Kidnapped at Christmas

by Barb Han

  Thinking with the beating heart in his chest instead of his hard-won intelligence was proof that he was losing his edge. He deserved the backlash.

  Another troubling email caught his attention. His lawyer said no one owned the house in Bay by the lake. It was owned by a conglomerate in the Cayman Islands. All that said to Wyatt was that some CEO, probably a wealthy guy in Houston, was using his company to shield ownership of the house on the water. Fine. Dealing with a businessman was much easier than a new mother. In that arena, he knew exactly what he was doing.

  He excused himself into the hallway and made a quick call to his lawyer, Alexander Kegel.

  “I got your email about the Bay property,” Wyatt said after perfunctory greetings.

  “How do you want to proceed?” his lawyer asked.

  “Find out who the company belongs to and which CEO is hiding behind it. Once you do, I need to find out what’s important to him or her.” Business was all about finding the right leverage.

  “Done. I’ll have a report to you in the morning,” Alexander said.

  Wyatt thanked his lawyer as he heard a voice coming through what sounded like a speaker in the room behind him. He turned to find five sets of eyes on him.

  “Ready?” Ed Staples asked.

  “Let’s get on with it,” one of the twins said, and his words were like fingernails on a chalkboard to Wyatt. Did he have any idea how little Wyatt wanted to be in this room with all of them? Clearly, the answer was no.

  His skin itched being inside Maverick Mike Butler’s home staring at four people who looked so similar. They had the same nose as their father, and Wyatt had instantly realized it was like staring at his own. It was all a little too close to home for his comfort. He wanted to know what Meg was doing.

  “I’m not sure why I let you talk me into coming here.” Wyatt looked squarely at Ed Staples. “I don’t want any of this.”

  With that, he walked down the hall and through the front door. He heard the click of boots on tile behind him, but he didn’t stop to find out who they belonged to.

  “Hold up a minute.” It was one of the twins.

  Wyatt stopped but didn’t turn to find out which one had followed him. He didn’t care.

  “Look, I know my, our, father didn’t do the right thing when he was alive, but—”

  “Save it.” Wyatt whirled around, staring into eyes that looked a little too much like his own. Déjà vu from earlier, from being with Aubrey, assaulted him. His sour mood intensified.

  The guy’s hand came up. “I won’t pretend that I know what this must be like for you because I don’t. I grew up with the man and, until recently, had the same look you do when anyone brought him up.”

  At least the guy was smart enough not to go down the road of wondering why Wyatt didn’t want to be there. That eased a little of the tension stringing Wyatt’s shoulders so taut they might snap. Business was responsible for at least part of his high strung emotions. But his thoughts also kept rounding back to Meg and that little girl.

  “I’m sorry for how this has all played out,” Dade said.

  Wyatt listened mostly because he didn’t want to come off as a jerk with someone who’d done nothing wrong. The man’s father was a whole other story.

  “Why not listen to what Ed has to say? Whatever feelings you have toward our—” he glanced at Wyatt and seemed to decide to change his tack “—toward Maverick Mike have nothing to do with him.”

  Wyatt’s brow shot up as anger burned his chest.

  “Really? Isn’t he here to speak to me on behalf of the man who walked out on my mother, leaving her to fend for herself?” Saying those words out loud hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Was that what he’d done to Meg? Was doing?

  This was different. She’d pushed him away. He’d been more than willing to stick around and do whatever was necessary to pitch in until this whole ordeal was sorted out.

  “We’re not trying to mess with you. We have no idea what the old man wanted to say, but it might not be his fault that your mother lived the way she did.”

  Those words were gasoline on a fire. There was no way his mother wanted to live in poverty, paycheck to paycheck, with no medical insurance and no security. No one could convince him that she didn’t want to be able to load the Christmas tree with presents every year instead of relying on the kindness of strangers through a church program. He was grateful—don’t get him wrong—but his mother would never have chosen the life they’d lived if she’d had another option. Sure, she was a proud woman. But there was nothing empowering about standing in line in twenty-degree weather during a cold snap on Thanksgiving morning in order to get a plate of turkey.

  “I don’t need any of this in my life. I’m done.” Wyatt swept his hand across the air.

  “That’s understandable under the circumstances,” Dade admitted. “But my father has surprised us more than once recently. He might have something to offer you, too.”

  “No. I don’t care about him. I don’t need anything from him or any of you,” Wyatt managed to get out through clenched teeth.

  “Then by all means walk away.” Dade started to turn.

  For reasons Wyatt couldn’t explain, he shouted, “I don’t want his money, either.”

  “Neither do I,” Dade countered. “But you know, life sometimes deals one helluva punch and you might just need a family to lean on.”

  “I’ve done all right by myself so far,” Wyatt ground out, thinking Dade was sorely misguided if he thought Wyatt needed a Butler to make his life complete. Meg came to his mind, but he quickly shot down that idea as mental treason. He had a successful business to occupy his time, more money than he could spend and a beautiful home in the hills outside of Austin along with several other homes in Texas. What more could any man ask for?

  Did he have regrets? Sure.

