This Little Baby

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This Little Baby Page 4

by Joyce Sullivan


  Paulina beamed at Andrea, wishing Gil weren’t present so she could give her an unbusinesslike hug. “You did great.” Andrea’s cheeks turned pink. “Can you write up a report now while it’s fresh in your mind and leave it on my desk? Mr. Boyer and I are headed out again.”

  Paulina scooped up the diner receipts, removed the pictures of Cindy and Mikey from the case file and tucked them into her purse. She waved at Gil, who was sitting in his chair as if in a stupor. Paulina wondered fleetingly how much sleep he’d had lately. Obviously not enough. “Come on, we’re outta here.”

  “Where are we going?” he asked, rising slowly to his feet.

  “To lunch. It’s two o’clock and I’m starving.” She patted her purse. “I have just the place in mind—one of Cindy’s favorite hangouts. With luck, we can feed our faces and our curiosity at the same time.”

  Chapter Three

  Paulina eased into a family-size turquoise-and-salmon booth and cast an appreciative glance at the decor. Joe’s Diner served up the food, the tunes and the nostalgia of the Fifties, right down to the chrome jukeboxes on the tables. Richie Valens was currently crooning a dance invitation to a girl. But Joe apparently drew the line at poodle skirts and saddle shoes for the waitresses. His employees wore turquoise bowling shirts and jeans with short black aprons tied around their waists.

  A woman in her mid-forties with ginger hair swept high up on her head in beauty-parlor curls and impossibly black eyelashes told them her name was Francine as she passed them menus. “Could I get you folks something cool to drink? How about a soda or a root beer float?”

  Paulina didn’t even glance at the menu. Memory and the colorful placards on the walls touting the availability of thick milk shakes, home-cooked meat loaf and blue plate specials had her stomach growling in anticipation. She hadn’t been here for at least two years—not since her dad had died. It had been their Tuesday take-out lunch spot. “I’ll have a chocolate shake and a BLT, please,” she said.

  Gil ordered the cheeseburger special and a vanilla shake and informed the waitress the bill would be going to him. “This place is stuck in a time warp,” he confided, his gaze flicking toward the old-fashioned counter where the milk shake machine whirred noisily. “Makes me feel like I’m on a date in high school. Kingston—the town where I grew up—has the same kind of ‘other era’ feel to it.” He paused, a hint of red creeping into his features. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything untoward there. I realize this is not a date. Far from it.”

  Paulina laughed, trying not to dwell on the implication of his words. “Forget it, no offense taken. I’m sure your significant other wouldn’t take offense, either.”

  “There is no significant other.” His blue eyes held hers for a moment and Paulina felt goose bumps rise on her flesh.

  She rubbed her arms. Had air-conditioning existed in the Fifties? Joe was overdoing it.

  Fortunately Gil took the initiative and changed the subject. “So, when do you start asking questions about Cindy and Mikey?”

  “After we eat. I perform better on a full stomach.”

  Francine arrived with their lunch and the conversation came to an abrupt halt. By the time the waitress reappeared to clear their plates, Paulina was ready for action. She caught Gil’s eye. “Really, sweetie, I don’t understand what happened to Cindy. She said she’d meet us here for dessert at two-thirty and it’s after three now. It’s not like her to be late. I knew something was wrong when she didn’t answer the phone.” Paulina glanced at Francine. “Excuse me, maybe you can help us? Has a blond woman with an infant been in here in the last hour?”

  Francine laughed and reached for the plates. “Sugar, we get a lot of women and babies in here all day long. I don’t know one hour from the next when we’re busy.”

  “Of course.” Paulina pulled the photo out of her purse. “Maybe this will help. My boyfriend and I are from Hanover, and we’re driving through to Halifax. We called Cindy a couple of weeks ago and made arrangements to meet here. I tried calling her last night and this moming to confirm, but there wasn’t any answer.” She touched the photo. “And I was hoping I’d get to see her baby. I haven’t seen him yet.”

  Francine peered down at the photo. Paulina wasn’t sure, but she thought a strange expression flitted over the waitress’s face. Her black lashes hooded her clear blue eyes, reminding Paulina of a doll’s eyes.

