Books by Nora Roberts

by Roberts, Nora

"Oh, I would dearly love a little wine." The woman smiled wispily. "I don't want to be any bother."

  "Not at all." Mel took her arm and led her to a chair. "What can I get you?"

  "Oh, Ethan will take care of it. Won't you, Ethan?"

  "Of course. Excuse me."

  "A good boy," Harriet said as her son walked off to the buffet table. "Takes such good care of me." She smiled up at Mel. "Linda tells me you've recently moved to Tahoe."

  "Yes, my husband and I moved from Seattle. It's quite a change."

  "Indeed, indeed. Ethan and I sometimes vacation here. We keep a nice little condo."

  They chatted while Ethan brought back a plate with a few choice canap‚s and a small glass of wine. Linda had already slipped off when Mel glanced over and saw Sebastian approaching.

  "This is my husband." Mel slipped a hand through his arm. "Donovan, this is Harriet and Ethan Breezeport."

  "Linda said you were a dashing figure." Harriet offered a hand. "I'm afraid I've been hoarding your charming wife."

  "I'm often guilty of that myself. In fact, I have to steal her for a moment. A small problem in the kitchen. Enjoy yourselves."

  He nudged Mel along and then, finding no private spot, ducked with her into a closet.

  "Donovan, for God's sake-"

  "Shh." In the dim light, his eyes were very bright. "It's her," he said quietly.

  "Who's her, and why are we standing in the closet?"

  "The old woman. She's the one."

  "The one?" Mel's mouth fell open. "Excuse me, do you expect me to believe that that fragile old lady is the head of a babynapping ring?"

  "Exactly." He kissed her astonished mouth. "We're closing in, Sutherland."

  CHAPTER 12

  Mel met Harriet Breezeport twice more over the next two days, once for tea and again at a party. If it hadn't been for her faith in Sebastian, Mel would have laughed at the idea of the whispery-voiced matron as the head of a criminal organization.

  But she did have faith in him, so she watched, and played her part.

  It was Devereaux who fed them the information that neither Harriet nor Ethan Breezeport owned a condo in Tahoe. Nor, in fact, was there any record that either party existed.

  Still, when the contact came, it came from neither of them, but from a tanned young man with a tennis racket. Mel had just finished a match with Linda and was waiting over a glass of iced tea for Sebastian to complete a round of golf with Gumm. The man approached, wearing tennis whites and a dazzling smile.

  "Mrs. Ryan?"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm John Silbey. A mutual acquaintance pointed you out. I wonder if I could have a word with you?"

  Mel hesitated, as she imagined a happily married woman might when approached by a strange man. "All right."

  He sat, laying the tennis racket across his tanned knees. "I realize this is a bit unorthodox, Mrs. Ryan, but, as I said, we have mutual acquaintances. I've been told you and your husband might be interested in my services."

  "Really?" She arched a brow coolly, but her heart was picking up rhythm. "You don't look like a gardener, Mr. Silbey, though my husband and I are quite desperate for one."

  "No, indeed." He laughed heartily. "I'm afraid I can't help you there. I'm a lawyer, Mrs. Ryan."

  "Oh?" She tried for hopeful confusion, and apparently pulled it off. Silbey leaned a little closer and spoke gently.

  "This isn't the usual way I solicit clients, but when you were pointed out to me just now, I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to become acquainted. I'm told you and your husband are interested in a private adoption."

  She moistened her lips and rattled the ice in her glass for good measure. "I- We've hoped," she said slowly. "We've tried. It's been very difficult. All the agencies we've tried have such long waiting lists."

  "I understand."

  And she could see that he did, and that he was very pleased to find her emotional, desperate and primed. He touched her hand in sympathy.

  "We tried going through a lawyer before, but the whole thing fell through at the last minute." She pressed her lips together, as if to steady them. "I'm not sure I could handle that kind of disappointment again."

  "It's wrenching, I'm sure. I would hate to get your hopes up before we discuss this in more detail, but I can tell you that I've represented several women who have, for one reason or another, required the placement of their child. What they want for them is a good home, a loving home. It's my job to find that, Mrs. Ryan. And when I do, I have to say, it's one of the most rewarding experiences a man can have."

