Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | The Cradle Files

The Cradle Files
Delores Fossen


Months after Lexie Rayburn faked her own disappearance, someone injected her with a drug that robbed her of her memories, and kidnapped her newborn baby.Now, the only hope for locating her daughter rested on the too-broad shoulders of Garrett O'Malley - the one man she swore she'd never set eyes on again. But someone would stop at nothing to ensure Lexie never learned the truth about her baby's disappearance.Still, as the danger escalated, Lexie wondered which posed a greater risk: the killer on their trail or a reunion with her baby's father….









Garrett couldn’t deny Lexie.


He 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. He practically whispered it, but it still came through loud and clear like an order.

Lexie tried to follow his gaze, no doubt to see what had triggered his reaction, but he didn’t give her a chance. He 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 one of the French doors, pelting them with a deadly spray of splintered wood and broken glass….




The Cradle Files

Delores Fossen





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why Texas author and former U.S. Air Force captain Delores Fossen feels as if she was genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married a U.S. Air Force Top Gun, who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.




CAST OF CHARACTERS


Sergeant Garrett O’Malley—A bad-boy San Antonio cop with something to prove to himself and his high-achieving family. But his plans and his life take a dangerous turn when Lexie Rayburn, his former lover, returns with news that someone has stolen their newborn baby.

Lexie Rayburn—A ruthless doctor stole her baby minutes after she gave birth, and the doctor’s attempt to kill Lexie has robbed her of vital memories. But she has no trouble remembering the attraction she feels for Garrett. Unfortunately, a relationship with Garrett could cost him his badge and their lives.

Billy Avery—Lexie’s former boss who’s now behind bars awaiting appeal of a felony conviction. Would he have taken Lexie and Garrett’s baby as leverage to prevent Lexie from testifying against him if he’s granted a new trial?

Dr. Linnay Blake—Director of the clinic where the baby was stolen. Dr. Blake could be merely a scapegoat for the real kidnapper, or she could be behind a sinister plot to provide stolen babies to unsuspecting adoptive parents.

Alicia Peralta—The clinic nurse who tries to help Garrett and Lexie find their child. Are Alicia’s motives pure, or is she trying to steer them away from her own criminal activities?

Dr. Andrew Darnell—He’s the obstetrician Lexie believes tried to kill her. Unfortunately, there’s no proof, and with Lexie’s broken memories, the police have little to go on.

Irving Kent—Dr. Darnell’s attorney and the man linked to many suspicious adoptions. Is he responsible for the disappearance of Lexie and Garrett’s child?




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty




Chapter One


With water snaking down his body, Sergeant Garrett O’Malley headed toward the laundry room in search of a clean towel—something he wished he’d done before his shower. He only made it a step outside the steamy bathroom when he realized he wasn’t alone.

There was a shadowy figure standing at the other end of the dark hall.

Adrenaline knifed through him, and his heartbeat went into overdrive. He made a split-second assessment to make sure it wasn’t a family member. It wasn’t. And he automatically reached for his weapon, which obviously wasn’t there, since he didn’t have on a stitch of clothes.

He cursed.

Because that’s when he noticed the intruder was armed.

“Don’t move,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

She. It was definitely a female. Garrett didn’t hear enough of her voice, though, to recognize it. It was the same for the woman herself. She stayed in the darkness, her face and body hidden.

Well, if this was a robbery, she’d picked a good time for it. He was not only towel-less, he was totally unprepared. Garrett’s mind raced with questions. What did she want, and how the devil had she gotten in?

And did she have plans to kill him?

His cop’s brain immediately went to work, and within seconds he decided this wasn’t a good time for an all-out fight.

Not with her pointing that gun straight at him.

If he couldn’t talk her into surrendering her weapon, his best move would be to make a dive for his bedroom—where he’d left his loaded 9 mm, standard issue Glock on his dresser. Thankfully, his bedroom and that Glock were only about eight feet away, and the door was wide open.

Of course, being buck naked didn’t help.

And the dive onto the hardwood floor would hurt like crazy, but it was better than getting shot. He’d been there, done that, not once but twice, and he didn’t want to repeat the ordeal anytime soon.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” Garrett demanded while he calculated the best moment to disarm her or to begin that dive. If he could somehow distract her, that would help.

But he immediately rethought the idea.

Since she’d broken into the home of a cop and was holding him at gunpoint, she probably wasn’t the distractible type. If she knew he was a cop, that was. Maybe this was a random burglary. That didn’t make the situation any less dangerous. In fact, the stakes might escalate if she discovered who he really was. She might try to kill him just so she could eliminate a witness.

She stepped closer, toward the milky-yellow light that spilled out from the bathroom. Her cautious footsteps barely made a sound. But her breathing sure did. It was coming out in rough, hurried gusts.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

Garrett froze and put his Glock-retrieving plan on hold. Now he recognized that voice, and it set off all kinds of alarms in his head.

Not good alarms, either.

“Lexie?” he asked. “Is that you?”

She froze. For a few moments. And then she inched closer still. She stared at him and squinted, as if trying to peer through the darkness for a good look. Garrett did the same.

Yep. It was Lexie Rayburn all right, though he’d never seen her wear her hair that long or in that particular style. Her straight rust-colored locks fell choppy, loose and disheveled onto her shoulders.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been cursing a blue streak and had thrown her panties at him. Well, maybe not at him, exactly, but in his general direction.

He was lucky she hadn’t thrown something heavier and more lethal.

That throwing incident was… When? A few months shy of a year ago, when Lexie had walked out of his life. But she hadn’t just walked out. She’d left him with a lot of questions, no answers, and she’d put his badge on the line. Since his badge was the most important thing in his life, that had not sat well with him.

It still didn’t.

Garrett’s jaw tightened.

She moved even closer, and he got a better look at her gun. An RG .22, commonly referred to as a Saturday Night Special. Another surprise. The cheap, no-frills weapon wasn’t her usual choice of firearms, but then neither were the clothes. She wore loose faded jeans, scuffed Doc Martens and a baggy navy-blue flannel shirt that was frayed at the cuffs. It was at least two sizes too big and practically swallowed her.

