"Then we'll get the baby, sneak out and hurry back here," she finished. No need to dwell on the dozens of things that could go wrong between now and then.
"Yeah. And by then, Captain Thornton should have arrived. I called her about twenty minutes ago."
Rachel's head whipped up. "Thornton? Why would you call her?"
"To help wrap up things around here. I couldn't bring her in on this officially. Not with us breaking into the house."
She got that part. "That's the real reason we're not bringing Tanner with us?"
"Right. Even though he wanted to come, I need him here. But Thornton, well, that's a different matter. She never would have agreed to anything illegal. By the time she got the search warrants and assembled a team, it'd probably be too late. But I want her here to go in once we've gotten the baby out. I don't want anyone associated with this plan to walk. Thornton can help us with that."
Rachel carried that through to its logical conclusion. Thornton would arrange the arrests of the people in the house, but Jared's boss would take her in, as well. To testify and to answer any questions about the illegal things she and Jared had been doing to find the baby. Heck, Thornton might even arrest Jared.
So, this was essentially their D day. They had one shot to come out of there with the baby. Just one.
It had to count.
Jared curved his arm around her waist. "There'll be no turning back once we're on that boat. I really wish you'd stay here with Tanner—"
"I don't want to turn back. And I don't want to stay. I just want this to be over."
The sun dipped even lower, until only a sliver of light was visible on the horizon. She held Jared's hand and led him toward the boat.
"Hold up one minute." Tanner slipped his phone back in his pocket and hurried to them. "I could go with you."
"I'd rather you watch that bridge and the shore to make sure no one follows us." He reached in his pocket and pulled out his badge. "By the way, when Captain Thornton gets here, make sure she gets that."
Tanner reached for it, but Rachel latched onto Jared's wrist. "Wait a minute. Why are you doing this?"
"Because it'll save Thornton the trouble of asking for it, that's why."
She shook her head. "You don't know that. I can't believe you'd just hand…"
Jared stared at her when she hesitated. Even in the filmy light, she saw his eyebrow lift a fraction.
"Questions?" he challenged.
"No." But she certainly had some answers. Answers that she'd been asking herself for years. She knew how much it cost him to hand over that badge. Being a cop was one of the most important things in the world to him.
But obviously not the most important.
It broke her heart. And made her feel like a genuine fool for ever doubting him. Later, when this was over, she'd tell him that.
While she was at it, she'd also let him know that she'd fallen in love with him all over again.
Tanner took the badge, glanced at it and slipped it into his pocket. "You need any extra weapons?"
Jared shook his head. "I wasn't planning to do a lot of shooting. A quick in and out. If all goes well, we should be back in under an hour."
It was an overly optimistic guess, but Rachel didn't correct him. She said goodbye to Tanner and thanked him when he wished them luck.
Jared started the outboard motor and got them moving. Of course, they'd have to turn off the engine when they got close to the house and paddle the rest of the way, but at least this initial boost of speed would save them some time. Perhaps very valuable time.
Without the sunlight, the water was eerily dark; she couldn't see even an inch below the surface. And the night closed in around them. She hoped that Esterman hadn't put guards on the shoreline. Or worse, on the water itself. The only things she and Jared had going for them were the element of surprise and their determination.
"Let's name the baby," she whispered when he turned off the engine. Rachel knew that sounded absurd at a time like this, but it suddenly seemed important. "He's a week old and he doesn't even have a name."
"We used to have that list, remember? I seem to recall that Michael was your favorite."
"Yes." She took one of the oars in the boat, and they started to row toward the shore. "But let's pick something different. Something we decide right here, right now. It'll be more meaningful that way."
He shrugged. "All right. How about we name him after your father, Benjamin? Or would that cause too many bad memories for you?"
She gave it some thought. "No bad memories, but I'd like your name in there, too. How about Benjamin Jared? And we can call him—"
"Ben," they finished together.
Rachel managed a smile. "Maybe that's a good sign that we agree on the name?"
"Damn straight."
But if Jared indeed felt that way, the feelings didn't make it to his voice. Rachel heard the concern. The doubt. And even the fear. They mirrored what was going on inside her.
They quietly got off the boat and pulled it onto the shore, hiding it in a thick clump of shrubs. Jared paused a moment and looked around them.
"There doesn't seem to be any perimeter security," he mumbled.
At least, none that created an audible alarm. In fact, the place was quiet. The only sound was that of the surf and the cry of an occasional seagull.
Rachel followed him across the sandy beach to the back of the house. Jared had been right—it wasn't well lit. Just some spotlights on the patio. No guards in sight, either. That didn't put her at ease. In fact, it did just the opposite. Maybe Esterman had used Agnes McCullough, and this house, as a trap. But Rachel prayed she was wrong.
Keeping close to the wall, they walked slowly around the house. Jared tested the first window they came to. It was locked, and they moved on. He repeated that process three more times before he finally stopped and took out the tiny tool kit from his jacket.
Rachel stood on her tiptoes and peered inside. It was a dining room. Dark. Shadowy. And not a soul around. It also appeared to have easy access to a hallway. Beyond that, she could see the stairs.
