The Cradle Files

by Delores Fossen

  Garrett waited. And waited. But she didn't finish her request for information. She just stood there, tears threatening and her bottom lip trembling. He forced himself to stay put. Comforting could lead to holding.

  Or shooting.

  Neither was going to happen, not tonight. Not ever.

  "You need to know what?" he pressed. "I'm not a mind reader, Lexie."

  Without breaking eye contact, and without lowering her gun, she sat down on the foot of his bed. The mattress creaked softly.

  She pulled in a long, weary breath, released it. "Are you the father of my baby?"

  Chapter Two

  "Am I what?" Garrett O'Malley demanded.

  But he didn't just demand it. His hands went to his hips, and he pinned his Celtic-green gaze on her. With that stare, he questioned her integrity. Her presence.

  And her sanity.

  Lexie was right there with him. She, too, was questioning a lot of things, her sanity included. It was probably a huge mistake to come here like this, but she hadn't had a choice. She needed answers, and Sergeant Garrett O'Malley was the person most likely to have them.

  Not exactly a comforting thought.

  It was obvious that he hated her. Why, she didn't know. But from the few things she'd learned, he probably had good reason to. It was possible she had reasons to hate him as well.

  "I asked if you're the father of my baby," Lexie clarified, though she was certain he'd heard her.

  Hearing and grasping, however, were two different things. She'd basically just delivered a bombshell and was giving Garrett O'Malley mere seconds to absorb it. Heck, she'd had days and hadn't fully managed to, and what she had managed to understand, she didn't like.

  She was in a lot of trouble.

  But then, perhaps, so was Garrett.

  She'd save that news for later. First, there was the issue of paternity.

  "Well?" she prompted.

  Lexie saw the moment that her bombshell actually registered. His eyes widened. Every muscle in his body seemed to turn to iron.

  "Oh, man." He groaned and stepped back, his chest pumping as if he were suddenly starved for air. "Was that an honest-to-goodness question?"

  "Unfortunately, yes." And she tried to brace herself for an equally honest answer. He held her life, her heart and her future in his hands, and he didn't even know it.

  Yet.

  He opened his mouth. Closed it. Only to open it again so he could curse. "Why are you doing this?"

  She ignored his question. "Did we sleep together?"

  "No." He said it without a shred of hesitation.

  Lexie's heart sank to her knees. Oh, mercy. Had she gotten this all wrong?

  Garrett let that unhesitant no bristle between them while he stared daggers at her. His mouth tightened into a semi-sneer. "But we did have sex," he clarified. "You left before either of us could get any sleep."

  The relief flooded through her. Why, she didn't know. Other than the fact O'Malley was a cop, he didn't seem like the best choice for fatherhood or a likely candidate to help keep her alive. From what she'd read about him, he had a penchant for attracting trouble. That penchant apparently included attracting her, as well.

  "So, we weren't in love or anything like that?" she questioned.

  "No." He practically spat out the word. More profanity followed. "If you want to put a label on it, we were in brief, temporary lust."

  Yes. She could see that. Garrett O'Malley was, well, hot by anyone's standards.

  Especially hers.

  Even with the fatigue and the relentless haze in her brain, she couldn't deny that. He was lean and lethal, just over six feet tall, with a body and face that had probably garnered him many invitations to women's beds. Not exactly the knight in shining armor type with those jeans that clung to every part of him.

  Heck, he wasn't even the cop type.

  With that sopping wet, a-little-too-long, bronze-colored hair, hint of desperado stubble and bad boy demeanor, he would have been more at home on a Harley.

  Or in a police lineup.

  "Lust," Lexie mumbled. She'd counted on something more. Much more. Because she desperately needed his help. Still, lust would have to do, since it was all she had. "Did we have sex about nine and a half months ago?"

  Oh, that riled him. She saw the anger flash in his eyes. It merged with the confusion and the profanity that was already there.

