To Save His Baby

by Judi Lind

  “Me, too.”

  Fists clenched tightly at her sides, she crossed the narrow space between them. Unfurling her taut fingertips, she reached to smooth an outlaw strand of hair that was always falling into his eyes. “Can we start over? Now?”

  A deep sigh shuddered through him as he pulled her down onto the bed and gathered her into his arms.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk about Sid Weingold. I do admire you for being so loyal. I’m just a little jealous, I guess.”

  Sid? What did Sid have to do with any of this?

  “Even if I’d known about his fight with Monica,” Gil went on, “it wouldn’t have made much difference. I mean, I was already suspicious of the guy. Besides, that wasn’t any real proof, just more circumstantial evidence.”

  “You...you’re talking about their fight in the nursery?”

  “Of course.” He frowned at her. “You must be tired. What did you think we were talking about?”

  Now! Now was the time.

  But she couldn’t speak. He’d been so enraged over a simple oversight. If she revealed that she’d been deliberately concealing information that would affect the rest of his life...well, she wouldn’t be surprised if he walked off and never spoke to her again.

  That wasn’t true, she immediately refuted. He’d talk. He’d be polite and so very, very cold when he inquired about her plans for the baby. Knowing Gil and his strong sense of duty, he would always be a part of their child’s life. Would acknowledge his familial and financial responsibility. But would she be included in his life?

  Not likely.

  Unless...

  He was too overwrought right now. The pressure of this case had been building within him and threatening to burst for months. It would be insensitive to add to his burden right now.

  If, however, she could help him gather enough evidence for an indictment, even at the price of Sid Weingold’s freedom, then he’d have to listen to her. He’d have to understand that circumstances forced her to keep her secret.

  Yes, once the pressure of this case eased, he’d be more willing to listen to reason.

  Relief poured over her. She didn’t have to tell him today. For at least another twenty-four-hour period she could go on pretending that all was right with her world.

  “Valerie? Is everything okay? You’re very quiet.”

  “I’m fine.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak. Stressed to its limit.

  “Oh, Val,” he groaned taking her into his arms, pressing his lips against her hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up like that. It...it’s just that I hated thinking you’d deliberately held back vital information. To protect Sid Weingold.”

  She raised her head from his shoulders, her eyes starred with tears. “I’d never do that, Gil. The incident was so long ago and seemed so unimportant, that I truly just plain forgot to mention it to you.”

  He propped extra pillows behind them and nestled her into the crook of his shoulder. “Let’s just forget the whole thing. I won’t mention it again. Promise.”

  “It’s okay, Gil. Really. Right now, the important thing is closing down this kidnapping ring. We need to concentrate on getting enough evidence to convict them.”

  “Convict!” he snorted. “We couldn’t even get a search warrant with as little hard evidence as we’ve got. Everything is circumstantial. But you’re right. We need to come up with a plan.”

  While relief and guilt waged a battle in her heart, Valerie wondered if their relationship was going to be a casualty of her emotional war. How could a relationship built on a foundation of deceit ever survive? Ever grow into maturity?

  “A plan,” she repeated, determined to get her mind off the heavy burden she carried. Closing her eyes, she willed her mind to come up with a strategy, some way to garner the hard evidence that would stand up in court. And rebuild her own tarnished self-image.

  Since she knew nothing about real-life criminal procedure, she thought back over the hundreds of plots of her favorite mystery movies. Miss Marple would have called upon her experience in her tiny, but deadly, community of St. Mary Mead. But Valerie didn’t have any experience with cold-blooded criminals. Poirot, the intellectual, would have exercised the little gray cells, but her brain cells were apparently on vacation.

  Jessica Fletcher, the bane of Cabot Cove, Maine, never worried about accruing evidence. She always just set a trap. The killer would take the bait and, just before plugging Jessica, he’d brag about the details of his crime. Then, from their hiding place in the next room, the cops would spring forward and nab the blackguard before he could make good on his threat.

  “Too bad I’m not Jessica Fletcher,” she murmured.

  Gil stared at her blankly.

  She felt slightly chagrined by her half-joking suggestion, but plunged on. “I meant, just try and get him to confide in me, since he’s always seemed to trust me. Then we could just trick him into admitting the truth.”

  A slow smile began on Gil’s face that grew into a beaming grin. “That’s it!”

  “What?”

  “We’ll set a trap. You’re right, he does trust you. We’ll set something up in a public place, so you’ll be safe. I’ll stay hidden while you let it slip to Sidney that I have the evidence that will put him away.”

  “What evidence?”

  “How should I know?” He held out his hands, palms up. “Besides, it doesn’t matter.”

  Valerie sat upright and stared at him in disbelief. “Evidence... doesn’t...matter?”

  “No. We’ll put a voice-activated recorder in your backpack. Since you’re a civilian, he can’t even plead entrapment if he says something incriminating. It’s a long shot, but right now, it’s the only shot we have.”

  “But what will I say to him? I don’t want to lie to a friend.”

  “Even if that friend is guilty of kidnapping and attempted murder?”

  She sighed. “Not if you put it that way. So how do I entice him to incriminate himself?”

