The Baby Invasion (Destiny Bay-Baby Dreams)

by Conrad, Helen

  And maybe, from what he could see, pregnant.

  “Funny you should notice,” he told her as he pointed to a nice slice of cherry pie and held his cup out for coffee. “Most people don’t catch the resemblance. I come from a sort of black sheep wing of the family. We seem to have a different look.”

  She shrugged as she served him. “I’ve made a special study of Carrington male faces,” she told him, looking wise. “I saw it right away.”

  He stared at her, not sure what in the world she meant by that, but she was walking away before he could think how to frame a question to her.

  “Strange girl,” he muttered to himself.

  But the cherry pie looked great and he actually got to enjoy three bites before Mickey, the red-headed owner of the café, recently married to a Carrington herself, noticed him and called out a greeting.

  After that, he was swamped. The place was full of his cousins, and since he didn’t come in more than once a year, just about every one of them had to stop by for a comment. That made him wonder why he didn’t join in more often. It felt good to be welcomed so warmly.

  Family. Why was it he always shied away? Maybe he should reconsider.

  But probably not. He’d spent the last fifteen years of his life on his own. Reconnecting too closely to family meant basking in affection, but it also meant plunging into all their problems, and that he could do without.

  Mickey teased him about the way he acted the part of a stranger, and when he shot back with the fact that he hardly recognized half his relatives anyway, she began to keep him updated as one cousin after another came over to chat or to give him a pat on the back or a friendly hug.

  “Your cousin Reid, but I guess you know that,” she said as she stopped by to whisper in his ear after a particularly handsome and distinguished looking Carrington stopped by on his way out. “He’s married to Jennifer Thornton now. She has the shop next door. The Magnificent Munch.”

  “Mmmhmm.” He nodded.

  “And I guess you remember Darren,” she said as another couple left after a warm greeting. “The pretty girl with him is Kendall McCormick. I hear they’re thinking wedding bells.”

  “I know Darren,” he said with a smile. “He and I are old pals.”

  That much was true. But Darren had been something of a loose canon in those days. He only hoped he’d grown up a bit in the years since.

  “In fact,” he went on, “one summer in our college days, he and Tanner and I all got exiled to work at a hotel in Canada as punishment for something we’d done, I can’t remember exactly what.”

  “Wild and crazy youth.”

  “Something like that.” He smiled. “And Shelley was already working there,” he added, mentioning another Carrington cousin. “Only because she wanted to, not because her father made her, like the rest of us.”

  “A gathering of Carrington Cousins. How cute.”

  He laughed. “It was a sort of ‘Dirty Dancing’ experience, if you know what I mean. We all four got really close that year.”

  “Shelley comes in a lot.” Mickey made a sad face. “Darren’s big brother Rafe, not so much. I wish he would show himself around here. He’s almost as bad as you are.”

  “Didn’t I hear that the youngest one, Eddie, joined up? The Marines I heard.” He shook his head, remembering his own experiences. “Semper Fi,” he murmured, looking dreamy.

  “Yeah. He’s been in Afghanistan for about a year now. He ought to be coming home soon.” Mickey scanned the room. “Is there anyone you really don’t remember?”

  “Scott Carrington!”

  He turned to see Shelley herself, tall and blond and beautiful, and looking as pregnant as could be, coming into the café.

  “Hey Shell,” he said, rising to give her a special hug as Mickey left to attend to a customer. “How’ve you been?”

  “Just great, Mister Never Shows up for Family Affairs.” She pretended to scowl. “You didn’t come to the wedding.”

  “I was flying out of New Delhi at the time. Sorry kid.” He hugged her again. “I heard it was beautiful and that you married a spook.”

  She shrugged. “Sort of. Michael does undercover work a bit.” She grinned. “And before I was tied down by this baby bump, I helped him.”

  “No kidding.” He laughed. He might have known Shelley would be bold enough to brave a job like that.