  "You know we did." He stepped closer and aimed an accusing index finger at her. She wanted to get off the bed and move back. To keep her distance. But if she tried to stand up now, she'd risk falling flat on her face.

  That would hardly be an effective bargaining position.

  "So, what the hell is this all about?" he asked. "And while you're explaining, get to the part about me being the father of your baby. Are you actually saying you were pregnant?"

  She considered her answer. There was only one way to go with this—she had to tell him the truth. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure just how much was true and how much was a product of the drug that'd been used to try to murder her.

  "Let me start from the beginning." Lexie paused. "Or at least what I know to be the beginning. I haven't seen a doctor, but it seems as if I've, uh, lost some of my memory."

  His accusing finger dropped slowly back to his side, and even though his mouth didn't gape, it came close. "You have amnesia?"

  She nodded. "Maybe."

  "Maybe?"

  Lexie tried not to huff at his sarcasm. They had too many battles ahead of them without him questioning everything she said. "Maybe is as good of an answer as I can give you right now. That's why I pawned my necklace and bought the gun. Because I didn't know if we were friends or enemies."

  "There's a lot of gray area as far as our relationship is concerned. And some not so gray," he gruffly added. But the gruffness eased a bit when he continued. "You pawned your necklace—the gold rose with the diamond in the center?"

  It was an odd question, but it also seemed important. She nodded. "Was the necklace a gift from you?"

  "No. We didn't exchange gifts. Your father gave it to you. I'm just surprised you'd be willing to part with it."

  She'd parted with it because she hadn't known its value, and because she'd needed money to survive. However, knowing now that her father had given it to her made her ache at losing something so precious.

  Of course, she'd lost something else far more precious.

  "Why don't we get back to your explanation?" Garrett insisted. "Approximately nine and a half months ago, we were together in a hotel room in downtown San Antonio."

  "Having sex," she provided, latching on to the information as if it were nuggets of gold. Which in a way it was. Everything she could learn might bring her closer to unraveling this puzzle inside her head.

  He confirmed that with a nod. "Afterward—"

  She held up her hand. "Don't go there yet. Why was I in a hotel room with you having sex?"

  The question earned her a blank stare. Hooking his thumbs into the waist of his jeans, Garrett leaned against the wall. "You honestly don't remember?"

  "If I did, I wouldn't be asking. I'm not here to relive our past."

  "Right. You're here because you want to know if I'm the father of your baby." More skepticism. Lexie totally understood his reaction. But she could also see that he was mentally doing the math. Nine and a half months ago fit with the other pieces of the puzzle.

  She nodded. "And because someone tried to kill me."

  His left eyebrow arched. Not exactly a vote of confidence. "Okay, I'll play. We were in a hotel room because you were in my protective custody. You were a material witness for your former boss, Billy Avery, and you testified against him for racketeering. Well, partly testified. You made it through the first day of questioning, but you left before you could finish."

  "I was Billy Avery's bodyguard," she supplied.

  He made a sound of agreement. "You remember that part, so your amnesia must be cured." More cynicism
. Perhaps his way of coping. Or better yet, his way of tap-dancing around the other subject.

  The baby.

  "Not really," Lexie explained. "I read about it in the newspapers I found on the Internet." The images of those articles began to race through Lexie's head. She'd been having a lot of those lately. Unfocused thoughts. Blurry images. Lots and lots of confusion.

  She didn't need the mental clutter now.

  She had to focus.

  "So, after I testified, we had sex…." Lexie almost had a duh moment and asked why again. But all she had to do was look at Garrett O'Malley and she knew the reason why. The lost memories hadn't dulled her physical reaction to this man. "Then, it's my guess something happened to cause me to leave?"

  He didn't answer right away. "I think Avery's threats maybe got to you. You were scared."

  She suspected he was omitting something important. "Anything else that might have contributed?"

