“My son,” he blurted out.
She put a finger to her lips, scowling.
He ducked his head a little.
“Sorry,” he whispered, looking around. “My son. Kayla Massen is the mom.”
The nurses eyebrows went up.
“You’re the father?” she said.
“I am,” he said, his heart pounding.
Remember. You have a right to be here.
She glanced down at the carrier in his hand.
“A present,” he said, his mouth dry. “About being late. I was out of town. My work, it’s, well, you know. Well, how would you know? I hardly know and…” He shrugged and felt sweat trickle under his arm. At least he knew it was a boy, thanks to Isabelle. A thought occurred to him. “Isabelle got in touch with me,” he said. “Just this morning.”
A momentary flicker of recognition crossed the woman’s face.
Everyone remembered Isabelle.
“Which one is he?” Daniel asked. “I can hardly wait to hold him.”
At that, the nurse had to smile.
“Right over here,” she said. She pointed to a crib in the third row. The two of them converged on it and Daniel set down the car seat. “Daniel Gavin Massen,” he read out lout.
Who in the hell is Gavin?
“Have you ever held and infant before?” she asked as she took a small clear bottle from the large pocket of her smock. She squeezed some clear liquid into her hand and held the bottle out to him and indicated his hands. He held them out and she did the same for him. “Always wash your hands first,” she said, snapping the bottle closed and putting it away. She rubbed her hands together and Daniel imitated her.
This is ridiculous. Just skip the lesson, lady.
“When you pick him up, just remember that the head is the heaviest part of their body,” she said. She scooped her hand under the head and Daniel realized for the first time that the baby’s eyes were open. Did it look like him? “Spread your fingers, put your other hand under the bottom,” she said as she did that, “and lift toward your chest.” She demonstrated but then put the baby back down. “Go ahead,” she said, backing up. “Give it a try. Nothing to be afraid of.”
Afraid of? He nearly laughed. The only thing he was afraid of was being here too long.
He picked up the baby, a loose and wobbly bundle, as the nurse had done.
“Hold him to your chest and support his head and neck,” she said.
Daniel nearly rolled his eyes but did as he was told.
Even so, he had to marvel at how small the boy actually was, especially given the price he’d bring.
Time was wasting.
When Daniel raised his gaze to the nurse, she was smiling like a madonna at the two of them.
“I’ll just hold him for a while if that’s okay?”
“Oh of course,” she said, waving at him. “Take your time. Mom is resting.”
As she headed to the door, he paced a little and looked down at the baby.
Where is the security device?
You didn’t have to be in the baby business long to know that hospitals these days used a bracelet or sometimes even something in the diaper to trigger an alarm when a perimeter was crossed.
“I’ll be at the nurse’s station if you need anything,” she said.
“Thanks,” he replied.
The security device was one of the reasons she was ready to leave him there so readily.
And her workload, he thought as he watched her pass in front of the large window.
He’d be sure not to exit in that direction.
•••••
Mac’s big hands worked delicately with the gauze and tape. Though the burn hadn’t been bad, Mac had worried about her wearing a glove over it.
He’d been quiet ever since she’d talked about his thoughts. Most people had no idea what was in their heads. Even when she repeated it to them verbatim, they didn’t recognize it. But Mac did and it obviously bothered him.
“You could be a doctor,” she said–and waited. It was as though he hadn’t heard her. “Mac?”
Finally, he smiled.
“You’re just saying that because you’ve seen my bedside manner,” he said. The gentle curve of his full lips was mesmerizing. “That ought to do it,” he said, with a final press of the tape on the back of her hand. Though he laid the tape and scissors on the open first aid kit, he didn’t let go of her hand. When he turned back to her, she focused on his eyes, the strange blue-green that seemed to defy category. At the moment, they were almost completely green, like a dark jungle. “When you do a reading,” he said lowly, looking at her hand, “is it just your palm and the underside of your fingers that are sensitive and not the back of your hand?”
No one had ever asked her that. She smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged a little.
“No reason.”
He looked as though he were going to say something and, for some reason she couldn’t put her finger on, Isabelle held her breath.
Something is going on behind those eyes.
But then, without another word, Mac reached down and grasped her other hand as well. He was still wearing the latex gloves but the unexpected movement had surprised her. Though a moment recovering, as Mac slowly but steadily lifted her hand, Isabelle finally realized what he was doing. She could only stare as he softly pressed his lips to the back of it.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
“Your skin is so soft,” he whispered.
His warm, moist breath was like silk. Whether it was the burn on the other hand, or the way he’d caught her off guard, or the fact that this skin was almost never exposed she didn’t know, but it was incredibly sensitive. A tension that started in her toes raced up her core as Mac’s lips languidly grazed her. They skipped along the tops of her fingers, tingling, almost ticklish. She fought the urge to grip his hand as he took his time, his mouth exploring the dips between the knuckles, his lips caressing each peak in turn. A tremble fluttered in her stomach, her heart beat faster, and she drew in a long and shaky breath.
No one had ever touched her like this–as though her hands were always off-limits.
