Читать книгу The Cradle Files - Delores Fossen - Страница 10

Garrett felt as if someone had slugged him. Twice.

“Oh, man,” he mumbled. And because he didn’t know what else to say or do, he just stood there and kept mumbling it.

A baby.

Specifically, a three-and-a-half-week-old daughter.

A child he’d conceived with Lexie during the “adrenaline sex” they’d had after she testified against her boss.

Well, maybe.

And maybe all of this was some bizarre encounter with a woman who was no longer sane.

Except Lexie seemed sane. Well, she did if he disregarded half of what she’d said. Oh, and if he didn’t count the fact that she’d broken into his house and held him at gunpoint.

Not exactly the actions of a sane woman.

But if what she’d told him was true, then what she had been through would have tested anyone’s sanity.

Lexie got up from the bed. Not slowly, either. And she immediately started toward him.

“Don’t you even think about trying to get this gun back,” Garrett warned through clenched teeth. “And forget any thoughts about trying to pound me into the floor by using your martial arts training. And definitely don’t do anything else that’ll rile me.”

She blinked. “I have martial arts training?”

He was certain he scowled—because under the circumstances it seemed a semi-trivial question and because he probably shouldn’t have informed her of that particular talent. “Yeah. You do.”

Lexie touched her fingertips to her right temple. “I wish I’d known that sooner.”

“Lucky for me you didn’t, because I obviously have enough to deal with.” And he needed to start dealing. “Honesty time,” he insisted, turning toward her. Unfortunately, because she was already so close, that move put their faces only a couple of inches apart. Breath met breath. “Is all of what you told me true?”

“Yes.” She paused. Nodded. Paused again. “There are some blank spots in my memory, but giving birth isn’t one of them. I swear I had a baby.”

And he was the father.

Okay. He didn’t doubt that last part. If Lexie had indeed had a child, then the timing was perfect for it to be his. Unfortunately, the pregnancy timing was the only thing that was perfect or that made sense.

She pressed her lips together for a moment and gave him a considering stare. “I don’t think I would have left your bed and gone to another man.”

“You wouldn’t have.” In fact, in those days leading up to Billy Avery’s trial, while Lexie had still been in his protective custody, they’d talked about a lot of things, including their sex lives.

Or lack thereof.

Lexie wasn’t a person who slept around. Neither was he, despite the player reputation he had among his fellow officers.

Even though he tried to tamp down all the wild scenarios that started to fly through his head, he wasn’t completely successful. But Garrett forced himself to focus.

First things first.

He ejected the ammunition from her weapon. The unfired bullets landed on the floor. Using his bare foot, he kicked them several feet away from her.

She watched the cartridges scatter, and her gaze flew to his again. “You still think I’m here to shoot you?”

“I don’t want you to have the opportunity to even consider it. Confiscating and disarming a weapon are standard police procedures.”

“If I were a suspect.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you are. Or what’s going on. You broke into the home of a cop, which only makes things worse for you. And for me. I just want to follow some kind of rules and regs so I know I’ll be doing something right.”

Which was a joke that would have earned him some serious ribbing from his brother, sister and parents—all four of whom were cops or former cops. He’d never really thought of himself as a rule follower. However, in this case, he hoped the rules would ground him, because he needed something to do that.

“Who stole the baby?” he asked.

Just like that, the fight in her expression and posture faded. No more hiked up chin. No more adamant if-I-were-a-suspect retorts. “I don’t know. As I said, I have gaps in my memory, and unfortunately that’s one of them.”

“All right.” Those gaps wouldn’t make this easier, but it wasn’t impossible. “Start with what you do know.”

She waited a moment, apparently considering his suggestion. “I know who I am. More or less. I remember my childhood, growing up on a ranch in east Texas with my father. I remember the day I left to go to college. It’s my adulthood that’s a little fuzzy. I can’t recall working as a bodyguard for William Avery, and I didn’t have any idea about his arrest or the trial.”

Those weren’t just gaps in her memory. They were huge craters that encompassed months of time. “And you didn’t remember me?”

