Saving His Son. Rita Herron
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could almost feel him in her arms. She could hear him crying for her, she knew he was out there somewhere. He needed her. And if Forbes didn’t intend to help her find the truth, she’d find someone who would.
Gavin McCord’s handsome face flashed before her. Emotionless, calm, a tough cop—afraid of nothing, He would never let anything stop him from doing his job. She wrapped her arms around herself, aching for his comfort, but he was the last person on earth she wanted to ask for help. Although he hadn’t known about the baby, when she’d tried breaking the news about her pregnancy, he’d cut her off as if he’d guessed her news. His parting words haunted her. “I’m not cut out for marriage, Linds. Don’t want a wife or kids—ever.”
Well, that was fine. She didn’t want a husband, either. She’d had one, and he’d been trouble. First she’d discovered his gambling problem, then he’d embezzled funds from his own law firm. When she’d divorced him and decided to testify against him, he’d tried to kill her. Gavin had been assigned to protect her. That last night before she’d testified, they’d both crossed some invisible line…they’d slept together and made a baby. Only Gavin hadn’t wanted a relationship…
She refused to beg for Gavin’s love. But she needed his expertise right now and she would beg him to find her son if she had to.
“ANOTHER CASE well done.” Gavin’s superior, Lieutenant Peterson, slapped him on the back.
Gavin shrugged. “Yeah, one dealer down. A zillion more to go.” He rolled his left shoulder to relieve the throbbing sensation that had escalated in the last hour. He’d taken a bad punch, had a few bruises to show for his work.
“You’re getting cynical in your old age,” Peterson said with a wry laugh.
“Goes with the territory.” Gavin bit off the end of a stale eclair, frowning as the white creme squished out the sides and dribbled over his fingers.
Peterson dropped a folder on his desk. “Get that report on my desk before you leave, McCord. Then what the hell, take a day or two off. You deserve it.”
“Don’t go overboard,” Gavin drawled sarcastically, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I’ve only been undercover for three weeks, with no sleep I might add.”
“You do look like hell,” the lieutenant added.
Gavin rubbed a hand over three weeks’ growth of beard. Too tired to get up, he lifted his booted feet, planted them on the top of his desk and leaned back in his chair as Peterson loped out. He thumbed through the papers, stacking a few of them in his To Do pile, when a plain manila envelope caught his eye. He picked it up and studied the envelope. No return address. No postage meter or stamp. Hmm, odd.
His curiosity piqued, he ripped it open and removed a sheet of paper, his eyes narrowing when he noticed letters cut from a newspaper forming the words An Eye For An Eye. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Who in the hell sent this?”
Not that he didn’t have enemies. Jeez, the problem was he had too many.
LINDSEY STOOD outside the Raleigh police department, her stomach twisting.
Gavin might not relish seeing her or hearing she’d given birth to his baby, but he thought like a cop, acted like a cop. He would take her case. She’d make it plain she hadn’t come to him to resume a personal relationship, the same way he’d made it plain he didn’t want one with her. Other than that one night of incredible sex.
But she wouldn’t repeat her mistakes.
And if Gavin hated her because she hadn’t told him about their son, well…she’d get over it.
Right now, her son was the only person who mattered.
GAVIN WAS STILL contemplating who might have sent the unnerving note, An Eye For An Eye, when the door screeched open.
“Someone here to see you, McCord.”
All thoughts of the anonymous note flew from his mind when Lindsey Payne stepped through the door—what was she doing here? He thought she’d disappeared from his life forever.
Peterson waved her in and left, and Gavin clamped his jaw tight, fighting his gut reaction—lust. Need. Want. For a woman he couldn’t have.
She moved toward him and his breath hitched in his throat. She wore her silky blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the starkness of her high cheekbones. Dark smudges curved beneath her eyes and a denim jumper hung on her slender frame as if she’d lost weight. Her pale complexion alarmed him. Even so, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d dreamed about her too many nights to even count.
Lindsey tipped her head, her smile weak. “Gavin.”
He straightened, instinctively aware something was very, very wrong. Her once vibrant eyes were hollow and empty, sending his protective instincts kicking in. Even when Lindsey had been threatened by her ex, she’d been a fighter. The strange mixture of courage and vulnerability had been one reason he’d been unable to resist her that last night. Now, she looked almost fragile.
“What’s wrong, Lindsey? Faulkner hasn’t been harassing you, has he?”
She sank into the hard wooden chair. “No, not exactly.”
Gavin filled a cup with water and handed her the cup. “Here, drink this and take a deep breath. You look awfully pale.”
“I’m okay.” Lindsey accepted the glass and drank, her hands shaking.
He gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. “Why are you here, Lindsey?”
She bit down on her lower lip, a small nervous laugh escaping her. “Don’t worry, Gavin. This is not a social call. I didn’t come back—”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” His heart squeezed at her cryptic tone. The Lindsey he knew never sounded cynical—not like him.
She inhaled a fortifying breath and he gestured toward the door. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”
Her brown eyes studied him pensively, and he remembered too late she’d asked him the same question the last time she’d seen him. He’d just testified against a murderer, only the man he’d testified against had threatened retribution to him and everyone Gavin knew. He’d immediately relived his childhood fears. Only this time he wasn’t the kid. He was the man whose loved ones had been threatened. He’d panicked and told her he didn’t want her. Didn’t want a relationship. Marriage. A family. Ever.
“Your office is fine. I came here…to ask for your help.” Her voice sounded stronger, but her fingers fumbled over the handles of her leather purse as if she were reconsidering the idea.
He stroked his beard with his chin, faintly aware her hand followed the movement. “What kind of help do you need? Money? Legal advice?”
“No.” Her eyes darted toward the closed door. “I need your services as a detective.”
“You came here to report a crime?”
“Sort of…yes.” Her back stiffened as if she didn’t know where to begin.
He’d seen the same nervous reaction when she’d confessed about her ex-husband’s illegal activities. “Take your time, and tell me what happened.”
She nodded, seemingly grateful for his encouragement. “I…I had a baby a few weeks ago.”
His heart thundered in his chest, his mind automatically ticking away the months.
The air caught in his lungs.
“But the doctor told me my baby died. I think he may have lied,” she continued in a shaky voice. “And I want you to help me find him. Or at least find out the truth. To find out if my baby is alive.”
The air caught in Gavin’s lungs. He leaned against the front of his desk and folded his arms. “Tell me something, Linds.”