“Garrett O’Malley?” she asked.

And it was definitely a question. No doubt Lexie’s version of sarcasm.

Oh, this was going to get messy.

He just stared at her.

“Are you Garrett O’Malley?” she pressed.

Riled at her dry-as-dust sarcasm, at the gun and at the woman herself, he opened his arms. “You tell me. You’re not seeing anything you haven’t seen before.”

He’d meant his remark to sting, a reminder that he’d been her one-night stand. Her choice. Not his.

She took his remark as an invitation. Her gaze combed over him, starting at his face. Her marine-blue eyes met his green ones. Briefly. And then she slid that gaze all the way past his bare chest and stomach to his equally bare groin.

Her eyes paused.

Considerably.

For a long time.

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so bothered by the close scrutinization from a lover, former or otherwise, but these obviously weren’t normal circumstances.

“Mind telling me why you’re here and what your plans are for that gun?” he insisted.

She nodded. Not a confident I’m-in-charge-here nod, either. It was shaky. In fact, there was something shaky about her entire demeanor. “I want answers.”

So, this was maybe a payback visit in order to rehash their last encounter. A blast from the past. Lucky him. “I don’t know the questions, but I have a few of my own. For starters, how did you get into my house?” Because he knew for a fact she didn’t have a key.

She tipped her head toward the kitchen. “The patio door. You left it unlocked when you took out the trash after you got home from work.”

Hell’s bells. Not the brightest move he could have made, especially for a cop. He’d made that little faux pas only about fifteen minutes ago, which meant she hadn’t waited too long to confront him. Maybe she’d delayed her entrance until he got in the shower so she could catch him when he wasn’t near his Glock. Or perhaps she’d waited until he was what polite company would call indisposed.

She’d succeeded.

He was as indisposed as he could get. Still, that theory only created more questions.

“Why the gun?” he asked.

She glanced at it and swallowed hard. “I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

“You can’t.” And that was a sore spot for him. Even now. “But then, I obviously can’t trust you, either. Still, a gun? Judas Priest, Lexie. That’s a little over the top, even for you.”

Her forehead bunched up. “I wanted to make sure you listened to what I had to say.”

“Oh, I’m listening. Pardon the pun, but I’m all ears.” Garrett turned toward his bedroom, but then stopped and looked at her. Actually, he glared. And he knew his glare was a winner. That particular facial expression alone had gotten perps to surrender. “I’m going to get dressed now, and I’d rather you didn’t try to kill me while I do that, okay?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond or concur with his smart-mouth challenge. Figuring that Lexie wouldn’t shoot him in the back, Garrett headed to his bedroom.

“Wait a minute,” she snarled. She hurried after him, but then stopped in the doorway. “Don’t just walk away from me. I’m holding you at gunpoint.”

“Believe me, I’m aware of that. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather not have this conversation or try to wrestle that .22 away from you while I’m buck naked. And make no mistake about it—I am going to wrestle that gun away from you if you don’t come to your senses.”

Besides, if this did turn into a wrestling match or even more, Garrett didn’t want his fellow peace officers to show up and find him wearing only his birthday suit and a glare. There had already been enough rumors and career-damaging innuendos as it was. He didn’t want to add this to the record, even if seeing Lexie brought back memories.

Both bad and good—and very, very good ones.

Riled not only at Lexie, but at himself and his too vivid, lust-induced reminiscence, Garrett grabbed a pair of Wranglers from the floor and slipped them on. Not easily. His still-soaking-wet body caused the denim to drag, catch and cling. Worse, it dragged, caught and clung while Lexie gawked at the entire awkward, semihumiliating process.

He didn’t let her gawking deter him, though. He zipped them up—carefully, since he wasn’t wearing underwear—while he also checked the position of his Glock. He didn’t relish the idea of drawing that gun on Lexie, but it was obvious she had a bone to pick with him. He didn’t want that bone-picking argument to turn into shots being fired.

Ironic.

Because he’d never thought of Lexie as dangerous. Armed, yes. Capable of kicking butt. But not lethal in a criminal, out-of-control sort of way. He was obviously wrong. Any woman who would pull a gun on him so they could talk had gone a few steps past that dangerous level and was definitely out of control.

What was wrong with her, anyway?

Yes, she had a right to be riled. But, heck, so did he. More so than she obviously was. Yet Lexie seemed to be putting all the blame on him.

“You didn’t wait around for the trial to end,” Garrett said, figuring his words would hit a few raw nerves. Because she hadn’t waited around for a lot of things—like to finish her testimony. Or even to say goodbye. “But I guess you know your former boss was convicted on all charges and is behind bars?”

“William Avery,” she said.

“William?” Garrett repeated. He stared at her. Well now, that confirmed something was truly wrong. Lexie always called her former boss Billy.

“I read about William, and you, on the Internet,” she continued. “That’s how I knew you were a cop. That’s how I figured out where to find you.”

Yet more confirmation that something was wrong. Lexie knew he was a cop, and she darn sure knew where to find him. “Are you okay?”

A soft burst of air left her mouth. Almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. Her voice was laced with fatigue and sarcasm when she admitted, “No. I’m not okay.” And she left her somewhat lame explanation at that.

“Did Billy’s…William’s friends threaten you or something?” It might explain why she was here. Maybe she’d come because Garrett was a cop. However, that was a stretch. There were a lot of cops in San Antonio, and he was almost certainly the last one she’d ask for help.

“Maybe,” she mumbled, as if she were considering that for the first time. “I don’t know if he’s behind this or not. But I don’t think so.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she blinked back tears.

Actual tears.

