Читать книгу A Stranger's Baby - Kerry Connor - Страница 8

“I’m telling you, I was not dreaming.”

Sara did her best to fight her rising impatience, but was still unable to keep the aggravation completely out of her tone.

The police officer who’d finally responded to her neighbor’s 9-1-1 call gave her that condescending look that was the cause of most of her irritation. Then he opened his mouth and delivered the source of the rest of it.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Carson, but like I said, we checked the whole house and weren’t able to find any signs that anyone else was here. There’s no indication the door was tampered with, no footprints inside or outside the house. No blood or any other reason to believe you shot anybody.”

“They ducked and ran,” she said for what seemed like the millionth time.

The officer—Dawson, she recalled him introducing himself—didn’t even acknowledge the interruption. “None of your neighbors saw anything, and you say nothing was taken.”

“That’s because I scared them off before they had the chance,” she returned. “Not that I think they were here to steal anything.”

“Right,” he said on a sigh. “The needle. Are you sure that’s what you saw? If the lights were off, in the dark…”

“It was shiny, and they said ‘This won’t hurt.’ It was a needle.”

“Do you know of any reason why someone might break in and try to harm you or your baby?”

“No.”

“Who else has a key?”

“No one.”

“And you’re sure you locked the back door before you went to bed?”

“Yes.”

The officer sighed again. “Ms. Carson, you said you haven’t been sleeping well. A woman living alone, in your condition, it’s understandable you might have a bad dream, or think you see something that isn’t there—”

“I’m pregnant, not deranged.”

His eyebrows went up and his gaze slid away, an expression that clearly said “Is there a difference?” She hadn’t missed the wedding ring on his finger and wondered briefly if he had kids. If so, she hoped he’d been more empathetic to his wife than he was being with her. Or maybe that experience was the cause of his current attitude.

Sara shot a glance at the other officer standing in the living-room doorway. He had a small smirk on his face, with slightly more impatience. She wouldn’t be getting any help from him.

She returned her attention to Dawson. “I know what happened,” she said stubbornly.

“I know you believe that. We just have to go by the evidence.”

“So you’re not going to do anything?”

Dawson held out his hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m not sure what I can do. Even if there was somebody here, we don’t have any way of tracking them down unless there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Even if there was, what was the point? It wasn’t as if what she had told him had done her any good. “There’s not.”

“Look at it this way. If somebody did break in, they probably won’t be coming back. I’d say you did a darn good job scaring them off. They won’t want to mess with you again.”

“I guess,” she muttered, unconvinced for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, but which scared her all the same.

“Tell you what. I’ll have somebody drive by a couple times the rest of the night, just to make sure everything looks okay.”

There was a definite note of finality in his tone. Even as he said it, he was rising from his seat. Clearly they’d wasted enough time on the delusional pregnant woman.

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. She didn’t bother to rise with him. They’d be able to make it to the next county by the time she hoisted herself from the chair.

Touching the brim of his hat, he offered one last “Ma’am” and headed to the door, following the other officer out.

As soon as they were gone, Sara wiped a hand over her face and released the frustrated breath she’d been holding. She knew she hadn’t imagined what had happened. Someone had broken in to her home, someone who’d intended to harm her. There just didn’t seem to be any way to prove it.

Which meant she was on her own to figure out what to do now. Not that that was anything new.

A soft tap against the door frame startled her. Her eyes flew to the entryway, her heart in her throat. Her neighbor stood there, the sight instantly reassuring. Jake, he’d said his name was. Just like the first time she’d seen him, she was struck by his sheer size, which was only emphasized in the smaller confines of her house. The man was massive, well over six feet tall and brawny, his shoulders filling the frame, his head barely clearing the ceiling. His size was such a defining characteristic that she’d had no trouble knowing he wasn’t involved in the break-in. She would have recognized this mountain coming at her in the dark.

From the few glimpses she’d had of him when they’d nodded to each other in passing, he’d struck her as deeply intimidating. Up close, he was slightly less so, if only because she could see his face more clearly. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but there was definitely something appealing in the blunt masculinity of his features. He’d always had this fierce expression on his face. She’d never seen him smile. He wasn’t now, either.

“I guess I’ll take off, too,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” she said, because it was easier than trying to convince someone else otherwise. Just hallucinating,evidently. “I never thanked you for calling 9-1-1 and coming over to check things out.”

He nodded shortly, lowering his eyes, as though embarrassed by her gratitude. “Don’t mention it. What are neighbors for, right?”

“Right,” she echoed with a pang of guilt, all too aware she hadn’t really lived up to that unspoken rule. She’d done what she always did, kept to herself. Because it was easier. Because she was a coward. But then, until tonight, so had he.

“The back door is locked. I can get the front on my way out.”

His way out. He was leaving. And she’d be alone. “Great,” she said, her tension tangling in knots in her stomach.

