The Cop's Missing Child

by Karen Whiddon

  Emily shook her head. “Anything is possible, I guess.”

  Leaning over, Jayne patted her hand. “Then a DNA test is the only way to go. It makes sense.”

  Finally, Emily gave up her futile attempt to get some nourishment. Her queasy stomach wouldn’t allow her to eat anyway. “I can’t risk it.” Leaning forward, she decided to confide in her best friend. “I’m seriously thinking about packing everything up and leaving town in the middle of the night.”

  Jayne’s mouth fell open. “No, you can’t.”

  “It may be the only way I can keep my life from falling apart. I’ve got to protect Ryan.”

  Before she’d even finished speaking, Jayne had begun shaking her head. “Don’t you want to know the truth? If Ryan really was stolen from Mac, then he is his son. There’s nothing you can do to change that, and furthermore, Mac deserves to be in Ryan’s life. It’ll be best for both of them. Surely you two can work out some sort of arrangement.”

  She was right. Emily closed her eyes, still feeling sick. “So what do I do?” she whispered. “I’m so afraid.”

  “You have to believe Mac just wants a relationship with Ryan, not to take him away from you. He’s not a monster.”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said bleakly. “He slept with me to get closer to my son.”

  Jayne gasped. “He...what? Seriously?”

  “Yes.” Emily closed her eyes. She dropped her lashes to hide the hurt. “I actually thought we might be beginning a relationship. I can’t believe I was that stupid.”

  Jayne squeezed her hand. “Let’s be proactive rather than reactive. Even though it’s the weekend, let’s get Ed involved and go talk to Renee. Don’t forget that they still have Desiree and Franco in custody. I have a feeling she’ll be in her office.”

  “Why?” Emily shrugged in resignation. “What good is that going to do?”

  “First, I think you need to talk to Franco and Desiree yourself, in person. Second, we’re going to make Mac tell Renee about his personal involvement in this. I’m betting she doesn’t know.” Jayne gave her a determined look. “We’ve got to get to the bottom of this once and for all.”

  She nudged Emily, half hug, half push. “Sweetheart, it’s time to pull out all the stops and find out who is your stalker and what, exactly, they want before something worse happens and someone gets hurt.”

  * * *

  She despised him—and rightly so. Mac called himself seven kinds of fool all the way home. He hadn’t meant to spill his guts the way he had. It went to show how sex could mess with a guy’s brain. That had to be it. He’d been feeling all warm and cuddly and even thought he and Emily might have started something worth preserving—and not just for the sake of his relationship with his son.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t try to run. Hell, he wouldn’t blame her if she did.

  Hating like hell the way he was shaking, he put in a call to Renee. “I need to talk to you. I haven’t been entirely honest....”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, her voice steely and decidedly unfriendly. “I’ve got Emily Gilley and Ed and Jayne Cooper here in my office.”

  His stomach clenched. “They’re already there?” That had been fast. He could scarcely wrap his mind around the events of the past few days. Everything had begun to run together. Once, everything had seemed so clear-cut. Now, he no longer knew what he wanted.

  “Yes,” Renee answered, “and you’d better come in right now. Emily is very upset. Understandably so. We have quite a bit to talk about, don’t you think?”

  Inhaling deeply, he knew she was right. After all, he wasn’t the only one with secrets that needed to be revealed.

  “I’m on my way,” he said, concluding the call. He’d put his truth out in the open, and now the time had come for Emily Gilley to do the same.

  * * *

  Inside Renee’s office, Emily felt torn. While Renee spoke to him on the phone, she paced. “I’m not sure I’m up to seeing Mac. Not right now,” she protested, wishing she didn’t feel as if her heart had splintered in half. “Not yet. Not after what he did.”

  “You have to, sweetheart,” Jayne murmured, grabbing her and putting her arm around Emily’s shoulders. “This is a neutral place. It’s all for the better.”

  Pretending she didn’t see the long look that passed between Ed and Jayne and Renee, Emily took a deep, shuddering breath. “Let me go check on Ryan.”