  Gil tapped his chin while he thought through the scenario, trying to decide on an approach that would work with Sidney Weingold’s personality. “Tell him I’m ready to arrest him. Just say you’re letting him know because you think I’ve trumped up the evidence. I think he’s willing to believe the worst about me.”

  “And this is supposed to help? How?”

  “If he takes the bait he’ll either say something on tape that incriminates himself and the recorder will pick it up, or he’ll make a run for it. In which case, I’ll come out of hiding and nab him.”

  Lips compressed, she slowly shook his head. “You still won’t have any evidence.”

  “But he won’t know that! Then I’ll have something to work with when I interrogate him. If he runs, I can build a good bluff. Get him to confess.”

  “I don’t know....”

  He was starting to get irritated about her negativity. He wished he knew for certain if her unwillingness to get involved was based on her belief that the plan wouldn’t work, or if she was still harboring some soft feelings for Weingold. Without examining his own motives too closely, Gil was nonetheless aware that it was very important to him that Valerie side with him now. Stand by him. To draw out her motivation, he forced a joking tone. “Give me three good reasons why it won’t work.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Reason number one: This is real life, not a television show.”

  “Life imitates art. Happens all the time,” he retorted.

  “Reason number two: Someone could get hurt.”

  “That’s why you have to meet him in a public place.”

  “Reason number three: I, uh, can’t exactly think of a reason but I’m sure there are dozens if you give me a minute.”

  “Nope.” He jumped out of bed and reached for the telephone. “This is foolproof. Trust me.”

  She threw up her hands in surrender. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. How about if I meet him at the hospital cafeteria? That’s fairly public and he s
hould feel comfortable enough in a familiar environment to take the bait.”

  “Good idea.” He handed her the cell phone. “But how are we going to reach him? My men are watching the hospital and his house, but he hasn’t shown up.”

  Valerie dug through her backpack for her address book. “I have his beeper number. Maybe he’ll answer my page.”

  She punched in his number. “I hope this works,” she said, still obviously uncomfortable about tricking a friend.

  Gil had no doubt Weingold would return the call; he’d seen the adoring way the man stared at Valerie. Well, after all this was over then she’d certainly see that her trust in the rich, handsome doctor had been misplaced.

  They didn’t have long to wait to find out if their ploy worked. Less than an hour later, the telephone rang, shattering the tense silence in the small motel room.

  Gil reached for the receiver, then stopped. “You’d better get it. In case it’s Weingold.”

  Nodding, she pushed a strand of hair from her eyes and stared at the ringing phone. Gil knew she was feeling lower than a snake’s belly for lying to her friend, but she had to get over it. Her so-called friends weren’t worth the powder it would take to blow themselves to hell.

  Finally, she picked up the phone on the fifth ring. “Dr. Murphy speaking. Oh, hi, Sid.”

  Gil gave a satisfied nod and leaned back against the headboard. His gut feeling had been right all along. Weingold and the nurse were in this together. What a cozy little game they’d worked out. Monica played the mature, caring counselor. Getting the confused young girls to pour their hearts out. Getting them to listen to her supposedly well-intentioned “advice.”

  Her real job, however, was to cull through the dozens of expectant mothers who came through the clinic until she found those select few who met their criteria. Then she would pour on her professional charm and coerce the young women into continuing their pregnancies to term. Convince them they were doing the right thing by keeping their babies, no matter what their social or economic circumstances.

  Then, shortly after the birth, she and her accomplice would arrange the kidnapping. Gil doubted the nurse and good doctor were personally involved in many of the actual kidnappings. Too risky. No doubt the hired hit man who’d stalked him in the hospital was dispatched to do their dirty work.

  Weingold’s job was handling the actual “adoption.” No doubt he submitted phony birth certificates to the state and collected the huge sums of money from the overjoyed, and unsuspecting, adoptive parents.

  A quick trip to the Cayman Islands to filter the money through his account there, and, presto, the deed was done. Without a trace of evidence that could be tracked back to the miscreants.

  Gil was brought back to the present when Valerie hung up the phone.

  Pale and shaking, she chewed on her lower lip in an obvious effort to stop the trembling. “Well, I guess that’s it, then. We’re meeting at the hospital cafeteria tonight between six and seven.”

  Valerie slowly dropped back onto the bed. From the troubled look on her face Gil knew she was still only half-convinced of Sid Weingold’s complicity in the kidnappings. She obviously felt like a louse for manipulating someone she’d always considered a friend.

  In an effort to cheer her up, Gil dropped on the opposite bed and smiled broadly. “Good job!” His delicate sensibilities weren’t beset with guilt over their charade. “You missed your calling, Doc. If you’d chosen acting, you’d have a mantle loaded with Oscars before you were through.”

  Her eyebrows dipped in chagrin. “Great. Wonderful. My folks will be so proud. Their daughter is an accomplished liar.”

  She wondered if Gil would be so impressed if he knew she was still lying to him—with every word she didn’t say.

  He moved over to sit beside her. “I know it’s hard when someone you trusted turns out to be a jerk. And, who knows? Maybe he’s innocent.”

  She knuckled away a tear. “No, he’s not. I’m convinced now.”

