by Cassie Miles
Rachel did as she was told. The huge kitchen, painted a sunny yellow, had professional quality appliances and gleaming marble countertops. In no way did it resemble the antique parlor.
“The gun isn’t necessary,” Rachel said.
“I’ll make that decision, missy. My daughter got herself tangled up with some bad folks. I’m not taking any chances.”
“I’m a midwife,” Rachel said. “I helped Penny deliver her baby.”
Pearl’s big brown eyes softened. “Goldie.”
“She’s right here.” Rachel unzipped her parka and took it off to reveal the sling holding the infant. “And she’s hungry.”
“My granddaughter.” Pearl’s gun hand faltered. “But where’s… Oh, no. Penny’s dead, isn’t she?”
“I’m sorry,” Cole said.
He stepped forward, smoothly took the gun from Pearl and helped her into a chair at the kitchen table where she sat, stiff as a rail. Her unseeing eyes stared at the empty space opposite her.
“I knew this day would come.” Pearl’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Penny was always wild. Careless. I encouraged her to be a free spirit and to express herself, but she should have had more controls, more rules.”
“I’ll get you a glass of water,” Cole said.
“Make it orange juice.”
“Orange juice it is.”
“With a shot of vodka. The booze is in the cabinet over the sink.”
While he went to do Pearl’s bidding, Rachel lifted Goldie out of the sling and set her down on the counter-top to take off the purple snowsuit. The baby waved her arms, kicked and cooed. She was full of life, deserving of a chance at happiness.
Rachel hoped Pearl would be able to care for her granddaughter. “Penny said you were house-sitting. Where do you live?”
“I have a studio in Denver.”
“You’re an artist?”
“I do some painting. And I design jewelry. For a while, I had a shop in Grand Lake. When Penny was in her teens, I moved up here. I wanted to get her away from bad influences in the city.” She paused. “That didn’t work too well.”
“I only knew Penny for a short time,” Rachel said. “No matter how many unfortunate decisions she might have made in her life, she did the right things during her pregnancy. She wanted to give birth without drugs, wanted the best for her baby.”
“I had natural childbirth, too. I was only eighteen.” A thin smile played on Pearl’s full lips. “I wasn’t ready to settle down, drifted from place to place, fell into and out of love. But I always did right by my daughter. She was more precious to me than breath. That’s not to say we didn’t fight. The last time I saw her, I was so angry.”
“Did you know what she was doing?”
“I knew it wasn’t good. The fellow with her was a thug. I believe his name was Frank. He’s not the father, is he?”
“No,” Rachel said quickly.
“Thank God.” Pearl slowly shook her head. “I went looking for my daughter. Found her at a casino in Black Hawk. She stood there in the middle of all those slot machines with her belly bulging. I wanted to take her home with me, but she refused. I had hoped that when she was a mother, she’d understand.”
“I believe she did. When she saw Goldie for the first time, she glowed from inside. It was as though she’d swallowed a candle.”
Cole placed the vodka and orange juice on the table. “Penny couldn’t stop smiling. She was beautiful.”
Pearl lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. Thus far, she had avoided looking at her grandchild. Glass in hand, she stood and snapped at Cole. “Come with me into the other room. I want to know what happened to Penny. Tell me everything.”
They left the kitchen, but Cole returned almost immediately with the backpack. “You need to get Goldie changed and fed. I don’t think we can leave her here.”
“Penny wanted her mother to take the baby.”
“I’m not sure Pearl can handle an infant.”
An aura of sorrow veiled his features, and she knew that he was feeling guilt for Penny’s death. Rachel understood. Logically, he’d know that her murder wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t pulled the trigger. He hadn’t put Penny in danger. But he’d take responsibility the same way she’d blamed herself when she lost a patient.
He stood and straightened. When he walked back to the parlor, he looked stoic as though preparing to face a firing squad. His conversation with Pearl was going to be difficult, but it had to be done.