But this was Mac.
He slid his lips, with small gnawing movements, down the back of her hand. At her wrist, he reversed directions. Her heart was hammering now. The sensation on her skin somewhere between buzzing and burning. She had to shut her eyes, unable to watch. But just the feel of his lush lips pressing against her was almost as overwhelming. Again and again, his tender kisses tested her, the coil of tension in her abdomen tightening with each one. Sudden heat rushed up the skin of her arm and over her chest and still his lips would not stop.
But as they reached her wrist yet again, he slowly turned her hand over.
“Oh god,” she whispered, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Mac’s lips touched the inside of her wrist. Isabelle fought the urge to pull her hand back, even as a throb erupted inside her and warmth began to spread between her thighs. His breath poured into her palm. His lips slipped a fraction closer. Blood was pounding in her ears and she felt herself start to sway. The anticipation was too much.
Suddenly, Mac’s phone rang.
And, then, so did hers.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAC DROPPED THE cell phone into his front pocket and took out his keys.
We’ve got him.
He waited for Isabelle to get off the phone.
“We will,” Isabelle was saying as she stood up from the couch. “Kayla, I promise you, we will.” She glanced at Mac. “I’ve got to go now. Try to stay calm. Susan will be there soon. Okay. Right. Bye.” Isabelle hung up and focused her worried look on him. “She’s beside herself.”
Mac nodded, holding out his arms.
“I’m sure,” he said, as Isabelle stepped quickly into his embrace. “But the rate of recovering infants unharmed is very high. Especially when the abductor is a paren
t.” Isabelle nodded against his chest, hugging him. “In a way, this is good news.” She leaned away from him and looked up into his face, her eyebrows knit together. “It’s kidnapping,” he said, answering the unasked question.
“But he’s the father.”
Mac shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s still kidnapping.” He grinned. “And that puts it in FBI territory and that means we can get a search warrant.” His phone rang. “In fact…” he said, letting Isabelle go and fishing his phone out. He hit the answer button. “MacMillan,” he said.
Isabelle stood directly in front of him as the police lieutenant gave him the bad news: there was no sign of Daniel or the baby. Wherever he’d gone, it wasn’t home. FBI agents were on the scene to look for clues.
“All right,” Mac said. It was time to profile Daniel. He’d start with the condo. “I’ll be right there,” he said and hung up.
Isabelle got her purse and slung it over her shoulder but, as she moved toward the door and he didn’t, she stopped.
“I think,” he said, though it was the last thing he wanted, “you’d better stay here.”
“No, Mac, come on–”
“We don’t know where he’s gone,” Mac said. “The answer might be at the condo and it might not. I’m going to go over everything. Try to gain some–”
“I am not waiting here,” she said, her gaze level. “I can help at the condo.”
Unfortunately, Mac knew that was true.
“It’s not what I want,” he said.
It’s what Scanlon wants.
“I helped to bring that baby into the world,” Isabelle said, her voice rising. “I am not going to just sit by. I can read something, anything.”
Even if she did read an object that could give them a lead, it wouldn’t be admissible. It wouldn’t even be grounds for another warrant. Tim needed a look at Daniel’s computers. He might very well find something that linked Daniel with the commune. Then they could serve a warrant at the commune.
Mac narrowed his eyes.
The commune.
He grabbed Isabelle by the shoulders.
That’s it.
“You already have read something,” he said.
She frowned at him, shaking her head.
“No. Daniel was watching. He–”
“Not there. Here,” he said. “The photo.” He grinned at her. “The commune. That’s where he’ll go.”
•••••
The level of stupidity was nothing short of astounding. Maurice could only gape at the improbable sight–their computer genius toting an infant in a car seat. Here. The only thing he could think to say was the obvious.
“You are an idiot,” Maurice said.
He was feeling his drink. Like he had the last few days, he’d called it an early night. He hadn’t exactly been expecting visitors, especially these ones.
“Now, wait a minute,” Geoffrey said. “Let’s just think about this.”
Maurice guffawed.
They’d shown up together: his brother, the great brain trust, and the computer dweeb. Neither with a single clue. The two of them stood together in Maurice’s office, across the desk from him. They had to stand since there was only one chair and Maurice was sitting in it, cocktail in hand.
“Good,” Maurice said, stifling his laugh. “You think about it.”
It’s over now. Truly over. There is no way to recover from this.
In a strange way, it felt liberating.
“Just put it back in the queue,” Daniel said, his face contorting in anger. “That’s why I brought it here.”
The baby started to cry but Geoffrey was the only one who looked down at the carrier.
“That’s why you kidnapped it,” Maurice corrected him, raising his glass. “Well done.”
He took a sip, careful to avoid the toothpick and olive. Say what you will, the vodka martini was timeless.
“Well,” Geoffrey said, over the infants’ mewling. “However it got here. Why not take advantage? Daniel’s right. List it on the web site.”
Maurice couldn’t help but snicker. The two of them. They were better than a comedy routine.