  “Why? What did he say?”

  “He seemed almost anxious to meet me,” she said “But that’s not the worst part. He was calling from Monica’s.”

  “What! He told you that?”

  Valerie nodded. “Didn’t even try to conceal it. No doubt she was listening to every word. I used to think he was one of the nicest, most ethical men I’d ever met. Boy, that sure says something about my ability to judge character.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. You had no way of knowing he was a psychopath.”

  She looked up and gave him a wry smile. “That’s funny. People use the term psychopath to describe any kind of mental disorder. Psychopathic killer, psychopathic liar. A true psychopath is exceedingly rare. They’re convinced they’re above the rules because they don’t have the same feelings as other people. They don’t, you know. They don’t share our emotional foundations. I think that’s how Sid was able to fool me and so many others for so long. So he must be a true psychopath.”

  Gil reached over and took her hand. It lay limply in his as she tried valiantly to stem the tears that shimmered in her blue eyes. “I’m really sorry, honey.”

  “Oh well,” she said in a show of false bravado, “he agreed to meet me as we planned. It should all be over tonight.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The cafeteria was less crowded than Gil had expected, so he hung back while Valerie grabbed an orange juice from an ice-packed bin and headed for the cashier.

  The food service was at the far end, and a conveyor belt for dirty dishware was at the opposite. The open middle space was freckled with oblong tables, sparsely occupied on this quiet Sunday evening.

  Valerie took a table in the center of the room and sat down facing the door. Glancing around for a location where he could remain concealed, while keeping Valerie in sight, Gil finally settled for a small table half-hidden by one of the four wide columns that supported the ceiling.

  She was about half-finished with her juice when the tall and too-damned-good-looking Sid Weingold entered the cafeteria. He cast an anxious glance around the room. Spying Val, he rushed to her table.

  Gil did a double take. The doctor’s tanned face was wan, and his thick hair was no longer stylishly coiffed but sticking up at odd angles as if he hadn’t combed it since he’d gotten out of bed. Gil smiled in satisfaction; the doctor was definitely rattled.

  Valerie and Weingold were too far away for Gil to overhear their conversation, but foreseeing such a possibility, they had rehearsed simple signals to convey necessary information. She drained her plastic juice glass and rubbed the tip of her nose with her index finger—the sign that everything was under control.

  Weingold leaned across the table, speaking earnestly. Pushing her empty container aside, Valerie leaned forward, too, as if she didn’t want to miss a single word.

  Sensing that they’d be engaged in their intense conversation for a while, Gil allowed his gaze to stray. Even on a peaceful Sunday night, there was still something forebidding about the hospital environment, he thought. Red-eyed visitors sipped their coffee, their fearful gazes darting constantly to the entrance as if they expected every newcomer to be the bearer of bad tidings.

  Gil’s eyes followed their gazes to the entrance and he jumped in surprise.

  Monica Giesen, flanked by two white-coated men, stepped through the double doors. He gave her companions scant attention, his focus being Monica. What was she doing here? She’d told Valerie that she was only coming into the clinic to finish some paperwork in the afternoon. Were she and Weingold planning a sinister surprise for Valerie?

  Laughing up at one of her companions, the coldly beautiful woman entered the cafeteria line. But not, Gil noticed, before she cast a hard glance in the general direction of the table where Valerie and Weingold were seated.

  What was she up to?

  Still laughing flirtatiously with her companions, Monica continued down the line, stopping for a yogurt and diet soda. When the threesome reached the cashier,
she reached into her purse. One of the men stayed her hand with his and paid for her purchases. Gil grinned wryly. Like a deadly black-widow spider, Monica knew how to lure men in and bind them tightly with her silken web.

  He realized with a jolt that sweet Valerie was no match for the ruthless nurse.

  He turned back to Val’s table to see how she was faring with Weingold.

  The empty juice carton lay on its side. Otherwise, the table was deserted.

  They were gone.

  His heart knocking in his chest like a frenzied drumbeat, he anxiously scanned the cafeteria. No sign of them. He jumped up to look around the column, knocking his chair over. The clatter drew the attention of the other patrons, including, he noted, Monica Giesen.

  Fine undercover operative he’d turned out to be. With a single motion he’d lost the subjects of his surveillance and managed to tip off one of the suspects to his presence.

  Thoroughly disgusted with his unprofessional behavior, he stalked toward the door.

  Where could they have gone? Why hadn’t Valerie gotten his attention, given him a sign before she allowed herself to be lured out of the safety of the public space?

  Because she trusted you were watching and would keep her safe.

  Reaching the deserted hallway outside the cafeteria, he glanced left and right. Then left again. Completely empty. No sign that anyone had passed this way.

  What did you expect? A trail of bread crumbs?

  Not knowing what other course to take, he headed toward the main lobby.

  Eight or ten people wandered about, none Valerie or her colleague. Where did they disappear to so quickly?

  The open area served as a hub, with five corridors angling away from the center like spokes on a wheel. They could have gone down any of those hallways, he reflected with a grim sense of foreboding. Or into the elevators. By now she could be anywhere in the vast hospital structure. And as far from his help as if she were stranded on the moon.