Kidnapping in Kendall County. Delores Fossen
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“Nearly a year ago,” he repeated. “She was your fiancé’s baby?”
Again, not a question that she’d expected. Rosalie nodded and tried to tamp down the massive lump in her throat. Her eyes burned with tears that she couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t help her baby now.
“Sadie...that’s what I named my daughter. She was born eight and a half months after my fiancé was murdered.”
The memories of that day came. Of his shooting. That horrible flood of images that just didn’t stop. So senseless. Her fiancé, Special Agent Eli Wells, had died because of a botched investigation, and Rosalie had wanted to die right along with him.
And then she’d learned she was pregnant.
The baby had saved her. Because she’d put all her love and emotions into surviving, into the pregnancy, so she could have the child of the man she’d loved.
“Someone stole Sadie from the hospital just a few hours after she was born,” Rosalie added, “and I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
His breath was thicker now, practically gusting. “She wouldn’t be here. They only bring newborns here, and they’ve only used this place for a couple of months.”
Yes, she knew that from the guard’s ramblings before he’d actually dozed off from the meds that she had slipped him. “I thought there would be records on the computer in a locked room of the house.”
“There are. But only for the babies being held at this location. You’re sure the black market ring took your daughter?”
“No.” And it hurt to admit that. She wasn’t sure of anything, but she’d exhausted her leads and had gone with this different angle. “A criminal informant said there might be information here.”
There was a lot more to it than that, but Rosalie didn’t want to rehash everything it’d taken to bring her to this point. All the lies, the payoffs and the bogus identity she’d had to create.
“Why haven’t you killed me?” she came out and asked. “And how do you know who I am?”
Again, he took his time, looking down at her as if trying to figure out what was going on. Rosalie was doing the same thing to him.
“What criminal informant did you use?” he asked, obviously dodging the questions.
Of all the things that were up in the air here, that didn’t seem very important. “A guy from San Antonio. Lefty Markham.”
He groaned, cursed and rolled off her and to his side. But he immediately pulled her against him. Face-to-face. Like a couple having some pillow talk after a round of sex.
“He’s your stepbrother’s CI,” he whispered. “Why the hell didn’t you bring Seth in on this?”
Seth Calder, not just her stepbrother but also an FBI agent. So, not only did this man know who she was, but he also knew details about her life that he shouldn’t know.
“Because Seth’s checking out another lead over in El Paso. The CI said the baby-holding area here at the ranch wouldn’t be here much longer.”
“It won’t be. The plan is to move tomorrow.”
Oh, mercy. So soon. “I need to see those records. Please help me. Please.”
Yes, she was begging but she would resort to a lot more than that to learn where her baby had been taken.
“I’m Austin Duran,” he said.
His voice was so soft, barely audible, but it slammed through her as if he’d yelled it.
“Oh, God,” she said a lot louder than a whisper.
“Yeah.” He moved away from her so they were no longer touching.
The name was as familiar to her as her own. But not in a good way. It was a name she’d cursed. A bogeyman who’d robbed her of her hopes and dreams.
The man who’d killed Eli.
Not in the eyes of the law, though, and it certainly hadn’t been labeled murder. But Rosalie knew that Austin Duran was the FBI agent who had botched the investigation that’d led to Eli’s murder.
“Yeah,” he repeated. There was a lot of emotion hanging on that one word. The pain. The memories.
Everything Rosalie was feeling.
“You thought I’d come here to kill you,” she mumbled. “You thought I was avenging Eli’s death.”
He didn’t confirm that. Didn’t need to.
“I didn’t get a good look at your face.” And that’s why she hadn’t instantly recognized him. Strange that she hadn’t sensed that he had been so close, because she’d spent all these months hating him.
And Rosalie would use that hate.
In fact, it could be better than a gun.
“You’re here undercover?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’m looking for...someone.”
She didn’t care about that. Didn’t care about anything right now but her daughter. That included choking back her hatred for this man and making this work for Sadie and the other babies who were being held inside so they could be sold like cattle.
“You owe me,” she insisted. “For Eli’s death. And you’re going to help me find his missing baby.”
Austin didn’t jump to do just that. He lay there, silent as death, and Rosalie was about to repeat her demand when she heard the sound.
Something she definitely didn’t want to hear.
Footsteps.
Those steps were the only warning they got before there was another sound. The door flew open, and Austin scrambled in front of her.
But it was too late.
Two armed guards hurried into the cottage, and both pointed assault rifles at them.
Austin had already spent the past twenty minutes or so cursing fate. And cursing Rosalie’s untimely arrival in the cottage. It wouldn’t do any good, but now he cursed the guards and those rifles trained on him.
“What the hell do you two want?” Austin growled, and he made a show of zipping up his jeans.
Austin didn’t know the guys’ names. Over the past week since he’d been undercover at the ranch, the flow of guards had stayed steady, none of them remaining in place for more than forty-eight hours. But it didn’t matter what they called themselves. Austin just needed to get them out of there.
“Well?” Austin added in his worst snarl. He made sure he sounded like the person in charge.
He wasn’t.
Heck, he didn’t even know who had that particular title of being in charge or who exactly was watching him on the camera. However, it was pretty clear that someone had gotten suspicious of Rosalie’s visit. The mock sex hadn’t fooled them, and if Austin didn’t do something fast to diffuse the situation, it could go from bad to worse.
The pair of guards exchanged glances as if trying to figure out what to do, but the guy on the right had a communicator in his ear, so he was no doubt receiving instructions.
“Why is she here?” The goon on the right tipped his head to Rosalie.
Austin gave him as cocky and flat of a look as he could manage. “Why do you think?”
“She’s supposed to be inside,” he snapped.
“The babies are asleep,” Rosalie volunteered as if that explained everything.