"Keep a close watch on the yard while I'm doing this," Jared whispered.
Rachel turned so that she'd have a better view of the massive yard. The scarcity of lighting made it more secure for them, but it didn't help her with her surveillance. The grounds were littered with trees, shrubs and outbuildings. Any one of them could provide a hiding place for Esterman's hired guns or for some well-placed cameras that could be monitoring their every move.
Jared used a tiny glass-cutter to take out a fist-size section of the window, and then he reached in and disarmed the security wires. It likely wouldn't disarm the other windows, but it'd at least give them access to this one.
Taking out his weapon, he held it by his side so she wouldn't easily see it and panic. Rachel appreciated that, but he couldn't do that for long. If they encountered a guard, Jared would almost certainly have to use his gun. She prayed that she could deal with that when the time came.
He climbed in first and had a look around before he helped her through. Unlike the night air, the air in the house was cool, a trio of fans whirling overhead. The place smelled of furniture polish and disinfectant.
Jared went to the doorway. Paused. Looked around. And then motioned for Rachel to follow him. He turned off the light as they made their way down the hall to the set of stairs.
Then Rachel heard the footsteps.
Jared didn't waste any time. He jerked open the door to the storage area beneath the stairs and pulled her inside. It was dark and musky, an indication that it didn't get much use. The last thing they needed was for one of Esterman's people to find them before they even had a chance to search for the baby.
Someone opened a door. Not the one to the closet, thank God. Rachel heard the click of a knob in the hallway. Next to her, she felt Jared's arm flex. Nothing more than the readjustment of a few muscles, but he was obviously preparing himself for a fight.
Rachel's bod
y made its own preparations. Her heart pounded. Her breath became rapid. She refused to let the fear paralyze her, but it definitely had her by the throat. Instead, she tried to channel her energy to her fists in case it turned physical. All that Shaolin training might come in handy, after all.
"I don't see the suitcase," someone called out. A man.
But she didn't recognize the voice. It definitely wasn't Brewer or Meredith.
"Don't worry about it right now. We can look for it later." A woman that time.
Rachel had no doubt that it was Agnes McCullough.
There was a sudden shuffle on the stairs overhead. Followed by more footsteps down the hall. Nothing frantic. Just two people going about some routine business. The footsteps trailed off to silence.
The seconds crawled by.
Jared eased open the door. Paused for a moment. Listened. Apparently satisfied, he motioned for her to follow him. They made it halfway up the steps before she heard the sound. It was soft. So soft. And yet Rachel knew exactly what it was.
A baby crying.
Her breath stalled in her throat, and she froze. Jared didn't, thank God. He seized her arm and got them moving. They made it to the landing.
Another sound.
Faint but definitely a cry.
Even over the pounding of her own heartbeat, Rachel managed to follow Jared and that sound to a room at the end of the long hall.
The door was open several inches. Like a beacon, pale yellow light seeped out and bled onto the carpet. Jared flattened his back against the wall and inched toward the light.
When they were closer, he braced his right wrist and held the gun in front of him in case he had to fire. Crouching low, he pivoted so he could peek around the doorjamb. Rachel had a look, as well.
No one was there.
Cautiously, they went inside. Jared eased the door shut behind them and locked it. Immediately, he began to search the closet and beneath the bed to make sure they were alone. Rachel didn't help him. She spotted the white wicker bassinet in the corner and raced toward it.
She saw the movement of the blanket. Tiny squirms and kicks against the pale blue fabric. And then she saw his face. He was sucking on his fist and apparently not very happy that it wasn't a bottle.
"Jared," she somehow managed to whisper. "He's here. He's really here."
Too many emotions went through her to try to sort them all out. Besides, it didn't matter. The weight of the world just seemed to melt away.
With her hands trembling and her heart in her throat, Rachel carefully lifted him up, and for the first time held her son in her arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Okay.
Jared took several deep breaths and he watched the miracle unfold in front of him. He'd had a lot of expectations about this moment, but not once had he prepared himself for his mouth going dry and his stomach landing on the floor.
The transformation in Rachel was equally startling. The smile. The look in her eyes. The light in her face. The way she brushed her mouth over the tiny forehead. The simple gesture must have been comforting, because their son stopped crying immediately.
Their son.
This child was their son.
Unsure of what he should do, Jared reached out and gently ran his fingers over the thin mat of brown hair. There was an instant connection. Unconditional love so strong that it nearly brought him to his knees, and it was all aimed at that little bundle who was suddenly studying them with inquisitive gray-blue eyes.
"Welcome to the world, Ben," Rachel whispered. "We're your parents, and we're very happy to meet you."
It was a moment too precious to cut short, and yet Jared had to push what he was feeling aside and get them the heck out of there.
"Let's go," he insisted.
Rachel seemed to be in a daze, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and urged her toward the door. The baby whimpered, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. Before Jared could worry if the noise would alert Agnes, Rachel put the tip of her thumb into their son's mouth. It soothed him instantly.
"Good idea," he told her. Thank God for maternal instincts. So far, his paternal impulses were only focused on one area: escape.
