by Elle Kennedy
His mouth was set in a straight line as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m going to find your daughter.”
She couldn’t tear her eyes from the perfect, tiny creature sleeping in the crib. She’d never seen a more beautiful infant. Those impossibly long eyelashes, the cherubic cheeks and red, cupid’s bow mouth. The baby’s chest rose and fell at each breath she drew into her little lungs.
Emotion filled her heart, spilling over and spreading through her body.
Was this what love felt like?
The baby stirred in her sleep, sighing softly. It was physically painful to look away, but she had to make sure the changing table was stocked with all the items she’d requested. She moved across the room, smiling at the bright yellow curtains hanging on the window. She would have liked to paint the walls yellow, too, maybe put up a pretty border with clowns or balloons, but this was a log cabin, and there wasn’t much she could do.
She bent down in front of the cabinet beneath the changing table, nodding in satisfaction when she saw that there were plenty of diapers, wipes, talc and anything else she might need.
A soft wail broke the peaceful silence. Lucy was awake!
She practically sprinted to the crib, eagerness soaring through her like birds taking flight. The baby had been sleeping since they’d arrived, but Lucy was up now, and she couldn’t wait to hold her.
“Hi there, baby girl,” she said as she reached for the drowsy-eyed infant.
Lucy blinked a couple times, then stared up at her in confusion. Another cry left her lips.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m here. Mama’s here.”
Chapter 7
The next morning, Sarah stared absently out the window of Finn’s Jeep, feeling unsettled as they drove in the direction of her house. She’d thought she’d be overjoyed to be out of that cell, that she’d throw herself on the ground and kiss the dirt, thanking God for her freedom. But the prospect of walking into her empty house and not seeing Lucy made her heart weep.
Her daughter was still missing. Despite Finn’s promise that he’d bring Lucy home, he hadn’t made any progress last night. She knew he’d been up all night, driving around town and knocking on doors with Max Patton and some volunteers, but they hadn’t found Lucy during their search. An alert had been put out, and the media was all over the abduction—Sarah had flinched when she’d heard the radio story blare out of the speakers in Finn’s Jeep.
“Woman accused of murdering Serenade resident Teresa Donovan is in the news once again! Reports are stating her three-month-old daughter has been abducted. An Amber alert has been issued….”
The press was eating it up, and even though it killed her to hear the things they were saying about her, she would suffer through it as long as people were looking for her daughter.
The judge had been surprisingly kind to her during the bail hearing this morning. Although he’d frowned and huffed about how he didn’t like granting bail in a murder case, Sarah’s distress over her missing daughter must have tugged at a couple heartstrings, because eventually he’d approved her bail, under the fervent protests of the district attorney. She’d had to put up her house as bail, and the electronic bracelet strapped around her ankle was humiliating beyond belief. But Jonas Gregory had insisted on it. Called her a flight risk.
Where exactly would she flee? she’d wanted to shout. Her daughter had been kidnapped, for Pete’s sake. Until Lucy was safe in her arms again, she had no intention of going anywhere.
“Don’t forget, you need to change the batteries every twenty-four hours,” Finn spoke up, sounding extremely uncomfortable. “Otherwise the thing starts beeping.”
She lifted her head. “What?”
“The ankle bracelet.” He heaved out a breath. “You have to change the batteries or else it beeps and alerts the D.A. Same thing if you step out of the boundaries we programmed into it. You can’t leave Serenade.”
Her cheeks scorched. Was this what her life had become? A woman charged with murder, forbidden to leave town, kept on an electronic leash to make sure she stayed put. Oh, and her child was missing. How could this be happening?
She drew in a breath, forcing herself not to break apart in sobs. She had to be strong. Lucy was out there somewhere. The sweet baby she’d waited so many years for had been abducted because—because what? Why on earth would someone want to take Lucy?
In spite of her resolve, tears stung her eyes. “Why would someone take her?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Finn said gruffly. “But we’ll find her, Sarah.”
“You sound so sure.”
“That’s because the alternative is too damn horrific to contemplate.”
