Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby. BEVERLY BARTON
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had left for Memphis around eight-thirty last night and called after he arrived at the hotel. Leenie and Kate had sat up until after two this morning, watching television, talking, looking through magazines, listening to Leenie’s substitute on WJMM’s late-night talk show. They had done anything they could think of to kill time. At midnight, while listening to the radio, they made fudge and devoured a third of what they’d prepared. As if by silent agreement, they hadn’t mentioned Frank or Andrew. At two, they’d gone to their separate bedrooms and Leenie had tried her best to sleep. She had tossed and turned for hours. Finally giving up hope of getting any rest, she’d flipped on the bedside lamp and searched for a romance novel in her stash of to-be-read paperbacks. As entertaining as the book was, Leenie simply could not concentrate enough to do the story justice, so around four-thirty, she’d taken a shower and put on jeans and a sweatshirt.
As she passed the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the hallway, she caught a glimpse of her image. She looked bleary-eyed and somber. Her damp hair was secured in a loose ponytail. Faded jeans hugged her hips and legs. A comfy green fleece sweatshirt with an enormous sunflower in the center gave her otherwise pale appearance a touch of color. All-in-all, she was a pitiful sight.
She wondered if Frank had gotten any sleep last night. Probably not. If only she’d gone with him, at least they’d be together right now. But Frank had needed to make the trip to Memphis alone. She understood. And deep in her primitive feminine heart, she loved him all the more for wanting to play the role of her protector.
How was it possible that her whole world had become condensed into one event—into what happened this morning in Memphis, at some immoral, moneyhungry lawyer’s office? Two FBI agents would once again pose as prospective parents, but would they get to see the two infants who were available for adoption? Would one of those babies be Andrew? If Andrew hadn’t been kidnapped in order to sell him to the highest bidder, then she might never know his fate. Could she live that way, never knowing?
When Leenie entered the kitchen, she glanced at the wall clock. Five-fifteen. The meeting was set for nine o’clock this morning. Less than four hours from now. But how long would it take the agents to report back to Moran if they did get to see the babies? It was possible that even after the meeting, they still wouldn’t know if Andrew was one of the two infants.
While preparing the coffee machine, she stared at the telephone. She wanted to talk to Frank, to hear his voice. But he might be asleep. She shouldn’t disturb him.
She reached out and jerked the receiver from the wall phone, then glanced at Frank’s cell number, which he’d jotted down on the bulletin board by the telephone. After dialing, she suddenly had second thoughts and started to hang up, but Frank answered on the second ring.
“Latimer here.”
“Frank?”
“Leenie? Honey, are you all right?”
“I’m okay. I didn’t sleep much.”
“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
“No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “I’ll bet you didn’t either.”
“I closed my eyes a few times, but…We’ll both sleep once I bring Andrew home.”
“I—I want you to know that if neither baby is Andrew—” Emotion tightened her throat. She swallowed. “It won’t be your fault, so don’t blame yourself.”
“We can’t lose hope, even if neither baby is Andrew. He’s out there somewhere. We’ll keep searching.”
“I’m going to hang up now.” Her voice quivered. “Before I start blubbering.”
“Yeah, we don’t want that, do we? If you start, I might, too. And that would blow my macho image to hell and back.”
“Nothing could destroy your macho image, least of all crying for your lost son.”
“Leenie…I…keep praying, will you?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Yes…please…”
“Bye, Slim.”
“Bye.”
With the dial tone humming in her ear, Leenie stood there and forced back the tears that ached inside her. These next few hours were going to be the longest of her life.
By the time Leenie downed her second cup of coffee and was munching on a slice of buttered toast, Kate entered the kitchen. Wearing a pair of flame-red sweats, her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders, Kate looked like a teenager, all fresh-faced and glowing with good health.
“How long have you been up?” Kate asked, as she headed for the coffeepot. “Or should I say how long have you been in the kitchen? I figure you’ve been up most of the night.”
“I came in the kitchen about forty-five minutes ago.”
“Hmm-mmm.” Kate poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat across from Leenie.
“I called Frank.”
Kate raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
“He’s going to call back the minute he knows something,” Leenie said.
Kate took a sip of coffee, clutched the mug with both hands and looked right at Leenie.
“I hope and pray one of those baby boys is Andrew. But while you’re hoping for the best, you have to prepare yourself for the worst.”
“I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t want to think about what it’ll mean if—”
“It doesn’t mean you have to give up hope. As long as you don’t have proof that Andrew is dead, then no one can take your hope away from you,” Kate said emphatically.
Leenie stared at Kate, puzzled by the fierceness in her voice, by the resolute certainty of her statement. “What is it that you still hope for, Kate?”
Gripping the mug she held as if it were her anchor in a stormy sea, Kate closed her eyes for a split second, then opened them and looked directly at Leenie again. “I hope that out there somewhere, my little girl is alive and well and somebody is loving her and taking good care of her.”
Rendered speechless by Kate’s honesty, Leenie gaped soundlessly, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Although she had suspected Kate had lost a child, hearing her admit it tore at Leenie’s heart. “Was your child…your daughter kidnapped?”
“Yes. Mary Kate was barely two months old when it happened.”
Kate inhaled and exhaled slowly. Leenie figured the deep breathing technique was a tool Kate used to keep her emotions in check. Despite her in-control-at-all-times facade, Kate occasionally let her vulnerability show. And Leenie liked her all the more for those tiny lapses.
“Mary Kate was kidnapped eleven years ago,” Kate said. “At the time, we thought she’d been taken for ransom because my husband—my ex-husband now—is a member of a very wealthy and prominent family.”
“But she wasn’t taken for ransom?”
Kate shook her head. “The FBI was brought in, of course, and we waited for the call or the letter to tell us how much money the kidnappers wanted. But there was no call. No letter. Trent hired a private firm to search for our daughter, but they never found her, of course. And after a while, Trent convinced himself that Mary Kate was dead.”
“What made him think she was—”
“Nothing in particular. I believe it was the only way he could cope with what had happened. He loved her as much as I did. We just coped with her loss in different ways.” Kate set the mug on the table and laid her hands flat against the wooden surface on either side of the mug. “We argued about it day and night. I told him he was wrong to give up hope and he told me I was living in a fantasy world if I thought we’d ever find Mary Kate,