Saving His Son

by Rita Herron

  Suddenly she fought off the covers, a tortured moan escaping her as she bolted up and sprang off the bed. He jackknifed to a sitting position, his pulse racing as she staggered into the bathroom. He ran after her, his stomach clenching as he heard her heaving violently. He hurriedly wet a washcloth and pressed it to her forehead but she slumped over the toilet, her head lolling sideways. Then her body went limp and she lost consciousness.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lindsey flailed sideways but Gavin grabbed her before she could collapse on the cold, hard tile. He quickly called an ambulance, then held her, rocking her ly while he waited. At least she was breathing but her pulse was weak, her pupils dilated, and her skin felt cold and clammy.

  Was she simply dehydrated? Going into shock?

  His own heart pounded, aching and tight. He stroked her hair, whispering soothing words, praying she’d be all right. Sirens sounded in the distance, pummeling closer, beating through his tightly reined control. He wrapped a blanket around her, scooped her into his arms and carried her to the den, pacing in front of the window, finally breathing again himself when he saw the blinding lights. The ambulance zoomed down the drive and screeched to a stop, siren wailing. He flung open the door.

  “Hurry, she’s unconscious!”

  As soon as he lay her on the gurney, the paramedics went to work. One EMT took her vitals while another started an IV. The middle-age stocky one glanced at him. “Are you her husband?”

  “No, a friend.”

  “What happened?”

  “She’s been under a lot of stress, hasn’t been eating much. Right before she went to bed, she said she hadn’t been feeling well all day. Complained of nausea.” He lay a hand over her damp forehead, willing her to open her eyes. “She slept for a short while, then woke up violently ill. I found her in the bathroom, sick, then she passed out.”

  “Sounds like food poisoning—”

  “She hasn’t eaten enough to get food poisoning.”

  “Is she taking any medication? Drinking alcohol?”

  “No, no alcohol. And no medication that I’m aware of, except…except she’s been taking vitamins the doctor ordered.” And they’d been prescribed by Cross. His heart thundered in his chest. What if the vitamins were tainted? He suddenly felt ill himself. He’d actually encouraged her to take them earlier.

  “Get the bottle,” the EMT ordered.

  Gavin leapt from the ambulance and raced inside. By the time he returned, they had her settled in the back of the ambulance, and were ready to roll.

  “The clinic—”

  “No, take her to the county hospital.”

  The younger paramedic frowned. “Sir, the clinic’s closer and the staff is competent.”

  Hell, someone on the staff might have tried to kill her. “No, I’m a detective. I want her at the county hospital.”

  “Is there a relative we can call?”

  “No, no relative.”

  The EMT nodded at his demand and set the ambulance into motion. Gavin climbed in beside Lindsey, took her hand in his, planted a tender kiss on her palm, then bowed his head as the vehicle spun down the drive. He didn’t care what the paramedic thought. He’d act irrational too if he thought the woman he loved was going to die. And that he’d handed her the pill that might possibly end her life.

  WO HOURS LATER, Gavin paced the waiting room, sipping muddy cold coffee from a foam cup, cursing the circumstances and his own stupidity. Lindsey had to make it. He needed her, his son needed her.

  Why hadn’t he figured out where his son was? What could he be missing in the investigation?

  His boots squeaked as he made the rounds of the small, pale green room. An elderly couple sat huddled together, comforting one another and holding hands, obviously pulling together in some medical crisis of their own. The way he and Lindsey had pulled together in this crisis. Would they be together in old age to comfort one another like this couple?

  For the first time in his life, he wanted that…that bond with a woman, a permanent connection to last through time. Maybe Cory would be that bond. No, his love would be. All his former reservations beat a sickening rhythm in his head. If Lindsey could forgive him. If he could forget he’d put them in danger…

  A doctor approached, and he paused and tossed his nearly full cup in the trash.

  “Is there someone here from the Mendelson family?”