All right. That took a chunk out of the Texas-size chip Garrett carried on his shoulder. Here, he wanted nothing more than to tell Lexie that her untimely departure had not only left him in departmental hot water, it’d also put a few fractures in his desires to get involved in another relationship—ever. But Garrett put his own issues and old grudges on the back burner. After what she’d done to him, he didn’t care much for Lexie. In fact, what he felt for her fell into the strongly dislike category, but it was obvious she was in trouble. Unfortunately, that and the tears brought out protective instincts that he knew he stood no chance of suppressing.

Still, he’d try. Hard.

Because, after all, this was Lexie. He wasn’t ready to go a second round with her. The sooner he could get her out of his life, the better.

“Other than the veiled threats he made to you during the trial, I haven’t heard anything from Billy Avery,” he tried to assure her, while he calculated how he was going to subdue her so he could confiscate that gun. “In fact, he’s been a model prisoner. Probably because he’s hoping to have the murder and racketeering verdicts overturned on appeal.” With that, Garrett paused. Rethought. “He threatened you so you wouldn’t testify against him if he was granted a new trial?”

Lexie shook her head and left the doorway. She stepped warily into the room, her gaze darting around as if she expected someone to jump out from the corners. “I haven’t spoken to Billy Avery.”

Garrett believed her, especially since prison authorities would have alerted someone in the SAPD if Lexie had phoned or shown up at the prison. But believing her on that specific point didn’t help clear up everything else.

“Look, I could stand here and try to guess what’s wrong,” he stated, “but wouldn’t it be easier if you just told me what this is all about?”

She looked at him as if trying to decide what to say. Or what not to say. Finally, she nodded. Then nodded again. “Someone tried to kill me.”

Whoa. That got his attention. “Who?”

But he was already fairly sure of the answer. If someone had tried to kill her, then Billy Avery or one of his associates was likely behind it. That was the reason the cops and the feds had wanted Lexie in the Witness Protection Program. A program she’d declined by simply leaving and not telling anyone, including Garrett, her whereabouts.

He hadn’t thought for a minute that she was dead, either. She was too resourceful for that. So over the past months he had come to accept that she’d disappeared because of him. Their little encounter had nearly cost the state a guilty verdict for Billy Avery, and it’d nearly cost Garrett his badge. The flack hadn’t stopped there. His brother and sister, both fellow cops, had had their own sterling careers tarnished by standing up for him.

No. Garrett wouldn’t forget the mess Lexie had made of his life and the trouble she’d caused for his family.

“I don’t know who tried to kill me,” she said. “But that’s not the reason I came here.” Lexie plowed the fingers of her left hand through her hair and scooped it away from her face. It didn’t help. The loose strands simply fell back into place. “I need to ask you something, something personal, and I want the truth.”

Garrett waited. And waited. But she didn’t finish her request for information. She just stood there, tears threatening and her bottom lip trembling. He forced himself to stay put. Comforting could lead to holding.

Or shooting.

Neither was going to happen, not tonight. Not ever.

“You need to know what?” he pressed. “I’m not a mind reader, Lexie.”

Without breaking eye contact, and without lowering her gun, she sat down on the foot of his bed. The mattress creaked softly.

She pulled in a long, weary breath, released it. “Are you the father of my baby?”




Chapter Two


“Am I what?” Garrett O’Malley demanded.

But he didn’t just demand it. His hands went to his hips, and he pinned his Celtic-green gaze on her. With that stare, he questioned her integrity. Her presence.

And her sanity.

Lexie was right there with him. She, too, was questioning a lot of things, her sanity included. It was probably a huge mistake to come here like this, but she hadn’t had a choice. She needed answers, and Sergeant Garrett O’Malley was the person most likely to have them.

Not exactly a comforting thought.

It was obvious that he hated her. Why, she didn’t know. But from the few things she’d learned, he probably had good reason to. It was possible she had reasons to hate him as well.

“I asked if you’re the father of my baby,” Lexie clarified, though she was certain he’d heard her.

Hearing and grasping, however, were two different things. She’d basically just delivered a bombshell and was giving Garrett O’Malley mere seconds to absorb it. Heck, she’d had days and hadn’t fully managed to, and what she had managed to understand, she didn’t like.

She was in a lot of trouble.

But then, perhaps, so was Garrett.

She’d save that news for later. First, there was the issue of paternity.

“Well?” she prompted.

Lexie saw the moment that her bombshell actually registered. His eyes widened. Every muscle in his body seemed to turn to iron.

“Oh, man.” He groaned and stepped back, his chest pumping as if he were suddenly starved for air. “Was that an honest-to-goodness question?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” And she tried to brace herself for an equally honest answer. He held her life, her heart and her future in his hands, and he didn’t even know it.

Yet.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Only to open it again so he could curse. “Why are you doing this?”

She ignored his question. “Did we sleep together?”

“No.” He said it without a shred of hesitation.

Lexie’s heart sank to her knees. Oh, mercy. Had she gotten this all wrong?

Garrett let that unhesitant no bristle between them while he stared daggers at her. His mouth tightened into a semi-sneer. “But we did have sex,” he clarified. “You left before either of us could get any sleep.”

The relief flooded through her. Why, she didn’t know. Other than the fact O’Malley was a cop, he didn’t seem like the best choice for fatherhood or a likely candidate to help keep her alive. From what she’d read about him, he had a penchant for attracting trouble. That penchant apparently included attracting her, as well.

“So, we weren’t in love or anything like that?” she questioned.

“No.” He practically spat out the word. More profanity followed. “If you want to put a label on it, we were in brief, temporary lust.”

Yes. She could see that. Garrett O’Malley was, well, hot by anyone’s standards.

Especially hers.

Even with the fatigue and the relentless haze in her brain, she couldn’t deny that. He was lean and lethal, just over six feet tall, with a body and face that had probably garnered him many invitations to women’s beds. Not exactly the knight in shining armor type with those jeans that clung to every part of him.

Heck, he wasn’t even the cop type.

With that sopping wet, a-little-too-long, bronze-colored hair, hint of desperado stubble and bad boy demeanor, he would have been more at home on a Harley.

Or in a police lineup.

