floor of the office Memphis P.D. had lent them for a command center. She couldn’t sit. She had to keep moving. Bill and Ryan were doing the same.
“Here’s what we’ve got,” Bill said, pausing to pop another piece of nicotine-laced gum. He’d already brought them up to speed on what he’d learned today, but rehashing the information they had so far was the best way to glean previously missed details. “The M.E. is certain the caliber of the bullet that ripped into Hanes’s head is not consistent with the .38 we found in his right hand. But since there’s no slug, we can’t confirm that. The M.E., however, feels the damage is more consistent with the 9 mm that offed Peterson and Mason, which was the same weapon, by the way. Ballistics confirmed that a little while ago.”
“So the shooter is likely the same person,” Ryan suggested.
“Maybe the same guy who tried to run me off the road,” Mel added to the mix. “Except, why didn’t he just shoot me?”
Ryan winced. Bill said, “Good point.”
“Our M.E. is working on his assistant now. The one who signed off on all those autopsy reports. His boss apparently dragged him back from his little emergency trip back home. The M.E. hopes to wrench a confession out of the guy before we put the cops on his office. Apparently he’s taken some heat in the past and wants to try to do this discreetly.”
“And someone from the local Bureau office is verifying Walton’s statement now?” Ryan asked.
Bill nodded. “I’ve got ’em swarming all over the hospital’s files, too.” He grinned. “Upton and I are no longer on speaking terms.”
Mel liked Bill’s style. Reel ’em in with whatever works and then go for the jugular.
“Do we have anything on Mason yet?” Mel wanted to know. This was all good and fine, the hospital was likely going to pay dearly for their misconduct, even if they never found Wilcox. But that didn’t put her closer to finding her daughter. “And what about Letson?”
Bill lifted a skeptical brow. “Letson is missing in action. Has been since late yesterday. Cuddahy’s working on Mason’s finances, while our friendly hacker-for-hire is tracing where he’s been on the World Wide Web.”
“So,” Mel began thoughtfully, “basically we’re at a standstill. We have a number of things going on, but no place to go relative to the search for my daughter.”
Ryan fixed his relentless gaze on hers. “We’ve got someone watchin
g Desmond and Forest Lawn night and day. Anyone who could possibly have seen or heard anything relative to the hospital, the accident, and Mason’s office is being questioned. We’re on the right track, Mel. We just have to play the game…take the steps. Wait it out. You know the drill.”
Yes, she knew the routine all too well. The longer her daughter was missing the less likely they were to find her.
Ryan looked to Bill then. “Anything on that couple in Dallas?”
Bill stole a look at Mel before clearing his throat.
“What couple in Dallas?” They’d been hiding stuff from her again. “Tell me. What couple?”
“In Mason’s office I found a disk. It contained files related to private adoptions. A couple in Dallas were set to adopt a little girl matching Katlin’s description three days after your accident.”
Her heart rocketed into her throat, making speech near impossible. “Get me on a plane to Dallas,” she demanded. “I want to see if she’s there. Now!”
Ryan took her by the arms, she tried to jerk away, but he held on tight. “Mel,” he said quietly, “we’ve got the Dallas Bureau going to the house right now. They’ll call us the moment they have confirmation.”
Didn’t he understand? Her daughter might be there. “I have to go and see for myself. They could lie. The feds in Dallas don’t know Katlin.” Hysteria made her voice shrill. She told herself to calm down but she couldn’t.
“We’ve faxed them all the pertinent information including a picture,” Bill reassured her, drawing her attention to him. “They know what they’re doing, Mel.”
“We need you here,” Ryan urged. “Katlin could still be close by.”
When she would have argued the door burst open and Carter rushed in. “They I.D.’d the guy who tried to run Ms. Jackson over,” he said breathlessly.
A hush fell over the room as they waited for him to continue.
“It was a Dr. Curtis Letson, chief of pediatrics at Memphis General.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryan’s cell phone rang in the tense silence that settled after Carter’s announcement.
“I’ll…ah…go see what else I can find out,” Carter stuttered as he backed out of the room.
Ryan’s gaze shifted to Mel. The look of helplessness, disbelief, something on that order on her face, in her posture, made him want to put his arms around her. Letson had tried to kill her. Even worse, to her way of thinking, one more connection to her missing child was gone forever.
His phone rang again, seemingly more insistent this time. Reluctantly he snapped it open. It could be important. “Braxton.”
“Ryan, this is Trent Tucker.”
Trent. From the Colby Agency. A frown tugged across Ryan’s brow. “Yes, Trent. How’s it going in Chicago?”
Since his case wasn’t connected to the agency, Ryan hadn’t considered calling in. Maybe he should have. Then he remembered that Victoria had asked him to. Damn, he’d completely forgotten her request.
“I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
Ryan glanced around the room and decided to take the call outside. “No, not at all. How can I help you?”
“Victoria wanted an update on the case you’re working. She…wondered if you’d found the missing child.”
Trent’s tone sounded stilted as if there was something more behind his question than mere interest in the case. “We haven’t located the child yet, but we now have reason to believe she’s alive as the mother suspected.” He closed his eyes and shook his head at the words he used, the mother—as though he had no feelings for her. Yes, there was still something between them, but the they he and Mel had once been would never be again. He’d hurt her too badly…she’d hurt him and then there was Katlin. And, somewhere in the mix, another man.