His honesty sent a cold shiver through her body. She didn’t fault him for it. Finn had always been excruciatingly blunt with her. Didn’t beat around the bush, or make excuses. She’d appreciated it then.
Now…well, now, the very fact that an alternative existed—not finding Lucy—scared the living hell out of her.
She watched the scenery whiz by, recognizing the turnoff onto her property. The house she’d inherited from her aunt was kind of isolated, tucked behind a small forest with a gurgling creek running through it. Growing up here, away from the bustle of town, had been lonely, to say the least. But she welcomed the silence now. She wasn’t sure she could face anyone in town at the moment.
God, what they must think of her. Did they believe she’d murdered Teresa Donovan? Did they think that her daughter’s abduction was the perfect punishment for the crime?
“What if they took her to punish me?” she blurted out, unable to keep the frightening thought to herself.
Finn slowed the Jeep, stopping right in the middle of the dirt path leading to her house. “Nobody is punishing you,” he replied firmly, reaching across the seat divider to take her hand. He squeezed it, hard, his warmth seeping into her palm and heating her frozen body. “You didn’t kill Teresa, and you didn’t deserve to have your daughter taken away from you.”
She swallowed. “But someone else might think I’m a killer. Maybe that’s why they took Lucy.”
“We don’t know why Lucy was taken.” His jaw went stiff. “But I won’t rest until we find out. You have to believe me, Sarah.”
“I do,” she whispered.
Looking satisfied, he moved the gearshift and drove up the driveway. Her two-story farmhouse came into view, with its slate-green roof and white exterior. Sarah was startled to see several cars parked on the dirt. She recognized Jamie’s SUV and the second Jeep from the Serenade Sheriff’s Department, but the two unmarked sedans were unfamiliar.
“Agent Parsons is here,” Finn said, following her gaze. “And several other agents flew in this morning to help with the search for Lucy.” He hesitated. “Try not to antagonize Parsons, okay? The man is a loose cannon and we can’t have him getting in our way.”
Nodding weakly, she unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the Jeep. Outside, the weather matched her turbulent mood. The sky was overcast, gray clouds rolling in from the east, leaving the air damp and cold. She inhaled the scent of impending rain; she’d always loved a good rainstorm. Right now, though, the cloudy sky only depressed her. She’d been stuck in that basement cell for two days, eager to get out and breathe some fresh air, but she suddenly wished she could crawl back into the dark cavern and bury her head under the covers. She couldn’t face all those people inside. Parsons and the federal agents. Jamie.
Finn had said Jamie blamed herself for Lucy’s abduction. He’d told her the other woman was terrified of looking into Sarah’s eyes and confessing her failure to protect the child. More tears pricked her eyelids. God, she didn’t blame Jamie. From what Finn had told her, the assailant had been hell-bent on getting his hands on Sarah’s daughter. Jamie hadn’t even had a chance to protect either of them.
To her surprise, Finn took her hand as they walked to the front porch. Two days ago, she would have shrugged out of his grip, told
him she didn’t want anything to do with him. She didn’t do that now. Every muscle in her body vibrated with fear. She felt as if she’d been beat up, kicked, punched, thrown to the ground. Finn’s touch steadied her. Soothed her.
His hand was the only thing that felt real right now.
When they entered the house, she heard voices wafting out of the large living room to the left. She fought the impulse to run upstairs and avoid the imminent questions. Or at least to shower and change—she’d been wearing these jeans and this blue turtleneck for two days already. But she couldn’t dodge the inevitable. Breathing deeply, she squared her shoulders and followed Finn down the hall, knowing she’d have to face everyone sooner or later. Finn said the federal agents were anxious to speak with her about Lucy and who may have taken her, and Sarah would do anything to get her baby back, even confront Parsons and his crew.
“Sarah!”
Jamie jumped off the couch and ran toward her the second she and Finn appeared in the doorway. Sarah instinctively opened her arms, expecting Jamie to embrace her, but the auburn-haired FBI agent halted abruptly, guilt flooding her violet eyes.
