Find My Baby (18 page)

Waiting for the water to boil, Kayla let her mind wander once more to Sam. Where was he and who was he with?

She had to analyze and think up a plan, not dwell on the pain of separation.

But a thought crept in. What would her life be like without Sam? Just thinking such a thing terrified her. She pushed it away and looked out the window. The dawning light was beginning to outline objects, trees, houses, cars.

What was wrong with her car? One side seemed lower than the other. Frowning, she picked up a jacket hanging on the coat rack and slipped out the door.

A heavy mist hung in the air from last night’s rain.

Pulling the too-large jacket around her, she ran to the car. “How in the world?” she exclaimed. Two tires were flat. How had that happened? She hadn’t run over anything that she knew of.

Someone stepped out from the shrubbery that separated Aunt Nester’s from Rosie’s property. Dressed entirely in black, his hulking figure took Kayla’s breath away.

It was him!

Before she could run, he grabbed her, poked a gun to her head. The feel of steel against her skin made her go weak.

She struggled for a breath that wouldn’t come. The gun jammed tighter. She gasped a strangled cry. She was going to die. Sam would never be found.

She heard the gun click and shut her eyes.

They popped open when a voice rang out.

“Hey! Didn’t I tell you last night to stay out of my neighborhood?”

Kayla saw everything at once. Luke, gun in hand, sprinting toward them from the house. One of the kids from the morning she’d tried to leave Aunt Nester’s standing a few hundred yards away on the sidewalk. The killer didn’t see Luke. His attention was zeroed in on the kid.

Taking advantage of the distraction, she twisted out of the too-large jacket and shutting her eyes, dropped to the ground.

At the same moment, two shots rang out.

Kayla screamed over the deafening sound as fear lanced through her. Had Luke been shot? The boy? Or was it the killer? Her heart almost pounded out of her chest and was afraid to open her eyes.

Silence.

She opened her eyes slowly.

Nester and Rosie, still in their nightclothes, were running toward them.

The kid from last night was lying on the sidewalk. She saw blood. Her stomach lurched. He couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t bear it.

Slowly, she turned her head. The killer lay a few feet away. More blood. Where was Luke? Then she saw him hurrying toward her.

Swallowing hard, Kayla crawled to the man lying on the ground. “Where’s Sam?” she demanded. Taking hold of her would-be killer’s sweatshirt, she did her best to shake him. He was too big. The most she could do was pull his bulky shirt away from his body. “Tell me where my son is!”

As Kayla looked down at the stranger who had tried to kill her before and failed, he stared back at her with lifeless eyes. “No!” she screamed hitting him in the chest. “Damn you! Answer me! Where’s Sam, you bastard? Where is he?”

Luke grabbed her hands, forced her to stop hitting the lifeless chest. “Shh. Shh,” he crooned as he pulled her into his arms, held her tight.

“That’s the man we wanted to talk to and you killed him!” Her voice was a strangled cry. Fury turned full-force from the dead man to Luke. “How could you? We’ll never find Sam now! Never! And it’s your fault.”

Sobs tore through her; wrenching sobs. If only the man lying on the pavement could tell her what she most wanted to know. But he couldn’t. And she couldn’t hold back the tears. She’d held them back so long that she couldn’t stop. Their last hope lay dead at her feet.

“Stop it, Kayla,” Aunt Nester said when the gut-twisting cries continued.

Stepping in front of her niece, Nester snapped, “That’s enough!”

Kayla stopped sobbing, Nester took her by the arm, led her away from Luke, past the body lying close by. “We’ll find Sam, Kayla. Right now we have an emergency. We need your help.”

Kayla jolted back to the scene around her. Rosie and two strangers were bent over a body lying half in the street, half on the sidewalk. “The boy...?” she whispered, dreading an answer. Had another person been killed because of her? Dear God, no. The boy groaned and tried to sit up. Thank God, he wasn’t dead.

Before she could take a step toward him, Luke took her hand.

“I’m sorry, Kayla. I had no choice. He was going to kill both of you.”

She pointed to the young man on the ground. “Is that one of the boys…?”

“Joe Stefano. You saw him your first day here. If he hadn’t spoken up when he did, things might have ended differently. Stay here. I’m going to check on him.”

