The Baby Scheme

by Jacqueline Diamond

  Then the full meaning of her words sank in. “That wasn’t your byline on the articles. When exactly were you fired?”

  “Yesterday morning.”

  “Office politics, you said?”

  “Something like that.”

  He’d seen police investigations snarled by competing jurisdictions and rival egos, so it made sense that this happened at newspapers, too. “Who are you writing for now?”

  “Like I told you, myself,” she said. “I’m working on speculation.”

  Kevin couldn’t suppress a twinge of sympathy. “If I were to give you a place to sleep—and I haven’t made up my mind about that—you’d have to promise not to publish anything until the case is completed. And you could never mention my name or my client’s.”

  “I don’t know your client’s name.”

  “That isn’t the point.” Another angle bothered him. “The problem is, if these adoptions do turn out to be illegal, my client could still lose her child even if we nail the extortionist.”

  “I suppose so,” Alli agreed. “But it seems to me the blackmail angle needs to be handled first, because that’s the most pressing. Besides, we only have his say-so that there’s a problem with the adoptions, right?”

  Kevin saw no reason to withhold his data, since he’d confirmed what Mary had told him. “Unfortunately, it’s true. The orphanage is under investigation in Costa Buena for buying and selling babies, although nothing’s been proved.”

  “Are they going to try to take the babies back?” she asked.

  “I don’t believe they’ve gone that far yet.”

  “Don’t you think you should find out for sure?”

  “Are you telling me how to do my job?” he snapped.

  She scooted away before replying. “Just pointing out the obvious.”

  Angrily, Kevin stood up. “Forget about moving in with me. If you’re afraid to go home, stay with friends.”

  “You need me,” she said.

  “I think it’s the other way around.”

  “Well, yeah. That, too. Look, I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers.” On her expressive face, he saw a hint of desperation. “Isn’t there anything I could do to persuade you? Clean your house? Wash your car? Walk your dog? I love animals, by the way, if you happen to have any.”

  “I don’t.” It would be cruel to keep a pet when he worked such long hours.

  “I can answer the phone and cover for you if there’s someone you don’t want to talk to,” she proposed. “Although I suppose your secretary does that.”

  “More or less.” After hours, his mother was likely to quiz the caller to find out if he or she had an eligible daughter. Heloise also promoted his services shamelessly, even to people soliciting political donations or selling restaurant-coupon books.

  His mother. The thought reminded Kevin that a bevy of single and divorced women had been given carte blanche to hound him a mere twenty-four hours in the future.

  He had options, such as fleeing to Palm Springs or locking his doors and refusing to answer the phone. But either of those choices would interfere with his work. Also, he did need the interview with Dr. Abernathy.

  “There is one thing,” he added.

  “You got it!” After a heartbeat, Alli added with a note of uncertainty, “What exactly?”

  “Go to a party with me tomorrow night,” Kevin said.

  Chapter Three

  The cottage, painted dove-gray with blue shutters, had a reserved air softened by flowering bushes along the edges of the porch. “Cute house,” Alli said as she followed Kevin up the walk.

  “Thanks.” He’d slung her duffel bag over one shoulder but hadn’t made any macho noises about how she should leave everything to him, so she was lugging her suitcase and computer.

  He plucked a couple of envelopes from the mailbox before opening the door and punching in the security code. The place smelled nice, Alli thought in surprise, catching a whiff of cinnamon instead of the aged sweat-sock odor she associated with bachelor pads.

  Inside, the house appeared bigger and brighter than she’d expected. Off-white carpeting and pale yellow walls heightened the impression of spaciousness, aided by the scarcity of furniture—no couch, just four comfy chairs that swiveled to face either the entertainment center or the fireplace.

  Alli, who’d grown in up in apartments, didn’t understand why a guy would want to rent an entire house, but she wasn’t foolish enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. Kevin had agreed to let her stay for the weekend and hadn’t demanded sex, so how could she complain?

