Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  How in the world did a baby wind up on his front porch?

  * * *

  What the hell?

  Ridge stared down at the infant, now safely inside and sleeping peacefully. The little one had stirred at the sound of Penny’s barking, but had drifted off again when Ridge had picked up the carrier and moved it into the cabin. He didn’t know much about infants, but it seemed odd that this one was so quiet. Weren’t babies supposed to cry a lot?

  He glanced down at Penny, but she offered him no guidance. She looked from him to the baby and back again expectantly, and he realized he’d forgotten to reward her for her find. A spike of guilt pierced through his shock, and he moved quickly to dig her favorite toy out of his bag. “Good girl,” he crooned as he presented it, giving her some extra ear scratches. Search and rescue dogs were motivated by positive reinforcement, and he’d never before forgotten to treat her right away after she’d done her job.

  Of course, he’d never encountered a baby on his front porch, either.

  “Where did you come from?” he murmured.

  There had been no signs of anyone around his cabin, so he had no way of knowing how long the baby had been out there. His stomach twisted at the thought of the helpless infant left to the mercy of the elements, and a flash of anger warmed his chest. Who in their right mind left a baby on a stranger’s porch? What kind of parent did that to a child? He glanced outside, noting the rotten-egg-green color of the sky. Bad weather was coming. A thunderstorm for sure, maybe even hail and a tornado. If he hadn’t made it home when he did...

  He shuddered, refusing to consider the alternative. Fortunately, he had come home. And even better, Penny had been there. Ridge didn’t make it a habit to check his front porch, so there was no guarantee he would have found the child if not for his partner.

  “Seems like your guardian angel is working overtime,” he said, shaking his head at all the things that could have gone wrong tonight.

  Ridge reached out and peeled down the light green fleece blanket to reveal an impossibly small body strapped into the car seat. The baby sported a pink long-sleeved, footed outfit, complete with small mittens. “I guess this means you’re a girl,” he said softly.

  It took him a second to figure out how to extract her from the harness, but after a few fumbling attempts he was able to gently lift her from the carrier. Her head lolled back at the movement and she emitted a small squeak of distress, which sent his heart racing. Had he hurt her? What if she was already injured—was he making things worse? Sweat broke out on his palms, and he feared she would slip right out of his hands and onto the floor.

  “Don’t drop the baby,” he told himself, tightening his grip on the little torso. He could feel her heartbeat under his fingers, fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Was that normal? Maybe she was stressed or sick.

  He brought her to his chest and held her against his heart, his large hand spanning her entire back and extending to her head. She squirmed a little against him, and he was gratified to feel the warmth of her body through his shirt. Not too cold then. That was something, at least.

  Now that he’d taken her out of the carrier, he noticed a folded piece of paper that had been left behind. It was slightly wrinkled and a little damp from its stay under the baby, but the message was still legible. Please take care of her until I can come back.—F

  Okay, then. It wasn’t much to go on, but at least it was something.

  If the note was to be believed, the baby’s mother intended to come back for the child. So what kind of circumstances forced a woman to stash her baby on a stranger’s front porch? Why not take the little one to the police station, or the hospital? After all, there was no guarantee the baby would be found, so the mother had to be truly desperate to resort to such an action.

  Based on the signature, if an initial could even count as a signature, the mother’s name started with the letter F. Was this woman worried she was the next target of the Alphabet Killer? Did she think she was in mortal danger, and had left the baby in a last-ditch attempt to save her?

  It was possible, he mused. So far, the killer had targeted women in alphabetical order of their names. The latest victim’s name had started with E, which meant an F name was next on the list. Maybe this mother knew the killer and had good reason to suspect she was the next target.

  The baby wriggled against him, and he brought his other hand up to secure his hold on her. He lifted her off his chest and was rewarded with the sight of two dark eyes squinting up at him. Her movements had knocked her cap askew, so he tugged it off her head to reveal a light dusting of dark brown hair.

  Just like the Alphabet Killer’s previous victims.

  A tingle raced from his fingertips to his chest. Was he holding a clue to the identity of the killer? If they could identify this baby and somehow find her mother, would that lead them to the Alphabet Killer? Maybe this was the break they’d all been waiting for.

  “But why are you here?” he asked the baby. She smacked her lips together as if she was trying to respond, but otherwise gave no indication she’d heard him. Was her mother somehow connected to the mysterious armed subject he’d been hunting all day? Perhaps the Alphabet Killer had been playing hide-and-seek with the unknown F, and the mother had taken the first opportunity she’d found to get the baby to some kind of safety. That still didn’t explain why Archie Johansen had heard someone on his porch, but it would account for why the baby had been left on his property.

  The little girl was now emitting an increasingly loud series of grunts and squeaks, and Ridge felt his heart begin to pound as he realized he had no idea what was wrong with the baby or what to do about it. Apparently dissatisfied with his response, or lack thereof, the baby opened her mouth to emit a piercing wail. Penny dropped her favorite toy and stared up at Ridge, her expression saying more than words ever could. Are you going to deal with this?

