And the next baby would be hers.
SHE’D ALMOST SLEPT with him. Worse, it was five minutes to nine and she was monitoring the clock for him. Paulina ran her fingers through her still-damp hair, realizing she was trembling with nervousness. She’d stayed up too late, going over the file and thinking about what almost happened with Gil.
Well, almost meant just that—almost. It didn’t happen…and wouldn’t almost happen ever again. She’d make darn sure of it. He was her client for heaven’s sake. But that didn’t stop her pulse from kick-starting when she heard Gil talking with Andrea in the reception area.
“Hi,” she said far too happily, when he strolled into her office holding a mug of Andrea’s fresh brew in his hand. He was dressed casually today, in denim jeans and shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt weren’t fastened, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of the dark hair feathering his chest. She told herself he could not have selected that shirt for any reason other than it was hanging in his closet. “Did your parents arrive?” she asked, determined not to inquire how he slept.
“Yeah, my dad’s already complaining that the ramp I had built for his wheelchair isn’t the right slope and the doorway into the dining room is too narrow.”
Paulina smiled too brightly and fought the urge to hug him. “Sit down, I want to run a few ideas by you. It’s been bugging me that Jean-Luc quit the day before their trip to Reno. Why would he do that if he was only going on vacation?”
“Maybe he’d already used up his paid vacation time and his employer wouldn’t have given him the time off if he asked?” Gil suggested.
“Perhaps. Still, I find the timing interesting. It’s quite possible their only motive was to give Cindy a change of scenery. She had been under a lot of stress. Cindy may not have told you because she was worried about your reaction to the fact she’d found someone else so soon. Or they were running off to get married, because they were worried about you legally seeking custody of Mikey. I asked Robbins last night if Cindy was pregnant, but the autopsy report said she wasn’t, so we can rule out that possibility.” Paulina glanced at her notes to keep from dwelling on every distracting detail of his appearance.
“Not to change the subject,” she said faintly, “but do you remember seeing either Mikey’s name—or the word infant—typed on Cindy’s airplane ticket?”
He sipped his coffee, his brows knitting together. “I don’t think so. Is it important?”
“It makes me curious. Infants don’t need a ticket, but they’re still required to be on the passenger list.”
“Maybe Jean-Luc bought the tickets and didn’t know he was supposed to mention it.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But a hunch in the form of a knot in her stomach told her now was one of those times she should act on instinct. She jumped to her feet and tapped Gil’s knee as she rounded her desk. “Come on, coffee break’s over. Those tickets were bought at the travel agency in the Rideau Center. The mall will be open by the time we get there. It won’t take long to check it out.”
THE TRAVEL AGENCY KNEW exactly who had sold the tickets to Jean-Luc and Cindy. A homicide detective had just phoned, requesting the same information and the peppy heavyset agent was clearly enjoying the attention. Her flamboyant red-and-black silk kimono and flair for accessories suggested a predisposition for being center stage.
“I’ve never met a P.I. before,” the travel agent confided in a voice loud enough for everyone in the office to hear as she carefully examined Paulina’s license. “Do you know self-defense?”
“Yes. Could you tell me if the tickets were bought by phone or in person?”
“Why, in person.” The woman rested her elbows on her desk and leaned forward. “The couple came in with their baby—a darling boy. He looked a lot like my son, Roger, at that age.” She pointed toward a row of school photos tacked to her cubicle. “That’s Roger now. He’s nine.”
“He’s very handsome,” Paulina murmured politely. “Was the infant put on the mother’s ticket?”
“Oh, no. I asked if the baby would be accompanying them and she told me her mother would be watching him.”
“Her mother?” Paulina’s heart skipped a beat. Gil looked stunned. Cindy supposedly hadn’t been in touch with her family for years.
“Yes. This was going to be an adult-only getaway.” The agent lowered her booming tone. “I thought they were lucky to have a grandparent willing to baby-sit for two weeks. The most my husband and I ever got out of our parents was an evening. Not even a weekend!” Her expression grew suitably solemn. “Of course, they aren’t lucky now, with both of them dead.”