  "We argued." Just that. Tossed at her like a gauntlet. "Now, can we get to the baby part? If you have amnesia, how do you even know you had a child?"

  Without loosening her grip on the gun, she caught her bulky shirt and lifted it so he could see the trio of pale, thready stretch marks on her stomach. "I think I remember going into labor three weeks and two days ago. That date is fixed in my head. I believe that's because the whole time I was in labor, I kept thinking that it would be my baby's birthday. But everything's jumbled. So, I could be wrong." A massive understatement, and it didn't apply just to her thought process but to her entire life. "Mercy, I know how all of this must sound."

  "No. You don't. I step out of my shower, go in search of a towel and instead get held at gunpoint by an amnesiac woman who thinks I might be the father of her child. But the problem is, other than a few stretch marks, she's not even sure she had a baby."

  Oh, Lexie was sure of that. Hard to forget the god-awful pain that had made her feel as if she were being ripped in two. And then, after hours and hours, the pain had stopped. She'd heard that soft, kitten-like cry. Even now, with all the uncertainty, that cry still got to her. That was her baby's cry, and no one could make her believe differently.

  Grumbling something under his breath, Garrett walked closer, and closer, until he was practically looming over her. "Lexie, you need to put down that gun so I can take you to a doctor."

  She frowned. She hadn't wanted the conversation to move in this direction. And she darn sure hadn't wanted him that near to her, either. "You mean a shrink? You don't believe the baby part."

  He made a sound that could have meant anything. Or nothing. "We only had sex once, and we used a condom."

  Yet more unexpected information. She was getting a lot of that tonight. "Then something went wrong."

  She tried to force her brain to remember exactly what. But it was useless. Forcing only seemed to make her memory cloudier.

  Frustrated with herself she shook her head. His simultaneous movement registered just a second too late.

  Garrett reached out.

  Lightning fast.

  And just like that, he snatched the gun from her hand.

  He didn't stop there. In a little maneuver that was practically a blur, he came at her. Lexie turned, to try to scramble away from him, but Garrett practically tackled her. The momentum sent them both crashing onto the overly soft bed. He twisted his body to take the majority of the impact. But then he turned. Trapping her. So that she couldn't move.

  Fighting through the initial panic, she took a moment to assess her situation. And it wasn't a very good assessment. Garrett was on top of her, his body completely covering hers. She was no longer armed.

  But he was.

  With her gun.

  Even if he hadn't had a weapon in his right hand, his body would have certainly been classified as one. He was all sinew and muscle.

  And he was all over her.

  His right leg was wedged between hers. His chest squashed against her breasts. Their middles aligned perfectly, as if they were about to have sex.

  That alignment didn't bring back any memories.

  However, it did remind her that he was a very virile man.

  As if she needed anything to remind her of that.

  What was wrong with her, anyway? Her brain was messed up. So was her body. Only three and a half weeks ago she'd given birth, and here she was reacting to a man who for all practical purposes was a stranger. Maybe this was a bad case of postdelivery hormones. If so, it was a sick trick to play on her.

  Because Garrett was so close, Lexie caught his scent. His ocean-scented deodorant soap. His shampoo. His spearmint toothpaste. And beneath all the toiletry stuff, his own scent was there. All man.

  Not that she'd had any doubts about that.

  "Well?" he said. Definitely not a question, but more like a challenge. It had a tinge of a Texas drawl and a hefty amount of anger in it.

  He didn't believe her.

  For the first time since she'd started this fiasco, Lexie was truly afraid. "What are you going to do to me?"

  He blinked, surprised, as if genuinely insulted. "I'm not going to kill you, that's for sure. If I'd wanted you dead," he informed her, enunciating each word carefully, "you already would be."

  Because she couldn't let him think she was weak, Lexie hiked up her chin and met him eye to eye. "I could say the same thing," she retorted.

  Okay, so that was a lie. But maybe Garrett didn't know that, and right now, she'd do whatever it took, including an attempt at intimidation, to get his cooperation. She had to make him believe her because she needed his help.