  The white-haired couple stood, clutching one another, their bony frames bracing for whatever news the doctor had to relay. Whispered heads bent, listened, nodded. Seconds later, the couple released a joyous exultation and began to hug one another. He hoped his story had a happy ending like theirs.

  Shadows fell across the room and he turned to see his buddy Simon approaching. “I came as soon as I heard.”

  Gavin clapped him on the arm. “Thanks, man. I still don’t know anything.”

  Simon thrust a fresh cup of coffee in his hand, gesturing at the Dunkin’ Donuts logo. “I figured the hospital sludge was almost as bad as the precinct’s.”

  Gavin chuckled and accepted the cup, keeping one eye on the door. “I hope you found something.”

  Simon twisted the corner of his mustache with his fingers, a gesture Gavin recognized as nerves. “First off, I’ll have that search warrant for Cross’s office soon. And I talked to the warden at the state pen. Said Faulkner hasn’t had any visitors recently. Not even his folks.”

  Gavin gritted his teeth. He’d wanted to find something to link Faulkner. If he wanted revenge, Faulkner had found the perfect way to hurt Lindsey. But then why try to kill her? A man like Faulkner would glean more satisfaction by tormenting her.

  “Any news on Johnson or Swain?”

  Simon rubbed his hands together. “Johnson took his wife up to the mountains. Seems they have a cabin up there. So far no sign of a baby with them though, although some kids’ furniture was spotted through the window. We’re still tailing them.”

  “How about Swain?”

  “One of our men saw him in Raleigh the same day you and Lindsey did the TV interview.”

  Gavin exhaled shakily. “I thought I saw him outside the station.”

  “I’ve got an APB out on him. We’ll pick him up for questioning w

  Geez, if Swain had his son…

  “There’s more,” Simon added in a grave voice.

  Gavin prepared himself for the worst.

  “Turns out Swain had a sister named Wanda. She lived in Maple Hollow, worked as a fill-in nurse at that clinic where Lindsey delivered. We’re looking for her now.”

  Too much of a coincidence. Maybe the sister had his son.

  A gray-haired doctor appeared in the doorway, adjusted his bifocals, his long face drawn and serious. “Mr. McCord?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Dr. Albright, the attending physician for Lindsey Payne.”

  He squeezed his coffee cup so hard hot coffee sloshed over on his hands but he ignored the burning sensation. “How is she?”

  “We’ve stabilized her. Are you family?”

  She was the closest thing to family he’d had in a long time. He shook his head. “Her mother is in a nursing home. I can contact her—”

  “No, that’s not necessary. I wouldn’t want to upset her.” He gestured toward the row of maroon vinyl seats. Gavin followed him while Simon indicated he’d phone Barnes and see if any more phone calls had come through. Gavin sat down and braced his arms on his legs watching as Dr. Albright referred to his clipboard.

  “We ran a series of tests and discovered Miss Payne has a thyroid imbalance. She’s actually hypothyroid, a condition almost the opposite of hyperthyroid. The paramedics claimed you weren’t aware she was taking any medications, but we found traces of a drug called methmizole in her system.”

  “As far as I know she hasn’t taken anything but those vitamins. I want them analyzed.”

  “They’ve been sent to the lab already.”

  “So what did this drug do? There wasn’t any perman
ent damage, was there?”

  “I don’t believe so.” The doctor studied him over his glasses. “It’s true Miss Payne recently lost a baby?”

  Gavin explained the situation and the stress Lindsey had been under.

  “Hmm. Many women suffer naturally from post-partum depression, which in turn can affect their thyroid, creating a hypothyroid condition.”

  “And?”

  “Under the circumstances, I can imagine Miss Payne might have suffered from some depression.” His gray eyebrows knitted into a frown. “All the more reason her doctor wouldn’t prescribe a drug which would worsen the condition. The side affects of methmizole alone are troublesome and can include heart problems, confusion, depression, loss of appetite.”

  “She hasn’t been eating or sleeping. I just assumed her loss of appetite was due to stress.”

