CHAPTER TWO

      NINA RECOGNIZED THE skepticism in the room, and frustration welled inside her. She’d been a fool to come here, to hope that someone would finally listen to her.

      That they would open a case that had been closed for nearly a decade—actually a case that had never been opened.

      Even her own father thought she’d lost her mind and that she should let it go.

      It was the reason she hadn’t spoken to him in months.

      She glanced at the only female in the room, hoping she’d at least piqued her interest enough to take on the investigation, but pity darkened her eyes and she made no offer.

      Irritated at them all, and with herself for thinking she might have found an ally in this group, she gritted her teeth. “Fine, if you won’t help me, I’ll ask around again myself.” Although she knew that would lead her nowhere. Most of the people she’d talked to knew her story and thought she should get psychological help, not a detective.

      She had just reached the doorway when one of the men said, “I’ll take the case.”

      Uncertain that she’d heard him correctly, she froze and slowly turned around. The intense man who’d sat next to Gage McDermont stood. “My name is Slade Blackburn, Miss Nash. I’ll look into your child’s disappearance.”

      Nina blinked in stunned shock. Of all the men at the table, he’d acted the coldest, looked the hardest. He was tall and big, his broad shoulders stretching the confines of his black button-up shirt. Jeans hugged his thighs, thighs that looked like tree trunks compared to her own.

      Her gaze fell to the scar down the left side of his cheek, a knife wound that had to have been done fairly recently. Tousled brownish-black hair fell across one eye, and he swept it back with his hand. A hand also scarred with a jagged cut.

      This man looked intimidating, impressive, like a fighter.

      “Slade,” Gage began, but the man cut him off with a dismissive gesture that seemed to surprise his boss.

      “You don’t have another case you need me on right now, do you, boss?”

      “No,” Gage said. “But you just returned from one. I figured you might want some time off.”

      “No,” Slade said in a deep take-charge tone. “I came here to work. I like to stay busy.”

      The woman spoke up next. “We’ll help any way you need us.”

      A chorus of agreements and nods followed, and Nina finally released the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you.”

      Slade didn’t acknowledge her thanks. Instead, he gestured toward the door. “I’d like to talk to you in private, ask you some more questions.”

      Nina’s chest tightened. Searching for Peyton would mean opening old wounds, but she had to suck up her pride.

      She’d do anything to find her daughter.

      * * *

      SLADE ESCORTED NINA to his office and gestured for her to sit. “Would you like coffee or some water?”

      Her delicate body collapsed into the chair as if she were too weary to stand any longer, and the temptation to comfort her hit him.

      But that would be a mistake.

      “Water, please,” she said in a low voice.

      He disappeared for a moment, went to the kitchen then returned with coffee for himself and a bottle of water for her. By the time he walked in, she’d straightened her shoulders as if regaining control and bracing for an interrogation.

      His suspicions mounted. What was she hiding?

      “All right,” she said. “What did you want to ask me?”

      He offered a small smile as he settled at his desk, hoping to relax her, but she clenched the water bottle in a death grip.

      “I need some background information,” he said, then reached for a legal pad and pen. “Tell me the date of your daughter’s birth. And her name.”

      “I named her Peyton,” she said, then gave him the date and time of her birth. The realization that she’d counted the birthdays since made compassion twitch at his veneer.

      “You said she was in the NICU?”

      “Yes, she was premature,” Nina said. “A seven-month baby. She had trouble breathing at first, and weighed a little over four pounds.”

      His gaze shot to hers. “Any other problems?”

      “She was only a day old. The doctors planned to run more tests… They thought she might have had vision problems…”

      Slade swallowed. If someone had kidnapped this preemie, and she had had health issues, she might not have survived afterward. He needed to check old police reports to see if any premature infants had been abandoned around that time.

      Or if any infants’ bodies had been found.

      Damn. The thought made his own stomach roil. He couldn’t imagine the torture this woman had suffered. The fear, the horror stories of other abandoned babies she’d heard about on the news, the not knowing or thinking that each time an infant’s body had been discovered that it might be hers…

      Forcing his mind back to his job, he glanced at her ring finger, but it was bare. No tan line where a wedding ring might have been either.

      “Who was the baby’s father, and is he still in the picture?”

      She glanced down at her hands. “His name was William Hood. He was nineteen, and I was eighteen at the time. And no, he’s not in the picture.”

      “Tell me what happened between you.”

      Her gaze flew to his, anxiety lining her face. “Is it really necessary for me to go into this?”

      Slade leaned forward, his arms on the desk, his expression neutral. “I know this is difficult, but you came to me for help, Nina. If you want me to investigate, I need to know everything about that time in your life.” He swallowed. “And I mean everything. So don’t hold back or lie to me or I’m off the case.”

      Anger glittered in her eyes, but she gave a nod. “All right.”

      “How did William react to the pregnancy?”

      “Not well. He had a scholarship to Duke, and didn’t want his life interrupted.”

      “But your life was,” he said calmly.

      A tiny smile slowly softened her eyes. “Yes. Even though I was young and the pregnancy was a surprise, I really wanted the baby. I felt connected to her immediately.” Her hand automatically went to her stomach, and an image of a young, naive girl flashed in his head.

      One who would have made a wonderful mother.

      Slade