  “Listen,” she said, getting serious. “You remember our great uncle, Colonel John?”

  “Sure. A famous raconteur as I recall. A real star at family parties.”

  “That’s the one. He’s such a big old sweetheart. You know, when we were younger, he used to take Tanner and me under his wing at times. He took us both to Europe one year.” She smiled and shook her head. “I think he considers Tanner his heir, in a way. Since he doesn’t have kids of his own.”

  “As if Tanner needed a rich uncle in his life,” Scott scoffed, shaking his head. Life just wasn’t all that fair, was it?

  Shelley shrugged. “You know how it goes. The rich get richer.”

  They grinned at each other. Scott knew that Shelley came from good old Carrington money, so she was comfortable in her way, but Tanner, though he’d played hard, had also worked his tail off. He’d been a Silicon Valley entrepreneur who had made all the right moves and that world rewarded his sort of expertise.

  Scott himself came from the side of the family that never quite made themselves a fortune the way Carringtons were expected to do. His father had been something of a drifter before he’d taken over a mining operation in Reno, and even though he did okay there, he’d never been what you would call wealthy. And with all those kids to feed…

  “Well, I’ve just been getting texts from Tanner,” Shelley said, checking her phone as she thought of it. “It seems the colonel is down at Nueva Bahia and being scammed by a lady con artist.” She raised her eyebrows significantly.

  “Nueva Bahia?”

  “Have you been there? Fabulous place—sort of a little piece of Mexico hidden out on an island of the Santa Barbara coast. It’s like being in another country.”

  She closed her phone and shoved it into a pocket. “I know it well, because Michael’s aunt and uncle run a little restaurant there and we go down to help them from time to time.” She shook her hair back. “So I think I’ll go down and see if I can help Tanner out with the gold-digger lady who’s coming on to the Colonel.”

  Scott glanced at her rounded belly. “Isn’t it a bit late in the season for that?” he asked delicately. “You look pretty ripe to me.”

  She laughed. “It is pretty primitive there. No cell service. Not much internet. But it’s not far. I can handle it. And Michael will come with me, so I’ll be okay.” She gave him a provocative look. “Maybe you ought to come along. Remember the old days? You and me and Tanner? We got into some insane adventures, didn’t we?”

  They reminisced about old times and then Scott remembered what he’d come for and pulled her back as she prepared to leave.

  “Say listen, Shell. Do you know anything about a local woman named April Meadows? She’s tall, dark haired and just had triplets a few months ago. I’m trying to get some info on her.”

  Shelley was shaking her head. “You want me to ask around?” she asked him.

  “That would be great,” he said. He’d been bringing up the name to everyone he talked to, and so far no luck. But between Shelley and Mickey, that ought to about cover the waterfront. If anyone here knew anything, he should know it within the hour. He sat back and relaxed, feeling good. Family had its advantages, any way you sliced it.

  Cathy was coming back down the stairs when she heard the noise. For just a second she thought it was a mouse, or some insect trapped in the house and hurling itself against a window. Quickly she focused in on where the noise was coming from—the front door. Someone was turning a key in the lock.

  She froze, clutching the banister, breath held, eyes wide. Someone was trying to get in. She watched, horrified, as th
e knob jiggled. Her heart was pounding so loudly now that she couldn’t hear the key, couldn’t breathe.

  Her mind flipped about like a whirly-gig, trying to make sense of this. Call the police! They would never get here in time. Call Scott! But he’d gone into town, besides, she didn’t have his number, did she?

  And then, suddenly the jiggling stopped. He hadn’t been able to get in. She stared at the knob, strained to hear footsteps.

  She never for a moment considered that it might be Scott or April, or anyone else benign. She knew right away who it was—the man on the phone. He was trying to get in and if he couldn’t enter through the front door, where else would he try?

  The back door. Running as softly as she could on tiptoes, she threw herself at the back door, turning the lock and slipping the bolt in place. Was it her imagination, or was there something moving in the shadows beside the house, something traveling toward...

