He slid his hand down her back. So slowly. His fingers caressed her along the way, lighting new fires wherever he touched. Not that she needed more. She was already too hot as it was. But Shaw managed to up the heat by cupping her bottom and adjusting their positions so that his sex actually managed to touch hers.
Sabrina nearly lost it right there.
It’d been so long since she’d been touched intimately that she felt close to a climax. And all from a simple touch and kiss.
Shaw took his mouth from her. But he didn’t move the rest of his body. He stayed there, touching her and driving her crazy.
“I don’t hate you,” he repeated, his voice as strained as the muscles in his jaw. “I want to…” He kissed her again, and it was as hard as his sex was against her. “I want to, well, let me just settle for saying I want to have sex with you.”
Sabrina didn’t know who looked more surprised, him or her. “Really?” And she proved her shock by repeating that one word several times. “I figured I look disgusting to you.”
“You look amazing,” he corrected. He slid his thumb over her bottom lip, collecting the moisture that had gathered there from the kiss. He put his thumb to his mouth and ran his tongue over it. “You taste amazing.”
But then he groaned, shook his head and stepped back.
Despite the loss of him touching her, the fire stayed with her, because she had a very good view of his incredible body, including that bulge behind the zipper of his pants. Sabrina was hot enough to want to ask if she could help him take care of that. She didn’t know how. She hadn’t experienced the logistics of pregnancy sex, but she was betting they could figure out a way.
“You had contractions earlier,” he reminded her. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“It was false labor,” she reminded him, “and yes, you should have kissed me.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. Almost a smile. Before he got serious again. “We have a lot to work out. Because I’m a man and because I want you, a certain part of me is suggesting we can work it out on that bunk bed.”
Sabrina smiled, too. Then she got serious, as well. “But?”
“But while sex would be a good release, it won’t help us.” He cursed and mumbled something about I can’t believe I just said that. “I need to work out what’s going on in my head before I work out what’s going on in my pants. Understand?”
“Yes, I do.” And Sabrina was being honest. A hot sexual attraction didn’t mean they had gotten beyond the past. But maybe it was a start.
“Plus, I have to keep you safe. That has to be my priority. If I have you on that bed, safety won’t be on my mind.”
“Well, I should hope not,” she said because she thought they could use a lighter moment.
He stared at her and reached out, as if he were about to pull her into another round of kissing. But there was a knock at the door.
“Captain Shaw, it’s Officer Newell. I need to speak to you.”
Newell, again. He certainly got around. And the thought of that made her uncomfortable. Sabrina shook it off and blamed it on paranoia. Being under attack had made her not want to trust anyone. Except Shaw, of course. She had no trouble trusting him. Or falling hard for him.
That kiss and these close quarters were going to complicate things beyond belief.
Shaw wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, took a deep breath and opened the door. “What is it?”
But Newell looked past Shaw and at Sabrina. “Gavin Cunningham is here at headquarters. Says he hired you and your company, Rootsfind, to locate someone for him. He’s demanding to see you now.”
“Good,” Shaw informed him. “Because I want to see him. He obviously didn’t commit suicide and wasn’t murdered.”
“No. But he is creating a scene.”
“Where is he?” Sabrina asked. She walked closer to the door, but Shaw grabbed her to ease her behind him.
“You should be resting,” he reminded her.
“And I will. But we both know this conversation could be critical. Gavin said he was responsible for me being taken hostage, and I want to know why he believes that.”
“I can question him,” Shaw insisted.
She gave him a flat look. “I’m betting you won’t get far with him.”
“He did say he wouldn’t talk to anyone but her,” Newell interjected.
Shaw still didn’t seem ready to budge, so Sabrina added, “I can sit down while I talk to him. And if I can get him to confess any part he might have had in all of this, then you can arrest him.”
It took several more moments before Shaw finally nodded, and they followed Newell down the hall and into another wing of the building. She found Gavin pacing in an interrogation room.
