by Rita Herron
Would they hold him and comfort him when he cried?
“Did Irkman ever marry?” Derrick asked.
Brianna forced herself to focus although the thought of Ryan crying for her made her sick inside. “No.”
“Do you remember any of his friends?”
“No,” Brianna answered. “Between working as a cashier at the grocery store and taking care of the younger kids at Magnolia Manor, I was too busy to have a lot of friends.”
Derrick’s jaw tightened. “You were saving money for college?”
Memories of wondering if she’d ever make it to college surfaced, along with her own bitterness over being abandoned. A bitterness she’d struggled to put behind her. A bitterness which had helped her understand other children and drove her to help them.
“I had to,” she murmured. “I didn’t want to end up in a dead-end job like…my mother.” Or turning to hooking and drugs as she had.
No, she would never have done that.
And she would never have abandoned a child.
Derrick gave her an odd look, and she clamped her lip with her teeth. She’d never shared her feelings with anyone but Natalie. Telling Derrick made her feel vulnerable.
Wilbur’s subdivision appeared in her vision, and Derrick turned onto the street. The houses had been built over fifty years ago, and were a mixture of brick ranches and split-levels. Wilbur lived in a red split-level with a barn-like roof.
The house badly needed paint, and a rusted sedan sat under a carport. Snow weighed down the branches of the trees and covered the roof. The only Christmas decorations in sight consisted of a red bow on the mailbox and a lopsided wreath on the front door. No twinkling lights, and from the front window, no evidence of a tree.
Derrick parked behind the sedan and they rushed through the cold to the front door. Brianna paced while Derrick punched the doorbell. She silently prayed Wilbur was home and had some answers that would lead them to Ryan.
She wanted the baby home for the holidays, to see his little eyes brighten as he watched the Christmas tree lights dance in the room.
She wanted to hold him and love him and never let him go.
The door opened, and a frail-looking woman in a tattered housecoat leaned against the doorjamb. Her graying hair was thinning, her pallor a chalky white, her slight frame trembling as if she was barely hanging on to life.
“Mrs. Irkman,” Derrick began. “My name is Derrick McKinney with Guardian Angel Investigations and this is Brianna Honeycutt.”
Her brown eyes pierced Brianna. “You the one with the kidnapped baby?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brianna answered gently. “We need to talk to your son Wilbur.”
“Wilbur ain’t here,” she said, then broke into a cough.
Derrick jammed his hands in his pockets. “May we come in, ma’am? I’d like to ask you some questions.”
Suspicion laced her eyes. “What about?”
“We know that Wilbur hung around with Harry Wiggins in high school. Were they still friends?” Derrick asked.
“How can they be friends when Harry is dead?”
“I meant in the last few years,” Derrick clarified.
“Harry never came around,” she said sharply. “And rightly so. That boy kidnapped Ruby Holden last year.” As if she suddenly realized the connection they might have seen, she clacked her teeth. “My son don’t know anything about your baby being missing.”
“Where is he now?” Derrick inquired.
“Out of town on business. Had to go up to the Research Triangle Park.”
Derrick folded his arms. “When will he be back?”
She frowned. “Tomorrow. I got a doctor’s appointment, and he promised to take me.” Her look softened. “That boy has been good to me. He moved back to take care of me, you know.”
“That’s nice of him,” Brianna told her, sympathy welling in her chest. Still, if Wilbur had had something to do with that explosion or Ryan being kidnapped, they had to know.
“Let me ask you one more thing,” Derrick prodded. “Eight years ago, some boys around here had a club. We think they started a meth lab below the hospital and that it exploded and caused that hospital fire.”
Mrs. Irkman’s eyes widened in her gaunt face. “What are you saying? That my boy was involved with that?”
“Was he?” Derrick asked.
“Of course not. Wilbur was valedictorian. He went to UNC, and he’s got a fine job now. He was not into drugs back then or now.”
“Mrs. Irkman,” Brianna interjected, reaching out to calm her.
But the older woman shook her hand off and reached for the door. “Get out of here, Mr. McKinney, and don’t you bother to come back.”
Brianna jumped back and Derrick glowered at the woman as she slammed the door in their face.
Brianna hugged her arms around her middle as they rushed back to the car. Mrs. Irkman might be seriously ill, but she had enough strength to slam her door. Was her anger a normal parental protective response, or was she hiding something?
DERRICK’S PHONE VIBRATED AS HE started the engine and pulled away from the Irkman house. He quickly glanced at the number. Ben, GAI.
Maybe they had a lead from the Amber Alert.
Hissing out a breath, he connected the call. “McKinney speaking.”
“Derrick, I have news.”
“You found Ryan?”
“No, man, I’m sorry. Not yet.”
Disappointment ballooned in his chest. “Then what is it?”
Ben cleared his throat. “The results of the paternity tests are in.”
Chapter Twelve
Derrick held his breath as he maneuvered the turn, his pulse pounding as he waited on the answer to the paternity test. He’d already begun to think of Ryan as his son. Yet he had no idea how to be a father.
And if Ryan wasn’t his, then he’d have no ties. No ties to the child or Brianna.