  And one of the most lucrative, Mel thought, but she smiled tremulously. "We want very much to provide a good and loving home for a child, Mr. Silbey. If you could help us- I can't begin to tell you how grateful we'd be."

  He touched her hand again. "Then, if you're agreeable, we'll talk further."

  "We could come to your office, anytime you say."

  "Actually, I'd like to meet you and your husband under less restrictive circumstances. At your home, so that I can assure my client on how you live, how you are together as a couple, in your own habitat."

  "Of course, of course," she said, brimming with excitement. Don't have an office, do you, bucko? "Whenever it's convenient for you."

  "Well, I'm afraid I'm booked for the next couple of weeks."

  "Oh." She didn't have to feign disappointment. "Oh, well, I suppose we've waited this long-"

  He waited a moment, then smiled kindly. "I could spare an hour this evening, unless you-''

  "Oh, no." She grabbed his hand in both of hers. "That would be wonderful. I'm so grateful. Donovan and I- Thank you, Mr. Silbey."

  "I hope I'll be able to help. Is seven o'clock all right with you?"

  "It's fine." She blinked out tears of gratitude.

  When he left her, she stayed in character, certain there would be someone watching. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, pressed a hand to her lips. Sebastian found her sniffing into her watery iced tea.

  "Mary Ellen." The sight of her red-rimmed eyes and trembling lips brought instant concern. "Darling, what's wrong?" The moment he took her hands, the jolt of excitement nearly rocked him back on his heels. Only sheer willpower kept the astonishment from showing.

  "Oh, Donovan." She scrambled to her feet, spotting Gumm over his shoulder. "I'm making a scene." Laughing, she wiped at the tears. "I'm sorry, Jasper."

  "Not at all." Gallantly he offered a silk handkerchief. "Has someone upset you, Mary Ellen?"

  "No, no." She gave a little shuddering sob. "It's good news. Marvelous news. I'm just overreacting. Would you excuse us, Jasper? Give my regrets to Linda. I really need to speak with Donovan alone."

  "Of course." He walked off to give them their privacy, and Mel buried her face in Sebastian's shoulder.

  "What the hell is going on?" he demanded in a soothing murmur as he stroked her hand.

  "Contact." All damp eyes and shaky smiles, she drew her head back. "This sleazy lawyer-hell, I doubt he is a lawyer-just plopped himself down and offered to help us with a private adoption. Look delighted."

  "I am." He kissed her for his own enjoyment, and for the benefit of their audience. "What's the deal?"

  "Out of the goodness of his heart, and in consideration of a desperate woman, he's agreed to come by tonight and discuss our needs in more detail."

  "Very obliging of him."

  "Oh, yes. I may not have your gifts, but I could read his mind well enough. One look at me and he thought patsy. I could almost hear him calculating his take. Let's go home." She slipped an arm around him. "The air around here is really bad."

  "Well?" Linda asked Gumm as they watched Sebastian and Mel walk away.

  "Like shooting fish in a barrel." Pleased with himself, he signaled to a waiter. "They're so giddy with the idea, they'll ask the minimum amount of questions and pay the maximum fee. He might be a little more cautious, but he's so besotted with her he'd do anything to make her happy."

 
; "Ah, love." Linda sneered. "It's the best scam in town. You got the merchandise picked out?"

  Gumm ordered drinks then sat back to light a cigarette. "He wants a boy, so I think we'll oblige him, since he's paying top dollar. We've got a nurse in New Jersey ready to select a healthy male right out of the hospital."

  "Good. You know, I'm fond of Mary Ellen. Maybe I'll throw her a shower."

  "An excellent idea. I wouldn't be surprised if in a year or two they'd be in the market again." He checked his watch. "I'd better call Harriet and tell her she can start pushing buttons."

  "Better you than me," Linda said with a grimace. "The old bag gives me the creeps."

  "The old bag runs a smooth setup," he reminded her.

  "Yeah, and business is business." Linda picked up the glass the waiter set in front of her and raised it in a toast. "To the happy mommy-and-daddy-to-be."

  "To an easy twenty-five grand."

  "Better." Linda touched her glass to his. "Much better."