  “Probably was partially. Exactly the reason a competent doctor wouldn’tprescribed methmizole for her. It can increase depression, and it certainly doesn’t help the patient cope.”

  Gavin’s hands tightened once more around the foam cup, nearly squashing it in his hands. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the doctor had prescribed the pills hoping they would confuse Lindsey so no one would believe her story. “Lindsey is a strong woman, Doctor, but she’s been through a lot lately. You can treat her, can’t you?”

  The doctor tapped his pencil on the clipboard. “Yes. We’ve already started her on thyroid replacement therapy. She should feel better soon and be able to leave the hospital in a couple of days.”

  Relief filled Gavin. “Thanks. You’ll let me know as soon as you get the test results on those pills?”

  “Certainly.” The doctor made another notation on the chart, then excused himself.

  William Cross was going to be in a lot of trouble when the results came through, Gavin thought. And he would make sure the man paid for every lie he’d told. And for almost killing Lindsey.

  LINDSEY TRIED to move but her limbs felt languid and heavy, and her head swam with a dull throb. She fought the pain and forced herself to open her eyes. Bright light assaulted her. Strange odors filled her nostrils. Some kind of cleaning supply. No, the smells weren’t cleaning supplies. They were hospital smells—ammonia and alcohol.

  Tubes traced a path from her arm to an IV and a soft bleeping sound punctuated the silence around her. An oxygen machine, no, some kind of heart monitor. What was wrong with her? Had she been involved in an accident?

  The memory of the incident in her bathroom slowly drifted into focus, Gavin beside her, mopping her face, lifting her, carrying her…where? An ambulance. The sounds had bombarded her subconscious but she hadn’t had the energy to respond. Where was Gavin now?

  “I’m here, Linds.”

  The sound of his voice, rough with worry, soothed her frazzled nerves. She turned her head to face him, a weak smile spreading on her mouth when she saw his handsome face, those wide-set dark eyes probing through her, full of concern. His mouth was pressed in a taut line. She wanted to reach up and trace his lips until he smiled. Only she didn’t have the energy to lift her hand.

  “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.”

  It was the first time he’d called her the endearment and she struggled not to let the tears that sprang to her eyes overflow. He must have seen them anyway.

  “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

  She licked her dry lips. “No, I just feel weak.”

  He brought a cup of water to her lips and bent the straw so she could drink. Lindsey greedily inhaled the water, wondering if she’d ever quench her thirst. But he pulled the cup away after several sips. “That’s probably enough to start off with. You’ve been pretty ill. You don’t want to overdo it.”

  “What happened? I remember getting sick but was

  “Not the flu or food poisoning,” he said sharply. “Apparently you have a thyroid imbalance.”

  She frowned. “But I’ve never had one before.”

  “Dr. Albright, the doctor treating you, said post-partum depression can sometimes trigger it.” He hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. They were in this together, though, and she’d come to him. He owed her honesty. “He thinks you were given some kind of medicine that suppressed the function of your thyroid. You haven’t been taking anything I’m not aware of, have you?”

  She frowned, puzzled. “No, just those vitamins.”

  He nodded and reached for her hand, threading her limp fingers with his. “They’re being analyzed right now.”

  He saw the moment the implication set in. “But Dr. Cross gave me those right after Cory was born.”

  He couldn’t keep the fury from his voice. “I know.” Gently he lifted a loose tendril of hair from her forehead and brushed it back, savoring the sight of her beautiful heart-shaped face. Those exquisite brown eyes, that porcelain face so full of kindness and love. Their gazes locked, the current of awareness skittering between them, silently binding them.

  Emotions battled within him. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her. He wanted to hold her forever, wrap his arms around her and make her his woman until eternity, stand before a judge and have her take his name, put his baby in her arms and another one in her belly.

  But he didn’t deserve her, not after the horrible way he’d deserted her. Not after all he’d put her through these last few months. So he settled for simply staring at her, reminding himself she was alive, smiling and offering him hope when he’d thought a few hours earlier that life might not go on.

  The doctor knocked once, then bounded in, interrupting the moment. “Hi there, how’s my patient feeling?”