She looked down at Goldie and smoothed the fringe of downy brown hair that framed her round face. “What are we going to do with you?”
The baby gurgled in response. Her shining eyes fixed on the light from the window above the yellow café curtains.
Dragging this darling infant all over the frozen countryside simply wasn’t an option. They’d been lucky so far; Goldie had stayed safe and warm, snuggled against her chest. But so many things could have gone wrong. If Penny’s mother couldn’t take the baby, they’d have to risk going to the police and handing Goldie to them.
As Rachel went through the procedures of preparing formula, she tried to imagine what would happen if they turned themselves in. Cole was in far more danger than she was. As soon as her identity was verified, she ought to be all right. After all, she had an alibi for the time when the gang was on the run. She’d been delivering a baby. Jim Loughlin’s baby.
She caught her breath. Oh, God, why hadn’t she thought of this before? Big Jim Loughlin was a deputy. She could call on him to help her.
The yellow phone hanging on the wall by the kitchen cabinets beckoned to her. Though she didn’t know the Loughlins’ phone number off the top of her head, information would have it. But if she used this phone, it would pinpoint her location. Other people could track them down to this house.
Deputy Loughlin was the answer to all their problems. She couldn’t wait to tell Cole.
When he returned to the kitchen with Pearl, Rachel was glad to see that the vodka and orange juice had barely been touched. The older woman came directly to her. “I’m ready to meet Goldie.”
Rachel placed the baby in her grandmother’s arms. The bonding was instantaneous. The pained tension on Pearl’s face transformed into adoring tenderness, and she exhaled in a sweet, soft hum.
Rachel exhaled a sigh of relief. Goldie was going to be just fine with her grandma.
Chapter Eleven
While Pearl settled down on the parlor sofa to feed Goldie her bottle, Rachel took Cole into the kitchen. She kept her voice low, not wanting to disturb the moment of bonding between grandma and baby. But she felt like singing. Their problems were all but over.
She beamed at Cole. In his black turtleneck and still-damp jeans, he looked big, rough and intimidating, until he smiled back and she saw the warmth in his eyes. He came closer. With his thumb, he tilted her chin up, and she thought he was going to kiss her again.
His voice was a whisper. “What’s going on? You look like you just found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”
“Jim Loughlin,” she said. “Deputy Jim Loughlin. He’ll help us.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Don’t you see?” Excitement bubbled through her. “This is the perfect solution.”
He rested his palm on her forehead. “That’s funny. You don’t feel feverish.”
“I’m not delusional.” She took a step back. “Once I contact Jim, we’ll be in the clear. In fact, the police will probably thank us.”
“Before you schedule our ticker tape parade, take a breath. Sit down.”
“Why are you being so negative?”
“Start at the beginning. Who’s Loughlin?”
She plunked into a chair at the kitchen table. “The house I was at before you kidnapped me belongs to Jim and Sarah Loughlin. Jim happens to be a deputy sheriff. If I call him, he can arrange for us to turn ourselves in.”
“You believe that you trust him.”
“One hundred and
ten percent,” she said confidently. “Jim would do anything for me. I just went through the labor-and-birthing process with him and his wife. They think I’m pretty terrific.”
“Which you are.”
“Thank you.”
He wasn’t responding with the enthusiasm she’d expected. As he took a seat beside her, his forehead furrowed. His cognac-brown irises turned a deeper, darker shade. “Let’s think about it before you call him.”
“What’s to think about? We turn ourselves in, and he calls off the manhunt.”
“After which,” Cole said, “your friend will be ordered to turn us over to Wayne Prescott and the FBI.”
“Not necessarily.”
“It’s his job. Even if Loughlin thinks you walk on water, he can’t go against orders. Prescott is calling the shots.”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “But the Loughlins know I’m innocent. They’re my alibi. I was with them when you were on the run. They know I’m not a criminal.”
