by Rita Herron
Anger churned through him at whomever had done this. He’d find the son of a bitch and make him sorry he ever touched Brianna or his son.
BRIANNA STARED AT THE BURNING SUV in shock. Metal and glass lay shattered on the asphalt and grass, embers of burning rubble lighting the ground like fireflies. The acrid scent of smoke and ashes thickened the air and created a blurry haze of gray against the sky.
Her stomach clenched. The past two days had been a virtual nightmare, and it seemed to be getting worse.
Ryan was still missing, they had no idea who had taken him, and the kidnapper was watching them—how else would he know that they’d been asking questions?
How else would he have known where she and Derrick were to plant that note and the bomb?
Other spectators had gathered to watch the firefighters hose down the vehicle, but she’d managed to convince the paramedics that she was unharmed so they’d retreated back inside the hospital.
Derrick approached her, the intense look in his eyes searing her. She folded her arms in an attempt to hold her emotions at bay, but Derrick’s gaze met hers, and she felt herself crumbling.
“Bri…” Giving her a dark look, he pulled her into his arms.
She shuddered against him. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered. “Why leave us a warning note when the kidnapper hasn’t contacted us before? When he hasn’t asked for money?”
He stroked her back in a comforting gesture and mumbled a soothing sound. She clutched his arms, burrowing against his warmth. “Because our asking questions is making him nervous.”
Inhaling deeply to battle an onset of tears, she contemplated his answer then looked up into his eyes. “Then he thinks we’re onto something?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Why else would he warn us to stop asking questions?”
Brianna scanned the parking lot, the handful of spectators who’d gathered to watch the scene, wondering if the man was here now.
“But if he’s watching us, where is Ryan?” The worst-case scenario flashed in her mind causing panic to claw at her chest.
Derrick’s jaw tightened. “The motel clerk said the kidnapper was with a woman. He probably left the baby with her. Either that, or he’s working with someone else.”
The sheriff’s car raced into the parking lot, siren wailing, and Derrick pulled away from her. “That’s Cramer. I’ll tell him what we found so far. Are you all right?”
She nodded, struggling for courage. How could she be all right knowing some maniac had tried to kill her? That he had Ryan?
That she might never see the little boy again?
DERRICK BRACED HIMSELF FOR another turf war over the investigation, but Cramer took one look at the charred piece of metal that used to be his SUV and hissed a breath. The deputy with him whistled as he spotted the scene, and Cramer ordered him to start stringing up crime scene tape to cordon off the area.
“Damn. This guy meant business,” Cramer muttered as he approached.
Derrick nodded. “We need CSI to find out what kind of bomb it was. Maybe we’ll luck out and get a print on one of the parts.” Too damn bad the note had been destroyed in the explosion.
“I’ll take care of it,” Cramer said. He glanced at Brianna. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “Yes, thanks to Derrick.”
Her gaze met his, and a seed of emotion sprouted in his chest. Emotions he didn’t want to feel for any woman, especially Brianna.
He still doubted if he would be a good father, but if Ryan was his son, he intended to fight for custody. That would mean going up against Brianna. And it was obvious she was already attached to the baby.
Cramer jerked his head to the messy scene. The last embers of the fire were dying, but the acrid smell of the burnt metal and smoke hung heavy in the air.
“What do you think precipitated this?” Cramer asked. “And what’s this about wanting Natalie’s body exhumed?”
Derrick glanced at Bri, then swallowed. “We have reason to suspect that Natalie might not have died of natural causes.”
“What makes you suspect foul play?”
“Natalie was acting strangely the night I drove her to the E.R.,” Brianna admitted. “I talked to some of the teachers at the high school where she taught, and two of them confirmed that she had been nervous.”
“About what?” Cramer inquired.
“Apparently Natalie heard about a meth lab the teens might be involved in. When she reported it to the principal, he warned her it was too dangerous for her to look into, but that he would,” Derrick said.
Brianna cleared her throat. “When we talked to him, he said he was investigating, but he seemed nervous, too. And apparently Natalie admitted to one of her friends that she was scared, that she was thinking of leaving town once her baby was born.”
Cramer shifted, removed a small notepad from his pocket, flipped it open and jotted something inside. “I don’t understand. What was she afraid of?”
“I’m not sure,” Brianna admitted. “But it had something to do with that meth lab and a club that had supposedly cropped up again.”
“One that was involved with some kind of explosion that happened eight years ago,” Derrick added.
Cramer frowned. “Eight years ago?”
“Yeah, I had left town for college by then. Do you remember what happened?”
Cramer glanced at the hospital. “There was an explosion at this very hospital back then. Dozens of people died, but the authorities never confirmed what happened or who created the mess.”
“Oh, I do remember that,” Brianna said.
“I was a senior at the time,” Cramer reflected. “I lost my grandmother in it. It was the worst thing that has ever happened in Sanctuary. It nearly tore the town apart.”
“Charlie’s dad, Billy Driscill, was sheriff back then, wasn’t he?” Derrick asked.
Cramer nodded. “He took a lot of heat for not solving the case. Finally ruled it accidental, but no one was satisfied with that answer.”
