The Cop's Missing Child

by Karen Whiddon

  “Will you inform Joe of the results?” Mac asked, keeping his voice steady. “Even though it’s likely he’ll be transferred to the county jail?”

  “Of course. I can visit him there.” A shadow crossed Renee’s face. “I have to say that I was surprised. I had no idea he was involved in any of this.”

  “Me, either,” Mac said grimly.

  “You lost a friend.”

  “No, I learned the man I’d thought of as a brother was a backstabbing, wife-stealing liar.” Aware of the bleakness of his tone, Mac looked away, lost in thought.

  He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d really known Sarah at all. She’d been nearly full-term when she’d lost her life in that accident, all the while maintaining that she and Mac were the parents. He wondered how long she would have kept up the farce. Had she truly known which man actually was the baby’s father, or had she only suspected? That was one question to which he’d never know the answer.

  As Mac turned to go, Emily voiced what they both feared. “What if Ryan really is Joe’s son?”

  Renee shrugged, looking at Mac.

  He squeezed Emily’s shoulder, glad of an excuse to touch her. “We’ll deal with that when we come to it.”

  Though she nodded, he could tell from her downcast eyes and closed off expression that the idea troubled her greatly.

  It worried him, too. But he refused to let the outcome of the DNA test affect the plans he’d made for the rest of his life—plans that, no matter what, included Emily and Ryan.

  * * *

  The next three days passed in a blur. Emily kept busy. In fact, Jayne and Tina told her she seemed positively driven. She worked hard, kept busy and managed to avoid Mac, though doing so was easy since he appeared to be also avoiding her. She couldn’t exactly blame him. Still...

  She didn’t know what she would do if the DNA test revealed that Joe was Ryan’s father. She prayed it would be Mac. Thinking how things had changed almost made her smile. A few days ago, she would never have believed she’d be hoping Mac would have a connection to her son.

  Her doorbell chimed, making her jump. As if her thoughts had summoned him, Mac stood on the front porch, wearing his uniform and looking impossibly handsome.

  Glad Ryan was still at school, her traitorous heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Even now, even after knowing he’d played on her attraction to him and used her to get closer to Ryan, she still wanted him.

  Schooling her expression into a bland, pleasant look, she opened the door. “Hey.”

  His gaze raked over her, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. “Do you have a minute?”

  Slowly, she nodded, struck dumb by the power of her own foolish need. Blood humming in her ears, she stepped aside, indicating he could follow.

  As he moved past her so she could close the door behind him, she couldn’t help flashing back to when she’d been locked in his embrace. She shook her head to dispel the disturbingly carnal images. Even now she wished things had been different.

  She’d actually allowed herself to believe in a future. That was progress, was it not? Progress. Right...when she couldn’t even perceive of a future without him. It was more of a step back than anything else.

  She loved him. The power of that knowledge made her wince. She couldn’t let him know. To protect herself, she knew she’d need to call on any shred of latent acting ability she might have in order to talk to him as if what he’d done, what they’d shared, hadn’t mattered.

  “What’s up?” she asked Mac, perching on the edge of the couch as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Her voice sounded serene and steady, even though her insides were quaking.

  “I came to apologize,” he told her, a ghost of a smile flitting across his handsome features. “I know to you it seemed like I tried to get close to you because of Ryan, and maybe in the beginning, that’s all it was. But something changed.”

  Keeping an iron grip on her emotions, she waved his words away. “No worries,” she said brightly. “I don’t have any hard feelings against you.”

  His expression darkened. “You might be listening, but you’re not hearing what I’m trying to tell you. This is important, Emily. To both of us.”

  “To both of us?” she echoed, surprised by the flash of anger she felt. Suddenly, she’d had enough of pretending. “Is it? So I’m supposed to sit here and let you say whatever you feel you have to in order to salve your conscience?”

  Shaking his head, his brittle smile softened. “That’s not why I’m here. Yes, you deserve an apology—actually, you deserve so much more.”

  Inwardly, she cringed. “I don’t—”

  “Let me finish.” He came closer, stopping within touching distance. “Something started between us...something with potential. I didn’t intend for that to happen, but—”

  Horrified, she cut him off. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “This is not about pity,” he growled, grabbing her and pulling her into the crush of his embrace. Stunned by the instant desire warring with fury, she stiffened rather than struggled, fighting against her instinctive response.

  “Let me go,” she said, barely getting the words out before he covered her mouth with his own.

  Her resolve shattered with his kiss. Hunger, passion and more blazed to life, and she clung to him, dizzy and trembling and full of need.

  When he finally raised his mouth from hers, his impossibly blue eyes blazing, she couldn’t make herself pull away. There was an implicit claim in his embrace. daring her to deny what had sparked to life.

  “This,” he said quietly, nose to nose. “We have the potential of something special between us. You see it. I know you do. No matter what happens with the DNA test.”