“Neither am I.” Gently, he took her hand. “But Prescott has somehow managed to turn my FBI handler against me.”
“I still want to call Jim,” she said. “Your cell phone doesn’t have GPS tracking, right?”
He took it out of his pocket and placed the phone on the table. “Give it a shot. Put the call on speaker so I can hear.”
She’d already used Pearl’s phone to call information and get the home number for the Loughlins. She punched it into Cole’s cell. This plan will work. It has to work.
As soon as Jim answered, she said, “This is Rachel. How’s the baby doing? Do you have a name yet?”
“Caitlyn,” he said. “She’s beautiful.”
“And Sarah?”
“I didn’t think it was possible to love my wife more than the day we were married, but I’m in awe of this woman—the mother of my child.”
He was the kind of guy who renewed her faith in the goodness of humanity. She felt guilty about intruding on his happiness with her problems. “What have you heard about the casino robbers?”
“There’s a big-deal manhunt. Everybody on duty is looking for the three that got away. They’ve got roadblocks set up. They were trying to monitor the on-the-road cameras, but a lot of them got messed up by the snow. Why do you ask?”
“The woman fugitive,” she said. “The supposed woman fugitive is me.”
There was a silence. He cleared his throat and his deep voice dropped all the way into the cellar. “What are you talking about?”
“After I left your house, I was kidnapped by the robbers to help a woman in the gang deliver her baby. You must have suspected something. My van was at the house where the three people were killed.”
“I haven’t heard anything about your van. As far as I know the three victims were found by the FBI in a clearing right before the blizzard hit.”
“Not in a house?”
“No.”
A cover-up. She should have expected as much. Penny had told her that the house belonged to Baron; he wouldn’t want to be associated with them.
Quietly, Cole said, “Tell him you have an address.”
She spoke up, “I can give you the location of—”
“Is somebody with you?” Jim asked.
“Yes.” She wouldn’t lie. “I’m with a man who was part of the gang, but he’s really an undercover FBI agent. A good guy. He saved my life. And the baby’s.”
“You have the baby with you,” Jim said.
“If we’d left her behind, they would have killed her. You have to believe me.”
“Where are you, Rachel?”
She looked at Cole, who shook his head. Sadly, she agreed with him. If she told Jim where she was, the police would be at the door, and they’d be handed over to the people who wanted them dead.
“I can’t tell you. There’s a conspiracy going on that’s too complicated to explain. If I’m taken into FBI custody, I’ll be arrested or made to disappear. Or killed.”
“Is that what this undercover fed told you? Rachel, you have to get away from him. He’s no good.”
“Deputy Loughlin,” Cole said with calm authority, “you know Rachel isn’t a criminal. She’s a healer. To protect her, it’s imperative that you tell no one about this phone call.”
“Don’t tell me about protecting Rachel.” Jim’s voice rumbled. “I’d do anything for her.”
“I’m counting on your silence,” Cole said. “I’m going to give you an address. It’s the house where the murders took place. Even if the blood has been cleaned up, there will be evidence of a shoot-out. Check the property records and find the name of the owner. Tell no one what you’re doing.”
“I won’t help you. That’s aiding and abetting.”
“Please,” Rachel said. “I need your help, Jim.”
Cole gave him the address. “We’ll call you back.”
As he disconnected the call and slipped the phone into his pocket, Rachel felt her high hopes come crashing to the ground. She couldn’t trust anyone. Not even Jim.
COLE PULLED OPEN the heavy velvet drapes in the front parlor and looked outside. Above the snow-laden rooftops, he saw the clouds breaking up and the sky turning blue. Sunlight glistened on mounds of snow piled beside the sidewalks. Kids in parkas and snow hats were having a snowball fight. People waved to each other. A four-wheel-drive vehicle bounced along the plowed street in front of the house.
His undercover work generally led him into rat-infested back alleys and strip joints. Not here. Not to small town America, where you couldn’t see the criminals until they held a knife to your throat.