“Lust,” Lexie mumbled. She’d counted on something more. Much more. Because she desperately needed his help. Still, lust would have to do, since it was all she had. “Did we have sex about nine and a half months ago?”

Oh, that riled him. She saw the anger flash in his eyes. It merged with the confusion and the profanity that was already there.

“You know we did.” He stepped closer and aimed an accusing index finger at her. She wanted to get off the bed and move back. To keep her distance. But if she tried to stand up now, she’d risk falling flat on her face.

That would hardly be an effective bargaining position.

“So, what the hell is this all about?” he asked. “And while you’re explaining, get to the part about me being the father of your baby. Are you actually saying you were pregnant?”

She considered her answer. There was only one way to go with this—she had to tell him the truth. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure just how much was true and how much was a product of the drug that’d been used to try to murder her.

“Let me start from the beginning.” Lexie paused. “Or at least what I know to be the beginning. I haven’t seen a doctor, but it seems as if I’ve, uh, lost some of my memory.”

His accusing finger dropped slowly back to his side, and even though his mouth didn’t gape, it came close. “You have amnesia?”

She nodded. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Lexie tried not to huff at his sarcasm. They had too many battles ahead of them without him questioning everything she said. “Maybe is as good of an answer as I can give you right now. That’s why I pawned my necklace and bought the gun. Because I didn’t know if we were friends or enemies.”

“There’s a lot of gray area as far as our relationship is concerned. And some not so gray,” he gruffly added. But the gruffness eased a bit when he continued. “You pawned your necklace—the gold rose with the diamond in the center?”

It was an odd question, but it also seemed important. She nodded. “Was the necklace a gift from you?”

“No. We didn’t exchange gifts. Your father gave it to you. I’m just surprised you’d be willing to part with it.”

She’d parted with it because she hadn’t known its value, and because she’d needed money to survive. However, knowing now that her father had given it to her made her ache at losing something so precious.

Of course, she’d lost something else far more precious.

“Why don’t we get back to your explanation?” Garrett insisted. “Approximately nine and a half months ago, we were together in a hotel room in downtown San Antonio.”

“Having sex,” she provided, latching on to the information as if it were nuggets of gold. Which in a way it was. Everything she could learn might bring her closer to unraveling this puzzle inside her head.

He confirmed that with a nod. “Afterward—”

She held up her hand. “Don’t go there yet. Why was I in a hotel room with you having sex?”

The question earned her a blank stare. Hooking his thumbs into the waist of his jeans, Garrett leaned against the wall. “You honestly don’t remember?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking. I’m not here to relive our past.”

“Right. You’re here because you want to know if I’m the father of your baby.” More skepticism. Lexie totally understood his reaction. But she could also see that he was mentally doing the math. Nine and a half months ago fit with the other pieces of the puzzle.

She nodded. “And because someone tried to kill me.”

His left eyebrow arched. Not exactly a vote of confidence. “Okay, I’ll play. We were in a hotel room because you were in my protective custody. You were a material witness for your former boss, Billy Avery, and you testified against him for racketeering. Well, partly testified. You made it through the first day of questioning, but you left before you could finish.”

“I was Billy Avery’s bodyguard,” she supplied.

He made a sound of agreement. “You remember that part, so your amnesia must be cured.” More cynicism. Perhaps his way of coping. Or better yet, his way of tap-dancing around the other subject.

The baby.

“Not really,” Lexie explained. “I read about it in the newspapers I found on the Internet.” The images of those articles began to race through Lexie’s head. She’d been having a lot of those lately. Unfocused thoughts. Blurry images. Lots and lots of confusion.

She didn’t need the mental clutter now.

She had to focus.

“So, after I testified, we had sex….” Lexie almost had a duh moment and asked why again. But all she had to do was look at Garrett O’Malley and she knew the reason why. The lost memories hadn’t dulled her physical reaction to this man. “Then, it’s my guess something happened to cause me to leave?”

He didn’t answer right away. “I think Avery’s threats maybe got to you. You were scared.”

She suspected he was omitting something important. “Anything else that might have contributed?”

“We argued.” Just that. Tossed at her like a gauntlet. “Now, can we get to the baby part? If you have amnesia, how do you even know you had a child?”

Without loosening her grip on the gun, she caught her bulky shirt and lifted it so he could see the trio of pale, thready stretch marks on her stomach. “I think I remember going into labor three weeks and two days ago. That date is fixed in my head. I believe that’s because the whole time I was in labor, I kept thinking that it would be my baby’s birthday. But everything’s jumbled. So, I could be wrong.” A massive understatement, and it didn’t apply just to her thought process but to her entire life. “Mercy, I know how all of this must sound.”

“No. You don’t. I step out of my shower, go in search of a towel and instead get held at gunpoint by an amnesiac woman who thinks I might be the father of her child. But the problem is, other than a few stretch marks, she’s not even sure she had a baby.”

Oh, Lexie was sure of that. Hard to forget the god-awful pain that had made her feel as if she were being ripped in two. And then, after hours and hours, the pain had stopped. She’d heard that soft, kitten-like cry. Even now, with all the uncertainty, that cry still got to her. That was her baby’s cry, and no one could make her believe differently.

Grumbling something under his breath, Garrett walked closer, and closer, until he was practically looming over her. “Lexie, you need to put down that gun so I can take you to a doctor.”

She frowned. She hadn’t wanted the conversation to move in this direction. And she darn sure hadn’t wanted him that near to her, either. “You mean a shrink? You don’t believe the baby part.”

He made a sound that could have meant anything. Or nothing. “We only had sex once, and we used a condom.”

Yet more unexpected information. She was getting a lot of that tonight. “Then something went wrong.”

She tried to force her brain to remember exactly what. But it was useless. Forcing only seemed to make her memory cloudier.

Frustrated with herself she shook her head. His simultaneous movement registered just a second too late.

Garrett reached out.

Lightning fast.

And just like that, he snatched the gun from her hand.