  “He’s fine,” Renee put in. “Eva and Charlie are watching TV in the break room with him. I’ve got one of my assistants in there keeping an eye on all of them.”

  Emily nodded, aware of both anticipation and dread. When Mac had told her who he was and what he believed to be the truth, again she’d had to fight not to react on impulse. Trying to stand still, to deal with this latest crisis was a new form of torture, especially when every protective mothering instinct she had screamed at her to grab her son and run—fast and far. She knew she could disappear in another state, another small town. After all, she’d done it once before.

  But eventually, as it always did, her past would catch up with her. In this instance, she knew Mac would not rest until he found her again. And she couldn’t blame him.

  Because, whether she agreed with him or not, he truly believed Ryan was his son.

  “Do you think he is?” Renee asked bluntly, almost as if she’d read Emily’s mind. “Ryan’s father, that is.”

  “I have no way of knowing.” Emily paused to catch her breath, her misgivings threatening to turn into full-blown panic. “I know nothing of my son’s history or parentage. I’ve always understood that the adoption was arranged through a private broker my former husband contacted.”

  Renee waited, apparently aware Emily hadn’t finished speaking.

  “There’s also Desiree and Franco.” Emily inhaled. “For the longest time, I’ve believed that my husband fathered Ryan with one of his mistresses. I’ve suspected she is my stalker—Ryan’s biological mother.”

  “Desiree?” Renee watched her with a keenly observant gaze. “In other words, you think your former husband is Ryan’s true father.”

  “Yes.”

  “That all makes sense, too,” Jayne breathed. “And the mistress could have resented giving up her son, so she’s the one threatening you.”

  Emily nodded. “Even though this all happened in New York, I think she might have followed me here to Texas to try and get Ryan back. Though why she won’t admit it is beyond me. She keeps talking about some jewelry.”

  “Maybe she plans to blackmail you,” Jayne put in. “Have you considered that?”

  “That’s another possibility,” Renee agreed.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Emily closed her eyes. “And here I was actually feeling sorry for her, thinking she might have been forced to give up her baby. If she’s planning to try blackmail, she’ll soon figure out that I have nothing. You can’t get blood from a stone, so if that’s the case, she’s way off base.”

  “Then Mac comes along and says he’s the father.” Renee’s lips thinned. “What a nightmare.”

  Relieved that someone actually understood, Emily spoke with quiet, worried firmness. “Yes. Mac’s story came out of nowhere.”

  Jayne rubbed the top of her back, no doubt trying to console her. Knowing if this continued, she might choke up—or worse, dissolve in tears—Emily moved away. She gave her friend an apologetic look as she went to stand as far away from the door as possible. There wasn’t room to pace or she would have done that instead.

  Clearly not understanding, Jayne moved also, taking a place at Emily’s side. At the move, Emily felt a rush of gratitude. She’d never had a friend like Jayne, someone willing to have your back no matter what.

  Just as Emily was attempting to compose a way to tell Jayne how much that meant to her, Renee stood. “Why don’t you and I go have a chat with Desiree? Just the two of us.”

  Once again feeling a discomforting sen
se of finality, Emily found herself nodding. She stepped away from Jayne, her head held high. “Lead the way.”

  Following Renee down the long hallway to the back part of the sheriff’s department, Emily mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say to the woman who might or might not be the mother of her son.

  “I think you might have a private word with Franco, too,” Renee said, her tone conversational. Something about the too-casual sound of it made Emily stop and look at her.

  “Just me?”

  With a shrug, Renee flashed a rueful grin. “Both Desiree and Franco have hired lawyers. They won’t even say boo to me. But maybe they’ll be different with you.”

  Though her heart had started pounding and her mouth had gone dry, Emily nodded. “If one of them is responsible for making my life a living hell, then I’d like to know.”

  “Good girl.” Renee’s grin widened as she patted Emily’s shoulder. “Here we are.”

  As they paused at the metal door, Emily caught herself wishing that Mac was by her side, which surprised her. She supposed she’d need time to get used to the idea that he had become her enemy.

