by Adrianne Lee
It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings. The Buffalo Falls Police Station. The woman she’d been chasing looked about the age of Deedra’s mother. She was round and soft and obviously terrified. She cowered near Heck Long, hugging the little girl to her chest.
Deedra reached outstretched hands toward the toddler. “That woman has my child, Heck. My Callie.”
“She’s loco,” the woman said. “Plumb nuts. This is my granddaughter.”
“Ms. Shanahan.” Heck stepped between the women. “You got it wrong. This here is Luanne Pine’s mama. And the little girl is Luanne’s daughter, Jess.”
Only then did the weeping child lift its head from the woman’s shoulder and turn tear-damp eyes at Deedra. Brown eyes.
It was not Callie.
Deedra’s knees gave out.
Before she hit the floor she felt Beau’s strong hands catch her, heard his voice call her name. But all she could think was that once again she’d let him down. Once again she’d lost Callie.
Chapter Ten
“Where were you, Beau?” Deedra murmured against his chest. “Where were you?”
Beau held her trembling body as tightly as he could without hurting her. She clung to him, pressing her face to his chest as if she wanted to disappear into him. What the hell had happened? Over the top of her head, he glanced from Heck Long to the chubby woman with the child, silently gesturing for one or both to start explaining.
When neither accommodated, he barked, “What happened? Why is Deedra covered in—” he sniffed “—baby powder?”
“I don’t know.” Heck shrugged. “She came runnin’ in here after Luanne’s mama, claimin’ Jess was your Callie.”
Beau blanched, his gaze swinging to the little girl. Except for the shoulder-length wavy black hair, she didn’t look anything like Callie. His chest tightened, and he drew a difficult breath. Like Callie would look now, that is, at two years old. Besides, this child was more like three. God, what had set Dee off? He stroked her back. “I’m sorry, Mrs., er…”
He realized he didn’t know Luanne’s mother’s name.
The woman supplied it. “Lowry. Ivy Lowry.”
Luanne had a perfect oval face, but her mother’s had lost all definition to fat and was mottled and red, a testament to the claim that she’d been running. Ivy had gray-streaked, coffee-brown hair in a short, mannish cut. Her aqua eyes peered at Beau over half glasses embedded with multicolored rhinestones, one of which was missing on the left side.
He said again, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lowry.”
“She scared us half to death, Sheriff.” Ivy shook a finger at Deedra. “Chased us all the way from Dupont’s Department Store.”
“We lost our little girl six months ago. Callie had hair a lot like Jess’s.” Beau hugged Deedra reassuringly. “My wife is having a hard time—”
“Ah, poor thing. Well, no wonder she acted plumb loco.” Ivy’s eyes softened, and pity etched lines into her fleshy face. “Lord knows what I’d do if someone took one of my girls from me. Make ’em sorrier than they’d ever been, for sure. Yeah, I might go off my rocker, too.”
“I’m not off my rocker,” Deedra said, lifting her head from Beau’s shoulder. She glanced around at Mrs. Lowry. “No trace of her was ever found—which is probably why I’m having trouble accepting that she’s…gone.”
“It don’t do no good to dwell on stuff like that, Ms. Shanahan,” Heck offered. “You gotta cut yerself a break.”
“Yeah. Let’s just forget the whole thing, okay, hon?” Mrs. Lowry sounded as if she’d never forget it. As if she couldn’t wait to tell everyone she knew about her first meeting with the sheriff’s wife.
“Thank you, Mrs. Lowry. Your discretion would mean a lot to me.” Beau pinned her with his toughest gaze, hoping she’d take the hint and keep her mouth shut. For his sake, for the sake of this office and for Luanne’s sake. He was, after all, Luanne’s boss, and he wouldn’t appreciate his employee and her family making fun of his wife behind his back.
“Oh, my lord, my packages!” Ivy Lowry clapped her hand on her cheek. “I dropped ’em right out there on the street.”
With that, she gathered up Jess and fled.