He didn’t stop there. In a little maneuver that was practically a blur, he came at her. Lexie turned, to try to scramble away from him, but Garrett practically tackled her. The momentum sent them both crashing onto the overly soft bed. He twisted his body to take the majority of the impact. But then he turned. Trapping her. So that she couldn’t move.

Fighting through the initial panic, she took a moment to assess her situation. And it wasn’t a very good assessment. Garrett was on top of her, his body completely covering hers. She was no longer armed.

But he was.

With her gun.

Even if he hadn’t had a weapon in his right hand, his body would have certainly been classified as one. He was all sinew and muscle.

And he was all over her.

His right leg was wedged between hers. His chest squashed against her breasts. Their middles aligned perfectly, as if they were about to have sex.

That alignment didn’t bring back any memories.

However, it did remind her that he was a very virile man.

As if she needed anything to remind her of that.

What was wrong with her, anyway? Her brain was messed up. So was her body. Only three and a half weeks ago she’d given birth, and here she was reacting to a man who for all practical purposes was a stranger. Maybe this was a bad case of postdelivery hormones. If so, it was a sick trick to play on her.

Because Garrett was so close, Lexie caught his scent. His ocean-scented deodorant soap. His shampoo. His spearmint toothpaste. And beneath all the toiletry stuff, his own scent was there. All man.

Not that she’d had any doubts about that.

“Well?” he said. Definitely not a question, but more like a challenge. It had a tinge of a Texas drawl and a hefty amount of anger in it.

He didn’t believe her.

For the first time since she’d started this fiasco, Lexie was truly afraid. “What are you going to do to me?”

He blinked, surprised, as if genuinely insulted. “I’m not going to kill you, that’s for sure. If I’d wanted you dead,” he informed her, enunciating each word carefully, “you already would be.”

Because she couldn’t let him think she was weak, Lexie hiked up her chin and met him eye to eye. “I could say the same thing,” she retorted.

Okay, so that was a lie. But maybe Garrett didn’t know that, and right now, she’d do whatever it took, including an attempt at intimidation, to get his cooperation. She had to make him believe her because she needed his help.

He shifted slightly, so that his thigh wasn’t pressed against the V junction of her jeans. “If the condom failed, then I have just one question,” he said. “Where’s the baby?”

It was the only question that mattered.

The memories of the delivery came flooding back. The pain. God, the pain. That tiny cry. And just like that, Lexie found herself blinking back more tears.

So much for her attempt at appearing strong and sturdy.

She was failing at a lot of things tonight.

“I tried to stop it,” she heard herself say. Mercy, her voice was ripe with fatigue and weariness. “But the man was too strong.”

Garrett eased off her. “The man who tried to kill you?”

“No. This man was there when I delivered. With the doctor. The doctor had slightly graying hair. He was tall, with wide shoulders. And he shoved a needle in my arm. It was filled with some kind of drug. I think it was the drug that left me with all these gaps in my memory.”

Garrett stood, staring down at her. “Then how do you know the baby isn’t a drug-induced figment?”

“She isn’t a figment,” Lexie insisted. “She’s real.”

Garrett paused. “She?”

“I didn’t actually see the baby, but I’m positive it was a little girl.”

His expression softened. Briefly. And then the concern returned and settled into his eyes. “Lexie, what happened? What did this man do?”

She wasn’t even sure she could say the words aloud. Just thinking them nearly ripped her heart apart.

“He stole the baby. And we have to find her, Garrett. One way or another, we have to get our daughter back.”




Chapter Three


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.




Chapter Four


It took a moment for Lexie to figure out what was happening. One second the French door was there. A second later, there was a gaping hole in it, and Garrett and she were being pelted with glass.

“He used a silencer,” she heard Garrett say. Somehow. With her pulse pounding she was surprised she’d managed to hear anything.

But she fully understood that someone had just tried to murder them.

Lexie’s heart kicked into overdrive. She hadn’t thought her life could get any more complicated, but she’d obviously thought wrong.

“There are three of them out there,” Garrett announced. “Maybe more.”

Oh, God. It just kept getting worse. “All armed?”

“I only got a glimpse, but it appears that way.”

The adrenaline and the fear slammed through her. Lexie wasn’t helpless, but she certainly wasn’t mentally or physically prepared to take on gunmen who would brazenly fire shots into a cop’s house.

“I guess this isn’t a good time for me to say I told you so,” she mumbled. “You didn’t believe me when I said someone was after me.”

“Can we put this argument on hold, huh?” he snarled. “We’ve got a situation here.”

Yes, a situation they might not survive.

Garrett scrambled across the room, and even though he’d turned out the lights, there was enough illumination from the moonlight filtering through the French doors that she could see him reach for his gun. In another smooth move he slid her weapon across the floor to her. Lexie took the cue and tried to retrieve the ammunition that he’d expelled minutes earlier. There was just one problem: she couldn’t find it.

“I-told-you-so’s aside, who’s out there?” Garrett asked. He hurriedly locked the bedroom door. The simple gesture was a sickening reminder that the gunmen might not stay outside. They’d likely come in after them. “What are we up against?”

She waited a moment, praying the answer would come to her. It didn’t. “I don’t know.”

And she didn’t. Unfortunately, there were a lot of things she wasn’t sure of, but she was certain of one thing—this attack was meant for her. Maybe it was the doctor. Or the man who’d actually stolen her baby. Maybe it was both. At this point it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was staying alive so they could find their daughter.

“Call for backup,” Garrett ordered, crawling across the room to the window. Using his bare foot, he kicked the ammunition and sent it rolling her way. “The phone’s next to the bed. Stay low.”

Lexie scooped up the bullets and reloaded as she scurried to the phone. She yanked it from its cradle, her index finger already poised to dial 911, but there was no dial tone.

“It’s not working,” she relayed to Garrett. “I think they cut the line.”

He cursed. “You don’t happen to have a cell phone on you?”

“No.”

He mumbled something she couldn’t distinguish. “Mine is in the kitchen.”