  “Ah, it’s okay,” he said, awkwardly patting the baby’s little back in what he hoped was a comforting cadence. “Don’t cry. You’re fine.”

  This did not have the desired effect. The baby settled into a rhythmic cry that made it clear she had needs and he was failing to meet them. She’s probably hungry, he realized belatedly. Who knows how long it’s been since her last meal?

  But what did you feed a baby? There was definitely nothing in his pantry suitable for an infant. And he couldn’t very well run down to the grocery store for formula—he had no idea what kind to get, nor did he have any bottles. He was hopelessly out of his depth here. Time to bring in a professional.

  He tucked her back into the car seat and carried her out to the truck, dodging the big fat raindrops beginning to fall from the sky. Not about to be left behind, Penny followed him and hopped onto the floorboard of the passenger seat, keeping a watchful eye on the now red-faced and squalling baby.

  “So much for my quiet night,” he muttered to himself as he threw the truck into gear. “Hang in there, little one,” he said, a bit louder. “We’re going to get you checked out, and I’m pretty sure they have baby food at the hospital.” And maybe, just maybe, he’d get lucky and there would be a record of her birth there, too.

  Stranger things had happened.

  CHAPTER 2

  Doctor Darcy Marrow leaned forward and tied off the last stitch, then offered her patient a smile.

  “You did a great job,” she assured the little boy.

  He stared up at her, his blue eyes wide with amazement. “I didn’t feel a thing!” he exclaimed.

  “That’s good,” she told him, pushing back from the bed and setting her tools on the nearby metal tray. “That means the medicine worked.”

  “Am I going to have a scar?” He sounded hopeful about the possibility, which triggered a sigh from his mother.

  Darcy hid a smile as she started gathering up empty wrappers and used instrume
nts. “Maybe,” she said. “It’s important you keep the stitches clean and dry for now. And I can promise you, once the medicine starts to wear off, your arm is going to ache.”

  “That’s so cool!”

  She met his mother’s gaze and shrugged slightly. “You’ll want to take him to his pediatrician in a week, and they can remove the stitches. In the meantime, if he starts to run a fever or the wound looks infected, bring him back in.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said. She was clearly exhausted, and no wonder. She’d come home from work and had started to cook dinner, only to be interrupted by the crash of the glass coffee table breaking into a million pieces. Apparently little Johnny had decided to practice his karate moves while waiting, a decision that was all the more mysterious seeing as how the boy hadn’t taken a single karate lesson in his life.

  “No more kung fu movies for you,” his mother said as the pair shuffled out of the exam bay.

  “But, Mom,” the boy protested, their voices growing softer as they walked away.

  Darcy shook her head and silently wished them well. The injury itself hadn’t been too bad, but given the boy’s enthusiasm and appetite for adventure, it probably wouldn’t be his last scrape.

  She pulled the curtain back and stepped out into the main bay of the emergency room. The facility was shaped like a giant U, with the exam rooms set up on the periphery to orbit a large central workstation where the nurses and doctors could order tests, access lab results or maybe even drink a cup of coffee when things were slow.

  Like now.

  One of the nurses gave her a friendly smile when she sat down. “I take it Johnny is all fixed up?”

  Darcy nodded. “He’ll be back in action in no time, which I’m sure will drive his mother nuts.”

  The woman laughed. “He is a handful.”

  “Is it just the two of them?” She didn’t remember seeing a father’s name listed on the chart, but then again, she hadn’t really been focused on it.

  “Yeah. Her husband took a job out in Odessa when the oil boom got started a couple of years ago. Called her up a few months later and said he wasn’t coming back. As far as I know, she hasn’t seen or heard from him since.”

  “That’s terrible,” Darcy replied, feeling even more sorry for the beleaguered woman. No wonder she’d looked so tired! “Is there anything we can do to help her? Maybe some kind of babysitting program, or something like that?”

  The nurse eyed her curiously. “She’s on a wait list for an after-school care center. But I have no idea how long it’ll take before Johnny’s name comes up.”

  “Maybe I can call them and get it bumped up a little,” Darcy mused.

  “Maybe you could,” the nurse agreed. “But I didn’t think you were sticking around long enough for things like that.”

  Darcy felt her face heat at the observation. It was true, she was only filling in at the Granite Gulch Regional Medical Center for a few weeks as a favor to her father. He was the chief of staff at the hospital, and when he’d found out her position in New York didn’t start until May, he’d suggested she moonlight in Granite Gulch for the time being.

  “To keep your skills sharp,” he’d said, his tone suggesting she was in real danger of forgetting everything she’d ever learned if she took a few weeks of vacation.

  His implied criticism of her skills had stung, but she’d shrugged off his remarks. It wasn’t as if she had a warm, loving relationship with her parents. Growing up, her doctor father had been absent more often than not, and her socialite mother was always more interested in playing the part of the wealthy doctor’s wife, fluttering from one charity obligation to another with little regard to her daughter at home. As a consequence, family conversations were always rather formal, stilted affairs.