  Not that she considered sex out of the question. The guy looked hot from any angle. She liked his powerful build and the fact that, at roughly five-eleven, he would make a perfect dancing partner, neither towering over her nor bumping his head against her chin.

  She hoped there’d be dancing at tomorrow’s party. He’d refused to tell her anything about the party, however. She hadn’t packed fancy clothes, but she’d brought a pantsuit that ought to do. Besides, his friends were probably cops who’d take way too much interest in ogling her legs if she displayed them.

  “My office is this way.” After tossing his mail on an end table, Kevin headed through a doorway. “The sofa doesn’t open into a bed, but I never promised you the Ritz. I’ll find you a blanket and a pillow, though.”

  Alli’s idea of a home office featured a desk assembled from a discount-store kit, a dented file cabinet and piles of books and papers. By contrast, this room could grace a decorating magazine.

  She admired the built-in oak shelves along one wall, not to mention the ultraneat computer-printer center and the sleek desk and chair. But where was the clutter? And how could he expect her to stretch out on that flimsy yellow-and-white striped love seat?

  “This place must have come furnished.” She turned slowly, taking in the cheery decor. “A guy would never buy stuff like this.” Or else he’d get scuff marks all over it in about five minutes. “Your landlord certainly trusts you.”

  “I’m my landlord,” Kevin returned levelly. “I bought the furniture at an estate sale. They sold me a whole houseful, except for the front room. Somebody else beat me to that.”

  “You own this place?” A private detective shouldn’t reek of stability, Alli thought. She preferred the movie typecast of a grubby guy who lived in a hole in the wall and recycled his coffee grounds. Well, not too grubby; borderline shaggy would suit her fine.

  “My grandparents left me a little money. I decided to do something sensible with it.” Shrugging out of his suit jacket, Kevin draped it over the back of a chair.

  “Blowing it on a trip to Europe would be sensible,” Alli said. “You’d have memories to last a lifetime.”

  He positioned her laptop on a blotter, careful not to scratch the desk’s gleaming surface. “You mentioned you’ve got a virus. I might have some software to clean it up.”

  “It’s not exactly a virus.” As Alli plopped her suitcase beside the love seat, she decided not to complain about the inadequate sleeping accommodations. For one thing, Kevin could still change his mind about letting her stay here. Also, after making several moves with her mother, she’d learned to be flexible.

  “So what is it exactly?” He’d flipped the case open, switched on the power and begun scrolling through the computer’s innards.

  “Don’t hook it up to the Internet!” Alli said.

  “Okay, I won’t. What’s going on?”

  She found another chair and stuck it beside the desk. For heaven’s sake, she didn’t see a coffee cup or an empty potato-chip bag anywhere. How could a person function among such neatness?

  “A guy at work sneaked in a program to capture my keystrokes,” she explained. “Anything I write shows up on his computer.”

  Kevin stopped poking around, although, since the device wasn’t online, he had nothing to fear. “He stole your story?”

  “You got it.”

  “That explains why some other guy’s byline was on y
our story about the mayor?”

  Alli nodded.

  “Is he the reason you got fired?” he asked.

  “Bingo.” She filled him in about the assistant managing editor boosting his nephew’s cause and the managing editor wanting to put his stamp on the news operation. “Basically, they didn’t believe me because they didn’t want to.”

  “How come you don’t sound angrier?” Kevin inquired.

  “Because it wouldn’t do any good.”

  “I never thought of you as the passive type.”

  In Alli’s experience, most guys would have leaped to her defense, maybe even tried to take over her problem, or gone the opposite route and assumed she was at fault. She liked the way this man waited for her response without trying to put words in her mouth.

  “I’m not passive. I’m realistic,” she told him. “My mom spent ages being bitter after Dad dumped us.” That was a rather personal detail to reveal to someone she scarcely knew, but she’d learned that being open about the past helped take the sting out of it. “Finally she figured out that living well is the best revenge. She’s been much happier since she let go of her anger.”