“Enough said,” she mumbled back. Because she knew the kitchen had lots and lots of windows, plus a glass patio door. Going in there would be suicide. Besides, it was probably the area the gunmen would no doubt choose to break and enter. It’d certainly been her first choice to gain access to the place.

Garrett lifted his head for a quick look out the French doors. It was necessary, she knew. He needed to assess the situation.

But she also knew he’d just risked being shot.

He’d put his life on the line, not necessarily for her, though. He was, after all, a cop through and through. And Lexie was counting heavily on that. Because she needed all his cop skills, all his resolve—everything—to get out of this and find the baby.

“Are they still out there?” she asked, and was almost afraid to hear the answer.

“I don’t see them.” He paused. “That doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

Lexie silently agreed. She seriously doubted the gunmen would just leave. Which meant that Garrett and she needed a plan. There was just one problem. Three gunmen, maybe more, and she couldn’t even remember if she knew how to shoot straight.

“I know how to use this gun, right?” she whispered.

“You know how.” He glanced at her and made eye contact from across the room. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to get the opportunity to prove it.”

“You have a better idea?”

“A better idea than shooting our way out of here? Yeah, I think I do. Follow me.”

Crawling across the glass-littered floor, he went to the door that led into the hall, and pressed his ear against it.

She made her way toward him. To his side. And listened as well. She heard the mechanical rhythm of the air conditioner, but nothing else.

Garrett reached for the doorknob.

Lexie reached for him, latching on to his wrist. “We’re going out there?”

“We don’t have a choice.” His voice was strained and had little sound. “We have no way to call for backup, and with those silencers we can’t count on the neighbors hearing anything and calling the cops.”

It all made sense. Unfortunately. They couldn’t just stay put. There was nothing to stop the gunmen from crashing through those French doors.

“You’re just going to have to trust me on this,” Garrett said.

He didn’t give her time to respond. He took her hand from his wrist and opened the door. Just a fraction. He glanced out into the hallway and must have approved of what he saw, or rather what he didn’t see, because he whispered, “Let’s go.”

Crouching, Garrett opened the door wide and had another quick look before he started out of the room. He moved in bursts, his vigilant gaze darting around the hall.

Lexie followed. Staying low. And keeping a firm grip on her gun.

They went toward the kitchen—the last place on earth she’d thought he would go. And that put a substantial dent in her resolve to trust him. Still, she continued to follow him, and she continued to pray. They had to make it out of this. Failure was not an option.

Lexie forced herself to remember her baby’s cry. It was the only thing she could remember about the child she’d given birth to. But that cry was enough to sustain her, and Lexie held on to it as they inched their way across the kitchen floor.

The room was dark. Not by accident. She’d turned out the lights before she’d gone into the hall to confront Garrett. Maybe, just maybe, the darkness would shield them so they could go wherever Garrett was taking them.

She heard a sound. Not the baby’s cry that she’d fixed in her head, but a snap. As if someone had stepped on a twig. The sound was close. Too close. It had likely come from the backyard, mere feet away.

Garrett paused. Lifted his head, listening. Another snap, closer this time. The doorknob on the kitchen door moved. Someone was testing to see if it was locked. Thankfully, it was. But that testing caused Garrett to look over his shoulder at her.

Even with just the dim moonlight, she saw his expression. Saw the question on his face. “I locked the patio door when I came in,” she whispered. “I was afraid someone might follow me. Obviously, I was right to be afraid.”

Not that a locked glass door would provide them with much protection.

Garrett evidently knew that as well, because he didn’t look for his phone. He went straight to the laundry room, which was little more than a corridor. He didn’t stop there. He reached up and grabbed keys from a wooden rack mounted on the wall, and unlocked the door that led into the garage.

There was a crash of glass from the kitchen. The gunmen were either inside or would be within seconds. Lexie felt another slam of adrenaline, and it gave her the jolt of energy that she needed.

Garrett opened the door and caught her arm, practically dragging her into the garage. He didn’t waste a moment. He yanked open the driver’s door of his vintage black Mustang and shoved her inside. Lexie scrambled into the passenger’s seat so that Garrett could get behind the wheel and start the engine.

“Hang on and stay down,” he warned.

And with that, he gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and gunned the motor. The car bolted forward, crashing through the garage door.



GARRETT HAD HOPED that his garage door wouldn’t put up much resistance, but unfortunately, it did. A slab of it landed right in the middle of his windshield. The safety glass cracked, webbed and otherwise obstructed his view, but it stayed firmly in place.

He didn’t dare put down his window and stick his head out so he could navigate, either. Not with three gunmen in the area. But he did turn on his headlights and floored the accelerator. He braced himself for the gunmen to shoot at them, braced himself for an all-out attack, and tried to keep his own gun steady.

“I don’t think they’re following us,” he heard Lexie say.

He glanced at her and saw something that caused his blood pressure to spike.

She was looking out the back window.

Garrett immediately shoved her back down in the seat. “What part of stay down didn’t you understand?”

“I might have to return fire. You concentrate on getting us out of here. I’ll do what I need to do.”

He couldn’t argue with that. It was reasonable. Well, semi-reasonable. There wasn’t a lot about this situation that qualified as reasonable. Still, he truly might need her to return fire if this evolved into a gun battle. He didn’t like the three-to-one odds if he had to do this alone. But then, he didn’t care much relying for backup on someone with memory issues.

Garrett checked the side mirror and was a little surprised at what he saw. He was also slightly relieved. An empty street stretched out behind them. So maybe the gunmen hadn’t pursued them. For now, anyway.

But he couldn’t count on them just giving up.

“Go back through the bits of memory you have,” Garrett insisted. “And come up with a theory as to who just tried to kill us.”

“The doctor with me during the delivery,” she readily answered. “The man who took the baby. Or the cop who ran me off the road.”

Three suspects. Three gunmen. Coincidence? “And you don’t know who any of these men are?”

She shook her head. “No. But I intend to find out.”

“Because they’re the only ones who might know where the baby is.”