  “This is where we’re holding Desiree,” Renee said as she unlocked the door.

  “I’m not sure I want to be alone with her,” Emily admitted.

  “Oh, you won’t be. I’ll be standing right by the door watching, though I won’t participate in any discussion you two might have. All right?”

  Since she didn’t appear to have a choice, Emily nodded.

  Desiree looked up as they stepped inside, her hostile expression not boding well for the chance of any meaningful conversation.

  “Emily wants to have a word with you,” Renee announced.

  “I have nothing to say to either of you.” Desiree sneered, her gaze sweeping over Emily disparagingly before returning to Renee. “Leave me alone.”

  Though Renee’s jaw tightened, she didn’t respond.

  Taking a deep breath, Emily stepped into the room. A small holding cell, the room had the basic necessities—a cot, a chair, a sink and in the corner a toilet with a plastic shower curtain that could be pulled around for privacy.

  Perched on the edge of the cot, with her extensive makeup still intact, Desiree wore the petulant and wounded look of a martyr. “My lawyer says I’ll be out of here as soon as court opens up Monday morning. So go away, and quit bothering me.”

  Ignoring her, Emily took another step closer. “I want to talk to you about my son.”

  Desiree’s perfectly shaped brows rose. “You have a kid? Carlos never mentioned that to me.”

  Stunned, Emily stared. “How long were you two together?”

  Waving a languid hand, her scarlet nails flashing, Desiree smiled. “Two years,” she said proudly. “He’d just left my apartment the day he was murdered.”

  Though this statement probably should have bothered Emily, she’d long ago come to terms with Carlos’s multiple infidelities. Briefly she wondered if Desiree knew she’d been one in a long parade of others, then decided nothing would be gained by mentioning that.

  “You don’t know about my son?” Emily asked softly, not sure whether to believe her.

  Emphatically, Desiree shook her head. “I don’t like kids. Why do you care what I think about your son anyway?”

  “No reason.” Glancing back at Renee, who stood with arms folded near the exit, Emily dipped her chin to indicate that she’d finished.

  “You’re really stupid,” Desiree said as Emily prepared to leave the room. “And I know you have my jewelry. I’m not leaving until I get it back.”

  Turning, Emily met the other woman’s gaze straight on. “I don’t have any jewelry. Everything was sold to pay off Carlos’s debts.”

  Desiree narrowed her eyes. “You sold my necklace? That was my price for giving Carlos the ultimate gift.”

  “Ultimate gift?” Emily froze. “What exactly did you give him?”

  But Desiree’s expression had shut down. “None of your business. Leave me alone.”

  Once out in the hallway, Emily exchanged a look with Renee. “I don’t know what to think about her.”

  “I think she’s telling the truth.” Renee frowned. “She doesn’t know anything about Ryan.”

  “Maybe not, but what ultimate gift did she give Carlos? Do you think she could have given up her baby?”

  Renee eyed her for a moment before slowly nodding her head. “I suppose it’s possible, but what matters to us right now is if she did she doesn’t want him back, I don’t think she’s your stalker.”

  Emily wanted to protest but didn’t. Renee wouldn’t understand why she still wanted to know if Desiree was Ryan’s birth mother. Then again, maybe she would. After all, if that was the case, Mac’s claim to fatherhood was completely misguided.

  Oddly, this thought didn’t make her feel any better.

  “Are you okay?” Renee asked, concern plain in her eyes.

  Emily nodded. “Let’s go talk to Franco.”

  This time, when she stepped into the small room, after a quick, rage-filled glance, Franco refused to even look at her. Every attempt at conversation was met with “talk to my lawyer.”

  After the fifth response, Emily shrugged and motioned to Renee that she was ready to go.

  As they were walking back to Renee’s office, Mac arrived. He strode through the front door, his powerful, well-muscled body moving with easy grace. His closed-off expression gave nothing away. Emily glanced at him, trying like hell to study him dispassionately and wishing her heart still didn’t skip a beat when she looked at him.