“Luke...make sure he’s all right.”

“I’m okay,” Joe groaned when Luke crouched down and asked how he felt. With a bullet in his shoulder, he couldn’t feel too swift, but his show of bravado didn’t falter.

“No, you’re not,” Aunt Nester said firmly. “Where’s that ambulance?”

“On its way,” Rosie responded, as she held a blue and white checked dishcloth to Joe’s bleeding shoulder. “Such a brave boy,” she whispered over and over.

“You’re a lucky young man, Joe. I hope you realize it,” Aunt Nester chided. His face was as chalky as the sidewalk. He looked at her and winced. “Your mom is on her way. She’ll be here any minute.”

Just then, a woman barreled out of a ten-year-old Ford pickup and ran toward them. “Joe?”

“I’m all right, Maw.”

“Joey!” She grabbed him, hugged his tall, lanky body close. Then she saw the blood. “Will he die?” she cried out, looking around at the concerned faces.

Nester patted her on the back. “It looks like a shoulder wound.”

“He’ll be fine once he gets to the hospital,” Luke assured the distraught mother.

Deep, heaving sobs tore through her.

“I told you I’m okay, Maw.”

His voice was weak and his mother wailed again. “You don’t look or sound okay. How many times have I warned that you were headed for trouble? Did you listen? Of course not. Now look at you.”

Kayla was safe when she could be dead. The thought made Luke shudder. He pulled her to him and held her trembling body.

What could he do to comfort her? He had shot their last lead. And the knowing was pure agony.

He looked at the killer. He was a huge man. A big head topped wide shoulders. Trunk-like legs didn’t jive with the man’s narrow waist and flat stomach.

“Will you be all right for a minute?” he asked Kayla.

Nester took Kayla into her arms. “I’ve got her.”

Luke had work to do. He pulled on a pair of gloves, knelt beside the killer and searched through his pockets where he found a rental car key and a magnetic card key for a room at a chain hotel along with a few hundred dollar bills clipped together. That was it.

His next job would be to find that hotel.

An ambulance pulled up just ahead of a black Suburban. Luke groaned as Clint Richards stepped out and headed toward them.

With his back to the oncoming FBI agents, Luke slipped the rental car key back in the killer’s pocket. The killer was obviously a professional. The car rental would be clean. But the motel? There could be something there. He palmed the magnetic room key. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find the right motel. Then he’d do his own search. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to take that desperately sad look off Kayla’s face.

“What happened?”

Richards’ sharp, nasal voice intruded on Luke’s plans, but he kept his face impassive as he removed his gloves, stood and turned. “Doing the job you promised to do, Richards. I thought you were going to put a man on Kayla.” He pointed to the dead man. “There’s your killer. He came close to getting her.”

“Why are you here? Thought you were off the case.”

“I am. But I took the threat to her life as serious, I’m not sure you did.”

Luke turned to leave. The sooner he could get on with his own investigation the better.

“Have you filed a report?”

“I know how to do my job, Richards,” Luke said tiredly. “Do you have a lead on the baby?”

His face grim, Richards shook his head.

Luke handed him a card. “Would you call me if you find anything? Anything at all? The mother’s about to go out of her mind with worry.”

“Will do,” Richards said, putting the card in his pocket, handing Luke one of his own. “We owe you on this one,” he pointed toward the would-be killer.

“Do you know him?”

Richards shrugged. “I have my suspicions.”

“I think evidence will show he killed Tanner and the kidnappers,” Luke nodded toward the gun in the killer’s hand.

“Sorry we screwed up on this. We were going to put a man on Ms. Hunter today.”

“A little late.”

“He,” pointing to the killer, “was a step ahead of us.”

“What about now?” Luke asked.

“The killer’s dead,” Richards said. “For the moment, she’s safe.”

Shaking his head, Luke went to Kayla and put his arms around her once more. She hadn’t stopped trembling. He had to get her out of here.

They watched the EMT’s put Joe in the ambulance.

“Are Joe’s injuries serious?” Kayla asked.

“I don’t think so,” Aunt Nester answered. “Rosie, we’d better meet them at the hospital. Irma might need us.” She turned to her niece. “Will you be all right?”