Deedra stepped back from Beau. Her complexion rivaled the shade of the powder in her hair and on her clothes. “Beau, I—”
“Come into my office.” She was still trembling. But given the distress and terror she’d been through the last few days, it wasn’t that strange that she’d be in shock. He nodded to his deputy. “Heck, bring us some of that mud you call coffee.”
He guided Deedra into his office and shut the door, then closed the blinds, giving them complete privacy. Other than a few pink phone messages, there was no work on his desk. He hitched his hip on its edge. Deedra dropped into a chair facing him and buried her head in her hands. She wasn’t weeping—though God knows she had reason. She seemed more ashamed, somehow worried that he’d be upset with her. “Dee, what happened?”
She lifted her head. “You heard that…Mrs. Lowry. I thought her granddaughter was…Callie.”
“But why? What made you think Callie is alive?”
“You mean…what threw me ‘off my rocker’?”
He stroked her cheek, wanting to pull her closer and ease the pain from her dove-gray eyes. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“You’d be the only one.” She blew out a breath but remained tense.
“Sweetheart, I just want to know what happened after I left you at the doctor’s?”
“Nothing happened. Nothing concrete, anyway. It was a series of things, I guess. My doctor’s visit, an encounter with a pregnant teenager and an adopting couple—all started me thinking about babies, which of course led to thoughts of Callie, and next thing I knew I was in the infant department of Dupont’s smelling the baby powder, remembering… And then, a swatch of green on a sale rack caught my eye.”
She lifted her gaze, pleading for his understanding. “It was the dress Callie was wearing—”
“Callie’s dress?” Shock scraped Beau’s nerves. “Her actual dress?”
“No…no…just one like it.”
His heart kicked, a painful, unpleasant bump that seemed to shove something solid into his throat. “Oh, God, oh, babe…”
She shuddered and hugged herself, swallowing so hard he thought she’d choke. He caught her by both hands, and she gripped back until her knuckles were white.
Unshed tears shone in her eyes. “I felt as if I stood half on and half off the edge of a bottomless pit, felt my body pitching over that rim, and I couldn’t pull back. Couldn’t stop the forward momentum. The little girl’s laugh did that. Snapped me back to reality. It sounded like Callie’s laugh, and when I turned and saw that raven hair…well, you know the rest.”
“Ah, Dee, I’m sorry.” He gently brushed her hair, sending white dust into the air. “How did you get the baby powder all over you?”
She told him about not realizing she still held the talcum can when she’d started for the little girl, about slamming into the shelf and spilling everything, including herself and the powder. “God, Beau. The whole town is going to be talking about how I flipped out in Dupont’s. Uncle Sean will be mortified. Hell, I’m mortified.”
She looked so contrite, so dismayed, he caught her face in both hands, forced her gaze to his and said with conviction, “Sean and the town will get over it.”
The deputy knocked on the door, then opened it and came in with two cups of steaming coffee. He set them on Beau’s desk. “Sheriff, Dr. Warren is on line one. I told her you were busy, but she insists it’s important.”
“Dr. Warren?” Deedra flinched.
Beau stiffened. “Tell the doctor that I’ll call her back when I’m free.”
Heck nodded and left.
“I suppose she’s heard already.” Deedra groaned. “And wants to recommend you have me committed before I hurt myself or someone else.”
“Forget Dr. Warren. I think we’re on the sa
me page about your former shrink.” Beau poured brandy into each of their mugs. He handed her one. “Here, this will make you feel better.”
He drank from his own cup. “Now, what did Dr. Haynes say about your surgery?”
She sipped at the steamy brew, then peered at him over the rim of the mug. “Scheduled for six weeks from now. That gives me time to save up my own blood.”
He scowled, thinking about the blood that had been switched in that hospital in Washington State.
As though she’d read his mind, she added, “Dr. Haynes knows, and he’s guaranteed me he’ll find some way to keep my blood under lock and key, even if he has to store it in his own home.”