“That’s good news,” Trent agreed, sounding genuinely glad to hear it.
“I should have kept Victoria posted, but things have been a little crazy here,” Ryan admitted. Other than basic human compassion, he couldn’t see the need to keep anyone at the agency informed. This wasn’t their case.
“I understand crazy,” Trent offered, then, “Look, Ryan, I know you haven’t been with the agency long, but Victoria lost a child about eighteen years ago.”
The news surprised him. Victoria Colby was so strong, he had a hard time imaging any sort of evil touching her. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s not something she talks about. But whenever a case like this one comes up, you can still see remnants of that old devastation. It always takes its toll on her. We’d appreciate it if you’d let us know how it goes down there.”
“Sure. I’ll do that.”
“Also, let us know if we can provide any assistance.”
Ryan thanked him and ended the call. As he tucked the phone back into his pocket he wondered at the information he’d just learned. His instincts automatically went on point whenever he learned of a missing child. He wondered if, when he got back, there was anything he could do to help Victoria. The case would be stone-cold by now. But he would gladly look into her son’s disappearance. Eighteen years ago they hadn’t possessed the advanced technology they had now. Not to mention a lot of headway had been made in understanding and identifying child predators. He might just be able to find something that had been missed.
Before Ryan could step back into the command center Bill and Mel came rushing out.
“Just got a call from the detective working Helen Peterson’s homicide. They’ve found Wilcox’s body and it looks like he left a note confessing to everything.”
* * *
HOWARD WILCOX lay crossways on a rumpled bed in a seedy motel room. Any dignity he’d had had drained out on the cheap sheets from the supposedly self-inflicted head wound caused by the 9 mm in his hand.
Ryan would bet a sum matching the national deficit that the 9 mm was the weapon used in Hanes’s, Mason’s and Peterson’s murders. He’d also wager that all three, this one making four, had been carried out by the same unknown subject. The one they needed to find before anyone else who might know Katlin Jackson’s whereabouts turned up dead. But if the shooter had been Letson, all was lost.
He glanced around the room, a couple of crime-scene techs were standing by waiting for the M.E.’s office to come take the body away while others were busy doing what had to be done prior to the body’s removal.
Mel had taken one look at the scene and opted to stay outside.
“Another neat little package,” Bill said facetiously as he skimmed the confession note once more. The document had been bagged as evidence, the protective plastic allowing them to analyze the final words of the victim without contaminating any trace evidence or prints it might carry.
“Forgive me, I could not stop myself. The money…I needed the money. I killed Garland Hanes, Helen Peterson and my friend and attorney Rodney Mason in hopes of hiding what I had done. But I can no longer live with myself,” Bill read, his tone revealing his lack of conviction. “It was my fault Katlin Jackson died. I wanted to cover up my mistakes but things just got out of control. Please forgive me. If it will help, please know that Letson and I acted alone. We are the guilty ones…now I’ll answer to God. Letson can tell you everything.” Bill made a disgusted sound. “How frigging convenient.”
“Case closed,” Ryan offered with a serving of his own sarcasm. It was convenient that the police hadn’t been tipped off about the body until after Letson was out of the way.
Bill handed the letter back to one of the techs. “Damn, this throws up another brick wall. All our leads keep turning up dead.”
Ryan was certain Melany would be coming to the same conclusion about now. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he muttered. There was nothing else they could do here, anyway.
Bill nodded. “I’ll meet you two back at the command center.”
Ryan went in search of Mel. As he’d suspected, she looked ready to burst into tears.
“Is it true?” she asked. “Did he say he’d killed
my daughter?”
Jesus, someone had a big mouth. “We can’t put any stock in anything in that letter. We can’t even say for sure that he wrote it.”
She jerked away from him when he would have reached for her. “Tell me, Ryan! Did he say that he hurt Katlin?”
He took a deep breath and told her the truth. “He said it was his fault she was dead.”
A wail like that of a wounded animal issued from her throat and she fell against him sobbing so forcefully he felt sure she couldn’t possibly breathe.
“Mel, I’m certain the letter was composed to throw us off track, to make us give up.” He held her tighter against his chest. “Don’t give up on me, okay? We’ll find her. I know we will.”
Long minutes later when she’d composed herself as best she could, he led her to the car and they drove in silence to the Downtown Precinct. He wished a thousand times that there was more he could say or do…but there was nothing he could offer except the relentlessness on which he’d built a reputation in the Bureau.
Ryan Braxton never gave up.
He wouldn’t now.
* * *
WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the command center, Bill waited at the door. He had that look…the one that said What took you so long—I’ve got an update. Mel prayed he didn’t have more devastating news. She wasn’t sure how much more she could handle. She felt cold inside, cold and empty. And so damned fragile. Any second now she might just shatter completely.
She hated like hell that she’d fallen apart back there. Sucking in a ragged breath, she told herself to be strong. Don’t lose hope. Be strong. For Katlin.
“What now?” Ryan growled.
A wave of relief washed over her at his tone. It was comforting to know that she wasn’t the only one on edge here.
Bill looked taken aback. “Don’t bite my head off. I didn’t kill Wilcox.”
Mel had to laugh, the sound brittle and pained. The things Bill could think to say.
Bill grinned. “Now that’s more like it.”