“I’m fine, Aunt Nester. Go. I’ll come by the hospital myself later. I have to tell Joe how grateful I am.”

Rosie hurried to her house. “Don’t leave without me, Nester.”

“Should I go with them?” Kayla asked Luke.

Luke watched the ambulance drive away, siren singing, lights flickering brightly. “With a little medical attention, Joe should be fine.”

Richards came over. “Can you tell me what happened?”

For the next thirty minutes, first Kayla, then Luke gave him the details.

“You’ll have to come in and make a formal statement,” Richards explained.

“Not now,” Luke said, taking her arm. “She’s pale and shaky and needs to rest.”

Richards gave Luke a long look. “Set her down, give her a glass of water, I’ll be in in a little while.”

Luke took her arm and went inside where he took out his cell phone. “Terry, there’s been a shooting at Nester’s. I need your help.”

Fifteen minutes later, Luke and Kayla were in Terry’s car, speeding toward the freeway.

“Where are we going?” Kayla asked.

“We’re going to beat the FBI to the killer’s motel room where I hope we’ll find something that will lead us to Sam.”

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m sorry, Kayla.”

“You saved my life, how can you be sorry for that? I think I’m angrier at my own stupidity for going outside alone like that. I really thought no one would find me, that we’d have to bait the killer.”

Reaching over, Luke squeezed her hand. “We’ll find another clue, Kayla, I’m sure of it.”

But would they? He’d just killed the one person who might lead them to Sam. It didn’t set well. He’d never killed a man before and wondered how long seeing the blood and the blank look in the man’s eyes would haunt him.

If there had been any other way, he would have taken it, but the killer was ready to shoot. Hell, he did shoot. Joe and Kayla were lucky to be alive. Would Kayla ever understand that he didn’t have a choice?

He twined his fingers with hers, taking comfort in the fact that she didn’t jerk away.

“Where do we go from here?”

Nausea hit him swift and hard. If they had the killer alive they could question him. They might not find where the baby had been taken, but they might have gotten another piece of the puzzle. He swallowed back the bile as his gaze shifted to Kayla. She was stiff with tension. It worried him. How much longer could she go on like this? He was well aware that she pumped her breasts several times a day to keep her milk from drying up. Even froze it for cripes sake. All for a baby they might never find. He ached clear down to his toes, understanding only too well, that if a person became accustomed to a loss they went numb. He didn’t want that for Kayla. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life only half-alive.

Think! Who would have enough money and power to take Kayla, keep her with her son for a month, then try to kill her? Her husband hadn’t any money. Evidently, neither did his parents. Anyway, they were all dead. So who?

A lot of people wanted babies and couldn’t have them, but the question remained, who would go to such lengths for Kayla’s son? It was clear that whoever took Sam wanted that specific baby. Which usually pointed to a family member. He was back to blood and genetics. Who was David Sinclair? What about his family? A distant relative maybe?

No matter how remote it sounded, it was time to follow up on that possibility.

First he had to trace the magnetic key and do a quick search before the FBI stuck their nose in. He prayed for a small lead, a thread, something to put them back on the right track.

Then he would have to show up at the FBI with Kayla and go to headquarters. He’d take the verbal dressing down he’d receive and not complain. He knew all too well that he broke protocol when he whisked Kayla away before the FBI was through with them.

His glance swept once more over Kayla. She was huddled against the door with her arms crossed over her chest. Luke didn’t know if it was to stay warm or to hold herself together. She’d lost it when she realized the killer was dead. It was the first time he’d seen her break. Her eyes had glistened a few times, but tears hadn’t fallen until today.

Luke hunched into himself. He was missing something vital and didn’t know what.

“I’m going to find Sam, Luke.”

Her voice, both quiet and firm, almost convinced him that they would find the infant. Luke wanted it to happen. His stomach did a pitch and roll and he prayed that Kayla’s strong determination and faith would beat the statistics.

When they arrived at the chain hotel they were looking for on I-45, he gave her arm a quick squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, as if speaking would be too difficult or take too much energy.

As he strode through the lobby door and headed for the desk, he wondered if he was doing Kayla any favors by keeping even a small thread of hope alive. He had to risk it. Even as he was risking his career, and realized that emotional involvement or not, he’d risk anything to put Kayla’s life right again.