Find My Baby (20 page)

Luke shook his head, but didn’t answer.

“Let me guess,” the captain frowned. “You’re involved with the mother?”

Luke didn’t answer. Instead he stood and paced the small space, sat back down.

The captain continued, “Kayla’s situation is tragic. She may be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in years. You want to tear at whoever did this to her. Emotions that are all understandable.” He leaned over the desk, stared Luke in the eyes. “But none of them give you the right to break the rules. They’re there for a reason.”

When Luke didn’t respond, Captain Jensen continued. “Look at it from her standpoint. Right now, you’re the knight in shining armor. You’re the dragon slayer. Just look at what you did today. She’s going to look up to you, admire you, think of you as her savior. But what happens when this is over? Whether you find her child or not, will she have those same feelings a year from now? Ten years?”

Luke cleared his throat. Made sense. Still, Luke couldn’t control the rash of emotions that swept through him at the mere thought of Kayla.

Despite the way Kayla responded to his kisses, he didn’t know what she felt. When this was over, whether they found Sam or not, she might kiss him off. It didn’t matter. He would do his damndest to help her now.

“I’ll handle it,” he promised, knowing that nothing his boss said would change his feelings.

“How’s the boy?”

“Joe? I’m going by the hospital to check on him. I think he’ll be fine.”

“It’s a miracle he isn’t dead.”

“It’s a miracle he showed up when he did. If not, it could be Kayla in the morgue now instead of a hired gun.” Just echoing the thought made his heart stutter. He couldn’t lose Kayla.

“Take it easy, Luke. You’re doing the best you can. The FBI is on the case and even though I don’t think much of Richards, they usually do a good job.”

“Somebody better,” Luke growled. “Whoever wants Kayla dead isn’t finished. If the FBI is going to protect her and find her baby, they’re going to have to do better than they have so far.”

Chapter Seventeen

The house was empty. Aunt Nester was still at the hospital with Joe and his mother. Kayla had sent Jackie out to pick up more baby bottles.

It was so quiet it made her nervous. Since she’d come to her aunt’s there had always been someone about; Aunt Nester in the kitchen cooking up one of her wonderful pastries or another pot of soup; Rosie popping her head in several times a day. But now it was strangely silent.

Kayla wrapped the throw around her a little more tightly. The house was warm, but she was chilled to the bone, her mind wandering through the recent weeks.

She’d almost been killed. It had happened so fast. One minute there was an arm around her neck, a gun to her head. Then there were shots. For the second time in just a few days, she thought she was going to die. “Dear God, why? Why me, and why Sam?”

The neighbor boy, Joe had been shot. The chill went deeper. As far as she was concerned, Joe Stephano was a hero. If he hadn’t stepped in when he did…? Her heart thumped madly in her chest.

What was she missing?

She’d led such an ordinary life. So ordinary it would be considered dull by many. Yet, she’d attained a sense of herself over the last months. She’d mapped out her and her son’s life together, was sure, even now, that it would have been a good one. She’d promised herself and her unborn son that much.

Kayla looked around the small house. She was safe now that the killer was dead. Or was she? Would someone else try to get to her? If anyone wanted in, they’d get in. She needed a weapon. Going to the kitchen, she looked through drawers and cabinets. Aunt Nester wouldn’t have a gun. Maybe Luke could get her one. Dumb. Of course he wouldn’t. Maybe a knife.

She opened another drawer. To her surprise, she found it full of pocketknives of every size and description. She fingered through them. “I’ll bet they belonged to Aunt Nester’s husband, Paul,” she whispered.

She selected one, opened it, checked to see if it was sharp. Satisfied that it was, she closed the blade and slipped it into her pants pocket. “Better than nothing,” she breathed just as a loud knock came at the back door.

Kayla jumped. The slightest provocation sent her nerves skittering. But it was Jackie, her arms laden with bags.

“That didn’t take long.”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone. Luke will kill me.”

“I need the bottles,” she said, taking the bags from Jackie’s hand.

“Are you all right?”

“All right? I don’t know what all right is anymore,” Kayla answered.

“I’m so sorry, Kayla.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Jackie insisted. “We assumed you were safe here last night. We won’t make that mistake again.”