  She couldn’t answer, couldn’t allow herself to hope, couldn’t even begin to find the words. Forcing herself to look away from him so he wouldn’t see the truth in her gaze, a movement out the front window caught her eye.

  “Look,” she gasped, moving away to stare at the sheriff’s cruiser pulling into her drive.

  “Renee.” He sounded as worried as she. “The DNA test results must have come back already.”

  Heart racing, Emily nodded. As she moved toward the door, he touched her shoulder, stopping her.

  “Promise me you’ll think about it,” he said, letting her see the hope that shone fierce from his blue eyes.

  Giving the barest of nods, she answered. They went to the door together, standing side by side, arms touching.

  Renee glanced from one to the other but didn’t speak as she held out the results.

  Emily accepted the tan envelope from the other woman, amazed that her fingers didn’t shake.

  Again, Renee’s sharp gaze swept from Mac to Emily and back again. “Is everything okay?”

  Numb, Emily nodded. Mac did the same.

  “Then, I’ll leave you two alone,” Renee said, turning and marching down the sidewalk. She got back into her car and drove off.

  Once her car had disappeared from view, Mac took Emily’s left hand and led her inside. Fingers still locked with hers, he closed the door and locked it. Though she wanted to let herself relax into his touch, she couldn’t.

  Jittery, jumpy, she fingered the envelope, wondering why she felt so reluctant to finally learn the truth.

  As if he sensed this, he squeezed her hand, his fingers gentle and warm. “Do you mind waiting to open it? I’d like to settle things between us first.”

  Hesitating, fighting the urge to let herself lean into him for comfort, she decided to go ahead and speak the truth. “I’m not sure we have anything to settle.”

  “But we do.” He took a deep breath, studying her intently. “I want you to know this. If Joe is the biological father, I’ll help you fight any attempt he might make to gain custody.”

  At first she couldn’t quite process his words. When she finally did, she supposed they made a twisted kind of sense. “Why? Because you want to get him back for sleeping with your wife?�
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  “No.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “For the same reason as before when I told you if I was the father, I wouldn’t try to take your son from you. Because I want what’s best for Ryan. Staying with you would be the best for him.”

  Staring at him, she saw the truth of his words in his face. “You honestly mean that, don’t you?” she asked with a dawning sense of wonder. “No matter what the outcome of the DNA test, you truly care about my son.”

  “And about you,” he put in quietly. “I know it’s early and we’re barely getting to know each other, but there’s something there. Tell me you feel it, too.”

  The tenderness in his gaze made her knees weak. Tongue-tied and feeling warm, she couldn’t speak so she nodded instead.

  “This is your choice,” he continued, the intensity in his voice telling her he meant what he said. “If you’d like to try—to give us a try—let me know. If not, tell me that instead and I’ll back off. Either way, I’ll respect your wishes.”

  He sounded so formal, so endearingly old-fashioned. His nearness, overwhelming and familiar at once, made her giddy. “I’d like to try.”

  The warmth of his smile felt like a reward. “I’m glad,” he told her. He moved in close as though he meant to kiss her, but she held the envelope up like a flag.

  Stopping in his tracks, he eyed her.

  “Are you ready?” she asked, only the faintest quiver in her voice.

  Despite the muscle clenching in his jaw, he nodded. “I guess so. Go ahead and open it.”

  Then it all came down to this. This moment, whatever was written on a small piece of paper, had the life-shattering capacity to change her world—their world.

  Staring at the sealed envelope, heartbeat drumming in her ears, Emily finally shook her head. “I can’t....” She shoved the results at him. “Here, you should be the one to open it.”

  To her surprise, though he held out his hand and accepted the envelope from her, he appeared reluctant. His blue eyes, full of trepidation, met hers before he nodded.

  “Let’s go into the kitchen,” he said.

  Emily followed him, the knot in her throat growing as he tore it open and extracted a piece of paper. As he began to read silently, his eyes narrowed, but otherwise his expression gave nothing away.

  “Well?” she asked anxiously, reaching for the solid strength of his arm, unable to help herself. “What does it say?”

  A cry of relief broke from his lips. “I’m the father. Ryan is my son.”

  Then, while Emily stood frozen, excitement and relief and fear all warring inside her, he swept her into his arms.

  As he held her, a warm glow of peace and satisfaction came over her. His shoulders shook, and still he clung to her, obviously in the grip of strong emotion. With his hands locked behind her back, she held on, honored that he’d chosen to share this moment with her.

  Finally, he raised his head. “Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I meant what I said before. I won’t take him away from you. But I’d still like to be part of yours and Ryan’s life,” he began, his deep voice simmering with emotion.

  Inside her, everything stilled. She had to know, she had to be sure. “Ryan will like that,” she said, watching him, aware her heart shone in her eyes.

  Taking a step closer, his eyes blazed with emotion. “What about you?” he asked. “Would you like that, too? Because Emily, I want to be with you and Ryan both—not one without the other.”