  Kevin eyed her suitcase. “You call this living well?”

  “Hey, I landed in a nice place, didn’t I?” Alli quipped. “Anyway, I plan to take the laptop in tomorrow to have it debugged.”

  He tapped one finger on the desktop. “I wouldn’t be in such a hurry.”

  “Why not?”

  “We might be able to make creative use of this situation.”

  “You have a devious mind.” She grinned. “That raises all kinds of interesting possibilities.”

  “Let’s save it in case we really need it,” Kevin said. “In the meantime, I’ve got an old laptop I was keeping for spare parts. It’s slow but it still works, and I cleaned all my files out of the hard drive.”

  “You’re letting me stay in your house but you don’t trust me with your files?” she said.

  “I have a responsibility to protect my clients from unauthorized intrusions, even accidental ones.” Kevin shut her laptop and set it aside. “By the way, you should put password protection on this thing. That will keep your colleague’s paws off it in the future.”

  “He’s not my colleague anymore. And thanks. I’d love to borrow your laptop.”

  “I’ll drag it in from the garage later. Also, you should put your car in there in case our shooters decide to cruise around looking for it,” he said. “Now, let’s listen to Dr. Abernathy.”

  “Sure.” From her bag, Alli produced the minicassette and recorder. “I made a transcript if you want a copy.”

  “I’ll take one later. First I’d like to hear him for myself.” He turned on the tape.

  As Kevin listened to the recording, he half closed his eyes in concentration. At this angle, she noticed the sharpness of his cheekbones and the strength in his jaw. He looked like the kind of man a woman could depend on, or maybe the kind she believed she could depend on until push came to shove.

  Alli would never make that mistake. Not about any man.

  KEVIN LIKED THE WAY Alli handled the interview on the tape. Her supportive comments and well-thought-out questions encouraged the doctor to trust her.

  His own police-style approach had its strengths, but warming up reluctant subjects wasn’t one of them. Also, he conceded, an attractive young woman had to be more appealing to a guy.

  Alli got under way by saying she was writing a story about local people who’d adopted children from Central America, then proceeded to cite the doctor’s good reputation in the community and praise his desire to help infertile couples. Put at ease, Abernathy related how he’d never considered becoming involved with adoptions until he took on a younger partner eight years previously.

  “Dr. Graybar volunteers at the El Centro Orphanage. After we’d been partners for a while, he suggested we find homes for some of the children,” the man informed her in a deep, reassuring tone.

  The doctors had started slowly and informally. As demand increased and they began serving referrals in addition to patients, they’d hired a full-time adoptions coordinator.

  “That side of our practice just kept growing,” he said. “There’s a lot of need in our community and among the children of Costa Buena. Of course, we try to help patients have children of their own, if that’s what they’re seeking. Providing first-quality medical care has always been my primary mission.”

  Doctors Abernathy and Graybar were obstetrician-gynecologists, not fertility specialists, he explained, but they conducted initial workups and offered low-tech treatments that sometimes took care of the problem. More difficult cases were referred to nearby Doctors Circle, a women’s medical center whose staff included internationally known fertility experts.

  However, some patients decided to go straight for adoption, fearing the fertility treatments would prove a costly and frustrating ordeal. Others returned a few years later, still childless and more desperate than ever to become parents.

  “I was glad to offer them a range of options,” he continued. “Frankly, I’m happy to leave the whole high-tech infertility business to others, but Randy’s more aggressive. He felt we should keep up with the latest procedures so we wouldn’t lose our most challenging cases and, in addition, he wanted to ‘market’ adoptions to a larger clientele. Those were his terms, not mine.”

  “Wouldn’t that tax the resources of a two-man office?” asked Alli’s taped voice.