  “Why sure, I know Cindy,” the waitress admitted. “She’s a regular, but she hasn’t been in today. Last time I saw her was last week—Wednesday morning, as a matter of fact. She probably just forgot your appointment.” She paused tactfully. “You know, things have been rough on her since her man died.”

  “Yes,” Paulina agreed. “Losing Ted in that terrible accident was such a shock. Now she has to raise Mikey on her own.”

  Francine collected their soiled cutlery and stacked the dirty plates. “Well, it don’t help none that Ted’s brother is trying to get custody of the baby.”

  Paulina nudged Gil under the table to keep him from responding and blowing her cover, but she was too late. Francine had already noticed the dark, rebuking frown on his face.

  “Say, is that who you are—Ted’s brother? I thought you reminded me of someone.” The cutlery clinked as it landed on the plates. “You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to take a baby away from its mother. It’s no wonder Cindy isn’t answering her door to you.”

  With a haughty sniff, Francine departed. Two minutes later she came back and slapped their bill on the table. “Don’t bother leaving a tip.”

  Paulina tried to salvage the situation. “Please, you’re getting this all wrong. Gil doesn’t want custody of the baby. We’re here because Cindy’s disappeared and—”

  Francine rudely cut her off. “Save it for the judge. It’s Cindy’s life and her kid. It’s a free country. She can do what she wants.”

  Gil watched the waitress stalk away and felt as though she were tramping his hopes of finding Cindy into the linoleum. “Damn, I blew that,” he admitted, finally daring to face Paulina. She was annoyed and trying hard to cover it. The fiery white gleam in her silver eyes gave her away. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry,” she told him, kind enough to be gracious. “There are three other servers. If Francine knew Cindy, chances are the others did, too. Stay here while I ask around.”

  Gil recognized he was being told to butt out. She made quick work of talking to the other servers, which meant Francine had probably blabbed in the kitchen. That fact was confirmed when a guy the size of a refrigerator approached their booth. “I hear you’ve been questioning my employees about one of my customers.”

  Gil cast a glance at Paulina. She was talking to a waiter at the cash register. He’d have to handle this beefcake himself. Gil slid out of the booth and stood, offering the man a good look at his physical condition in case he had trouble on his mind.

  “Are you Joe?” Gil held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. This is a great place you’re running.”

  The man ignored Gil’s hand and folded his brawny arms across the white extra-large chefs apron covering his expansive chest. “Why are you bothering Francine?”

  “I’m sorry if I upset your waitress, Joe, but I’m pretty upset myself. My brother was killed in an accident six weeks ago, leaving behind a wife and a five-month-old baby. My sister-in-law is so distraught that she’s gone off God knows where with the baby. I know Cindy comes in here a lot, so I was hoping someone had seen her lately—maybe talked to her the last time she was in.” Gil squared his shoulders. “I don’t know what Francine told you, but all I’m trying to do is honor my responsibility to my brother and his family. Surely you can understand that? If your sister-in-law suddenly disappeared with her baby, you’d be combing the woods for her, too.”

  Joe, if that was even his name, appeared to be considering what Gil had said. His charcoal eyes, at least, seemed less hostile. Gil smiled uneasily at Paulina as she joined them. He introduced her. “Th
is is a private investigator I hired to help me find them.”

  Paulina flashed Joe a friendly smile and showed him the picture of Cindy and Mikey. “Francine said she was in last Wednesday.”

  Joe nodded. “That’s right. Come to think of it, she did seem upset.” His eyes zeroed in on Gil suspiciously. “You sure you aren’t trying to get her kid?”

  Gil felt as if he were walking a tightrope. Sweat slicked his forehead. Was the guy going to tell them anything or not? “I’d like to lead a woman to the altar before I consider becoming a parent.” He considered adding that he hadn’t even met a woman worth booking a church over, but Paulina smoothly intervened.