“Sarah,” Jamie stammered. “I’m so sorry. God, you don’t know how sorry I am. He came out of nowhere, hit me before I could—”
Sarah took the other woman into her arms before Jamie could even finish. After a moment of stiffness, Jamie hugged her back, her slender frame shaking. “It wasn’t your fault,” Sarah said, fighting another rush of tears. “I know you did everything you could to protect Lucy.”
Jamie pulled away with an impassioned look in her eyes. “I’m going to get her back for you. I won’t give up until we find her.”
“Ms. Connelly?”
Sarah turned to the four people in black suits staring expectantly at her. Parsons was standing by the window, a slight frown on his face. The other three were on the couch, two men and a woman, each one sporting a grave expression as they introduced themselves to her. Several coffee cups sat on the long wood coffee table, all filled to the rim, obviously untouched. Finn had given Jamie the key to Sarah’s house and asked her to wait with the federal agents, but apparently the Bureau’s people weren’t interested in coffee or pleasantries.
And they got right down to business after Sarah settled on an armchair across from the couch.
“Do you have any idea who might have kidnapped the child?”
“Do you have any enemies we need to be aware of?”
“Is the father in the picture?”
The questions flew from their mouths like shells from a shotgun. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Sarah let out a breath, then focused on the first question, posed to her by one of the males, Agent Bradley. With a head of thick black hair and kind brown eyes, he looked far warmer than Mark Parsons.
“I have no idea who might have taken her,” she said softly. She turned to the Agent Andrews, a petite blonde with freckles. “And I don’t have any enemies. None that I know of, anyway.”
“And the child’s father?” the third, Agent Ferraro, prompted. Now he reminded her of Parsons—he had that same shrewd glint in his eyes.
“I don’t know who the father is,” she confessed. “I adopted Lucy three months ago, through an agency in Raleigh. Her original birth certificate wasn’t in the file—apparently, the birth mother wanted to remain anonymous and the head of the agency said she hadn’t listed a father. They issued a new certificate for me, naming me as her mother, with the father unknown.”
“Do you have records of the adoption?” Parsons drawled from the window.
Her spine stiffened. What the hell did he think, that she’d kidnapped Lucy herself? “Of course I do,” she replied in a frigid tone.
He offered a cheerless smile. “We’ll need to see those.”
“And pictures,” Agent Andrews spoke up, sympathy glimmering in her eyes as she turned to Sarah. “We’ll need the most recent photographs of the child.”
Sarah was already standing up. “I have everything in my study. I’ll go get it.”
“I’ll join you,” came Parsons’s snide voice.
She tried to hide her lack of enthusiasm. She got the feeling he was coming along to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t try to shred the documents or something. Finn trailed after her, too, the annoyed look on his handsome face telling her he wasn’t happy with Parsons, either.
The study she used was on the second floor, three doors down from her bedroom. The spacious room consisted of a walnut desk that held her desktop computer, several filing cabinets she used for her business, and a bookshelf crammed with paperbacks and art books. Moving toward the tallest filing cabinet, she bent down and opened the bottom drawer, flipping through folders until she found the one she was looking for.
She stood up and held out the folder to Parsons, who was watching her with narrowed eyes.
“It’s all there,” she said, cringing at the defensive note in her voice. “The records from the adoption agency, Lucy’s birth certificate, her medical records.” She swallowed. “Her entire life is in there.”
What life? Lucy was three months old. God, her daughter hadn’t even lived yet. And now…now she was gone, and who knew what the person who took her was doing to her.
Suddenly feeling weak, Sarah sagged against one of the cabinets, fighting to collect her composure.
“Sarah,” came Finn’s rough voice. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“I…I’m fine.” She took a calming breath. “I just had a moment of panic.”
Parsons moved his head back and forth between them, narrowing his eyes even more.
“What?” Sarah finally snapped. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just pondering, that’s all.” He tilted his head, a lock of blond hair falling onto his forehead. “Where’s your daughter, Ms. Connelly?”
