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Authors: Rita Herron

BOOK: Unbreakable Bond
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“Meaning it was a private adoption?” Slade asked.

She nodded in confirmation.

“Do you have records of a premature baby being adopted around that time?” Slade asked. “And could that child have been adopted by the Waldorps?”

Miriam spoke quietly. “I have no record of preemie adoptions, or suggestions that the Waldorps have your child, but I'll dig deeper. She could have ended up in foster care.”

“My poor little girl,” Nina said in a pained whisper. “What if no one adopted her and she's lost in the system?”

Miriam smiled for the first time since they'd entered. “It's possible. I'll search and see if I find a child in foster care who matches that description.”

Hope budded in Nina's chest. But it was a long shot. For all she knew, a family had adopted her. If so, she only prayed that they loved her.

But that nagging sensation clawed at her, and she closed her eyes. She could hear her little girl crying again.

She needed her.

Nina would find her no matter what.

 

S
LADE HATED THE DISCOMFORT
on Nina's face, but if Peyton was in foster care, it might be easier to track her down than if she had been adopted. But the thought of the little handicapped girl being shuffled from one place to another, knowing she might have suffered God knew what, ripped at his gut.

He knew firsthand what foster care was like. Knew that some people could be loving, but that other times, they could be cruel.

His cell phone buzzed, and he excused himself to answer it. “Slade Blackburn.”

“Mr. Blackburn,” a woman's voice whispered. “This is Paula Emery.”

Slade tensed. “Yes?”

A tension-filled minute stretched between them. Slade thought he heard shuffling, then running. “Mrs. Emery?”

“I have to see you,” she cried. “Roan Waldorp called here a few minutes ago having a fit. I think I may know who kidnapped Nina Nash's child.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “The Waldorps?”

“Not over the phone,” she whispered. “Meet me at Caleb's Cabins off Old Canyon Road. The cabin at the end of the road.”

A man's voice sounded in the background, and the woman's breath quickened. “I can't talk now. I have to go. Just meet me.”

The line went dead, and Slade rushed back in to get Nina. Mrs. Emery sounded scared, nervous.

Did she really know who had kidnapped Peyton, or was this some kind of trap?

Chapter Fourteen

Slade stepped back into the room. “Nina, we need to go. We might have a lead.”

Hope brightened her face, and she stood, although her ankle gave way and she gripped his arm to steady herself.

“I can drop you at the agency if you want,” he offered.

“No. I'm going with you.” She clung to his arm and he helped her out to the rental car. “What happened?” she asked as she fastened her seat belt.

Slade started the engine. “That was Dr. Emery's wife. She said Gwen's husband called, frantic about our visit. Then she claimed she has information about Peyton.”

“Oh, my God…” Nina's eyes filled with tears.

“I hope she's telling the truth, Nina,” he said, feeling the need to caution her. “But we have to be careful. This could be a trap.”

“A trap?”

He squeezed her hand. “Remember, someone tried to kill us already.”

“But why would Mrs. Emery want to hurt us?”

“To protect her husband,” Slade said matter-of-factly.

Nina thumbed a strand of hair from her cheek and slowly nodded.

A thunderstorm rumbled on the horizon, the clouds thickening as they climbed the mountain toward the rental cabins. Traffic thinned, a single car or truck passing as night fell. The wind whipped leaves from the trees, the temperature dropping, the area becoming more isolated and dense with woods.

Slade checked the rearview mirror a dozen times to make certain no one was following. Lights from an oncoming truck nearly blinded him as he rounded a curve, then a deer raced across the road. The truck's brakes squealed as he swerved to avoid it, and Slade skimmed the side of the road to avoid hitting the truck.

His lights flickered down the embankment, and he caught sight of a car that had nose-dived into the small ravine. The truck raced on, oblivious.

“Damn. There's a car off the road down there,” Slade said, righting his vehicle and pulling a few feet ahead to an overhang. “Let me see if anyone is hurt inside.”

Nina nodded, and he jumped out. “Lock the door. And if anyone approaches, honk the horn.” He didn't wait on a reply. He raced down the embankment, dirt and rocks skidding beneath his boots.

