Mommy Midwife (12 page)

He shot a quick glance in her direction. Her face showed a mirror reflection of her mother’s tension. Damn it, this wasn’t the way things should be. A pregnant lady should be surrounded by tranquility and peace with somebody massaging her feet and somebody else feeding her grapes. She needed serenity. Not spy chasing.

And he was as guilty as the rest of them. He’d taken her condition for granted and assumed that she could handle everything herself. That attitude had to change.

Looking toward Sharon Laughton, Troy asked, “Ma’am, are you sure about the identification?”

“I know him,” she said firmly.

“Did you meet Kruger years ago?”

“No, I don’t believe I did.”

Troy wasn’t following her comments. “Are you saying that you’ve met him recently?”

She nodded. “He looks different now. There are typical changes due to aging, like his receding hairline. I’d guess that at some time he had plastic surgery to modify his nose and the line of his jaw. Still, the resemblance is blatantly obvious. It’s the shape of his ears. Ears don’t change. They’re unique to each individual and are an excellent means of identification.”

Her husband left his chair, circled the table and stood behind her. When he checked out the photo on the cell phone, his eyebrows raised. “She’s right.”

“You bet I am.”

Olivia’s mother had transformed from a beige sophisticate into a tiger mom. Her cheeks flushed. Her lips drew back in a snarl that revealed perfect white teeth. “What level of incompetence would allow this individual to go undetected? I cannot abide this nonsense. Not when it endangers my children.”

“Again, she’s right.” Richard backed her up. “Kruger must be taken into custody immediately.”

Troy wasn’t sure what the hell they were talking about. He was missing something. “Let me get this straight. You both know this man?”

“Yes,” they said in chorus.

Through a clenched jaw, he asked, “Can you give me a name?”

Olivia’s mother passed the cell phone to Bianca. “Why don’t you do the honors, dear? Tell him.”

Bianca stared blankly at the screen. “I don’t see it.”

“The ears,” her mother said. “Look at his ears.”

“Still not getting it,” Bianca said.

“Really, darling. Imagine this young man with twenty years of hard living. His hair is steel-gray. His forehead is creased, and he has deep lines at the edge of his mouth.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Bianca snapped. “I haven’t had your training. I haven’t spent my whole life studying faces and being paranoid. I deal with facts. Not innuendo.”

“And I’m proud of you,” her mother said. “I’m proud of both my daughters.”

Troy heard Olivia draw a ragged breath. She was on the verge of hormonal tears again, and he didn’t want to go through another bout of emotion. “We’ve had enough guessing games. I need a name.”

“Matthew Clark,” Richard said. “He’s one of the principals in CRG Energy. They’re clients of Bianca’s law firm.”

Bianca stared at the photo, blinked and looked up. In a small voice, she said, “It’s him.”

Other information Troy had received suggested that Kruger was involved in the oil business. “Earlier, when I talked with Sergeant Nelson, he mentioned that they’d picked up chatter about Denver. I never thought the connection would be so close.”

“What happens now?” Olivia asked.

The others talked at once. Bianca wanted the bastard to be arrested and subjected to a humiliating perp walk. Richard insisted upon informing his superiors at the CIA while Sharon sneered at the CIA for not locating Kruger sooner and suggested that they personally take him into custody and find out what he knew.

“Enough.” Troy rose to his feet. “This is my operation. Apprehending Kruger is not our prime objective. We’ve got a terrorist cell planning to blow up a building in Manhattan. They need to be stopped.”

“Of course,” Olivia’s mother said as she sipped her chardonnay. “You need to check with your people, Troy. In the meantime, we should all get ready for the dinner tonight. Bianca, please arrange for Olivia and Troy to be guests. Olivia, do you have anything appropriate to wear?”

“I do.”

“Excellent. For dinner tonight, you and Troy will pretend to be engaged. It simplifies introductions if we can say he’s your fiancé.”

Olivia started to object, “I’m not going to—”

“You need a nap,” her mother said as she rose from the table. “It’s already been a long day, and we’ll be out late tonight.”

Troy was pretty sure that his authority had been usurped and he’d been managed by the elegant hand of Sharon Laughton. She was damn good at what she did.