He was just as she’d last seen him, dressed to perfection in a tailored suit. His blond hair was perfectly groomed, as well. He looked the part of a young and upcoming attorney at the prestigious law firm where he worked.
Sabrina had run a background check on him after his first call to her, and she’d learned that even though he had been an attorney for only two years, he appeared to have a solid future and was well on his way to earning a seven-figure income.
“You’re here,” Gavin said. He didn’t try to come any closer, but without taking his eyes off her, he slowly sank into the chair on the opposite side of the table from where Shaw and she stood.
Shaw had her sit as well, but he stood and glared at Gavin.
“For the record, this is being recorded.” Shaw pointed to the camera mounted in the corner. “You have a problem with that?”
Gavin gave the camera wary look and then shrugged. “No problem with it. I want the truth to be heard.”
“Then we want the same thing,” Shaw assured him. “So, why are you responsible for Sabrina being taken hostage?”
Gavin fired some uncomfortable glances among Shaw, Sabrina and the camera before his gaze settled on her. “I guess I should tell you this in front of him. After all, the police will have to get involved.”
“The police are already involved,” Shaw warned. “I’m involved. Now, start talking. Did you arrange for the women to be taken hostage?”
“God, no.” He couldn’t have sounded more outraged, but it was short-lived. Gavin huffed out several bursts of air and continued, “But I think I know who did. I think it was Wilson Rouse.”
Now, that was a name she recognized. “The wealthy businessman who owns a chain of family style restaurants?” Sabrina clarified.
“The very one. I believe he might be my biological father. That’s what I wanted you to try to confirm by using your resources at Rootsfind. I figured you had all kinds of databases and such that you could tap into and get me quick results. And by the way, he knows I’m here talking to you because I called him before I came over. I want all our dirty little secrets out in the open.”
When Gavin didn’t continue, Shaw made an impatient circling motion with his finger. “Keep going.”
Gavin cleared his throat. “My mother died when I was six and never told me the identity of my father, but I recently found a letter where she mentioned Wilson Rouse. She implied they had an affair at the very time I would have been conceived. He was married and successful. Already a pillar in the conservative community. She was a waitress in one of his restaurants. So, I believe he dumped her when he found out she was pregnant.”
“What does this have to do with the hostages?” Sabrina asked.
“Maybe everything. I wanted proof that Rouse was my father, so day before yesterday, I arranged to meet him by telling him I represented a potential investor. We met over coffee, and I confronted him. He denied everything and said he’d never fathered any bastard children. So, after he left, I took the cup he’d used and gave it to the lab tech at the San Antonio Maternity Hospital. I also gave him a sample of my DNA so he could compare the two.”
So, that’s how the DNA file had gotten there. Well, that was one mystery solved.
“Wh
y take the DNA samples to the hospital?” Shaw asked.
“The lab tech was an old friend, and I thought he’d keep this between him and me. He didn’t.” Gavin closed his eyes a moment. “He called me before he ran the test and said even if the results didn’t match, he could fake them, and that way we could get hush money from Rouse.” He paused again. “Rouse wouldn’t want his squeaky clean image tarnished. I told the tech, no blackmail, but I believe he called Rouse anyway and threatened him with the DNA tests he was running for me.”
“So, what are you saying?” Shaw pressed. “That Wilson Rouse set up the hostage incident so he’d have a cover for his DNA and yours to be stolen?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Was the DNA stolen?” Gavin challenged.
Sabrina thought of the deleted file. Yes, it was possible that it had been.
Shaw didn’t answer Gavin’s question but went with one of his own. “What’s the tech’s name who had the sample?”
“Edward Reyes.”
“The one who was killed early in the hostage standoff,” Shaw provided.
Oh, mercy. So, the one person who could have cleared this up was dead. But they might finally have a motive for why this had happened. Of course, something still didn’t make sense. If the DNA had been destroyed, then why would Wilson Rouse still want to kidnap her?