  “I thought so. He disagreed. That’s part of the reason I decided to retire about six months ago,” the physician conceded. “Randy and I didn’t see eye to eye on a number of issues, although I certainly respect him. I enjoy playing golf and taking trips with my wife, and this way he can find a new partner or partners who think the way he does.”

  “Has he found someone?” she asked.

  “He’s interviewed a few, but I don’t think any of them have worked out.”

  Listening between the lines, Kevin wondered why Dr. Graybar couldn’t find a new associate. Did his setup make other doctors leery for some reason?

  “Let’s talk more about the adoptions,” Alli said. “Did you run into any problem areas?”

  “Quite the opposite.” Her subject waxed lyrical about the outcomes. He took pride in the fact that they’d been able to place some special-needs youngsters as well as to find babies for what he half humorously referred to as special-needs parents.

  “There’s so much demand for adoptions that agencies often rule out people who would make fine mothers and fathers,” he explained. “Sometimes they’re over forty or have a chronic health condition or perhaps a minor criminal record that’s long in the past. We tried to look beyond that. Even so, all our parents had home studies, so you can be assured we weren’t placing children in unsuitable situations.”

  Alli asked how much money the adoptions brought into the partnership. “It’s quite lucrative,” Dr. Abernathy admitted, “although there were additional expenses for us, like hiring a counselor. Most of the fees went to the orphanage and officials in Costa Buena.”

  Kevin wondered how big a part the money had played in Dr. Graybar’s push to expand the clientele. He had no objection to anyone turning a profit, but he was receiving a questionable impression of the younger doctor.

  Kevin made a note to examine the man’s financial background and to check out the counselor, as well. Both of them had entrée to the adoption records, which meant either could be involved with the extortion.

  As the tape continued to roll, Alli probed for more details about the orphanage. However, Abernathy claimed his partner had been the one who maintained contact. The prospective parents also saw the facilities, since they had to travel to Costa Buena and complete paperwork before bringing their children home.

  “I never went there,” he said. “Everyone reported the place to be clean and pleasant. A little disorganized, but the kids were well fed and the caretakers showed plenty of affection.”

&
nbsp; The interview ran for nearly forty-five minutes before Alli mentioned the investigation and the blackmail demand. The doctor, sounding astonished, asked twice whether she was sure the woman had adopted through his office, and then concluded, “She should go to the police. That’s intolerable.”

  It was the kind of reply Kevin would expect from an innocent guy. In his experience, a guilty one was more likely to bluster, suggest that the informant must be lying or fly into a righteous rage.

  “What about the blackmailer’s allegation that the orphanage is involved in baby selling?” she asked.

  “I don’t believe it. And I’m receiving the impression you haven’t been entirely honest with me, young lady.” His tone became crusty. “Is that why you came here? To make accusations?”

  “I’m just trying to understand the situation,” Alli replied.

  “How do I know you won’t twist what I’ve said to make me look bad?”

  Kevin sympathized, because he’d had exactly that experience with a couple of reporters in the past. That was why he’d been so hostile to Alli.

  “I try to be fair and accurate,” she explained.

  “I have only your word for that,” the doctor replied. “This interview is over.”

  After a few unsuccessful protests, the recording ended. Kevin wished she’d asked whether Dr.Abernathy still profited from the adoptions. But he probably wouldn’t have answered.

  If Kevin had the resources, he’d have liked to hire an investigator in Central America to probe the orphanage, but that seemed out of the question. His goal was to help Mary Conners keep both her son and her life savings, which meant he had to find the extortionist as simply and inexpensively as possible.

  One suspect had already become evident. “Several things bother me about Dr. Graybar,” he said.

  “Like the fact that no one has jumped at the chance to join his practice?” Alli asked, stretching her long legs beneath the desk. When her knee bumped his, she shifted lazily away. “Or the fact that he’s the one who initiated the adoption project?”

  “Both.”

  “That reminds me, I’ve been meaning to find out whether he’s related to our former lieutenant governor.”