  “Then you don’t need to stick around.” Dade was walking a thin line. Wyatt thought about hooking a right fist over that left eye of his.

  But what did he care?

  Wyatt wasn’t now, nor would he ever be, a Butler. It was time to walk away.

  * * *

  MEG WAS UP before the sun. She thought about the list of names she’d sent the sheriff yesterday, hoping she’d covered every threat. Wyatt had stopped by again last night, but Meg had been sleeping so Stephanie left a note on her bathroom door—a note that Meg had read at two o’clock in the morning. Even then, her heart pounded thinking about him. She was tired and that was causing her to lose her mind.

  The Garza case needed her attention, but focus on work seemed as attainable as a hundred-carat diamond necklace.

  Thankfully, Aubrey was already fed and back to sleep. At two-months-old her routine consisted of feed, sleep, repeat.

  Looking down at her little girl, she couldn’t be upset about the amount of work an infant brought. Even facing Wyatt and delivering the life-changing news to him had paled in comparison to the horror of Aubrey being abducted.

  Yesterday had been the worst day of Meg’s life. She couldn’t even begin to process the thought of her baby disappearing forever. Hot tears burned the backs of her eyes.

  Coffee.

  She needed coffee.

  She wiped the moisture from her eyes and stalked toward the kitchen with one mission: caffeine.

  Before she took her first sip of fresh brew, Stephanie sauntered into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her hair looked like a lion’s mane, thick and golden. The waves highlighted her friend’s heart-shaped face and suited her.

  “What time did you get the little sprig to sleep last night?” Stephanie asked Meg.

  “It’s all a blur.” Aubrey came into the world weighing almost seven pounds and seemed determined to bulk up. The little angel ate almost every two hours on the nose—still. Meg had learned that she was far less conscious of los
ing sleep when she had no idea how much she was losing. “Been up on and off since then. How about you? How’d you sleep? I tried my best not to wake you.”

  “Me? I slept like a log. You must be exhausted after yesterday. I’d offer to take her out this morning so you could get some sleep, but I’m scared after what happened.” Stephanie wasn’t the type to back down from many things, so her attitude caught Meg off guard.

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Meg reassured. “I know you would never do anything to put her in harm’s way.”

  “Thank you. But she was with me when it happened. Of course, I feel responsible. If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.” Stephanie wiped at her eye and Meg figured she was swiping away a tear. She gave her friend some space.

  “You’re a good friend and the best aunt she’ll ever have,” Meg said.

  “I’m her only aunt,” Stephanie said through a half laugh, half sniff. At least she sounded lighter than a moment ago. Meg wouldn’t allow her friend to shoulder the burden of some random creep trying to take Aubrey.

  The thought gave Meg chills.

  “I still can’t believe you came home, fed her and worked out.” Stephanie faced her and took a sip of coffee.

  Meg gripped her mug. “Guess I just wanted to feel like something was normal again. Like I had some control of my routine.”

  “Did you remember anything about the sketch the sheriff showed us?” Stephanie asked and Meg shot a look. “Never mind. I can see by your reaction that you didn’t. I’m in the same boat.”

  Talking about the sheriff’s office brought more tension to Meg’s already tight shoulders. Working out had given her a speck of normalcy last night. Maybe discussing work, like they always did over their first cups of coffee, would do the same. “What about the Barber case? Did you get a chance to review the files I sent last week?”

  “Not yet. I haven’t wrapped up the St. James case,” Stephanie admitted.

  “What’s going on with that one?” Meg asked.

  “Looks like he might get off with probation,” she said on a sigh. They didn’t win justice for every case they took on.

  “It’s important that our clients know someone cares about them. We can still get them the help they need to change their lives even if the courts give him a free pass,” Meg reminded. She could see the defeat in her friend’s eyes. Neither one of them took losing easily and that’s probably why they both fought so hard for people.

  “He’s basically getting a slap on the wrist.” Stephanie made eyes at Meg.

  “This time. If he messes up with someone else it won’t be the same. He has a record now. He won’t get off so easily if he pulls anything like this in the future and that’s an important win.”

  Stephanie rocked her head in agreement. “True.”

  “You made a difference for Adrien and her daughters. Now we can give them the right tools to help break the cycle so they’ll have better lives.” When Meg took a hit on a case, Stephanie made it her job to pump Meg up and vice versa.

  “You’re right.” Stephanie offered a weak smile, but it was better than nothing. “I’ll do a workup on services we can connect Adrien to so that she and the girls can get on their feet.”

  Meg was grateful to talk about work for a change instead of the haunting image of someone trying to rip her daughter out of her arms. She walked over to the front door. “Did you check the mail yesterday?”

  “I forgot after all that happened,” Stephanie said.

  “I’ll do it.” Meg opened the door and walked onto the small porch. She glanced across the street and saw something she wasn’t ready to deal with this early in the morning, Wyatt’s truck. She jumped back inside, closed and locked the door. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Who? Where?” Stephanie glanced around like she half expected someone to be standing in the kitchen next to her.

  “Wyatt’s truck is parked across the street.” Meg searched for her cell. Where had she put it last night?

  Stephanie checked the window for herself.