He skated over the rocks but his foot slipped, and he grabbed a tree limb to keep from falling. Cursing, he climbed over a tree stump, and mangled limbs scattered across the terrain from a past storm then placed his hand on the car. It was still warm.

The front end was crunched into the ravine, the windows shattered, the sides dented, and the mirror on the driver's side had been ripped off.

Pushing through the briars and weeds, he looked inside the window at the driver's seat. A body was plastered against the seat, half hidden by the air bag. He used his pocketknife to rip it away, then saw the woman's bloody face. Her skin was ashen, her chest heaving for air.

“Miss, my name is Slade Blackburn. I'll call an ambulance.”

“Wait…” she rasped. “She did this…”

“She?” He frowned and tilted her face to see her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I called you,” she choked out.

Cold fear gripped Slade's belly. “You're Dr. Emery's wife?”

Her body jerked and convulsed, another pain-filled choked sound erupting from her.

“Ye-es,” she whispered. “Carrie Poole, nurse…affair with my husband. She…stole the baby.”

Slade's heart pounded. He had to get help. “I'm going to call an ambulance.”

But suddenly the woman rasped another sound, gripped her chest and panic filled her eyes.

Then she slumped back in the seat, her eyes glazed over and she stopped breathing.

 

N
INA WONDERED WHAT WAS
taking so long. Was someone in the car? Maybe hurt…

Suddenly, a shot blasted the front window of the car, and she ducked. Another shot hit the front bumper and pinged off, and she screamed.

Where was the shooter? In the woods? Had he hit Slade?

Panic flooded her. No, Slade couldn't be hurt….

Another shot echoed from the other side, and she heard Slade shouting, “Stay down, Nina!”

She covered her head with her arms and did as he said, while more gunfire exploded around her. Outside the car, footsteps crunched gravel, thunder rumbled then she heard someone scrambling near the passenger door.

Was it the shooter?

Rain began to splatter the windshield, and the door lock clicked then the door swung open.

Nina sighed in relief when she spotted Slade sliding into the seat. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. What about you?”

Another shot pelted the passenger side this time, and he twisted the key in the ignition, punched the accelerator and took off. “Hang on,” he shouted.

Nina refastened her seat belt but crouched low as he raced around the curve. He shoved his cell phone toward her.

“Call the sheriff, tell them I found Emery's wife's car crashed.” He paused and gave her a troubled look. “And tell him to send the coroner. She's dead.”

“Oh, my God…” She started punching in numbers while he maneuvered the curves. “What happened?”

“I don't know,” Slade said. “But if that shooter was any indication, she was murdered.”

Nina gasped. “She was killed because she was going to talk to me.”

Slade pulled her hand into his lap. “This is not your fault, Nina. So don't even go there. For all we know, Mrs. Emery knew who the kidnapper was all along and remained quiet all these years.”

A deep-seated trembling overcame Nina, and she gripped his hand tighter. “Did you see the shooter?” she whispered.

Slade shook his head, then veered onto a dirt side road that wound along the creek. Nina spotted the sign for the rental cabins, and realized they were still headed to Emery's cabin.

“What did she say?” Nina asked.

“She claimed her husband and Carrie had an affair.”

“Carrie and Dr. Emery?” Nina frowned. “That doesn't seem likely.”

Slade shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But if Emery didn't know about the kidnapping, and Carrie was responsible for killing his wife, she may be going after him next.”

 

N
INA'S HANDS WERE
trembling so hard that Slade took the phone. “This is Slade Blackburn of GAI.” He relayed what had happened and asked for an ambulance.

“I'm going to check out the doctor's cabin now.”

“I'll send someone up there to comb the woods ASAP. Call me if you need backup.” Sheriff Driscill paused. “And, Blackburn, remember, you're not a cop. You don't have a warrant so keep it within the law.”

Slade gritted his teeth. “Yeah, right.” He ended the call with a curse. To hell with the law.

He and Nina had been nearly killed twice. Mrs. Emery was dead.

And someone didn't want them to find out what had happened to Peyton Nash.

He'd do whatever it took to find the truth now. Even if he had to risk his reputation, his job and his life to do so.

He swerved around a pothole, gravel spewing from the tires as he ground his way across the dirt road. Rain pounded the roof of the car, the thunder growing louder, and he slowed slightly, creeping past several cabins until he reached the hollow. A lone cabin sat atop the hill, a small sedan parked outside.