Paulina tapped her gold pen on her notepad. “Did Cindy mention anything else about her mother? Like her name or where she lived?”
“No. I told Detective Robbins the same thing. It’s very strange. How could her mother have the baby and not come forward?” The agent toyed with a silver heron suspended from a chain around her neck. “Do you think people ple can have premonitions that something bad is going to happen? The baby’s mother seemed so anxious about being away for such a long period. She had her arms locked around the baby the whole time they were here. Her husband reassured her everything would be okay, but now I wonder if her maternal instinct was warning her something terrible would happen. That happened with me once with Roger.” Before the woman could relay her story, Paulina asked what date the tickets had been purchased.
“August twenty-seventh. They booked three weeks early, to get a cheaper fare. He came in and picked up the tickets. He paid cash.”
Paulina thanked the woman for her time.
“What do you think?” she asked Gil as they cut through the mall toward the street exit.
“I don’t know whether to feel more worried or relieved,” Gil replied, shaking his head. “How could Cindy’s mother have Mikey? She didn’t keep in touch with her parents. Could they have meant Jean-Luc’s mother?”
“That’s what I was thinking. People don’t always recall conversations accurately—they relate the gist of things and they embellish to make the telling a little more interesting.”
They stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change. The sky was overcast this morning. A chilly breeze swept down the narrow brick street and ruffled the skirt of Paulina’s dress. She hugged her arms across her chest and took an unconscious step nearer to Gil’s warmth. She wanted desperately for Mikey to be safe and sound in the care of Jean-Luc’s mother.
“If they left Mikey with Jean-Luc’s mother, why was the diaper bag still at Jean-Luc’s?” she asked Gil. “And why was the stroller found with Cindy?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” he muttered grimly in her ear. “But I get your point.”
The walk signal flashed and Paulina felt Gil’s guiding hand rest on her back as they merged with the crowd crossing the street. How could such an insignificant gesture send sparks of awareness showering through her?
Paulina hopped onto the sidewalk. If she walked fast enough, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with her, much less act like a gentleman. To her irritation, he moved to the curb, no doubt protecting her from reckless drivers. “Well, Robbins talked to the travel agent before we did,” she said, growing breathless from her relentless pace. “You can be sure he and the other major-crime-unit detectives are contacting Jean-Luc’s next of kin and tracking down Cindy’s parents. They can find the information faster than I can. We’ll call Robbins as soon as we get to my office. Maybe he’s received the autopsy report on JeanLuc.”
At least once they got back to her office Gil was on the other side of the desk from her. A safe distance. Paulina put Robbins on the speaker phone so Gil could join the conversation. Robbins informed them the Edmonton police were searching for Cindy’s parents. The coroner wouldn’t have the autopsy results ready until later in the day. And they’d obtained Jean-Luc’s mother’s name and telephone number in Quebec City from his personnel file at the community center. Investigators were closin
g in on the address. He promised to call the moment he had news.
“So what do we do in the meantime—sit here and wait?” Gil asked, rubbing his forehead. His features were taut with tension.
Paulina tossed him her file. “Start reading this for inconsistencies. It could give us a new lead. I’m going to call that pregnancy counseling clinic. I never got around to it yesterday.” She punched in the number.
“Hi, this is Mandy Steinberg. I have a message to call an Elvira—or Elva it looks like…at this number. Sorry, I can’t make out the last name. My secretary’s handwriting is terrible.”
The receptionist laughed. “You must mean Elva Madre. She’s one of our counselors.”
“Great, could I book an appointment with her today?”
“I’m sorry, she’s full this morning. She’s taking a half day off and is leaving at noon. She has an opening October tenth in the afternoon.”
“Don’t you have anything earlier?”
“Sorry, she’s going away on holidays. Shall I pencil you in for the tenth?”
“No, thank you. She has my number. I’m sure she’ll be in touch.” Paulina hung up and glanced at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. They’d have to hurry to catch Elva before she left. She pushed back her chair and opened the bottom drawer of her desk. “Gil—”
“I know, let me guess. We’re going somewhere.” He was already on his feet.