Derrick glanced at Brianna. “We need to talk to Billy Driscill.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with Natalie’s death or Ryan being kidnapped,” Brianna commented.
“Neither do I.” Derrick frowned. “But if Natalie found out who was responsible for the explosion, and that person is still in town, he sure as hell wouldn’t want the truth to be revealed.”
“He might even kill to keep it quiet,” Cramer guessed.
Brianna’s face paled, and Derrick reached out to steady her. Natalie might have stumbled onto a secret no one wanted told. And if this club was responsible, there was most likely more than one person who wanted to keep the truth hidden.
“We need to get Natalie’s body exhumed and do an autopsy,” Derrick reiterated.
A muscle ticked in Cramer’s jaw but he nodded. If the man had cared for Natalie, then he would want the truth, too. So finally they would be working on the same side.
Meanwhile he’d talk to Gage, see if he knew anything about the explosion that night or about this club.
If they could locate the club members, they might find the person who’d tried to run Natalie off the road.
And possibly the person who’d attacked Brianna, kidnapped Ryan and tried to kill them.
BRIANNA’S CHEST ACHED. BEAU was going to get a subpoena and have Natalie’s body exhumed. She hated to think that her friend’s grave would be disturbed, but if she had been murdered they needed to know.
Natalie deserved justice.
And why hadn’t the doctor ordered an autopsy before? That question had nagged at her ever since the funeral. But she’d been too grief stricken immediately following Natalie’s death—too preoccupied with making sure she got custody of Ryan and afraid someone would discover that she’d fudged papers—that she hadn’t thought to push for one. She’d simply accepted the doctor’s diagnosis.
Derrick gave her a concerned look, then spoke quietly to Beau and walked toward her. �
��Cramer’s deputy is canvassing the crowd to see if someone saw or heard anything suspicious. I called a cab and I’ll take you home.”
Home, back to that empty silent house, to the crib that no longer held Ryan, to the Christmas tree that reminded her of his stocking and the presents she’d bought. Presents he might never receive. “What about your SUV?” she asked.
“I’ve got insurance.”
She nodded and they walked up to the front of the hospital and met the cab.
“What do we do now?” she asked as the driver pulled from the parking lot.
“I’m going to call Gage and see what he knows about the explosion eight years ago. If this is connected, he might know who we should talk to.”
She rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes. She was three years younger than Derrick, and remembered that year. She’d been living at Magnolia Manor with the others who’d never been adopted.
A faint memory stirred. “I should have thought about that explosion before,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t see a connection.”
“What exactly do you recall?” Derrick asked.
She opened her eyes and frowned. “A lot of lost loved ones. A terrible sadness swept over Sanctuary. The mayor ordered the flag to be lowered to half mast, and then I heard gossip that the devil had come to town.”
Derrick grunted. “The devil?”
“People were looking for someone to blame,” she stated.
“What else do you remember?”
Her throat thickened. “One of the social workers who worked with Magnolia Manor coordinated adoptions for children placed at the Manor whose parents had died in the fire.”
“Why does that stand out?”
“When I wasn’t placed, she befriended me. She was the one who inspired me to pursue a similar career and work with adoptions.”
Derrick cut her a dark look, then reached out and squeezed her hand. “That must have been tough for you.”
“Yes, losing her was.”
“I meant not being adopted.”
Her old feelings of insecurities resurfaced. The feeling of abandonment. The sense that her mother hadn’t loved her enough to keep her, or to come back for her.
The nagging question that something must be wrong with her—why else would her own parents not want her?
“I survived,” she said, battling the emotions churning in her gut. She’d thought she’d put those feelings behind her.
And she had. Hadn’t she?
Ryan’s face flashed into her mind, and she bit her lip to keep from crying. They had to find Ryan. She couldn’t let him grow up thinking that she and Natalie and his father had abandoned him.
Chapter Ten
Derrick contemplated how to move forward with the investigation during the drive back to Brianna’s. The kidnapper had left a note on the car. Did that mean he intended to call with further instructions? That he planned to give Ryan back?
That he didn’t want money but for them to leave the investigation alone?
Hadn’t he known the kidnapping would raise questions?
Or maybe he’d planned to steal the baby, then kill Brianna and make her death look accidental or like natural causes as he had Natalie’s?
“I’m going to shower,” Brianna announced as they stepped inside her house. “I want to get rid of the stench of the smoke.”
Knowing they might have died earlier twisted his insides. He wanted to join her. Hold her. Assure her that he would protect her and find Ryan. Soothe her bruises. Kiss away her fear.
Take her to bed and remind himself that they were both alive.
Hell, he’d been shot before, had nearly lost his life a half dozen times. But Brianna was an innocent. And she looked shell-shocked.
But Ryan was missing, and he couldn’t afford to indulge his need for comfort—or his hunger for Brianna. Their probing into Natalie’s past had obviously hit a nerve with the kidnapper, and he had to discover the reason.
So he watched her climb the stairs alone.
Even if teens had started up a meth lab, would they kill Natalie and kidnap a baby to cover it up?
That idea seemed far-fetched.