A streak of lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the dark interior of the cabin, and he scanned the perimeter. No lights on inside or outside.

Was anyone home? Or could the shooter be hiding out here?

No. On foot, he couldn't have woven through the woods that quickly.

He threw the car into Park and glanced at Nina. “Stay here with the doors locked. I'll check out the cabin and see if anyone's here.”

Nina grabbed his hand. “Slade…”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.” Her lower lip quivered. “Please.”

Her eyes were big, beautiful pools of color, filled with fear. Fear for him.

Something deep and untamed moved inside him. Arousal? Need? Hunger?

That and emotions he had never felt or thought he would feel for a woman. God, he didn't want to lose her….

Inhaling a deep breath, he cupped her face in his hands. “I will. Stay put and if you hear or see anyone, hit the horn like I told you earlier.”

Slade kissed her deeply, tenderly, urgently. Desire surged through him along with protective instincts and the need to tell her that he cared for her.

No… Too scary.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance, and reality sucker punched him. So he pulled away.

“Hurry,” Nina whispered.

He nodded, then opened the door, slid outside and crept up to the house. Rain pelted him, and he scanned the land and exterior, then peered in through the front window. Although the house was dark, and he didn't detect movement, a noise jarred him.

A soft pounding? A knock?

He couldn't quite tell, so he crept to the side of the house, checking the windows there, searching for one that might be open. A deck had been built onto the back, and he padded up the steps, then jiggled the back door.

The noise sounded again. A knocking sound, maybe a fist or a chair? Then another sound…a moan.

His pulse spiked. Someone was inside, someone hurt.

He removed his wallet, removed the small lockpick he kept stored inside, jammed it in the lock and jimmied it open. The scent of coffee and something acrid filled the air, and he frowned and inched inside, keeping his gun at the ready.

Then he heard the moan again, a low, keening sound of pain, and he moved forward, listening for other
sounds as he inched through the kitchen into the small hallway leading to the living room. But his foot hit something, and he realized a chair was overturned.

The metallic scent of blood assaulted him, and he glanced down and found a woman lying on the floor. She had one hand wrapped around the chair, either trying to pull herself up or banging it to attract his attention.

“Help me,” she whispered in a choked cry.

Slade knelt beside her and checked her pulse. Low but thready. The woman was Carrie Poole, the nurse from the hospital. Blood soaked her blouse, and she tried to raise a trembling hand to reach for him.

But it fell limply to her side, she gasped for a breath and her body convulsed.

 

N
INA HEARD A NOISE NEAR
the house, and panic set in. What was taking Slade so long?

Was he all right?

Her heart was pounding so loudly she could almost hear the blood roaring in her ears. She just couldn't sit here. She had to do something.

Then a car raced up the drive, a black Mercedes. Dr. Emery's.

Anxiety choked her, and for a moment, fear. What if Dr. Emery had known what Carrie had done?

But his face looked panicked as he jumped out and ran up to the sedan. The rain was starting to die down, but rivulets trickled down his cheeks as he pounded on the door.

“Nina, what are you doing here?” He frantically pulled at the door. “Open up. Have you seen my wife?”

Nina tensed and gripped the door handle. He didn't know about his wife's accident…that she was dead…

He threw up his hands, his face filled with fear. “Nina, open up, tell me what's going on.”

Nina chewed her bottom lip, but opened the car door. If Carrie was inside, she might have laid a trap for the doctor. And Slade might have walked into it, meaning he needed help.

“My wife phoned, frantic,” Dr. Emery said. “She claimed she knew who took your baby, that she was scared, for me to meet her here.”

Nina inhaled a sharp breath. “I know…she called me, too.”

His eyes raked over her, then fell to the empty driver's seat. “Did that P.I. come with you?”

Nina nodded. “He went inside to see if you were there. He thought you might be in danger…” Her voice cracked. “Dr. Emery, I don't know how to tell you this, but we found your wife's car crashed down the road. She didn't make it.”

His eyes went flat, and suddenly he gripped her arm. “I know.”

Nina stared at him in horror as he yanked her from the car and jammed a gun in her side.

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