She wrestled the drawer for her purse. The darn strap was caught on something. “How did you know?”
“I’ve been hanging around a P.I. and I’m getting good at interpreting her signals.” He had the impudence to grin.
Paulina yanked her purse free, rattled by the sexy confidence in his smile. Lord help her if it was true. She just hoped he’d received her signals about what almost happened last night—loud and clear.
PAULINA WATCHED THE minutes tick away as Gil maneuvered through lunch-hour traffic to the counseling clinic in the Glebe. Thanks to his expert driving skills and several close shaves on yellow lights, he dropped her at a bus zone with seconds to spare before noon, then raced off to find a parking spot. Paulina hurried into the clinic.
With unfeigned breathlessness, she told the receptionist she was a friend of Elva’s. “I was hoping to catch her before she went on holidays. Please don’t tell me I’ve missed her?”
“No, she’s still here. Her last appointment just left Her office is the third door on the right. I’ll buzz her if you like?”
“That’s not necessary. I want to surprise her.” Paulina flashed the receptionist a grateful smile and cleared out before the receptionist asked for her name. A woman of medium height and heavy around the hips was locking the door of the office Paulina was seeking. Her mousy hair, liberally laced with gray threads, was cut short. She wore a calf-length flowing dress and a crocheted ecru cotton vest. She turned when Paulina asked if she was Elva Madre. Her thick lenses made her blue eyes appear enormous.
“I’m Elva.” Her soft, compassionate voice suited her occupation.
Paulina dug into her purse and showed her ID, explaining the details of Cindy’s death and Mikey’s kidnapping. The counseling center probably had strict rules about confidentiality, too. But Paulina hoped Elva would bend the rules under the circumstances.
“I’m aware of the woman’s death,” Elva admitted, moving down the corridor. Paulina thought she saw an uneasy flicker magnified in her eyes. Or was it the glare from the overhead fluorescent lights? “I saw the news last night. Have the police found the baby yet?”
“No. I know Cindy talked to you when she was pregnant with Mikey. One of Cindy’s friends told me you worked with her.”
“What a shame,” Elva said sadly. “After all Cindy’s indecision and worrying it would come to this—a murdersuicide. You’ll really have to excuse me, Ms. Stewart. I’m running late—and I don’t see how I can help you, anyway. The clinic has a stringent confidentiality policy.”
Paulina kept stride with the counselor. “I understand your policy,” she replied with equal equanimity, lowering her voice as they crossed the waiting room. “But I’m trying to assist Cindy’s family in finding her baby. It would help my investigation if you could confirm when you last spoke to Cindy?” Was it the exercise of pushing the lobby door open or the cool wind brewing outdoors that suddenly turned the counselor’s cheeks red?
“Excuse me,” Elva said in a dismissive tone, turning south down the street.
Paulina doggedly followed her. “Ms. Madre, the likelihood of finding Mikey diminishes with each passing second. I know for a fact you spoke to Cindy recently. Did she tell you she was leaving town with her boyfriend JeanLuc? Or mention who she planned to leave Mikey with? Her mother? Another relative? A friend?”
“Really, Ms. Stewart. I’d like to help, but I can’t.”
“I don’t believe that. How can you live with yourself, knowing that your deliberate silence may be preventing an infant from being reunited with grieving family members?”
“I have no comment.” Elva’s lips pressed tightly together as she darted into a pay lot and let herself into a rusty blue Volvo.
Paulina memorized the license plate number as Elva drove off, her brakes squealing and her muffler rattling ominously. Damn! Why did she have the feeling Elva knew more than she was telling? It would take a subpoena to get that woman talking, and meanwhile the clock was ticking.
Paulina recorded the plate number and Elva’s name in her notebook, placing a question mark beside the surname Madre. She’d be very interested to know who that car was registered to. She’d worked on a case in Mexico once, and if memory served correct, madre meant mother in Spanish. Paulina didn’t believe in odd, little coincidences.