* * *

I
N THE GUEST
bedroom, Olivia lay on her side on the bed closest to the window and stared at the afternoon light that spilled around the edge of the flowered curtain. Seeing her parents acting like CIA operatives wasn’t really a shock. At some level, she and Bianca had always known that Mom and Dad were more than diplomats who traveled the globe.

But their behavior was strange. Her mom wore an ankle holster as an accessory. She recognized other spies by the shape of their ears.

Absentmindedly, she massaged her belly. How was she going to tell her son? Could she really say something like, “Granny and Grandpa are going to be late for your soccer game because they’re doing espionage in Uzbekistan”? Explaining Troy’s occupation was easier. He was a marine; his job revolved around danger. But Granny and Grandpa? No way could she explain their profession to a child.

Similar to her own childhood, there would be a curtain drawn over a large part of her parents’ lives. Was the family secrecy all that important to their relationship with her son? Love should be all that mattered. When she was growing up, Olivia had never felt unloved. Sure, she’d had issues. She’d feared that she’d never measure up to her parents’ high expectations and had struggled for their approval. But she had known that her mom and dad loved her.

She heard the bedroom door open and turned her head to see Troy entering on tiptoe.

“You’re not disturbing me,” she assured him. “I wasn’t napping.”

He came around the bed and went down on one knee in front of her so he could look her in the eye. “I’d join you on the bed, but I don’t think both of us will fit.”

“Twin beds,” she muttered. Her sister’s guest bedroom was perfectly acceptable but it was far from a love nest. “What’s the update?”

“According to the CIA and to my people as well, your mother’s identification of Matthew Clark as Kruger has an eighty percent chance of being accurate. They’re sorting through documents and doing forensic computer searches on Matthew Clark’s finances to make sure. But it seems likely.”

“Mom must be thrilled.”

“She’s kind of amazing,” he said. “She’s angry enough to rip somebody’s face off, but she’s one hundred percent smooth when she talks to her superiors. Velvet and steel.”

An apt description. “Imagine growing up with that.”

“I’m guessing that you and Bianca didn’t get away with much.”

“The odd thing is that we did. Both Mom and Dad trusted us and let us make our own mistakes.” She thought back to a couple of teenage catastrophes. “The steely part came when we got caught. Mom never raised her voice, but she could skin us alive with a look.”

“My instructions are to proceed as though nothing is different, and we haven’t identified Kruger.” He gave a shrug. “That means we have to show up for this dinner tonight.”

She groaned. “Really?”

“I’m not happy about it, either. My instincts are telling me that something isn’t right. I don’t know what. Something.”

“Lucky for us, I’ve got something fancy to wear. It’s a draping toga thing. Bianca can probably help me out with jewelry.”

“So can I.” He reached into his pocket. “I’ve been carrying this around for a while.”

Resting on the palm of his hand was a small, black velvet box. She suddenly realized that he was on one knee. Pulling her legs down, she sat on the edge of the bed. “This doesn’t mean we’re engaged. Not for real.”

“Got it,” he said. “But your mom was right. It’s easier to explain our relationship by saying we’re engaged.”

He flipped open the lid to the box and showed her a square-cut diamond solitaire with a white platinum band. Even though they weren’t really getting engaged, her heart fluttered. The brilliance of the stone took her breath away. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you’ll be wearing the ring. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

When he slipped it onto her finger, she held up her hand to admire the sparkle. For a moment, she allowed herself to sink into a wedding fantasy, imagining herself in a stunning white gown and a veil. Her bouquet would be white orchids. She’d walk down the aisle with her handsome father and Troy would be waiting in his tuxedo—no, in his marine dress blues. And he’d look like a hero, her special hero. She could almost hear the organ music in the background.

When she gazed down at him, she wanted to accept this ring for what it really meant. She wanted to be engaged to him.

Still on one knee, he met her gaze. “The ring looks good on you.”

“It’s kind of tight,” she said. “My fingers are swollen.”

“Because of this little guy.” He rested his hands on either side of her belly, leaned forward and placed a kiss at the place where her waist should be. Then he stood and kissed her forehead.