  “Better,” Lindsey said in a low voice. “I’m just really weak.”

  Dr. Albright smiled. “It’ll take a few days to regain your strength. Be patient, dear, you were pretty sick.”

  Gavin immediately understood Lindsey’s look of impatience—she didn’t have time to be sick. Time kept ticking away, every second without their son a precious moment lost.

  Finally he folded his stocky arms, his face grim. “I don’t know if Mr. McCord filled you in on my diagnosis?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded curtly, shooting Gavin a questioning look.

  “Go ahead, we both want the truth,” Gavin said.

  “The tests results showed the vitamins you were taking were not actually vitamins. They were laced with a drug called methmizole.” He explained the effects, basically reiterating the conversation he’d shared with Gavin.

  “I’m not sure if the pharmacist made some kind of mistake or the doctor misdiagnosed your case when he prescribed this drug, but I’m obliged to report the incident,” Dr. Albright said.

  Gavin explained his background, the circumstances of Lindsey’s situation. “I’m calling my partner right now. I want them to question Cross immediately.”

  And this time they wouldn’t release Cross until they had the truth.

  AS SOON AS Lindsey fell asleep, Gavin kissed her goodbye, then left a guard at her door, and headed toward Maple Hollow Clinic. He wanted to see Cross in handcuffs. And he wanted a chance to sneak into the man’s files before he could cover anything up or delete them.

  If Cross hadn’t already done so.

  Exhaustion clawed at him but he ignored his aching muscles and drove like a crazy man, taking a detour through a mountain road he’d discovered while investigating another case. Mountain cabins sprang up, interspersed between the rolling hills and farmland. Could Johnson’s cabin be close by?

  A place to hide an infant?

  Once the idea took root, he couldn’t release it. He phoned Simon to pinpoint a location. After he examined Cross’s files, he’d personally check out Johnson.

  When Gavin finally reached the clinic, his anger had magnified to a full-fledged fury. He stormed into the clinic, for the second time that week clearing halls with his intimidating presence.

  “Dr. Cross isn’t here,” Brenda Leigh said in a nervous whis
per.

  “Has he been here at all today?”

  The redheaded receptionist shook her head, dropping papers in her haste to answer him. “No.”

  “It’s his day off,” Brenda Leigh explained. “Sometimes he likes to go fishing up in the mountains.”

  Gavin stifled a curse, praying the ex-FBI agents would locate him. He tried to convince Brenda Leigh to let him into the doctor’s office but she firmly refused.

  Gavin left, then slipped around to the side entrance and searched for Andy, the mentally impaired orderly he and Lindsey had talked with the first day he’d arrived. He didn’t have time to wait for the search warrant. He needed to get into the doctor’s files right away. Finally he spotted him, restocking the juice cart in the kitchen.

  The man seemed spooked for a moment, but Gavin quickly calmed him by reminding him he was a friend of Lindsey’s.

  “I need your help, Andy,” he said. “Miss Lindsey’s in the hospital.”

  His right eye twitched. “Is…is she all right?”

  “She will be, but I need to examine some of Dr. Cross’s files. We’re still looking for her baby.”

  “H-her baby? I thought sh-she lost it.”

  Gavin lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s what they told her, Andy. But you were right. Dr. Cross was lying. We found the other young woman who delivered the same day as Lindseyis eyes widened like saucers. “She had Miss Lindsey’s son?”

  “No, she didn’t. But she confirmed that Dr. Cross is lying. If I could look into his files for a minute, I might find something to help Ms. Lindsey.”

  “B-but I’m not s-sposed to let people in.”

  Gavin patted his arm. “I know, but Dr. Cross wasn’t supposed to lie. This is important, Andy. You may be able to help Miss Lindsey find her son.”

  Finally the mentally impaired man agreed. He craned his neck into the hall, motioning when the area was clear, then showed Gavin into the office and locked the door behind them. Gavin immediately rushed to the computer and began trying to hack through the system.