She looked up at the sound of a horn blaring. Gil’s car was blocking traffic. He must have seen her leave with Elva and had followed. He rolled down the passenger-side window and called for her to hop in.
Paulina glanced down the street and sighed. Elva’s Volvo was nowhere in sight. They’d missed a perfect opportunity to follow her. She climbed into the car. “I didn’t get anything out of Elva,” she confessed, trying not to let her frustration show. Gil needed her to be strong and optimistic. She flashed him a brief smile. “Maybe the autopsy results will be available when we get back to my office.”
Gil nodded, his attention on the road. “I was thinking about the diaper bag and the luggage in Jean-Luc’s car. We should ask the police whether the suitcases contained Jean-Luc’s stuff, or Cindy’s and Mikey’s, too.”
Paulina dropped her hand to his knee. “Good…” The instant her fingers made contact with his firm thigh, her voice trailed off. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to touch him, wasn’t going to get near him, and here she’d instigated the contact. She pulled her fingers away quickly as though she’d touched hot coals. Gil, blessedly, didn’t seem to notice.
He used his car phone to check in with his parents. Paulina found herself wondering what they were like. Did Gil take after his mother or his father—or both?
When he’d finished, she directed him to a burger place for food to go. They could eat at her office. A growing sense of urgency pressed at the base of her spine, and experience had taught her not to dispute it.
Andrea informed them, when they arrived, that Robbins hadn’t called back yet.
“Why don’t you go on your lunch break now?” Paulina suggested. “We’ll be in for a while.” She grabbed a breaded chicken sandwich from the bag, then told Gil he could pull his chair up to her desk to eat, while she hunted down a couple of books.
She found a Spanish dictionary and a baby name book in the reference library, which was an avoidance term for her dad’s old office. She still hadn’t got used to her dad not being around, but at least she felt his presence with her like a guardian angel looking over her shoulder, guiding her in the right direction. She hoped he was exerting a little heavenly intervention now. She needed his patience and wisdom to find Mikey. And to keep her from making a fool of he
rself with Gil.
Gil glanced up when Paulina entered the room as if she were running a race. Didn’t the woman ever stop? Not that he wasn’t grateful for her single-minded devotion to Mikey’s case, but he wouldn’t be upset if she sat down for five minutes to eat her lunch. He’d already downed one of his two double-decker burgers.
“What are those for?” Gil asked, eyeing the books in her hand.
“I wanted to look up Elva Madre’s name, to satisfy my curiosity.” The pages of the baby book crackled crisply as Paulina hunted down the counselor’s name. “Aha,” she nearly crowed, her eyes gleaming like silver moonlight. “Elva means good counselor.” She picked up the smaller book, which appeared to be a dictionary, and thumbed through the pages, her dusky pink lips pursed in concentration.
Gil couldn’t budge his gaze from her mouth, remembering the way she’d bared his chest last night and licked his pectorals. And bit him. He stiffened instantly. The air turned thick, making breathing difficult. The soft, clinging knit dress shot with metallic gold thread that Paulina wore shimmered suggestively when she moved. The dress showed every luscious curve and hollow he’d been denied last night.
She tapped a page with her index finger, pulling him sharply from the lustful bent of his thoughts.
“There it is. Madre means mother in Spanish. I knew that name had to be a fictitious name.”
Gil didn’t question how she knew it. He merely accepted her gift as amazing.
The phone rang, startling them both. Anxiety stole Gil’s appetite as Paulina reached for it. Was it the autopsy results?
“Hi, Karl. I was hoping you’d call.”
Gil frowned at his French fries. Wasn’t Karl Paulina’s ex-husband? He glanced away to give her privacy, but not before he noticed the color seeping into her cheeks. For some reason that blush rankled him. Was she still in love with Karl? Gil hoisted himself out of his chair to leave the room, but Paulina waved at him to remain seated.
“You’ve got what?” Her voice rose with excitement. She grabbed a pen and started writing furiously. “Where? When? That’s fabulous. Thanks, Karl. I owe you big-time.”
This Little Baby Page 11