  Mel knew her part and was ready when Silbey arrived promptly at seven. Her hand trembled a bit as she accepted his. "I'm so glad you could come."

  "It's my pleasure."

  She led him into the sprawling living room, chattering brightly. "We've only been in the house a couple of weeks. There are still a lot of changes I want to make. There's a room upstairs that would make a wonderful nursery. I hope- Donovan." Sebastian stood across the room, pouring a drink. "Mr. Silbey is here."

  Sebastian knew his part, as well. He appeared to be reserved and nervous as he offered Silbey a drink. After a few social inanities, they sat, Sebastian and Mel close together on the sofa, hands linked in mutual support.

  All solicitude, Silbey opened his briefcase. "If I could just ask you a few questions? Get to know you a bit?"

  They filled in their established backgrounds while Silbey took notes. But it was their body language that told the tale. The quick, hopeful glances exchanged, the touches. Silbey continued the interview, completely unaware that every word he spoke was being transmitted to two federal agents in an upstairs room.

  Clearly pleased with the progress he was making, Silbey sent them an encouraging look. "I have to say, in my personal and professional opinion, you would make excellent parents. The selecting of a home for a child is a very delicate matter."

  He pontificated for a while on stability, responsibility, and the special requirements of raising an adopted child. Mel's stomach turned even as she beamed at him.

  "I can see that you've both thought this through very seriously, very thoroughly. There is, however, a point you may want to discuss at more length. The expenses. I know it sounds crass, putting a price on something we should consider a miracle. But there is a reality to be accepted. There's a matter of medical expenses and compensation to the mother, my fee, court costs and filing-all of which I will handle."

  "We understand," Sebastian said, wishing he was free to wring Silbey's neck.

  "I'll require a twenty-five-thousand-dollar retainer, and another hundred and twenty-five thousand at the end of the legalities. This will include all the expenses of the mother."

  Sebastian started to speak. He was, after all, a businessman. But Mel gripped his hand tighter and hit him with a pleading glance.

  "The money won't be a problem," he said, and touched her cheek.

  "All right then." Silbey smiled. "I have a client. She's very young, unmarried. She wants very much to finish college, and has come to the difficult decision that raising a child on her own would make this impossible. I'll be able to provide you with her medical background, and that of the father. She's quite firm that there be no other information divulged. With your permission, I will tell her about you, and give her my recommendation."

  "Oh." Mel pressed her fingers to her lips. "Oh, yes."

  "To be frank, you're exactly the kind of parents she was hoping for. I believe we'll be able to complete this with everyone's best interest served."

  "Mr. Silbey." Mel leaned her head against Sebastian's shoulder. "When- I mean, how soon would we know? And the child-What can you tell us?"

  "I'd say you'd know within forty-eight hours. As far as the child-" He smiled benignly. "My client is due to deliver any day. I have a feeling my call is going to ease her mind tremendously."

  By the time they had walked Silbey to the door, Mel had shed a few more tears. The moment she was alone with Sebastian, fury burned her eyes dry.

  "That sonofa-"

  "I know." He put his hands on her shoulders. She was vibrating like a plucked string. "We'll get them, Mel. We'll get them all."

  "You're damn right we will." She paced to the stairs and back. "You know what this means, don't you? They're going to steal a baby, an infant, probably right out of a hospital or clinic."

  "Logical as always," he murmured, watching her carefully.

  "I can't stand it." She pressed a hand to her churning stomach. "I can't bear the idea of some poor woman lying in a hospital bed being told her baby's been stolen."

  "It won't take long." He wanted to slip into her thoughts, to see for himself just what was in her head. But he'd given his word. "We have to play this through."

  "Yeah." That was just what she was going to do. He wouldn't approve, she decided. And neither would the feds. But there were times you had to follow your heart. "We'd better make sure the boys upstairs got all of that." She took a deep breath. "Then I think we should do what any happy, expectant couple would do."

  "Which is?"

  "Go out and tell our dearest friends. And celebrate."

  Mel sat in the lounge at the Silver Palace with a glass of champagne in her hand and a smile on her lips. "To new and valued friends."

  Linda laughed and clinked glasses. "Oh, no, to the happy parents-to-be."