Beau wasn’t convinced that would keep the sniper from trying to sabotage it. They had to find out who she was. And fast. He finished his coffee, shoved his phone messages unread into his top drawer and struggled up, relying heavily on his cane. Damned physical therapist. His leg hadn’t bothered him this morning, but after their impromptu session today, it hurt like hell. He needed to get off his feet, and Deedra looked as done in as he felt. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Deedra stood, and he took her arm. The outer office was empty again.
“Why didn’t you come and pick me up?” Deedra asked. “Where were you, Beau? Did it have something to do with the page you got at Dr. Haynes?”
“No. That was from Nora Lee. She wanted me to know the forensics team had finished up, and we could have our bedroom and bathroom back.”
“Then what delayed you?”
“My physical therapist called. He had a cancellation, so I took it. Unfortunately, it lasted longer than I’d counted on, and by the time I called Dr. Haynes you’d already gone.”
They had just reached Beau’s car when a woman called his name. “Sheriff Shanahan?”
Dr. Elle Warren bore down on them, her compact body oozing energy and strength like a finely tuned machine. As usual she wore a suit with a leotard and tennis shoes looking gym-ready should anyone suggest working out. “Sheriff, I really need to speak to you.” She eyed Deedra critically. “Alone.”
Bristling, Beau led Deedra to the passenger side of the car. She settled on the seat and he gently closed the door. Only then, did he address the shrink. “Didn’t my deputy inform you that I’d call you back?”
“Yes, but considering the…delicacy of this matter, I decided we should discuss it in person.” Her long, sandy hair was swept off her forehead and secured at the nape, as controlled as the woman herself. Always in charge, always in command. “Could we please go into your office?”
As though he would follow her, Dr. Warren took a step toward the precinct.
Beau addressed the psychologist’s back. “I’m busy right now.”
Dr. Warren glanced around, seeming surprised. Not used to having her requests ignored, he imagined. She touched a small hand to her hair. “I only need a few minutes.”
“Right now I don’t have them to spare.” He opened his car door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Tomorrow.” He drove off, leaving the shrink on the street, hands on hips, chest heaving, face twisted and red. But Deedra was smiling.
DEEDRA KEPT SMILING, all the way home, all the way up to their bedroom. Thanks to Beau. He’d done what she’d prayed for before she’d run away. He’d actually been there for her at her worst moment, supported her through her most difficult hour. For the first time since this ordeal had started, she felt they were a team.
“Thank you.”
He shook his head and blinked down at her. “For what?”
“For riding to my rescue today.”
“Yeah, I’m a regular white knight.”
“You were, Beau. To me.” She reached up, stroked his face, wound her fingers into his hair and then pulled him to her. She raised on tiptoe to meet his kiss, their lips coming together in hunger, hard and demanding. Electrical zings jolted through her, kicking her heartbeat into overdrive and shooting fireworks through her veins.
He seemed to feel it, too. The cane dropped near their feet, and he rocked back against the door, dragging her to him, his arms circling her like bands of unbreakable silk. Deedra’s body felt boneless. His tongue parted her lips, and the moment she tasted him, she knew she could never get enough of Beau.
Beau pulled back, breathless, his gaze glazed with want. “I won’t hurt you. Last night I didn’t think about your condition…but I’ve been worried about it all day. Did…did our lovemaking cause you any…harm? What did the doctor say?”
She couldn’t catch her breath. “You sure know how to kill a moment.”
“Deedra?” His husky whisper vibrated along her nerve endings as his exploring hands rolled the length of her back, settling on her bottom, pulling her near enough that she had no doubt he was still up for the activity he had put on hold. “What did the doctor say?”
“He said we could…if we go easy. As long as I don’t start to bleed.” She feared the clinical intrusion would dampen the mood, but he grinned lustily and grabbed her lips with his, delving into her mouth. Then he kissed her face, her neck, her forehead as if he couldn’t get enough of her…until her body seemed to be burning from the inside out.
Her internal thermometer spiked, spreading a candied ache through her. A roaring need. They began undressing each other, all the while sharing kisses, touches, caresses, the wildfire roaring higher, the need coiling tighter.