  The sliding glass door in the family room! Whirling, she raced across the house, flat-footed this time, not caring if she made any noise. All she wanted was to reach the sliding glass door before he did.

  She made it. The bar was in place. The lock tight. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, breathing hard. All the doors were locked. Her babies were safe. It was time to call the police.

  She turned toward the phone, but she never got there. Suddenly there was a very large man in the way.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  Sad Songs and Good Company

  A scream rose in her throat and stuck there. He had a knife—a very large, very shiny knife. It glistened, shining in her eyes, bright and threatening, taking away her power to act, to speak.

  She stared at it, transfixed, terrified. It took moments before she realized he wasn’t threatening her with it. Not directly. He was cleaning it, muttering all the while.

  “Damn near ruined the thing cutting that screen over the bathroom window. What’d she have to go and change the locks for anyway?”

  The scream was still lodged in her throat. She stood very still, her hands covering her mouth, as though to hold the scream back. The very large man turned and scowled at her.

  “You the one I’ve been getting on the phone all the time?” he demanded. “Where the hell is she, anyway? You can’t keep hiding her. I’m going to find her sooner or later.”

  He was tall and hefty, his shoulders wide and strong in a sinewy way. He wore tight jeans and a fringed leather jacket. He had a tan cowboy hat pulled down low, so she couldn’t see his hair, but his eyes were hazel and alert. His mouth was pulled tight in anger. And his hands kept playing with the long, sharp blade of the knife.

  “Could you...” Cathy’s throat was so dry, at first she couldn’t get the words out.

  “Could you please put away that knife?” she asked hoarsely.

  “What, this?”

  He held it up and looked from it to her.

  “This here’s my throwin’ knife. It goes where I go, lady.”

  He looked at her again, his scowl menacing. “Do you want to see me throw it? Listen. Look at this.”

  He pretended to aim at the far wall. “I’ve the eye of an eagle and the hand of a hawk. You just watch this.”

  Cathy gasped. He wasn’t pretending at all. The knife sailed through the air and landed with a crisp thunk in the center of a huge hibiscus on April’s wallpaper. The handle vibrated for a moment and then went still.

  Cathy took a shuddering breath, vibrating along with the knife, and had to put a hand out to the back of a chair to steady herself.

  The man started walking over to pull his knife out. Cathy couldn’t breathe properly but she felt she had to say something. “The wall...you’ll...you’ll ruin it.”

  He waved away her protest.

  “Oh hell, April doesn’t mind. I do this all the time.” He motioned with the knife as though ready to go on with more examples of his prowess.

  “No!” Cathy cried. “Please, please stop it. You’re making me very nervous.”

  He looked surprised, then disgruntled, but he put the knife away, shoving it into his belt.

  “Well,” he demanded, looking about the room, “enough chit chat. Where is she?”

  “I told you. I don’t know.”

  The man stepped closer, threatening once again, his eyes blazing against his dark tan.

  “I said, where is she?” he growled. “And this time I want an answer.”

  Cathy swallowed and tried to smile, though even her lips were trembling now.

  “I...I think we’d better have a talk,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice how shaky her voice was. “Sit down, why don’t you?”

  She gestured toward the two chairs arranged companionably with a lamp table in between them. She glanced at where the knife rested conspicuously at his hip and drew in her breath again.

  “Please?” she managed to say.

  His heavy face darkened, but after a slight hesitation, he did as she’d suggested, sinking into the cushions with a grunt, keeping his gaze locked on her the entire time.

  She sat across from him.

  “Well?” he said impatiently. “Tell me. Where is she?”

  He was just a man, she was telling herself wildly. Just a man. Even if he did throw knives and talk as if he might eat nails for breakfast. He was just a man, and a man could be talked into gentleness—sometimes.