He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. Heck, he hadn’t even meant to think it. He couldn’t devote a lot of mental energy to the baby now. Mainly because he didn’t know if there was a child. And if their daughter had actually been born, he needed to get Lexie to safety before he started to unravel this deadly puzzle she’d brought to him. Even if there wasn’t a child, it was abundantly clear that someone was after Lexie.

And him.

The shot that’d come through his bedroom could have been aimed at either of them. Or both. And if they hadn’t immediately turned out the lights and gotten down on the floor, Garrett had no doubts that there would have been a second shot. Probably a third. There would have been as many bullets as it took to eliminate them.

This had not been a warning. It’d been a cold, calculated attempt to execute them.

Why?

He checked the mirror again, and when he saw that things were still clear, he slowed to a reasonable speed and took the turn to the highway.

“Where are we going?” Lexie asked.

He didn’t answer her, because he knew it was an answer she wouldn’t like. Even with the possibility that a cop was involved in this, he had no choice. He was going to police headquarters.

Garrett only hoped it wasn’t a fatal mistake.




Chapter Five


Garrett took a huge gulp of the god-awful coffee that the rookie officer had given him, then he signed the statement he’d just prepared about the shooting “incident.” He hoped the caffeine would help with the headache that throbbed in both temples. Spent adrenaline was a witch to deal with, and he didn’t have the time to let the effects wear off naturally.

He needed a clear head, and he needed it now.

Across the room, seated on the break room sofa, Lexie was finishing up her handwritten statement and sipping coffee as well. She was also making the same disapproving expression at the bitter taste. Well, that was partly the reason for her expression.

Some of it was aimed at him.

All right. Most of it was aimed at him.

“I hope I don’t have to say I told you so again,” Lexie grumbled. Practically tearing through the sheets of paper with the tip of the pen, she signed her name to the report and tossed it onto the table.

It wasn’t the first time she’d voiced that complaint since they’d arrived at police headquarters an hour earlier. Garrett didn’t think it would be the last, either.

Nope.

He was in for a night of her complaints. Garrett just hoped those objections weren’t warranted. Because it might be awhile before he could figure out if coming here had indeed been a bad idea. It might be longer still before he could discover if there was a departmental leak. Or worse, a would-be departmental killer who had a penchant for running women off the road.

Garrett dropped his statement on top of Lexie’s and checked the clock mounted on the wall. His brother, Lieutenant Brayden O’Malley, would be arriving within minutes. The shooting and those gunmen put this case right in his brother’s lap. However, even if it hadn’t fallen within Brayden’s realm of responsibility, Garrett had no plans to go to anyone else. He’d already decided to keep this investigation close to the vest.

Or rather, in the family.

“We’re wasting time,” Lexie continued. She practically slapped the foam cup of coffee on the adjacent table, and got up to pace.

“We’re staying alive,” Garrett corrected. “That is what you want, right?”

Lexie stopped pacing only long enough to send a narrowed, fiery glance his way. “I thought you believed me about the baby.”

Her words sent a jab of pain through his right temple. He’d meant to set this whole issue aside until they’d resolved the gunmen situation, but he now knew he couldn’t. “I believe you believe it.”

She stopped again. Right in front of him. Mere inches away. “Refresh my memory—are you always this pigheaded?”

“Always.”

Lexie huffed and squared her shoulders. She was probably aiming for a show of strength, but failed miserably. Because there was nothing she could do to dissolve that look in her eyes. The pain.

The fear.

He wasn’t unaffected by that look, either. Despite all the bad blood between them, there were other things between them as well. The past that stained their present relationship was one he couldn’t forget.

With her broken memories, Lexie was lucky. In that respect. She probably didn’t remember the attraction that had started all of this. It was too bad he couldn’t give himself a little dose of selective amnesia. It would help him focus on getting those men who’d tried to kill them.

“I remember something,” she said out of the blue.

Garrett pulled himself away from the unwanted trip down memory lane so he could make eye contact. She was staring at him. No. She was studying him.

“You remembered who’s trying to kill you?” he asked.

She blinked. Shook her head. And it seemed as if she’d changed her mind about what she’d been on the verge of saying. “No. Not that. It’s not important.”

He grabbed her arm when she tried to step away. “Excuse me? Your memory returning isn’t important?” And he made sure his voice was dripping with cynicism.

“It’s not my full memory. It’s a memory. As in one. One memory that I shouldn’t have even mentioned.”

“Why?” he asked before he thought it through. And he was immediately sorry about that. Because he saw the blush spread across her cheeks. “Oh,” he mumbled. “You remembered us having sex.”

“Not quite. But I, uh, remembered the kiss leading up to it.”

That was some memory to regain. Garrett remembered that kiss, as well. Unfortunately, he remembered it in full, blazing detail. And probably because he was standing so close to Lexie, the memory was as crystal clear as the original.

“It’s still there,” Lexie said, looking up at him. “The attraction,” she explained.

As if he needed any clarification.

“It’s there,” he admitted, since a lie that big would have stuck in his throat. “But bad things happened the last time we acted on that attraction.”

She flinched. “You mean the baby.”

“No.” His quick response surprised him almost as much as it obviously surprised her. “If there is a baby, then that’s not a bad thing.”

He meant it. He’d never considered himself father material, but if there was a child, then he would love his baby and do whatever it took to get her back and keep her safe.

“Thank you,” Lexie whispered.

The emotion in her voice drew his gaze back to hers. “For what?”

“For caring about the baby.”

Oh, man. There were tears in her eyes. Tears! Again. He couldn’t keep resisting her. He would have almost certainly pulled her into his arms to offer what meager comfort he could offer.

But he didn’t get a chance.

“Want to tell me what’s going on here?” he heard someone ask.

But not just anyone. His brother, Brayden.

Garrett shifted his attention to the doorway and spotted his older sibling standing there. Even though Brayden had been called in well after normal duty hours, he still managed to look very much like a cop in charge. He was wearing khakis and a crisp white shirt. Tucked in, of course. He had his badge clipped to his belt.