She stared at him in bewilderment. “What?”
He moved closer, a patronizing light in his eyes. “Do you know where she is?”
“Why would I—” She stopped, her spine going rigid. “You think I had something to do with this.”
When he didn’t answer, an eddy of anger swirled in her belly, joined by a rush of disbelief. How could anyone possibly think she’d had anything to do with her daughter’s abduction?
“You son of a bitch,” Finn muttered, taking a step toward the agent. “Are you accusing Sarah of kidnapping her own daughter?”
“Just looking at every angle,” Parsons replied, unfazed. “In the majority of child abductions, a family member is usually the culprit.”
Sarah bit back a growl. “Do I have to remind you that I was in jail when my baby was taken?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps you had someone on the outside helping you.” He shot Finn a pointed look.
Sarah balled her hands into fists. “I cannot believe you’re even suggesting this! I did not arrange for my child to be abducted!”
Parsons edged off to the side, as if he thought she was going to pounce on him—which she was seriously tempted to do. Taking a long breath, Sarah forced her feet to stay rooted to the floor. She could only imagine what her face looked like right now—wild eyes, tight features. She had to calm down. Parsons already thought she was a murderer. She refused to give him any more ammunition against her.
Exhaling slowly, she met the man’s eyes. “I have no idea where my daughter is, Agent Parsons, and I suggest you stop interrogating me about it and go out and do your job.”
Parsons frowned. He looked ready to say something nasty, but Finn spoke up before he could open his mouth. “Sarah, can you find those pictures?”
She held Parsons’s gaze for another second, then gave a brief nod. Turning away, she headed to the bookshelf and grabbed a red leather photo album from one of the shelves. Fortunately, she’d developed a ton of digital prints only three days before she’d been arrested. She flipped through the pages to find suitable photos, her heart jamming in her throat as Lucy’s angelic face stared up at her.
Her hands started to tremble. Each photo sent a hot blade of agony to her chest. Lucy sleeping in her crib. Lucy lying on her back, kicking her little feet in the air as she stared at the lens. Lucy smiling her adorable toothless smile.
Battling the pain shooting through her, she selected three of the most recent pictures and silently handed them to Parsons. He tucked them into the file folder she’d given him, then exited the study without a word, leaving her and Finn alone.
Sarah looked down at the open photo album in her shaky hands, then met Finn’s surprisingly gentle eyes. “She’s gone, Finn. My baby’s gone.”
He moved toward her, his stride long and quick. A second later, she was in his arms, her face pressed against his collarbone, the album still in her hands, crushed between them. She felt his heartbeat hammering against her breasts, matching the frantic pounding of her own pulse.
Running his hands over her lower back, he held her tight and murmured, “You’re not alone, Sarah. I’m here for you.”
All his words did was bring another jolt of pain to her heart. Yes, he was here, and yes, his comforting embrace was so achingly familiar she wanted to cry again. But that didn’t mean she wanted to rely on him. Lean on him. This man had hurt her. He’d abandoned her. He was the last person she should be seeking comfort from.
Regaining her senses, she slowly moved out of his arms and rubbed her tired eyes. “I’d rather Lucy was here,” she whispered.
A cloud of torment darkened his eyes. She knew she’d hurt him by saying that, but she couldn’t stop the resentment suddenly lodged in her chest. He was here. Now. But what about before? What about when she’d needed him then?
“Sheriff, I’d like it if you joined us,” came Parsons’s voice, the sharp order drifting in from the other room.
Finn swallowed. “I…we should go back out there.”
She avoided his gaze. “Can you give me a minute? I just…” Her eyes dropped to the photo album. “I just need a minute.”
He nodded. “Come when you’re ready.”
And then he was gone, and Sarah let out a breath, walking on numb legs toward the desk chair. She sank down, still holding the album. She opened it to the last few pages, which contained the pictures she’d taken only last week by the circular fountain in the town square. Martha, the owner of the diner, had been walking by, and Sarah had asked the older woman to take a few shots of her and Lucy.