Sabrina had a lot of questions and doubts about what Gavin had just told them, but why would he lie?
Shaw turned and went to the door. He motioned for someone, and a moment later, Newell appeared.
“Two things,” Shaw said, his voice low. Sabrina got up so she could hear what he was about to tell the officer. “What’s the status of that list of people who knew about the hotel arrangements for Sabrina and me?”
“I’m working on it.” Newell dodged Shaw’s gaze and looked at Gavin. “Learn anything from him?”
“Yeah. That’s the second thing I need. I have to speak to Wilson Rouse. Call him and get him down here. If he won’t come, arrest him.”
“No need for that. He showed up about five minutes ago because he said Cunningham called him,” Newell said, tipping his head to Gavin. “Mr. Rouse is waiting in your office. Should I bring him down here?”
“Absolutely. And get me that list. Within the hour, I want to know the names of everyone who might have put Sabrina and my baby in danger.”
Newell walked away. Shaw glanced at Sabrina. Then at Gavin, and he motioned for Sabrina to step into the hall with him. He closed the interrogation room door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked and went on the defensive. “Please don’t say you don’t want me here when you question Wilson Rouse because I want to hear what he has to say. If he’s responsible for what happened to me, I have to know.”
“So do I. You can stay.” He looked down the hall where Newell had exited. “But for now, we might have another problem.”
She followed his gaze. “Newell?”
“He couldn’t look me in the eye.”
Sabrina thought about the uncomfortable feeling she’d had about him showing up at the hotel the way he had. “You think he might be the leak?”
Shaw shook his head. “I don’t know, but it appears as if someone compromised our location. A cop would be in the best position to do that.”
“But Newell is the one who killed the gunman,” she pointed out.
“Maybe to keep him quiet,” Shaw pointed out just as quickly. He took out his phone and punched in some numbers.
“Who are you calling?”
“Someone I trust. Lieutenant O’Malley,” he said to the person he’d called. “I know you’re swamped in Homicide, but I really need a favor. A quiet favor. Run a check on Keith Newell for me. Dig deep and look for anything suspicious. Anything. And I also need you to see who would have known that Sabrina and I were in that hotel where we were attacked.”
Sabrina couldn’t hear what the lieutenant said, but his response was short and caused Shaw to nod approvingly.
“Yes, actually there is something else I need. Food and toiletries for Sabrina. I might have to keep her in the flop room for the rest of the day. Thanks,” Shaw said a moment later, and ended the call.
He touched her arm with his fingers and rubbed gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
He would, if he could, but Shaw wasn’t a superhero, and the danger was still there, stronger than ever.
“Captain Tolbert,” someone called out.
She recognized the tall man with the graying blond hair who was making his way toward them because she had seen his photo in the newspaper. It was Wilson Rouse. Apparently, round two was about to start.
Rouse walked closer. “Could we talk in private?” he asked Shaw.
Shaw shook his head and stepped just a few feet away. “No. This is Sabrina Carr, one of the maternity hostages, and she’s in my protective custody. Wherever I go, she goes with me, so private conversations are out.”
“Sabrina Carr,” the man repeated. She didn’t think it was her imagination that he had some disdain for her. “Gavin Cunningham came to you, and you encouraged his lies.”
“Hardly.” Sabrina lifted her shoulder. “Gavin just filled us in on the details. Before now, I had no idea that the biological father he wanted me to find was you.”
“It isn’t me. And whatever that slick weasel told you, it’s a lie.”
“Really?” Shaw said with skepticism dripping from his voice.
“Really. Because he’s trying to set me up. You want to know who’s responsible for that hostage mess?” He pulled out a small tape recorder from his pocket. “Well, I got the proof of who’s guilty right here.”
Chapter Eight
Shaw was having second and third thoughts about Sabrina sitting in on this meeting with Rouse and Gavin. He didn’t want her more stressed than she already was.