Garrett suddenly felt very unprofessional in the black T-shirt and boots he’d grabbed from his locker. Still, the too casual attire was far better than the alternative. When he’d arrived at headquarters, he’d only been wearing jeans.

“Well? What’s going on here?” Brayden repeated. He glanced at Lexie, and though his expression changed only slightly, Garrett saw the disapproval in his brother’s eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” Garrett insisted.

And he knew his brother well enough to know that what Brayden was thinking wasn’t good. Brayden no doubt believed that Lexie was back in Garrett’s life. Not back in an ordinary sense, either.

But in a sexual sense.

His eyes met Brayden’s and a dozen questions passed between them. Before Garrett answered those questions, he motioned for his brother to come inside the break room, and Garrett shut the door.

“Lexie,” Brayden said in greeting, walking toward her. He reached down and picked up the statements from the table.

She shook her head, glanced at Garrett.

“She doesn’t remember you,” Garrett explained. “Someone gave her a drug, and it’s caused some memory loss.”

Brayden stayed quiet a moment, but Garrett knew he was processing the information. “And that’s why you’re here?”

“We’re here because Garrett thought he could trust you,” Lexie interjected. “Can he?”

“With his life,” Brayden readily answered. “But I’d still like an explanation about what’s going on.”

The three exchanged glances. Garrett decided to go first. “Someone fired a shot into my house tonight. There were three of them. All armed. I had to drive out of there fast.”

Brayden took a deep breath. “Were either of you hurt?”

“No,” Garrett assured him. “But we have a problem. I can’t ID any of the gunmen, and I have a feeling they aren’t going to stop with just this one attempt.”

“So, why haven’t you made this investigation official? Why call me in and close the door?”

Lexie stepped between them. “Because I have reason to believe that it might be a cop who wants me dead.”

His brother was very good at hiding his emotions but he wasn’t able to hide his shock, and perhaps his disbelief. “I’ll want an explanation about that, too.”

Before that could happen, there was a knock at the door, one sharp rap, and it opened. The rookie stuck his head inside. “Lieutenant O’Malley?” he said to Brayden. “Lieutenant Dillard is on the phone. He wants to speak to you.”

“Hell,” Garrett grumbled. Lieutenant Dillard was his boss, and since he wanted to speak to Brayden, that probably meant the conversation would be about Lexie and him.

“Did you happen to tell Lieutenant Dillard I was here?” Garrett asked the rookie.

“I did. Because he asked,” the young officer quickly added. “Your neighbor saw some suspicious men hanging around your house, and he reported it. The neighbor said someone bashed into your garage door.”

Great. This just kept getting messier and messier.

“I’ll be right back,” Brayden said, heading for the door.

“Wait,” Lexie called out. Brayden stopped and turned back around to face her. He met her gaze head-on. “Remember what I told you.”

She no doubt meant the part about the possible cop who’d tried to kill her.

“You’ll just have to trust me to do my job,” Brayden responded. With that, he turned and walked out.

“Trust,” Lexie mumbled. “It’s disconcerting how easily that word flows right off the tongue. Let’s hope it’s a word that actually means something.”

Garrett shook his head. “My brother won’t do anything to hurt us.”

“Maybe not intentionally.”

Since that was the truth, Garrett decided it was a good time to finish his coffee. Unfortunately, it was cold and had seemingly turned to gasoline. But because his head was still pounding, he forced himself to drink it.

Lexie sank onto the sofa with a heavy sigh and leaned her head against the cushion. “Why does your brother hate me?”

Garrett hadn’t been prepared for her question. “Who said he hates you?”

“I did. I could tell by the way he looked at me.”

And here he thought his brother had the ultimate poker face. “It has to do with what happened when your boss, Billy Avery, was on trial.”

“Oh. He thinks I helped Billy commit those crimes.” But then she hesitated. “No. What your brother feels for me is personal, isn’t it?”

Because of the headache, the fatigue, and because this was a subject he didn’t really want to discuss, Garrett nearly pulled a silent act. But this was bound to come up sometime or another, and he wanted her to hear it from him. Or rather, he wanted her to hear the sanitized version.

“Brayden doesn’t like you because when you unofficially left my protective custody, you officially put me in a really bad place with my boss and just about everyone in the D.A.’s office.”

She lifted her head, studied him. “I see.”

“The D.A. was lucky to get a conviction without the rest of your testimony.” And Garrett hadn’t wanted to think just how bad things could have gotten for him if Avery hadn’t been convicted. If he’d walked, the D.A. would have looked for someone to hang, and Garrett would have been the one they’d come after.

With reason.

He’d failed to do his job, by allowing a material witness to escape custody. Of course, he’d also failed to do his job by having sex with that witness. In this case, two wrongs definitely didn’t make a right.

“Your brother knows what happened between us?” Lexie asked.

“He knows.”

She stared at him. “And you still think he’ll be willing to help me?”

“I know he will.” But what Garrett didn’t know was the form that help might take. Brayden wasn’t the sort of cop to keep things under the table, but Garrett was hoping his brother would do it this time.

The door opened and Brayden came back in.

“Well?” Garrett immediately asked.

He frowned. “I chose my words carefully.”

Garrett didn’t know whose sigh of relief was bigger—his or Lexie’s. But there was no hint of relief in Brayden’s expression.

“Lieutenant Dillard knows that Lexie has some issues to be worked out. Personal issues that he’s agreed to let me handle at my discretion.”

That brought Lexie off the sofa. “You?”

“Me,” Brayden enunciated. “Because Lieutenant Dillard insisted that Garrett not have any official contact with you.” He held up his hand, cutting off the protest that Garrett was about to make. “Dillard is right. You can’t be involved in this, Garrett. Because if this—whatever this is—ends up going to the D.A., then it could cost you your badge. The D.A. hasn’t forgotten what happened the last time you were involved with Lexie.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/delores-fossen/the-cradle-files/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.