Her nervousness must have come across loud and clear. “If you don’t feel safe, maybe you shouldn’t stay here. Call a friend.”

Sara shook her head, embarrassed to admit the truth. “I don’t know anyone around here.”

If he wondered why she didn’t when she’d lived here longer than he had, he didn’t comment on it. His expression didn’t change. “Get a hotel room for the night.”

“Maybe I will,” she said halfheartedly, already thinking of all the things she’d have to do. It would take her a while to get some things together—another reason she should have put her overnight bag for the hospital together by now—and she’d have to call a cab to take her, since she didn’t trust herself to drive in her current state. Given how fast she moved these days, it would probably be dawn by the time she made it to a hotel. Hardly worth the trouble, since she didn’t think they would try anything in broad daylight.

It was the hours until then that worried her.

“Well, if you stay, I wouldn’t worry about it,” her neighbor said. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she replied, because there didn’t seem to be anything else she could say.

For a long moment he didn’t say anything either or make a move for the door. She felt a brief hope that he might linger. Desperation fueled the feeling from a flicker to a full-blown inferno that swept through her.

Please stay.

It was such a ridiculous impulse she didn’t even start to open her mouth to form the words. She didn’t know this man. He didn’t owe her anything, had already done more for her than most people would have bothered with, risking himself to come over and investigate. Asking for anything more would be too much.

But if he offered to do it himself…

He cleared his throat, not looking at her. “Okay, then. Good night.”

Disappointment washed over her, the feeling too familiar to have much of an impact.

“Good night,” she murmured.

He turned and walked out of the doorway. She listened to his heavy tread retreating, the sound of the front door closing, then to the empty silence echoing around her.

Apprehension clawed up her spine, prickling at the nape of her neck. She scanned the familiar space of her living room. The bookshelves filled from top to bottom on one wall. The comfortable, mismatched furniture, each piece personally chosen. She tried to tell herself that she was just as safe here as she’d been before she’d gone to bed. Maybe the officers were right. Maybe it had just been a bad dream.

Maybe…

But try as she might, she couldn’t make herself believe any of it. The truth remained too vivid in her memory.

She unconsciously rubbed a hand over her belly. “Just you and me, little guy,” she whispered, getting a kick against her palm in response. She couldn’t be disappointed. It was how she’d expected it to be from the beginning. Just her and the baby.

She’d just never felt more alone than she did in that moment.

Or more afraid.

JAKE TRIED NOT TO FEEL guilty as he left his neighbor’s house. She’d be fine. He’d talked to the cops himself, heard how they hadn’t found anything. They’d seemed convinced she’d just had a bad dream, fueled by pregnancy hormones and a lack of sleep, and suffered an extreme reaction, firing at phantoms that weren’t there. It made more sense than people breaking in to her house to attack her and leaving no trace of their presence behind.

Besides, he couldn’t let himself get involved. A pregnant woman, with no sign of a father in the picture, was exactly the kind of woman he couldn’t be around. She could grow attached too easily, come to depend on him. And he didn’t have anything to offer her, or her kid.

His reasons made sense. They just didn’t help erase the uneasy feeling that dogged him as he made his way back to his house.

She’d seemed so sure.

The look in her eyes tugged at him. When she’d stared at him over the gun. When they’d said their goodbyes moments ago. There’d been dark shadows beneath her eyes, a sign that she wasn’t sleeping much, as she’d said. But her eyes had been clear and focused. Afraid.

And sure.

His gut clenched. Was it possible? The cops hadn’t ventured much beyond the house, finding enough, or not enough, there to satisfy their belief that she’d imagined the whole thing. But then, there’d only been two of them, not really enough to do a thorough search. If they thought something had really happened, they might have called for more officers.

He stopped midway between his house and hers, considering. If someone had broken in to her house, they’d probably used the back door, the one he’d found unlocked. And they likely wouldn’t have approached the house from the front and made their way to the back from there, in plain view of the street. They would have approached from behind.

He slowly turned in that direction. Several rows of trees lined the backs of their houses, forming a thick natural border with the homes on the other side. If someone had broken in to her house, the best way to approach—and to disappear—was through the trees, maybe even parking in the driveway of the house on the other side. He didn’t know for sure, but he thought he remembered something about that house being empty. There would be no one to notice a vehicle arriving in the middle of the night and making use of its driveway.

Before he could question the impulse, he quickly moved back to his truck and retrieved a flashlight, then headed toward her backyard. It was a cloudy night, the moon only briefly and occasionally showing itself. The trees lay covered in darkness.

Switching on the light, he reached the edge of the woods behind her house and floated the beam across the ground. It didn’t take him long to spot where the dirt had been disturbed. He crossed to the location and leaned closer, having no trouble identifying the marks.

Fresh footprints.