“Do you think someone else will come after me?”

Jackie put the kettle on for tea while Kayla washed, then sterilized the bottles. “Who knows? I just talked to Terry. He told me the man Luke shot was a contract killer.”

“That doesn’t tell us much.”

“When the FBI finds out who hired him, they’ll find Sam.”

Kayla sat down at the table. “You sound so confident. Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“What if we never find Sam, Jackie? How will I live without him?”

Jackie was silent for a long moment, as if she knew Kayla’s question was a rhetorical one. “The same way other parents who lose a child, one day at a time.”

At the look on Kayla’s face, Jackie held up her hand. “I’m not saying it would be easy, or that the hole in your heart would go away or totally heal. I’m just saying it can be done.”

“But I don’t want to forget my baby. Just the opposite, I want to remember everything about him.”

“Stop torturing yourself, Kayla. We’re not giving up. Not now.”

“Not ever,” Kayla promised grimly. “Except that every step we take forward, we get thrown back when someone else is shot and killed. Will the person behind this give up now?” She put her hands over her eyes. “I need to know. Instead of watching out for myself, I need to concentrate on the search for Sam.”

Jackie shrugged. “Don’t think about it right now. Have you eaten?”

“For goodness sake, Jackie. Who can think of food with all that’s going on?”

“If you’re going to look for Sam, you need to stay healthy and strong.”

Jackie was right. She had to keep from falling apart again. It would be too easy to give up and let Aunt Nester take care of her.

She thought of Sam, eyes that mirrored her own, David’s chin, soft cheeks, tiny fingers and toes. She’d never give up. Not now. Not ever. He belonged with her. Not with strangers. “If they send anyone else after me, I’ll be ready,” Kayla promised, fingering the pocketknife.

****

Luke had never known anyone as strong-willed as Kayla. Her small stature didn’t keep her from a determination bordering on obsessive. She intended to find Sam. But there were no leads, no direction in which to go.

Yet, her resolve was firm. And it fanned out to those around her. Certainly Aunt Nester was convinced the child would be found. So was Rosie—Jackie too, for that matter.

What about him? His opinion was one drawn from years in the field. An infant kidnapped by a stranger was almost impossible to find after this length of time. Yet, when in Kayla’s determined presence, he could almost believe the impossible.

It should come to an end soon. Whoever hired the killer to take out Kayla would either give up or send someone else to finish the job. The failure of a plan like this could lead the one behind it all to make a mistake. Luke’s hope was pinned on that mistake.

His cell phone rang just as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Garrett.”

Luke recognized the voice of FBI agent, Clint Richards. “Thought you’d like an up-date. The man you shot, Sebastian Bailey, has been on our most wanted list.”

“Any idea who hired him?”

“Working on it.”

“You must have some idea.”

“None. He’s a gun for hire. Could be anybody.”

“Was the shooter from around here?” Luke knew the answer, but kept his council.

“Nah. Back East.”

“Do you think he was hired by someone on the east coast?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Professional killers aren’t that plentiful. Anyone from anywhere could have hired him.”

“Great.” Luke swore under his breath.

“I’ll let you know what we find,” Richards promised.

“Are you going to put a 24/7 on Kayla, or do I have to?”

“She’s safe for the time being. If the guy who hired Bailey, or whatever the hell his name was, still wants her dead, he’ll have to find someone else. That’ll take time.”

“When you look in your crystal ball and find out when, let me know,” Luke snapped as he hung up. It wasn’t hard to understand the captain’s distaste for Richards. He gave out a little info, but not enough to put two and two together and come up with four.

Slamming out of the car, Luke strode to Joe Stefano’s hospital room. If it were left up to Richards, Kayla would have to take care of herself.

The door to room 320 was partly open. For a moment he watched the scene. Joe wasn’t a bad kid. Like so many others in the neighborhood, he’d fallen in with the wrong crowd, quit school, and spent his time getting into trouble. Small time stuff. There had been a shoplifting episode a year or so ago. After giving Joe a stern lecture, Luke talked the store manager into dropping the charges. If Joe didn’t straighten up, he was headed for a life in prison. Or worse. Joe could do better.