  A tentative happiness blossomed to life. “Are you sure?” she asked softly.

  Crossing the room in three swift strides, he swept her into his arms and kissed her again. “Very sure.”

  Neither spoke for a long time after that.

  * * * * *

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  Chapter 1

  The Wyoming woods atop the tall mountains that cradled the town of Cold Plains were just beginning to take on a fall cast of color. This worked perfectly with the camouflage long-sleeved T-shirt and pants that Micah Grayson wore as he made his way through the thick brush and trees.

  Although a gun holster rode his shoulder, he held his gun tight in his hand. Despite the fact that he had only been hiding out in the mountainous woods for two days and nights, he’d quickly learned that danger could come in the blink of an eye, a danger that might require the quick tic of his index finger on the trigger.

  Twilight had long ago fallen but a near-full moon overhead worked as an additional enemy when it came to using the shield of darkness for cover.

  As an ex-mercenary, Micah knew how to learn the terrain and use the weather to his advantage. He knew how to keep the reflection of the moonlight off his skin so as not to alert anyone to his presence. He could move through a bed of dry leaves and not make a sound. He could be wearing a black suit in a snowstorm and still figure out a way to become invisible.

  The first twenty-four hours that he’d been in the woods he’d learned natural landmarks, studied pitfalls and figured out places he thought would make good hidey-holes if needed. He’d also come face-to-face with a moose, heard the distant call of a wolf and seen several elk and deer.

  He now moved with the stealth of a big cat toward the rocky cliff he’d discovered the night before. As he crept low and light on his feet, he kept alert, his ears open for any alien sound that might not belong to the forest.

  Despite the relative coolness of the night, a trickle of sweat trekked down the center of his back. During his thirty-eight years of life, Micah had faced a thousand life-threatening situations, the latest of which had been a bullet to his head that had sent him into a coma for months.

  When he finally reached the rocky bluff he looked down at the lights dotting the little valley, the lights of the small town of Cold Plains, Wyoming. His brother Samuel’s town. Micah reached up and touched the scar, now barely discernible through his thick dark hair on the left side of his head, the place where Samuel’s henchman, Dax Roberts, had shot him while Micah had sat in his car. Dax had left him for dead.

  Fortunately for Micah he hadn’t died, but had come out of a three-month coma with the fierce, driving need for revenge against the fraternal twin he’d always somehow known was a dangerous, narcissistic sociopath.

  Unfortunately, Samuel was also charming and slick and powerful, making him a natural leader that people wanted to follow.

  Five months ago Micah had been sitting in a small-town Kansas coffee shop where he’d landed after his last mission for a little downtime when he’d seen a face almost identical to his own flash across the television mounted to the wall.

  Stunned, he’d watched a news story unfold that told him his brother Samuel was being questioned by the FBI and local police in connection with the murders of five women found all across Wyoming. All the women had one thing in common: Cold Plains, the town where his wealthy, motivational-speaker brother wielded unbelievable influence and power.

&
nbsp; Micah had immediately contacted the FBI and been put in touch with an agent named Hawk Bledsoe. The two had made arrangements to meet the next day but, before Micah could make that meeting, he’d caught the bullet to his head.

  He’d been in the coma for ninety-three long days and it had taken him another two months to feel up to the task he knew he had to do—take out Samuel before he could destroy any more people and lives.

  Which was why he’d spent these last two days and nights in the woods adjacent to Cold Plains.

  Minutes before he’d made his way to the bluff, he’d met with his FBI contact, Hawk. Hawk had grown up in Cold Plains and after years of being away from his hometown had returned to discover that the rough-around-the-edges place where he’d grown up as son of the town drunk had transformed into something eerily perfect. A town run by a group of people who others referred to under their breaths as the Devotees and their leader, the movie-star handsome, but frightening and dangerous Samuel Grayson.

  For the past two nights Micah and Hawk had met at dusk in the woods so Hawk could keep Micah apprised of what was going on in town and how the FBI investigation into Samuel’s misdeeds was progressing.

  As he thought about everything Hawk had shared with him over the last two days, a dull throb began at the scar in the side of his head. He drew in several deep, long breaths, attempting to will away one of the killer migraines that the bullet had left behind.

  He turned and started off the bluff, deciding to make his way down the mountain, closer to town. The only time he dared to do a little reconnaissance of the layout of the town was at night. He knew that if anyone caught sight of him it would be reported back to Samuel, and the last thing Micah wanted Samuel to know was that he was not only still alive but he was also here and working with the FBI to bring him down.

  As always, he moved silently, knowing that the woods held many secrets. Just the night before, he’d stumbled upon two women amid the brush and trees. Darcy Craven had fainted at the sight of him, assuming he was his brother, but the woman with her, June Farrow, had recognized that he wasn’t Samuel and had taken him to the safe house located in an area called Hidden Valley.