  He shifted slightly, so that his thigh wasn't pressed against the V junction of her jeans. "If the condom failed, then I have just one question," he said. "Where's the baby?"

  It was the only question that mattered.

  The memories of the delivery came flooding back. The pain. God, the pain. That tiny cry. And just like that, Lexie found herself blinking back more tears.

  So much for her attempt at appearing strong and sturdy.

  She was failing at a lot of things tonight.

  "I tried to stop it," she heard herself say. Mercy, her voice was ripe with fatigue and weariness. "But the man was too strong."

  Garrett eased off her. "The man who tried to kill you?"

  "No. This man was there when I delivered. With the doctor. The doctor had slightly graying hair. He was tall, with wide shoulders. And he shoved a needle in my arm. It was filled with some kind of drug. I think it was the drug that left me with all these gaps in my memory."

  Garrett stood, staring down at her. "Then how do you know the baby isn't a drug-induced figment?"

  "She isn't a figment," Lexie insisted. "She's real."

  Garrett paused. "She?"

  "I didn't actually see the baby, but I'm positive it was a little girl."

  His expression softened. Briefly. And then the concern returned and settled into his eyes. "Lexie, what happened? What did this man do?"

  She wasn't even sure she could say the words aloud. Just thinking them nearly ripped her heart apart.

  "He stole the baby. And we have to find her, Garrett. One way or another, we have to get our daughter back."

  Chapter Three

  Garrett felt as if someone had slugged him. Twice.

  "Oh, man," he mumbled. And because he didn't know what else to say or do, he just stood there and kept mumbling it.

  A baby.

  Specifically, a three-and-a-half-week-old daughter.

  A child he'd conceived with Lexie during the "adrenaline sex" they'd had after she testified against her boss.

  Well, maybe.

  And maybe all of this was some bizarre encounter with a woman who was no longer sane.

  Except Lexie seemed sane. Well, she did if he disregarded half of what she'd said. Oh, and if he didn't count the fact that she'd broken into his house and held him at gunpoint.

  Not exactly the actions of a sane woman.

  But if what she'd told him was true
, then what she had been through would have tested anyone's sanity.

  Lexie got up from the bed. Not slowly, either. And she immediately started toward him.

  "Don't you even think about trying to get this gun back," Garrett warned through clenched teeth. "And forget any thoughts about trying to pound me into the floor by using your martial arts training. And definitely don't do anything else that'll rile me."

  She blinked. "I have martial arts training?"

  He was certain he scowled—because under the circumstances it seemed a semi-trivial question and because he probably shouldn't have informed her of that particular talent. "Yeah. You do."

  Lexie touched her fingertips to her right temple. "I wish I'd known that sooner."

  "Lucky for me you didn't, because I obviously have enough to deal with." And he needed to start dealing. "Honesty time," he insisted, turning toward her. Unfortunately, because she was already so close, that move put their faces only a couple of inches apart. Breath met breath. "Is all of what you told me true?"

  "Yes." She paused. Nodded. Paused again. "There are some blank spots in my memory, but giving birth isn't one of them. I swear I had a baby."

  And he was the father.

  Okay. He didn't doubt that last part. If Lexie had indeed had a child, then the timing was perfect for it to be his. Unfortunately, the pregnancy timing was the only thing that was perfect or that made sense.

  She pressed her lips together for a moment and gave him a considering stare. "I don't think I would have left your bed and gone to another man."

  "You wouldn't have." In fact, in those days leading up to Billy Avery's trial, while Lexie had still been in his protective custody, they'd talked about a lot of things, including their sex lives.

  Or lack thereof.

  Lexie wasn't a person who slept around. Neither was he, despite the player reputation he had among his fellow officers.

  Even though he tried to tamp down all the wild scenarios that started to fly through his head, he wasn't completely successful. But Garrett forced himself to focus.