  “At the empty house,” Meg provided.

  “That one used to be for rent.” Stephanie checked out the window and gasped when her suspicion seemed to be confirmed. “Where’d the sign go?”

  “What did he say last night?” Meg asked as she continued to unearth pillows, looking for the electronic device that held every important contact she had.

  “That he wasn’t finished and planned to stick around until you spoke to him,” she said.

  “You didn’t put that on the note.” Meg moved to the chair and dug her hands in the seam between the cushion and the armrest. Panic assaulted her.

  “Figured I’d tell you when I saw you.” Stephanie joined her. “What are we looking for?”

  “My phone.”

  “Oh. I saw that on the counter.” Stephanie motioned toward the kitchen.

  Meg must’ve set it down when she was in a hurry to make Aubrey’s bottle last night.

  Before she could find it, a knock sounded at the front door. Her pulse jackhammered against her ribs.

  “I’ll get it,” she said. For a split second, she wondered what she looked like. The thought was ridiculous under the circumstances. She had on yoga pants and a shirt. She ran her hand through her hair to smooth it down.

  Meg stalked to the front door and opened it, thankful she’d had at least one strong cup of coffee before facing Wyatt again.

  When she saw him standing there her traitorous heart galloped.

  “Meg, this is Dr. Raul. With your permission he’d like to perform a DNA test.” Wyatt’s expression was stone and his voice gave away nothing. He was steady as steel—just like his eyes—and part of her resented him for being so calm when his presence rattled her to the core.

  At least she’d told him about Aubrey. Her secret was out. He deserved to know that he was the little girl’s father. And there were so many other issues to deal with rather than obsessing over what his reaction might be today. And yet she was still hurt by his insistence on a DNA test. Was that silly?

  What had she expected? Him to take the baby from her arms before getting down on one knee and proposing they become a family?

  Right. That was about as smart as dumping acid in the garden and expecting flowers to grow.

  “She’s sleeping right now, but—”

  “There’s no need to wake her. I can use a strand of hair from a hairbrush or if you have a recently used bottle available that would work,” Dr. Raul said. He was a study in compassion with his rounded shoulders and kind expression. He held a bag in his right hand and she could guess the contents included a DNA sampling kit.

  “Fine,” she responded. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Six

  Meg opened the door and stepped aside to allow them access, ignoring the chill bumps racing up her arms from the burst of cold air. She walked into the kitchen, making eyes at Stephanie so her friend would know to stick around.

  Wyatt and the doctor followed her, and she didn’t like the way she could feel Wyatt’s masculine presence behind her when he seemed so unaffected by her. He didn’t say a word as the doctor went to work, gathering the bottle without touching the tip.

  “Who’s this?” Stephanie asked.

  “A doctor. Wyatt wants a paternity test,” Meg said as evenly as she could.

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Does he know you can get a test at the drugstore and be done in ten minutes?”

  “I didn’t ask,” Meg said with a slight smirk.

  “Excuse me if I don’t want to leave something as important as this to a dime-store test,” Wyatt said on a clipped tone.

  Meg didn’t offer coffee, mainly because she didn’t want them to stick around. As it was she had about an hour before it was time to feed Aubrey again, and she wanted to get in a hot morning shower to ease t
he tension trapped between her shoulder blades.

  “And now a swab from Dad,” the doctor said. The word dad had an unexpected effect on Meg and she started to tear up. She quickly turned her back to them and reached for the coffeepot. Her reaction most likely stemmed from the fact that she’d never known her own father. He’d ducked out on her and her mother before Meg started school. As much as she didn’t want Wyatt to be forced back into her life permanently, she also realized having an attentive father would be best for Aubrey. Based on his reactions so far, when the test came out positive she was going to have to make room for him in her life.

  After refilling her mug and getting her overwrought emotions under control—emotions that had been on shaky ground ever since the pregnancy, thanks to all those hormones—she faced them again.

  “Seems like you have everything you need,” she said, her gaze bouncing from Wyatt to the doctor to the door. If that wasn’t subtle enough, she took in a sharp breath and stared boldly at Wyatt.

  “Any chance I can get a cup of coffee before I go?” Wyatt asked, holding her gaze. Another dare?

  He’d conceded on the last one and she figured she was going to have to learn how to meet him halfway.

  She focused on the doctor. “Coffee?”

  “None for me, thanks. I have work to do.” Dr. Raul held up the specimens. “I’ll call with the results as soon as they come in.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Stephanie piped in, and that was not the kind of help Meg was hoping for. She didn’t want to be left alone in the kitchen with Wyatt and she couldn’t even pinpoint the reason why. Yes, he unnerved her. No, she didn’t think they had anything to talk about until he confirmed what she already knew. He was Aubrey’s father. Yet, he wanted to stick around.

  After the events of yesterday, maybe he just needed to know she was all right.

  Meg poured a fresh cup of hot brew and handed it to him, ignoring the frisson of heat when their fingers grazed. She’d give it to him that he looked good, even better than she’d remembered. But—and it was a big but—she’d always known he wasn’t the stick-around type, and the news she’d delivered yesterday had clearly knocked him off balance.