  The same hopeless attraction flared—even now that she knew he was her enemy.

  Seeing them, he stopped, indicating with a sweep of his hand that they should precede him. As they filed into Renee’s small office, everyone in the room stared at him, including Emily.

  Devilishly handsome, the air of isolation around his tall figure might have been only her imagination—or not, considering the hostility with which everyone in the room regarded him.

  Those piercing sapphire eyes locked on her. “Emily.” She noted he kept his hands at his sides, clenched into fists. Who was he angry with—her or himself? Why did she even care?

  For the space of a heartbeat, she stared back at him, struggling to find the right words. It turned out there were none.

  He measured her, his look cool and appraising. She studied him back, unable to keep from drinking up his powerful male beauty with her eyes. As if he knew, for an instant his impossibly blue gaze sharpened. Her traitorous pulse quickened in an involuntary response.

  She should have hated him for what he’d done to her, the way he’d made her have hope and desire again when she thought she never would. But as a mother, she could understand the depth of the love that drove him—love for a child he’d never known. If Ryan really was his, how could she even think to take his son away from him now?

  Yet how could she bear to give up her baby?

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his words meant only for her, his expression grim. She shriveled inside at his words, aware she could not accept his apology. How could she, when she didn’t even understand why he bothered to make it?

  “I trusted you.” Her voice broke. Even worse, she knew he could read the hurt and accusation in her eyes. More than anything, she wished she could turn her heart cold, change it to stone, so this raw, primitive grief wouldn’t overwhelm her.

  Once again, as though she sensed Emily’s inner agony, Jayne put her arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and giving Mac her best back-off-from-my-best-friend glare. Emily loved her for that.

  Clearing his throat, Ed shuffled his feet awkwardly, clearly wishing he was somewhere else, anywhere else.

  “Emily? Are you all right?” Renee stood like a weary Amazon, her desk her shield, looking from Emily’s little group to the man standing alone near the doorway, his handsome face a dark mask.

  With her throat closed up, Emily could only nod, which apparently was
enough.

  “All right, then. Why don’t we start with you?” Renee said to Mac, before including the others in her sweeping gaze. “I think we all have a right to know the truth. Are you the one who’s been terrorizing Emily here?”

  Mac blinked, his mask slipping for a moment to reveal shock. “I... No. I have no idea who that is.”

  “Obviously, this person believes he or she’s the boy’s natural parent,” Renee continued. “I’ve talked to Joe, and he admits that neither of you have found any conclusive evidence proving that you’re the father, either.”

  At that, Emily felt the weight on her chest lighten somewhat.

  “Why don’t you tell me—us—what exactly are your reasons for believing Ryan is your son?” Renee asked.

  Mac shifted his weight, hesitating as he measured her for a moment before inclining his head. He watched Emily, clearing speaking directly to her. “As you know now, your husband was under investigation. The Feds were watching him. NYPD was helping. They asked my partner, Joe, to be a part of that investigation. He’s a whiz at anything electronics related, one of the best in the country. He was on loan from the Albany P.D.”

  “So?” Crossing her arms, Renee regarded him the way she might regard a hostile witness. “What has all that to do with any of this? Get to the point.”

  Mac met her gaze, unblinking. “I will. Joe was there when my wife died. Hell, he helped pull her out of the wrecked car. He was at the hospital when my son was born.”

  One corner of his mouth twisting upward in a grimace, he continued, his voice bleak with sorrow. “Joe also was there in Manhattan, watching via hidden cameras, the day your adopted son appeared—exactly one day after my own baby was stolen.”

  Emily’s heart dropped into her stomach. She could only imagine how he must have felt. Somehow, from somewhere, she found her voice. “While I’m sorry for your loss, you still haven’t given me a valid reason to believe that my son was—is—your missing baby.”

  Pinning her with his gaze, a swift shadow crossed his face. “Joe recognized him. When he saw Ryan, he called me immediately, though doing so was against protocol. He swore the kid was a dead ringer for my missing son.”