He turned away from the window.
The scene inside the house was equally charming. Rachel and Pearl sat beside each other on the fancy Victorian sofa. Their heads bent down; the curly blond bangs on Pearl’s forehead almost touched Rachel’s sleek dark hair as they fussed over the baby.
There wasn’t time for cooing infants and cozy musing after the storm. He and Rachel had managed to find Penny’s mother without too much difficulty. Sooner or later, Baron’s men would do the same. They could be surrounding the place at this very moment.
“Ladies,” he snapped.
Pearl looked up at him. Though her lips smiled, her expression was flat. Something inside her had died. When he’d talked to her earlier, she had demanded the truth about her daughter’s death. He’d tried to be gentle, but as he spoke, he’d seen the cold embrace of despair and sorrow squeeze the light from her eyes.
Beside her, Rachel had slipped into an attitude of outward calm that masked her internal tension. She’d looked the same way when she directed Penny through the last stage of labor.
These two women weren’t kidding themselves. No matter how unflustered they looked, both were aware of the tragedy and the danger. They needed him to point the way.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “First we get Pearl and Goldie to safety.”
“Agreed,” Pearl said. “I can’t stay here. Too many people in town know that I’m house-sitting.”
“Deputy Loughlin said there were roadblocks and surveillance cams, but they won’t be looking for you. Take Goldie and get onto the highway as soon as possible.”
“You need a car seat,” Rachel said.
“Not a problem. The woman who owns this house has a couple of car seats in the closet of the guest bedroom for when her grandchildren come to visit in the summer.” She looked down at the sleeping baby on her lap. “Don’t worry, little one. Grammy Pearl is going to take good care of you.”
“You shouldn’t return to your home in Denver,” he said. “Not until we know it’s safe.”
When she nodded, her curly blond ponytail bounced. “Maybe I can stay with a friend in Granby. She was Penny’s favorite teacher in high school. Taught economics and history.”
“Does she still teach there?” Rachel asked. “I might know her. I do health programs at the high school.”
“Jenna Cambridge.”
�
��A teacher?” Rachel lifted an eyebrow. “Penny talked about Jenna as though she was more of a friend.”
“That boundary might have gotten a bit fuzzy. Jenna was new in town and lonely. Plain as dishwater. She liked to go out with Penny.” Her lip trembled. “My daughter attracted attention wherever she went.”
Though Cole had known Penny for less than a month, he had to agree. Even nine months pregnant, Penny was a firecracker. “Did Jenna know Penny’s boyfriends?”
“More than I did.” Pearl swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Penny didn’t tell me much about the guys she dated.”
Gently, Rachel said, “One of them might be Goldie’s father. Penny said they started dating when she was in high school. He was an older man.”
“How much older?”
“He took her to a classy places, bought her expensive gifts.” Rachel circled her wrist with her fingers. “A diamond tennis bracelet.”
“Those were real?”
“According to Penny.”
“How could I miss that? I’m a jewelry designer.” Pearl’s features hardened. Anger was beginning to replace her sadness. “Not that I work with precious gems. Amethyst is about as fancy as I get. And pearls, of course.”
He noticed that she was wearing silver teardrop earrings and a ring with three black pearls. Her only bit of artistic flamboyance was her colorful patchwork jacket. He liked her flair and her earthy sensibility.
Rachel cleared her throat. “Does the name Wayne Prescott mean anything to you?”
She frowned as she considered. Her hand absently patted Goldie’s backside. “I don’t know him. Is he the father?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me more about this older man.”
“Penny didn’t actually say how they met, but I got the idea that he was somehow connected to her school. Not a teacher, though. Maybe the father of another student. She said that Jenna told her he was Penny’s Mister Big—the man she’d spend the rest of her life with.”
“Jenna knew? All of a sudden, I don’t want to see her or talk to her. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“Penny probably asked her not to.”