Though she didn’t think his kisses were meant to send a message, she drew her own conclusion: the baby came first.

If she hadn’t been pregnant, Troy never would have asked her to marry him. Their relationship was only about the baby. He’d never told her that he loved her. There was no basis for a wedding, much less a marriage.

“There are a couple things I want to talk to you about,” he said. “Are you up for a talk or would you rather nap?”

“I’ll lie down,” she said, sinking into an unreasonable state of gloom as she stretched out on the bed. If she hadn’t been carrying his child, he wouldn’t even be here.

“I’ll join you.”

“The bed is too skinny.”

“Not a problem.”

Quickly, Troy reconfigured the room, shoving the twin beds together. He kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed beside her, within easy reach. His hand stroked from her shoulder to her belly and back again.

The sensual warmth that came every time they were physically close immediately lifted her spirits. Though he didn’t love her, they were lovers. Their sexual chemistry might not be a sufficient basis for marriage, but it was pretty remarkable.

His long leg wrapped around her thigh, and he pulled her closer. The sensation of his body pressed against hers was becoming more and more familiar. They fit together well.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked.

“When I put everything together, it doesn’t make sense. Let’s say that Matthew Clark really is Kruger, the mysterious spy. Why would he want to kidnap you?”

“To get to my parents,” she suggested.

“Why you? It’s more logical for him to go after Bianca. He already knows her.”

She watched his mouth as he spoke. His lower lip was fuller than the upper, and the corners turned up. Would their child look like him?

“Olivia?” He called her back to the topic.

“I’m listening,” she said quickly. “What did your sources tell you about the kidnap attempt?”

“The tactic sounds like Kruger, but there’s no indication that he knows your parents. They only met once. It was last winter at a CRG Energy Christmas party.”

With the tip of her finger, she traced his lips. “When Bianca and I introduce our parents, we usually say something vague, like they work for the State Department. Maybe Kruger got curious about them, did research and found out that they were CIA.”

“Their identities are buried,” he said. “I had to call in a bunch of favors and use my top secret security clearance to get information on your parents.”

She was far more interested in the shape of his lips and jaw than in speculating about spies. “Maybe the connection is to you. Not my parents. The kidnapping could be part of the Hatari scheme.”

“It’s possible.”

She vividly remembered his characterization of the Hatari cell as vicious killers. “What else could it be?”

“There might be a more personal reason for someone to kidnap you.” He laced his fingers through hers. When her hand turned, the diamond caught the light and shimmered. “There could be someone with a grudge.”

“Against me?”

“A jealous ex-boyfriend. Or a stalker? Or somebody you offended?”

“Oh, puh-leeze. I’m a midwife. I don’t have nefarious enemies lurking around every corner.”

“Everybody has enemies. Even you.”

“Nope, I’m perfect.”

She leaned forward to kiss him but he pulled back.

“Nobody’s perfect,” he said. “My brother is one of the most decent men I’ve ever known, and he has enemies. There was a guy he treated at the clinic who got ticked off and came after Alex with a gun.”

“I heard about that.”

“I hate to bring this up. When we saw Alex at the hospital, he mentioned Carol Rainer.”

Olivia shoved away from him and rolled onto her back. She didn’t like to think about the Rainers and what happened on that cold night last November. Carol might blame her for the loss of her baby. “I was wrong. There are people who hate me.”

“We should probably talk to Carol.”

Even if Carol Rainer despised her down to her toes, Olivia found it difficult to imagine the outdoorsy woman from Dillon involved in a two-car chase through the foothills. “If this is your idea of foreplay, you might want to rethink your technique.”

He bridged the gap between the beds. With an impressive show of strength, he flipped her toward him and adjusted her body so she was facing him. His kiss was long, slow and deep.

She forgot about everything else.

Chapter Eleven

The party for Bianca’s law firm to welcome the Saudi prince and the higher-up executives from CRG Energy Group took place at a private home in an old-money neighborhood with winding streets. It wasn’t the sort of home Olivia ever aspired to own. She liked to keep things simple, and this place was definitely high-
maintenance. Three stories with five chimney stacks, the house sprawled across an acre of prime Denver real estate.