There was no reason they should be there. He couldn’t picture his neighbor wandering around back here, leaving a cluster of footprints in shoes that looked too big to be hers. He didn’t know why someone from the other side would be over here, even if the house was occupied. She might have had somebody working in her backyard, although he couldn’t think of a reason they’d have been back this far. Not to mention the lawn didn’t look like it had been mowed that week.

The prints were messy and indistinct, as though whoever had made them had been moving too quickly to leave much of an impression. Quickly, as if they were running from a pregnant woman with a gun?

Jake stared at the marks for a long moment, trying to convince himself he wasn’t putting more stock in them than he should be. He had no reason to believe the impressions were connected to what had happened in her house tonight, and every reason to believe nothing had occurred.

Unless the intruders had been so careful to leave no trace of their presence that in their haste they overlooked this one, maybe counting on someone to discount it.

Unless he’d just missed them disappearing into the darkness as he came around the side of the house.

Unless he was already inside when they started their vehicle and drove away, if the sound had even been audible from the house.

Troubled by where his thoughts were leading him, he headed back to his house. He couldn’t call the cops with something so inconclusive. They hadn’t been inclined to believe her. He didn’t think they’d be happy to be called back for this, if they did come back. He wondered if he should tell his neighbor. She might feel better knowing there could be reason to think she was right. Or she might be better off believing she wasn’t instead of scaring her more.

Remembering the pills he’d dropped in the driveway, he started to the front of the house. He was almost there when he saw it. A car parked on the other side of the street, facing him. It sat just out of reach of the nearest streetlamps on either side, the faintest edges of their glow falling mere feet short of illuminating it. Instead, it was nearly invisible, a dark-colored sedan blending into the shadows. Still, he could see the single figure sitting in the front seat. And though he couldn’t see the person’s face, he suddenly knew without a doubt the driver was watching his neighbor’s house.

He’d kept an eye on the street while they had waited for the police. The car hadn’t been sitting there then.

Before he even thought about it, he started toward the vehicle.

He’d barely gone three steps when the driver suddenly jerked forward in his seat. The engine roared to life. Jake started to pick up speed, muscles tensing in readiness to break out into a run. That damn pain shot down his leg, causing him to miss a step.

The sedan burst forward, leaping away from the curb and onto the street with a screech of its tires. He could do nothing but watch the car tear down the street, moving so fast he couldn’t even get the license plate number.

Biting back a curse, he drew in a ragged breath. His shoulders slumped, seeming to weigh a thousand pounds each. He should be used to his body failing him by now. That didn’t make it any easier to take.

He’d started to turn back toward his house when his gaze fell on his neighbor’s. The curtain in the front window shifted slightly. She must have looked out to see what the noise was.

Grimacing, he changed direction, heading for her front door. The curtain shifted again. He knew she was watching.

By the time he made it to the door, she was already opening it a crack, peering out over the chain she kept fastened. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think you were imagining anything.”

Her eyes went wide. She slammed the door shut. He heard the sound of the chain being withdrawn before she pulled the door open farther, the other hand braced protectively on her belly.

“What are you talking about?”

“There are fresh footprints by the trees behind your house. And that car was sitting across the street. I think the driver was watching your house.”

She swallowed hard, looking as if she was going to be sick. “I knew it was real.”

“They could come back. You shouldn’t stay here.”

“I have my gun.”

“Next time they might, too.”

He saw the words hit home. She gave her head a shaky nod. “You’re right. I’ll go to a hotel or something….”

Her voice wobbled just the slightest bit, enough that he felt it like a low blow in his gut. She looked scared and vulnerable, as if she wanted to look over her shoulder and make sure there was nobody there, waiting to jump out at her from inside her own home. Which suddenly seemed all too possible. Hell, how did either of them know somebody hadn’t managed to break back in again? They had already managed to do it one time without leaving any trace.

As if she was thinking the same thing, her other hand went to her stomach, her arms stretching low. She looked as if she wanted to wrap her arms around herself.

No, not herself. Her baby.

Something painful hit him in the chest. Hard.

“You can stay with me.”

The words came out on their own. Even as he said them, it seemed as if someone else was doing so. She looked just as surprised to hear them as he was, blinking up at him, her mouth falling open in a soft O.

“Just for tonight,” he said roughly. “Until you figure out something else.” Part of him wondered who he was saying it for, her or himself.

For a long moment she didn’t say anything, staring at him, her eyes round and dazed. Then she nodded unsteadily. “Okay. Just for tonight. Let me get a few things.”

She retreated back into the house. He watched her waddle away. He knew letting her stay with him was the right thing to do. She shouldn’t be alone, not in her condition, not the way she was feeling. That didn’t stop him from wanting to call her back and revoke the offer. The uneasiness had returned with a vengeance, clawing at his insides with greater ferocity, for entirely different reasons than before.

Because he’d seen something else, too, shimmering faintly in her big brown eyes.

Gratitude.

And he knew more than ever that he’d finally made the mistake he’d been avoiding from the first time he’d seen the pregnant woman next door.