Through the open door, he watched as Joe’s mother, Irma, bent over the kid as if he were on his deathbed. She was a good woman, just not assertive enough to control a boy in his late teens who thought he knew everything. Nester stood at Irma’s side with Rosie, silently offering support.

“How’s the patient?” he asked entering the room.

The women looked up. Rosie answered the question with one of her own, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. How’s our boy?”

Irma looked at Luke with tears in her eyes. “Joey could have been killed. What’s wrong with this world?”

Joe in a hospital gown was a sight to see. It almost made Luke smile. Behind his show of bravado though, Luke saw a scared, mixed-up kid.

Joe sat up, propped himself on a couple of pillows. “I’m fine, Maw. Doc said I could go home tomorrow. What’s the big deal?”

When Irma started to respond, Luke waved her to silence. “I’d like to speak to Joe alone. Do you mind?”

“A couple of FBI guys took a statement a while ago,” Rosie volunteered.

“This isn’t official. I just want to have a little chat.”

The women didn’t seem in a big hurry to leave so he added, “Please. Just for a few minutes.”

Nester herded them out the door. “We’ll be in the lounge. I think I saw a coffee pot out there.”

Luke shot her a grateful look. When the door closed, he turned to Joe. “You almost got yourself killed.”

Joe lost his show of confidence as soon as the women left. “I know. Don’t tell my mother, but when that guy turned his gun on me I almost peed in my pants. I couldn’t think of anything except how much I wanted to live.”

“So what do you think? Isn’t it about time you straightened yourself up?”

“Don’t start in on me, Garrett. I tried working, but nothing panned out. What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a smart kid. Tell me what you thought when you saw a man holding a gun to Kayla’s head, then turned it on you.”

Joe shut his eyes for a moment as if reliving the event. “Right then, I wanted to smash him. But I didn’t have a weapon. All I could do was distract him. I saw you coming out of the house and figured you’d handle it. The main thing was to get the gun away from the girl’s head. The only way I saw to do that was to yell at the guy.”

Luke patted the boy’s good shoulder. “You put yourself in danger. If it weren’t for you, Kayla could be dead now.”

“Wow! That’s cool.”

Clearing his throat, Luke went on. “Yeah, it’s cool. You saved a life. I’m going to recommend you for a commendation.”

Joe almost came off the bed. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope. HPD gives out citizen awards every year. If anyone deserves one, you do.” He pulled up the only chair in the room and sat down. “Here’s something I want you to think about. You’re throwing your life away by loafing around all day with that bunch of losers. Have you thought of entering the police academy? Be a cop?”

Joe’s answer was a loud burst of cynical laughter.

But Luke saw past the laughter to the yearning in his deep brown eyes. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious. You’re smart; you keep your cool in an emergency. I think you’d do well.”

“I quit school. Remember? How would I ever get in the academy?”

“Like everyone else. Work for it. It wouldn’t take long to get your GED. Then you could go to the community college for a couple of years. My recommendation will help. It would be work, but I think you could do it.”

The flare of interest died. “You’re talking money. School’s expensive. Mom doesn’t have money.”

Luke leaned closer. “Anything worth having is worth working for. With student loans, a part time job...”

Another flare of interest. Luke went for the clincher. “And I know a couple of places who’d hire a kid part time.”

“You serious?”

“Serious as that wound in your shoulder.”

Joe’s mouth turned into a lopsided grin. “Can I think about it?”

Luke stood. “You do that, and let me know.” He looked down at the boy-man sprawled in the bed, a blood soaked bandage taped to his shoulder. The kid deserved a break. He’d proven himself today, more than proven himself. If ever Luke saw a cop-in-waiting, he was looking at one.

“Thanks again, Joe,” he said, shaking the boy’s hand. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

Just as Luke reached the door, the boy said, “You mean it?”

Luke opened the door. “Every friggin’ word.”

When Luke entered the lounge, Joe’s mother made a beeline back to his room. She wouldn’t stray far from her boy’s side until he was healed. Just like Rosie would do, Luke thought. Not his birth mother, but Rosie. He looked at her now. She was looking at him with love in her eyes. He walked over to her and gave her a hug. They grinned at each other.