She drew in her breath, released it slowly. “No.”

Garrett worked his way through the implications of what she was saying. For all practical purposes, he was a gap. “Then why did you come here to my house? How did you guess that we’d even had sex?”

“In one of the articles there was a photo of us leaving the courthouse. You had your arm curved around my waist and were obviously trying to get me out of the path of the photographers and the press.”

He remembered the picture. In fact, he’d stared at it for hours after Lexie had left. “From that, you decided I’d fathered your baby?”

“There was something about the way you were holding me.” She shrugged. “It was…intimate.”

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

And it was still intimate.

Even now.

Hell. He could feel the attraction. Evidently that was something even gaps in memory couldn’t cool down. Well, he sure as heck would put an end to it. He was not going to lose his badge by giving in to emotions that he should have never felt in the first place.

“Yeah. Intimate,” he repeated. His boss had thought the same thing—so much so that the single photo had spurred some hard questions from Internal Affairs. Questions about Garrett’s professionalism. About his dedication to the badge and his assignment.

Questions that had cut to the core simply because they’d been asked.

No.

He wasn’t going back there.

“After you testified that day, you were upset. Rightfully so,” Garrett explained, trying to make it sound clinical. “Billy Avery’s lawyers had asked some tough questions and tried to rattle you while you were on the stand. They also tried to discredit you and your testimony about the illegal activity that you’d witnessed. But you held your ground. You were able to give details that the defense couldn’t refute.”

“And it was after I left the courthouse that we went to the hotel and…had sex?”

Garrett waited a moment. “You remember anything about that?”

“No.”

That didn’t matter. Because he had enough memories for both of them.

“And I don’t remember leaving,” she continued. “Though there was an article that mentioned I’d disappeared.”

There was no way he could keep this clinical, so he settled for keeping it short. “You did.”

She stared at him. “I don’t know where I went. Where I stayed. What I did. All of that is a blank, and I don’t remember anything until I went into labor.”

Well, at least they had that. “You have no idea who took the child?”

“None. But I remember where it happened. It was at the Brighton Birthing Center.”

The facility instantly rang a bell. There’d been some kind of altercation there recently, but he couldn’t remember the details. “That’s one of those back to nature places just outside the city limits?”

She nodded. “This isn’t a real memory, but more like a vague recollection coupled with a theory. I went there when the labor started. Why, I don’t know. Maybe because I was staying close by, or maybe because I knew someone who worked there. I delivered the baby. And then the doctor gave me that syringe filled with drugs. I think he did that so the other man could take the baby from me.”

Despite her sketchy details, Garrett could almost see it. A sterile, milk-white delivery room. Lexie, weak from giving birth. At that moment, she was about as vulnerable as she could get.

“What happened next?” he asked.

“The doctor left me there in the birthing room. I managed to get off the bed, somehow. I went to look for the baby. But I was dizzy, and I couldn’t see where the man had taken her. Then I heard the doctor telling the security guard to find me and make sure I didn’t get out of there.”

Garrett forced the emotion aside and dealt with the facts. “But you obviously escaped.”

“Through the fire exit. I was still wearing a hospital gown, and I was barefoot. Not to mention I was drugged. I saw the man who took the baby. He put her in a dark blue van and sped away. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay conscious for long so I, uh, borrowed a car from the parking lot and tried to go after him.”

Garrett ignored the borrowed part. He would deal with the stolen car issue if and when it came up again. “You weren’t successful.”

She shook her head. “No. I only made it a few miles, and I barely managed to get off the road and onto a path deep in the woods before I blacked out. When I came to, it was nearly two days later, and the man, the dark blue van and the baby were nowhere around.”

He could almost see that, too. As a cop. And as a prospective parent. Neither viewpoint pleased him.

Mercy, did he really have a child out there somewhere?

A child who’d been born, and stolen, under the circumstances Lexie had just described? He certainly couldn’t dismiss it, but he couldn’t dismiss the problems in her account, either.

“When you regained consciousness, you didn’t go to the police?” he asked.