And then they were naked, skin to skin, as giddy as children in a candy store, gazes locked on all the goodies, not sure which delight to sample first. This one, then this, then this. Each one more delicious than the last. And she was melting again, against his tongue, against his fingertips, against his glances. Without knowing how, she felt the bed beneath her. Beau knelt above her, between her legs, the pièce de résistance, the most coveted goody in the store, the sweetest treat of all.
He entered her with a thrust so gentle, if not for the sheer size of him and her body’s immediate and shattering response, she might have thought she’d imagined their joining. Radiant currents zipped through her, thrilled her, and she urged him deeper and deeper. He accommodated, shoved all the way in, then stilled, savoring the moment, driving her mad with the urgency for what he withheld, frantic for that which he would not give.
“Beau, please. Please,” she begged, gyrating her hips against his. He groaned, and she sighed in satisfaction.
“Deedra…?” His emerald eyes were jade with ardor, his voice ragged, “Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes.” She sighed. “Very sure.”
“Hallelujah!” He moved then, his thrusts still schooled, but every lift and dip heightened the exquisite friction, winding the coil inside her tighter and tighter until the spring snapped loose in a wild backlash that soared through her, carrying her as high and as far as the universe allowed.
Beau cried her name and clung to her, and Deedra closed her eyes, feeling a new contentment. They’d survived the storm. This time. They could go on to fight another day. To face the next bluster bearing down on them. But for now it was enough to just lie here in his embrace, snug in the afterglow.
She came back to herself sometime later with no idea how late it was or how long they’d slept. But it was still light outside and Beau was still asleep.
She went into the bathroom to shower. The air smelled of lemon-scented cleanser, and she silently thanked Pilar for being fastidious and cleaning up after the forensics unit and Nora Lee. Stretching, she realized she felt good. Almost her old self. Trouble was, she decided, studying her reflection, she didn’t look like herself. She couldn’t do anything about the weight loss at the moment, but there was something she could make right.
She dug into her travel bag and withdrew a box of hair dye. Within the hour she had her own russet hair back, and the color changed the woman in the glass in every way for the better. Her gray eyes had depth and definition again, her complexion its normal peachy hue. She grinned. “Welcome back, Deed
ra.”
“I’ll second that,” Beau said, eyeing her with lusty approval. “You look good enough to haul back to bed, lady.”
He kissed her neck, and a sweet heat began claiming her.
It was cut off by a loud banging on their bedroom door.
“Are you two coming down for supper or not?” Sean barked.
Beau and Deedra exchanged a knowing glance. Her breath shuddered out; her nerves burned beneath her skin. She said, “He’s heard about the incident at Dupont’s.”
“Probably.” Beau nodded. “Give us half an hour, okay, Sean?”
“I’ve already given you an hour.” Sean tempered his voice, but not his annoyance. “And I’m gettin’ damned hungry.”
“Make it ten minutes then.”
“But no more.”
“So much for my plans, babe,” Beau said, kissing her again.
While he showered, she dressed, then took special care with her makeup, needing to look strong, unshaken.
Needing a shield against Sean’s anger.
What she’d done today likely only accounted for part of his ire. She didn’t like that she was coming between Beau and his uncle. After Beau’s parents died, Sean and Beau had become more than uncle and nephew. More like father and son. Or older and younger brothers—considering that the gap in their ages wasn’t all that great.
Sean had adored Callie. Had never gotten over her loss. Deedra knew he was terrified she would somehow cost him Beau, and he was reacting with the only weapon left in his arsenal. His temper.
A leaden band circled her chest, squeezing her heart in a vise-grip of sorrow. Sean didn’t hate her; he distrusted her. From their first meeting he’d recognized in her the fatal flaw that Beau had never seen: she couldn’t trust love enough to give her whole heart to anyone. Even with Callie, she’d held back. Just in case her daughter would find her lacking. Would leave her. Or be taken from her.
And hadn’t that been exactly what happened? It was that emotional distancing that lay at the root of her guilt about the accident. About her baby’s disappearance.