  “My name is Cathy Feenstra,” she tried as gingerly as one might offer a crust of bread to a lion. “Who are you?”

  His rough sigh evidenced what he thought of this waste of time. “Robby Crockett,” he said shortly. “Where’s April?”

  His glare was disconcerting, but she managed to hold her ground. “How do you know April, Mr. Crockett?” she asked, playing for time.

  She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she knew she had to figure a way to get him out of here—or at least distracted enough so that she could call the police.

  But he wasn’t listening. His sharp eyes had spied something. He leaned over and reached for it on the table, and then Cathy saw what it was. The matchbook.

  “What’s this?” he said, reading it. “Wild Horses? Lake Tahoe?” He looked up fiercely. “Don’t tell me she’s gone back to her old ways!” He waved the matchbook in Cathy’s face.

  Cathy held onto the cushion of her chair as though she were on a roller coaster ride and needed anchoring.

  “What do you mean?” she asked in a very small voice.

  “She used to be a show girl in Las Vegas. Sure, with those long legs of hers? She was real good, real popular. She used to go out with a lot of rich men, high rollers. How do you think she got herself the nest egg to get this house?”

  Cathy nodded. “Oh,” she said softly.

  His chest puffed out importantly. “I saved her from all that, you know. I had her working for me at my country and western club over on Pali. She’s my top hostess.”

  “I see.” His top hostess. That sounded on the up-and-up. But if he was just April’s employer, wondering why she wasn’t coming in to work, why was he here?

  “She’s done this to spite me. I’m sure of that.” His hand began to caress the knife again. “And it’s all because of those three rotten little babies. They ruined everything.”

  His words sent a chill down her spine. Whatever happened, she couldn’t let him near the triplets.

  She couldn’t help glancing at his hand on the knife. Watching him caress cold—and very sharp— steel made her wince. This man was not getting more gentle. In fact, thinking about the babies seemed to be riling him up.

  His face was darker than ever.

  “She should never have had those things in the first place. I told her so, right from the git-go. But would she listen? Hell no!”

  A horrifying thought came to Cathy. What if these were his children? All kinds of possibilities flew through her mind. What if he grabbed them and held them as hostages for April’s return? What if he decided he wanted to keep them? If she did call the police
, they might side with him, if he claimed he was the father. She had to keep these babies away from this man, this Robby Crockett, at all costs.

  She looked up and found him staring at the doorway into the hall behind her.

  “Hey! What was that?” he demanded. “I think one of those little grasshoppers got loose.”

  She swung around quickly and saw only the empty hall, leading to the stairway. “What? I don’t see anything.”

  Robby was pointing at the doorway, waving his finger angrily. “There’s some kid out there. He was making faces at me around the corner.”

  “What?” She turned and looked again, her heart beating, but there was absolutely nothing to see. “You must be imagining things.”

  Still, his reaction was beginning to worry her. She rose from the chair.

  “I’ll just go check,” she murmured, hurrying to the doorway and glancing out into the hall. There was a table and four chairs, a desk, a buffet up against the wall and a Persian carpet on the hardwood floor. There was no sign of life. The man was seeing things. Paranoid, probably. She turned to go back and bumped right into him.

  He glared around the area. “Come out, you little brat,” he said, his voice harsh.

  Cathy’s eyes suddenly caught sight of something underneath the buffet. It was Beanie’s round face, his grin wide and toothless. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

  “Let’s go back, shall we?” she suggested, her voice high and shrill. She took Robby’s arm and tugged.

  “How about a nice drink?” she said brightly, trying to edge him out of the hall and into the kitchen. “I’m sure there’s something in the liquor cabinet.”

  She tugged again, and this time he gave a little. “Let’s just go take a look. Okay?”

  She didn’t risk looking back until she had Robby in the kitchen. Then she turned and gestured wildly at her child.

  “Go to bed,” she mouthed. “Go, now!”

  Beanie laughed softly, obviously amused by the contortions she was putting her face through.