They made it all the way to the stairs before Jared heard something he definitely didn't want to hear. Footsteps and voices. Since they already sounded too close for comfort, he pulled Rachel and the baby into the nearest room and locked the door. The lock wasn't much, but if necessary it might buy them a couple of extra seconds.
Unfortunately, those extra seconds could soon become necessary.
When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that it was some kind of large storage room, stuffed with old furniture and such. He hid Rachel and the baby behind a stack of boxes, reholstered his gun and went to the window to disarm the security wires.
"Hell," he mumbled, looking out.
There was only a thin lip of roof and then a twenty-foot plunge to the ground below. If that was their only escape route, they were in trouble.
Trouble came a lot sooner than he'd anticipated.
"He's gone!" someone yelled. A woman. Agnes, probably. It hadn't taken her long enough to figure out that the baby was missing.
They didn't have much time now. She'd no doubt alert the guards and God knows who else.
There was sudden movement in the hallway. Footsteps. Harried whispers. Then nothing. Jared continued to work on the window, which was no easy feat. Unlike the one in the dining room, this one had double sensor points on each side, which he had to work his way through.
Several seconds passed, before someone touched the doorknob. Just a touch. Followed by another frantic female whisper. Jared heard the baby fret. A sound so quiet that no one would have heard it unless they were listening closely.
Which someone apparently was.
The knob twisted. A fraction. Then, another. The lock held under the gentle pressure, but it wouldn't hold long.
He managed to cut the last wire of the security system and throw open the window. Not wasting any time, he drew his gun and motioned for Rachel to hurry toward him. She did.
But it was too late.
The door suddenly flew open, bits of wood pelting them. Rachel automatically sheltered the baby by turning her back toward the debris. Jared ignored the splinter that slashed across his cheek and tried to shove Rachel behind him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a man called out. Jared saw him out of the corner of his eye. It was Sergeant Colby Meredith. Agnes was right by his side, and she was armed, as well.
"Drop your gun, Dillard," Meredith ordered. "And put your hands in the air so I can see them."
Rachel gasped and buried her face against the baby's blanket, terrified at the sight of the guns aimed at her. Jared could feel her tremble. He hoped she could stave off a panic attack until they were out of there. Now, the real question was—how were they going to get out of there?
"Take deep breaths," Jared whispered to her. "And focus. I really need you to focus."
Staring at Meredith, Jared quickly ran through his options. Rachel might have a chance if he could somehow push her out onto the roof while he fired at Meredith. But it was a huge risk—she could easily fall. Neither she nor the baby would survive something like that.
"Drop the gun," Meredith repeated, and he aimed his weapon. Not at Jared. Not even at Rachel. But at the ultimate bargaining tool—the baby.
Jared tossed down his gun immediately. "Play along," he whispered to Rachel. "We'll get out of this. I promise."
This was a plan B kind of moment. Evade and escape. He would have to wait until he was close enough to Meredith and Agnes, and then he'd try to overpower them.
All without getting Rachel or the baby hurt.
Of course, he had to make sure that Meredith didn't kill him first. His fellow officer was probably more than willing to pull the trigger and permanently take Jared out of this equation.
Without taking his attention from them, Mered
ith reached behind himself and turned on the lights. "Agnes, go put on some tea or something."
That simple order was all it took—the woman quickly scampered out of the room.
However, Meredith obviously wasn't done. He looked at Jared and then Rachel. "Come on. Let's all go back downstairs and have a little talk."
A man in charge. Or maybe that was just what Meredith wanted them to think. Either way, Jared had to wonder if he was finally looking at Esterman's accomplice.
Rachel spoke up. "It's me you want. Let Jared take the baby and leave. You can take me back to San Antonio, and I'll make sure my testimony exonerates your boss."
Jared tried to push her behind him, but she wouldn't let him. She thrust the child into his arms, lifted her hands in the air and started to walk toward Meredith. He also noticed that she closed her eyes. It was probably the only way she could approach the man while he was armed.
The baby whimpered and squirmed against his chest. Jared didn't let it distract him. "Rachel, I don't want you to do this."
Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced at him over her shoulder. And what Jared saw in the depths of those eyes wasn't exactly a look of surrender.
Hell! She was going after Meredith herself.
"Rachel!" he tried again. Jared stooped to lay the baby on the floor. He couldn't let Rachel take on Meredith. It would be suicide.
"You should hold your son a little longer," he heard someone say. "It might be the last time you have a chance to do that."
Jared's gaze flew to the door. It was Donald Livingston. Smiling.
And armed.
He wasn't alone. There were two other guards with him. Since the infrared had indicated only three adults in the building, these were probably hired guns that had been guarding the bridge. However, it didn't matter where they came from. There were too many of them to fight head-on.
The warden shouldered Meredith aside and strolled into the room. Meredith didn't protest. Sentry-like, he took his position near the door, no doubt to await further orders. Livingston wouldn't have to kill anyone, not when he had Meredith around to do the job.
"Rachel, come and get the baby," Jared insisted.
Confiscated Conception Page 14