“I tried.” She made a soft, throaty sound of disapproval. Probably because it was obvious he was now interrogating her. “I was on my way there when someone ran me off the road. It was a cop.”

Garrett felt his stomach tighten. “A cop?”

“Well, he was wearing a cop’s uniform, anyway. I managed to get away. I drove the car back into the woods so the cop or anyone else on the road wouldn’t be able to see me, but I was so weak that I passed out at the wheel again. Someone found me. A rancher. And he took me to a small county hospital and that’s where I’ve been—in and out of consciousness, for nearly three weeks.”

And with her having no wallet, ID or memory, the medical staff wouldn’t have known whom to contact. Not that she had a next of kin—her parents were dead.

“Why didn’t the doctors at the county hospital call the police?” Garrett asked.

“Because I begged them not to. I told them I was on the run from an abusive ex, that he’d beaten and drugged me. And I told them that my ex was a cop.”

“And they bought all of that?”

She nodded. “They wanted to give me a gynecological exam. They thought maybe I’d been raped, but I assured them that a rape hadn’t occurred, that I was simply having a heavier than usual menstrual cycle. I didn’t want them discovering that I’d recently given birth, because it would have spurred too many questions, and it might have caused them to call the cops, after all. I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t even stand on my own two feet, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight off another attack.”

Garrett considered everything she’d said. “Yet you weren’t so weak that you couldn’t come up with a whole list of apparently believable lies.”

Oh, that earned him a glare. “Be thankful that the lies came easily. If they hadn’t, I probably would be dead by now. And where would that have left the baby, huh?”

He wasn’t ready to think about that just yet. But soon. Very soon. “After you were discharged from the hospital—”

“I wasn’t discharged,” she interrupted. “Once I regained consciousness and some strength, I sneaked out. Because I was afraid someone would try to kill me again.”

Her fear certainly seemed genuine, but like her memory, there were some huge gaps in her story. “And you still didn’t go to the police?” he pressed.

“I didn’t think I could trust the cops. Especially since it may have been a cop who ran me off the road.” She turned away from him, in the direction of his dresser. She didn’t exactly glance at his Glock, but Garrett figured she was well aware that it was there.

“Remember that part about not doing anything to rile me?” he warned.

“Well, you’re riling me,” she retorted. But she wasn’t just kidding around. Anger chilled her voice, and she got right in his face. “Don’t you get it? We have a baby out there, and someone has her. Do you think it’s a good idea to stand around here wasting time with all these questions? We could be using this time to find her.”

“Information and facts will help find her, and you seem to be seriously short on both.”

“Because I can’t remember!” she shouted. The burst of emotion left as quickly as it came. Her shoulders slumped. “Please, just believe me.”

It was the please that got him. That, and the teary look. “And what if I do?”

A glimmer of hope flashed in her eyes. “I need to get back into the Brighton Birthing Center.” She glanced at her gun, which he still held in his hand. “I wasn’t sure I could even shoot straight. And I didn’t know about the martial arts training. I figured if I went barging in there asking questions, I’d just get myself killed. After what happened with the cop trying to run me off the road, I figured I couldn’t go to the police. Present company excluded, of course. I decided that since you were likely the baby’s father, I should tell you.”

So, there it was. In a nutshell. Even if he had doubts about the validity of her memory, he couldn’t doubt that sincere please. But it didn’t mean he’d agree to go off on some renegade chase. This had to be done by the book. He had to get his lieutenant involved.

Garrett opened his mouth to tell her, but that was as far as he got. He saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, behind her. To the right of the double French doors that led to his backyard.

“Get down,” Garrett said. Not a shout; he practically whispered it. But it still came through loud and clear as an order.

Lexie tried to follow his gaze, no doubt to see what had triggered his reaction, but he didn’t give her the chance. Garrett slapped off the light switch, plunging them into darkness. In the same motion, he hooked his arm around her waist and shoved her to the floor.

It was barely in time.

Because a bullet slammed through the one of the French doors, pelting them with a deadly spray of splintered wood and broken glass.