  “Are you sure it was Wednesday?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m sure, because she sat in the back section—where the stroller don’t block the aisle—and talked to Ed for quite a while. Ed’s some kind of salesman. He comes in on the second Wednesday of the month like clockwork.”

  Paulina took a pen and a notepad from her purse. “Do you know Ed’s last name—or what company he works for?”

  “Sorry, can’t help you there. I think he sells tools or hardware. Something like that.”

  Great, Gil thought, choking back a wave of frustration. There were probably fifty Eds working in tools or hardware across Canada.

  Paulina looked up from her note taking, her gray eyes thoughtful. Suddenly her expression brightened and she gestured toward the door with her pen. “I noticed you have a fishbowl by the cash register for people to toss in their business cards for a free lunch. Mind if I have a look? Maybe Ed hoped he’d get lucky—”

  “Be my guest,” Joe said. “Just don’t go calling all my customers.”

  They thanked Joe. Gil picked up the tab and threw a modest tip on the table, then cupped Paulina’s elbow and led her to the cash register. “Thanks,” he said under his breath, leaning his head close to hers. “You bailed me out—again.” The fragrant scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils.

  “No, I didn’t,” she whispered back. “You were doing fine on your own.” She smiled up at him and he realized that beneath her toughness dwelled the soul of a compassionate and caring lady.

  She plunged her hands into the fishbowl and pulled out the top two inches of cards.

  A victorious smile lit her delicate features as she held up a white business card imprinted with a screw logo. “This has got to be it. Edison Tweedie. Sales rep. CW Hardware.”

  Gil’s spirits rose, as did his respect for the woman beside him.

  “They’re based in Mississauga,” Paulina added, writing the information down in her notebook. “We’ll call from my office.”

  Gil nodded sharply and jerked the door open for her. If their luck held, maybe Edison Tweedie would lead them to Cindy and Mikey.

  CW HARDWARE HAD PUT HER on hold. Paulina nervously doodled figure eights on the legal pad on her desk. Gil was braced against the doorjamb of her office, his potent eyes boring into her. Her heart thrummed unsteadily, which seemed to be its normal pace since Gil had walked into her office this morning. What had she been thinking—making that ridiculous deal with him? She should have—

  A woman suddenly came back on the line and told Paulina that Edison Tweedie was currently on the road and she didn’t know why he wasn’t answering his car phone. Possibly he’d already stopped at a motel for the night.

  Paulina stifled a sigh of disappointment. “When do you expect to hear from him?”

  “Well, I’m not sure.” The woman hesitated. “He’s already checked in for today. According to his itinerary, his next scheduled stop is with a Home Hardware in Winnipeg at nine-thirty tomorrow morning. I could give you the phone number of the store and you could try reaching him there—though you should keep in mind they’re an hour behind our time zone. Other than that, I suggest you keep trying his car phone—or I can pass him a message to contact you the next time he calls in.”

  “I’ll try to contact him first,” Paulina decided. “What’s the number of the store?” A few minutes later she thanked the woman for her help and hung up the phone.

  “Let me guess,” Gil said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ed Tweedie’s not available.”

  “Not until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. He’s on the road to Winnipeg—”

  “Well, then…” he cut her off. “Come hell or high water we’re going to be in Winnipeg to meet him when he gets there.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost five. We shouldn’t have any trouble catching a flight.”

  Paulina stared at him in amazement, not the least bit thrilled by the way he’d made the decision without asking for her opinion. Is that why Cindy ran away? Paulina wondered fleetingly. Gil was like a steamroller, charging ahead to get the job done. He was so consumed with guilt and his own good intentions he’d probably never stopped to listen to what Cindy had to say.

  She rose and gathered her notes and Cindy’s file into a briefcase. “I agree, going to Winnipeg is a good idea,” she said, stressing who was in charge of this investigation. “Tweedie may be more helpful if I talk to him in person. I keep a bag packed upstairs in my apartment for occasions such as this. It won’t take but a minute to grab it. Or would you prefer to meet at the airport?”

  The corners of his mouth spread in a wide grin that revealed even white teeth. “No, I don’t wear pajamas, and they sell shirts and toothbrushes at the airport. I’ll wait—and we’ll take my car.”