Or had Natalie uncovered something about that hospital explosion? Something that might lead them to know who had caused it and destroyed all those lives?
He hated to disturb Gage on his second honeymoon, but Gage might have known about this club.
He punched in the number of Gage’s cell phone and studied baby Ryan’s photos on the table while he waited. The little boy’s chubby cheeks were rosy, his chin slightly square, his blond baby curls sending a pain through his chest.
Ryan had his square chin. His hair, although his own had darkened over the years, but as a baby it had been lighter than Ryan’s. Emotions threatened to overcome him, and moisture dampened his eyes.
He hadn’t cried in years. Not since the first of his father’s beatings. Hell, he’d grown immune to those and had refused to give his father the pleasure of showing any weakness.
But fear for his baby threatened to bring him to his knees.
“Where are you, son?” he whispered.
Suddenly the call went through. “Gage McDermont.”
“It’s Derrick. I’m sorry to bother you on vacation.”
“Don’t worry about it, man. I talked to Ben about the kidnapping. How’s the case going? Has Brianna received a ransom note or call?”
“No, not exactly.” Derrick quickly brought him up to speed on the investigation, including the recent note and car explosion, their suspicions about Natalie’s death possibly being a homicide, the questions they’d asked the doctor and what they’d learned at the school, then admitted his involvement with Natalie and his suspicions that Ryan was his son.
“God, Derrick, that must be hard as hell. Do you need me to come back and help you?”
“No. The team is good and I’m working with Cramer.” Derrick hesitated. “What do you think of him?”
“So far, I haven’t seen any problems. He seems bright, serious about this job. Why?”
Derrick sighed. “He was in love with Natalie.”
“I see. Well, just watch your back.”
“I will. Natalie seemed to think this lab might be related to the hospital explosion eight years ago. What do you know about that?”
A tense heartbeat of silence passed then Gage cleared his throat. “That was a bad night for a lot of reasons. A bunch of kids had a party and were passing around drugs.”
“What kind of drugs?”
“A date rape drug for one. And I do remember my adopted brother Jerry talking about meth. But he and I weren’t on good terms and I wanted nothing to do with it, so I didn’t ask. I’d tell you to talk to him but Jerry left town last year after Ruby’s kidnapping.”
“Who else might know? I need to find out who belonged to this club,” Derrick said. “If Natalie stumbled onto a lead into that hospital fire and the person who’d caused all those deaths is still in town, they might kill her to keep the truth from being revealed.”
“You’re right.” Gage muttered a low sound of frustration. “Talk to Charlie Driscill and Evan Rutherford. They were at the party and might know.”
Derrick gritted his teeth. “Charlie? He was acting sheriff after his dad retired and when Ruby was kidnapped last year, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, and he knew about the date rape drug. He helped me find Ruby, but then resigned, I think out of guilt.” Gage released a labored sigh. “I’m not sure how cooperative he’ll be, but since his father was sheriff back then, that would be the place to start.”
BRIANNA COULDN’T SHAKE THE images of the explosion from her mind as she showered and dressed. She tried to cover the bruises with powder, but her eyes looked haunted, her face gaunt. She threw down the makeup. She didn’t care what she looked like. All that mattered was finding the baby.
Had the person who’d set that bomb been standing by to watch? If he knew they’d survived, would he r
eturn to finish the job?
Had he hurt Ryan?
Her ribs were still sore, but she ignored the pain as she descended the steps. Derrick had apparently rummaged through her refrigerator and cupboards and made some sandwiches. He glanced up at her with a tight smile.
“Do you feel better?”
“I’m okay.”
He strode toward her, and rubbed her arms. “You keep saying that, but you don’t look okay, Bri.”
“How can I be?” she whispered. “If that man would kill us so coldly, what has he done to Ryan?”
Her voice cracked, and he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know, but that note makes me think he’s alive.”
His husky voice soothed her slightly, and she felt safe in his arms. Safe and cared for and tingly with the need to be closer to him. To have him kiss her and make her forget the horror that had become her life.
But Derrick was only being kind to her. He had loved Natalie.
And if they didn’t find Ryan safe and alive, he would blame her in the end just as she blamed herself.
She started to pull away, but he lifted her chin with the pad of his thumb and looked into her eyes. For a moment, she thought she detected something deeper than compassion blazing in his eyes, something akin to desire, as if he found her attractive.
As if he didn’t blame her for losing his son, as if he wanted her. Then he angled his head and pressed his lips over hers. Brianna sighed in contentment and allowed him to deepen the kiss.
But Derrick’s cell phone buzzed, jarring them both back to the situation. He released her and pulled the phone from the clip at his belt. “Sit down and eat something, Bri. You need to keep up your energy.”
Her stomach rumbled, but she wasn’t hungry. Still, on rote, she forced down a few bites of the sandwich while he connected the call.
“Yeah. Good. Thanks, Sheriff.” He snapped the phone shut, then joined her at the table as if the kiss had never happened. “That was Cramer. He’s gotten the go ahead to have Natalie’s body exhumed for an autopsy.”
Brianna dropped the sandwich on the plate. “I hate to do that, but I guess it’s necessary.”