“Okay, sure,” Maurice said. “Is that before or after the police arrest him?”
“Arrest me?” Daniel said.
“Oh, no, no no,” Maurice said, holding up a hand. “My mistake. Arrest us.”
Finally, Geoffrey looked worried. He looked down at the carrier again.
“I’m the father,” Daniel said. “And–”
“And you have a document from the mother granting you complete custody,” Maurice finished, talking over him. “Oh, wait. You don’t?”
Maurice snickered.
“Maybe,” Geoffrey said. “We should all just calm down and put our heads together.”
Maurice had to laugh again.
Really. It was just all too funny.
“That would make,” Maurice said, laughing. “Wait. Let me count.” He pointed at each of them and then himself. “One brain between the three of us!”
He wiped a tear from his eye.
He hadn’t felt this good in years. It was the other shoe dropping. It was relief. He took another sip. It was an excellent martini. He looked at the two of them, waiting for their next joke. When it didn’t come and they looked at each other, he felt suddenly tired.
Tomorrow–he inhaled deeply–would be a very busy day.
“Go,” he said, exhaling and waving them off. “Just…go.”
He took another sip.
“What the fuck?” Daniel yelled as the baby cried again. “I came all the way out here with a guaranteed $25K,” he hefted the car seat slightly, “and you want to turn it down?”
“Maybe there’s something we can figure out,” Geoffrey said.
Maurice was starting to lose patience. For all he knew, the police were next, knocking on the damn front door.
“Get out,” he said.
Daniel’s face reddened and his eyes seemed to bulge.
“You do not want to piss me off,” he said. “Trust me.”
Geoffrey looked warily between the two of them.
“Trust you,” Maurice said, glaring at him. “Trust you to screw it up royally. Take your kidnapped son and get out.” Daniel’s glower had turned into a smug grin and, somehow, Maurice found that infuriating. “Get out!” he screamed. “Get out!”
•••••
Daniel jammed the seat belt into its holder, locking down the infant carrier in the back seat.
“Asshole,” he muttered. He slammed the BMW’s door closed and yanked open the driver door. “Fucking asshole.”
The baby was crying again.
“Shut up!” he yelled as he pounded the steering wheel. “Shut up!”
He started the engine.
“Well fuck them,” he said.
I’ll just sell it myself. I’m the one in control of the web site and the adoption group. Let them see what they think of that. But–he glanced in the rear view mirror at the baby–he’d need to buy formula or something. And diapers.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered as he threw the stick into reverse.
This was getting complicated.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ISABELLE HADN’T REALIZED the road to the commune was so dark at night. Then again, she’d never really seen it. When she’d last been here at nighttime, it’d been in the back seat of Mac’s rental with Kayla giving birth.
But up ahead, around a long bend in the road, light was moving through the trees.
Mac took his foot off the gas.
“Isabelle,” he said, quickly putting a hand behind her shoulder. “Get down.”
She ducked forward, hit the seat belt as it froze, then wriggled out of the shoulder strap. Mac unsnapped the closure on his holster. Light shone on his face, growing brighter, and though he squinted, he never took his eyes off the approaching car. One hand on the wheel, he quickly withdrew the gun.
Isabelle’s eyes
widened.
Maybe Mac should get down.
Bent forward, she could only see his face and the black night beyond his window. Just as she was about to say something, the trees that had been invisible just a few moments before suddenly flared to life, the light in the SUV brightened, and then everything went black again as Mac whipped his head around.
“That was Daniel,” he muttered, holstering the gun and hitting the brakes. “Hold on.”
Isabelle sat up just in time to grab the arm rest as Mac cranked the steering wheel over and they slid sideways. She lurched toward him, leaning wildly, as he suddenly straightened it out and hit the gas. The headlights swam in a cloud of flying dirt and then they were out of it.
“Did you see the baby?” Isabelle said.
“No,” Mac said.
He’d exchanged the gun for his phone.
“Lieutenant,” he said, quickly. “MacMillan here. I’m in pursuit of Daniel Allmand on Summerhill Canyon, headed to Topanga Canyon Blvd. I want road blocks set up on either end, one in Malibu and one in the valley. He’s driving a silver BMW 640 Gran Coupe, license number 7JUI633.” He listened for a moment. “Right. Will advise.”
He kept the line open as he gunned the engine. Up ahead, the tail lights swerved and a dust cloud flew up. The red glow disappeared for a moment but then reappeared. The brake lights brightened suddenly and then veered off to the left.
“Okay,” Mac said. “He’s headed to Malibu.”
•••••
Mac left the call open but put the phone in the center console cup holder and made the same left turn. As they squealed onto Topanga Canyon, he gripped the wheel in both hands.
“He might have the baby in the car,” Mac said, loudly.
“Ten four,” replied the lieutenant, slipping into comm jargon though it was just the phone.
Mac could hear radio chatter in the background.
“He’s going too fast,” Isabelle said quietly.
She was right. Mac glanced at his speedometer as Daniel’s tail lights disappeared around a curve.
Charmed (Second Sight) Page 6