  She nodded, more disturbed by an image of Gil wearing nothing but that sexy smile than by his insistence that they use his car. “You might as well come up with me so Andrea can lock up,” she said. He followed her into the reception area, where she gave Andrea instructions to check the post-office box for a reply on the Watson case. Paulina also told Andrea she could take a well-deserved day off tomorrow, since Paulina wasn’t sure when they’d be back from Winnipeg.

  Paulina tried not to be aware of Gil dogging her heels as she turned into the brick-paved carriageway between Stewart Investigations and the Mangia restaurant. A black wrought iron gate secured a tiled recessed stairway leading to her apartment.

  Her living room felt stuffy with humidity, the receding late-afternoon sunlight creating a pattern of light and shadow on the Devonshire cream walls. Her tastes ran toward the simple and eclectic. She’d taken the apartment when she and Karl split up, preferring its convenience to work. No more long drives into Ottawa from the suburb of Orleans. She left Gil in front of the antique pine cupboard that housed the collection of thank-you gifts she’d received from searching parents, to run a comb through her short hair and freshen her lipstick. Then she pulled her small overnight bag from the closet.

  “Here, I’ll take that for you,” Gil offered, as Paulina returned to the living room, her heels clicking on the old pine floorboards. He reached for her bag, his fingers brushing innocently against her shoulder.

  Paulina drew in a sharp breath as the sensation registered along her nerve endings like an electric shock. She backed away from him in alarm, experiencing an unaccustomed sense of panic.

  Gil was getting too damn close to her for comfort.

  THE FEELING ONLY intensified once they were on the plane. Gil had purchased first-class tickets, and despite the extra space and wide seats Paulina felt as though every atom of her body was attuned to Gil’s powerful presence.

  She slowly sipped her ginger ale and hoped Edison Tweedie could give them a clue as to where Cindy had gone. Paulina wasn’t sure how much more of this case she could take. When had she last taken a vacation? Not since her divorce had been made final a year ago. She didn’t dare dwell on how long it had been since she’d made love—not with Gil’s sensual male charms so close by.

  Gil’s voice intruded into her thoughts. “I noticed a wedding picture in your apartment. How does your husband feel about you jetting off with clients?”

  Paulina choked on her soft drink and started to cough, becoming more flustered when he gave her a sharp pat on the back. She waved away his offer of assistance
. The last thing she needed was him touching her. She knew the picture he meant. It was one of the few she had of herself and her dad together. Did he think she’d married a man old enough to be her father? The fact he seemed interested enough in her personal life to ask sent a wild thrill racing through her.

  “He didn’t mind when we were married,” she said when she finally felt capable of speech. “That was my father you saw in the tux. My ex-husband is an RCMP officer, so he knew what investigations involve. He was more concerned with the fact that I was away—than whom I was with. It’s difficult enough to plan a home and family life around a police officer’s schedule, without trying to factor in the unpredictability of my job. Our expectations of each other weren’t in sync with reality.”

  “That’s too bad,” Gil murmured. “But it’s true, having a family requires an enormous amount of time and financial commitment. Ted sure wasn’t ready to shoulder the responsibility. But at least Cindy was able to quit work and stay home with Mikey.”

  Paulina fell silent, aware of the drone of the aircraft in the background. Her father had introduced her to Karl, and she’d married him believing he of all people would understand her erratic schedule and her commitment to her work. Things had been great for a couple of years, until her father had died and Karl had started dropping hints that she should ease back on her workload—or better yet close the agency—so they could start a family.

  She glanced sideways at Gil, wondering why someone who so easily shouldered family responsibility didn’t already have a wife and three kids. She couldn’t resist teasing him—if only to reverse the downward turn of his mouth. Were his thoughts slipping back to Ted again? “So, what’s stopping you from jumping into marriage and a family?”

  “Me? I haven’t found the right significant other yet.” He was teasing her back.

  Curiosity got the better of her. Surely there were plenty of attractive women out there who’d gladly take on the job of being Mrs. Gilbert Boyer.

 

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