  "We'll never be able to thank you." She looked from Linda to Gumm. "Both of you."

  "Nonsense." Gumm patted her hand. "Linda merely made an inquiry to a friend. We're both delighted such a small gesture reaped such benefits."

  "We still have to sign papers," Sebastian pointed out. "And wait for the mother's approval."

  "We're not going to worry about any of that." Linda waved details away. "What we have to do now is plan a baby shower. I'd love to give you one, Mary Ellen, up in the penthouse."

  Though she was getting damned tired of weeping, Mel let her eyes fill. "That's so-" Tears spilled over as she got to her feet. "Excuse me." An emotional wreck, she rushed off to the ladies' room. As she'd hoped, Linda followed her a moment later.

  "What an idiot I am."

  "Don't be silly." Linda sat beside her, slipped an arm around her. "They say expectant mothers are apt to cry at the drop of a hat."

  With a shaky laugh, Mel dried her eyes. "I suppose. Would you mind terribly getting me a drink of water before I try to repair the damage?"

  "Sit right there."

  Mel figured she had twenty seconds at best, so she moved fast. She flipped open Linda's beaded evening bag, pushed through past lipstick and perfume and gripped the penthouse key. She was slipping it into the pocket of her evening pants when Linda came back with a cup.

  "Thanks." Mel smiled up at her. "Thanks a lot."

  The next step was to get away from the group for at least twenty minutes without being detected. She suggested a celebratory dinner, with a little gambling as an appetizer. Always the gracious host, Gumm insisted on making the arrangements in the dining room himself. Marking time, Mel managed to slip away from Sebastian and Linda in the crowd at the crap table.

  She took the express elevator, keeping well to the back of the glass walls. The top floor was silent as she stepped out. Mel checked her watch, then fit the key into the lock of the penthouse.

  She didn't need much. With the evidence they already had, she needed only enough to link Gumm and Linda with Silbey or the Breezeports. She judged Gumm as a man who kept records on everything-and kept them cleverly.

  Maybe it was rash, she thought as she headed straight for
a huge ebony desk. But the idea of them even now plotting to steal a baby fired her blood. She wasn't going to stand by while someone else went through what Rose and Stan had experienced. Not while there was a chance she could make a difference.

  She found nothing in the desk of interest and used up five of her allotted twenty minutes in the search. Undaunted, she moved on, checking tables for false bottoms, locating a wall safe behind a section of books. She would have loved to have the time and the talent to lift that lock, but she had to admit defeat. With less than three minutes to go, she found what she was looking for in plain sight.

  The second bedroom of the suite served as a fussily decorated office that Linda used as a convenience. There, on top of her French provincial desk, was a leather-bound account book.

  At first glance, it seemed like nothing more than it purported to be, a daily record of deliveries for the hotel shops. Mel had nearly put it down again in disgust when she noted the dates.

  Merchandise acquired 1/21. Tampa. Picked up 1/22. Little Rock. Delivered 1/23. Louisville. Accepted COD 1/25. Detroit. Commission $10,000.

  Breathing shallowly, Mel flipped pages.

  Merchandise acquired 5/5. Monterey. Picked up 5/6. Scuttle-field. 5/7. Delivered 5/8. Lubbock. Accepted COD 5/11. Atlanta. Commission $12,000.

  David, she thought, and didn't bother to hold back a string of oaths. It was right there, all the dates and cities. And more. Babies listed like packages to be shipped and paid for on delivery.

  Tight-lipped, she skimmed the pages and let out a hiss between her teeth.

  H.B. ordered new blue package, West Bloomfield, New Jersey. Pick up between 8/22 and 8/25. Standard route, acceptance and final payment expected by 8/31. Estimated commission $25,000.

  "You bitch," Mel muttered as she closed the book. She struggled against the urge to break something, and scanned the room instead. When she was certain nothing was out of place, she started for the door.

  "Oh, she's probably off having another crying jag," Linda said as she walked through the main door of the penthouse into the parlor. "He'll find her."

  Mel took a quick look around and opted for the closet.

  "I can't say I'm looking forward to spending the evening with her," Gumm said. "I doubt she'll talk about anything but booties and baby formula."