  Especially after Darcy had started dating Ridge Colton. They’d met in high school, and she’d been immediately drawn to his quiet intensity. He projected a calm confidence that said he didn’t care what other people thought of him, and coming from a family obsessed with appearances, that attitude both intrigued and attracted her in equal parts. She’d known about his family’s past—everyone did—but his connection to the notorious Matthew Colton hadn’t bothered her. Ridge had a gentleness about him, and as she’d talked to him and gotten to know him, she realized the quiet air everyone mistook for an aloof arrogance was actually a defense against the pain of gossip and rejection. Ridge was so used to people judging him by his father’s deeds that he had stopped trying to reach out and connect with others. Once he’d decided to open up and trust Darcy, he’d let down those walls and his true, amazing personality had shone through.

  Around her, at least.

  Her parents had hit the roof when they’d found out about the relationship. It was the one time in her life Darcy could remember them taking an actual interest in her activities and friends. They had insisted she break up with Ridge right away, but Darcy had refused. Her obstinacy had led to a further cooling of their relationship, and even though she’d eventually walked away from Ridge, she and her parents had never really warmed to each other. It was part of why she’d chosen to take the temporary job in Granite Gulch. While she knew her parents would never really understand her choices, she didn’t want to start her life in New York without at least attempting to mend some fences here.

  Shaking off those thoughts, Darcy returned her focus to the nurse. “I know I won’t be here for very long, but I do want to try to help while I can.”

  The woman nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as if Darcy had just confirmed one of her suspicions. “Give me just a minute—I’ll look up that number for you.”

  “Thanks.” Darcy turned to the computer, pulling up the list of patients still waiting to be seen. They’d been triaged according to illness or severity of injury when they’d walked in the door, and since no one was in immediate danger of dying, she’d see them in the order in which they’d arrived.

  She’d just pulled up the file on her next patient—a young woman with flu-like symptoms—when she heard the faint wail of a baby’s cry. “Someone’s not happy,” she murmured, pausing to listen. It was a regular, rhythmic cry of a hungry baby, not the piercing wail of pain or the heartbreakingly weak cry of illness, so she turned her attention back to the computer screen.

  The sound of urgent voices drifted back from the waiting room, along with snippets of the conversation.

  “Sir, you can’t—” said Carol, the receptionist, her distress plain.

  “Not leaving her—” This was a low rumble of a voice, most likely the baby’s father. Who was he refusing to leave behind?

  “Simply not allowed—” Carol was getting frustrated now, her tone becoming challenging. Darcy could picture the woman leaning forward, her glasses sliding down her nose as she glared up at the man who dared to defy her. Carol wasn’t much to look at physically, but she ran the front desk of the ER with a drill sergeant’s precision and she didn’t take crap from anyone. Whoever was out there was going to have to bend to Carol’s will, and the sooner he did it, the better.

  “Service animal—” The words were clipped and formal, effectively ending the conversation.

  Well, that was interesting. By law, they couldn’t refuse entry to a service animal—something Carol would already know. However, most service animals wore a distinctive harness or other clearly identifying gear that marked them as such. The fact that Carol had tried to jettison this one meant that the creature in question was likely out of uniform, so to speak. So was it a true service animal, or was the owner just trying to pass it off as such because they didn’t want to leave their pet in the car?

  Her curiosity piqued, Darcy stood and started walking toward the triage room. It sounded as if Carol might need some backup, and she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Furthermore, the baby’s cries had taken on an increa
singly desperate tone, and she knew from experience that pediatric cases could escalate quickly.

  The nurse shot her an inquisitive glance as she stepped into the triage exam room. Darcy offered a smile. “Just thought I’d come see what all the fuss is about...” The words died in her throat as she got her first look at her patient—or rather, her patient’s parent.

  Ridge Colton.

  The sight of him knocked the breath right out of her lungs, leaving her standing there gaping at him like some kind of slack-jawed yokel. On some level, she’d known it was only a matter of time before she would run into him. Granite Gulch was a growing town, but it still had a very local feel to it and everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business. Still, she had hoped their inevitable meeting would occur at a time and place of her choosing, not when she was eight hours deep into a twelve-hour shift and looking less than fresh.

  “Ridge.” His name was barely more than a whisper, but it may as well have been a shout. He glanced over at her and recognition flared in his dark brown eyes, along with another flash of emotion she couldn’t decipher. Surprise? Anger? Disappointment? No matter. It was gone in the next heartbeat, and he’d already turned back to the baby, dismissing her.

  The nurse continued her preliminary exam of the infant, rattling off information as she went. Darcy listened with half an ear and forced herself to look away from Ridge and focus on the baby in front of her. There would be time to stare at Ridge later, to look for signs of the boy she’d known in the man’s body now before her.

  A quick physical exam revealed nothing unusual, nothing to suggest the need for a visit to the emergency room. She shot a questioning glance at Ridge. “What’s the problem here?”

  Ridge met her eyes, then looked away again. “I’m not sure. I was worried about exposure.”

  “Exposure?” Darcy frowned at him, certain she had misheard. “How long has she been outside?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”