But he also didn’t want her out of his sight.
He trusted almost all his men, but those same men he trusted were swamped with the hostage investigation and the normal cases. Besides, it was possible that Gavin would be more open if Sabrina were in the room, and that openness could maybe lead them to the truth—even if this wasn’t standard procedure to have a victim in the same room with the possible perpetrators.
“I want you to stay off your feet,” Shaw insisted, and he led Sabrina back to the chair in the interview room where she’d sat earlier.
Shaw sat next to her, directly across from Gavin, but Rouse didn’t sit. He walked in, slammed the door shut and aimed glares at all of them. He saved the more intense glare for Gavin.
“I have proof of what you’ve done,” Rouse accused the other man.
“And if you hadn’t stolen the DNA from the hospital lab, I would have had proof that you’re my father,” Gavin accused right back.
“Not a chance. I had your mother checked out, and she might have worked for me, but I didn’t play under the sheets with the waitresses. Or with any woman other than my wife,” he quickly added.
Rouse held up the miniature tape recorder and clicked the play button. Shaw immediately heard a man’s voice.
An angry man.
“I won’t let you get away with this, Rouse. So help me, I will make you pay. I’ll ruin the only thing you seem to give a damn about—your precious name—and I don’t care what I have to do to make that happen.”
It was clear that it was Gavin’s voice, and the young man jumped to his feet. “That conversation had nothing to do with what happened at the hospital.”
Rouse smiled. “Didn’t it?”
“You know it didn’t. Play the rest of it.” But then he shook his head and sank back down into the chair. “Yes, I did threaten him, and it’ll sound as if I’m trying to set him up. But I didn’t.”
Gavin’s reaction seemed honest, but Shaw wasn’t about to declare him innocent of anything. “Why did you want to make Rouse pay?” Shaw asked. But he thought he already knew the answer—because Rouse wouldn’t acknowledge t
hat Gavin was his son.
“Tell him,” Rouse prompted when Gavin didn’t answer.
Gavin took his time responding. “I sued him on behalf of a client, and I lost.”
“He lost because he tried to cut some corners with depositions, and I caught him in the act. It was his first big case,” Rouse happily provided. “And he blew it big-time. That didn’t sit well with the partners in his law firm, and since one of them is a golfing buddy of mine, I explained he should rethink his decision about keeping on the boy genius here.”
Shaw silently groaned. He glanced at Sabrina, who had her eyes tipped to the ceiling. “So, you faked this whole fatherhood accusation to get back at him?” Sabrina asked Gavin.
“No!” Gavin practically shouted.
“You bet he did,” Rouse contradicted, his voice booming over Gavin’s. “You have no blood of mine in your body. And you’re not getting a penny of my money.” He turned to Shaw. “My theory is that genius here decided to get his lab tech friend to help blackmail me. When that didn’t work, he hired the gunmen, probably also friends of his, to make it look as if I wanted to steal my DNA.”
Shaw shook his head. “That’s a lot of trouble to go through to set you up because you tried to get him fired. People died during that hostage standoff. A baby is missing.”
“Well, I’m not responsible,” Rouse insisted, jamming his thumb to his chest. “Things probably got out of hand, especially if those gunmen were friends of his. They probably just panicked and screwed up.”
“I didn’t do this!” Gavin shouted.
The two men launched into a loud argument that could probably have gone on for hours, so Shaw stood and put an end to it. “There’s one way to settle this. Both of you give me DNA samples, and we’ll see who’s telling the truth.”
Well, the truth about fatherhood anyway. And it might be a start to the truth about why the hostages had been taken, if Rouse was truly Gavin’s father.
“You want my DNA sample?” Rouse asked, but he didn’t wait for Shaw to answer. “Then get a court order. Oh, and good luck with that. Unlike the incompetent legal eagle here, I have an outstanding team of lawyers who’ll fight you every step of the way.”
The Baby’s Guardian Page 8