His chest throbbed at the thought.
“Derrick, are you there?” Ben asked.
Derrick scrubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah. What are the results?”
“You are Ryan’s father, Derrick. There’s no doubt.”
The air left Derrick’s lungs in a mad rush. The image of the little blond baby in the photos at Brianna’s house flashed into his mind. Ryan was his son.
Yet he hadn’t been there for his birth, hadn’t held him once.
He had to get him back. Had to make it up to him.
“Thanks,” he managed to say on a choked breath.
“No problem. I’ll keep you posted if we get a lead.” The line went dead, and Derrick snapped his phone closed.
“Was that news about Ryan?” Brianna asked, an edge of hope amid desperation in her voice.
He gave a clipped nod. “Yes. But no lead on the kidnapper or his location.”
“Then what?”
He wasn’t sure how Brianna was going to react.
“The results of the paternity test came in.”
Brianna twisted her hands together. “Ryan is yours, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Derrick gritted his teeth. “You knew all along that Natalie had lied to me, didn’t you?”
She shook her head. “She lied to me, too, Derrick.”
“But you suspected the truth?”
“Only when I saw him. There was something about his eyes and his hair that made me wonder.”
Anger and hurt suffused him, and he steered the car to a clearing by the river and screeched to a stop. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Because you didn’t think I was father material?”
BRIANNA FLINCHED AT THE ANGER lacing Derrick’s tone.
““Why didn’t you tell me?” He gripped her arms. “Because of my reputation years ago? Or you heard about the case I screwed up and didn’t think I deserved a son?”
“What?” Brianna’s eyes widened. “No, Derrick. I never meant to keep the truth from you. I was only trying to do what Natalie asked of me. I had to keep my promise to her, a
nd then…”
“Then what?” he asked harshly.
“And then I fell in love with Ryan.” And she hadn’t wanted to lose him.
Shame filled her along with regret and fear. Judging from the anguish on Derrick’s face, she’d hurt him. Because she’d been selfish and had worried that he’d want to take Ryan away from her.
He released her abruptly, then pressed both of his hands over his face and inhaled sharply. “God…I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t deserve a son.”
Brianna’s heart clenched. “That’s not true, Derrick. And that’s not the reason I didn’t contact you. I honestly didn’t know Ryan was yours. In fact, I hoped he wasn’t.”
A cold rage seared his eyes as he looked back at her. “I see. Then I was right. You didn’t think I would make a good father. I let one child die and you didn’t trust me with Ryan.”
Brianna reached for his arm. She had to convince him that wasn’t true. But how could she without revealing the entire truth, that she’d fudged papers to make sure Ryan was hers legally. And if that reality aired, she’d not only lose Ryan but she’d lose her job.
“You keep talking about that last case.” Brianna recognized the guilt that was eating him alive. “What happened?”
He virtually shut down in front of her, the pain in his eyes turning cold, his body becoming rigid. “I trusted the wrong person, the mother,” he said bluntly.
Without another word, he started the engine and sped back onto the highway, his words echoing in her ears. He’d trusted the wrong person, the mother.
But that mother had obviously lied to him.
And he’d trusted that Natalie would’ve told him about his son and she’d lied, too.
No wonder he was enraged at Natalie and her. And if he discovered that she’d fudged those papers, he’d hate her.
She twisted her fingers together, her heart pounding. She didn’t want to lose Ryan.
But she didn’t want Derrick to hate her, either.
“Derrick—”
“Don’t say anything else, Brianna,” he muttered. “I have to focus on finding Ryan. I won’t let the same thing that happened to that other child happen to my son.”
DERRICK CLAMPED HIS MOUTH shut, self-recriminations echoing in his head. His bad-boy reputation in high school had been infamous. He’d carried a weight of anger around with him, anger that had landed him in trouble.
Anger at his father for the beatings and for making him feel worthless as hell.
When his old man had drunk himself into the grave, and he’d left Sanctuary, he’d tried to channel that anger into saving innocent victims.
And then that child’s death…
How could he blame Brianna and Natalie for not trusting him with his son? Everyone in town knew his father’s reputation. They might have feared he’d be like his old man.
But he would prove them wrong. If—no, when—he got Ryan back, he would never harm a hair on his kid’s head.
His phone buzzed, slicing through the tension-laden air. Hoping for a lead, he connected the call.
“Mr. McKinney?”
“Yes?”
“This is Evan Rutherford, the coach at the high school. I heard you were looking into a possible meth lab run by some teenagers.”
Derrick shifted, focused now. “Yes. Do you know something that could help?”
“I’m not trying to pin it on anyone, but there’s a kid who might have some information.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ace Atkins, he lives over at Magnolia Manor. He’s a real tough guy with a chip on his shoulder a mile high.”
“What makes you think he might be involved?”
“I don’t know for sure. Just a hunch. The crowd he hangs with is rough.”
Derrick gritted his teeth. He had a kinship with the kid. He’d hung with the wrong crowd in school, too. And he’d caught the brunt of the suspicions any time trouble occurred in town, guilty or not. “Thanks. I’ll have a talk with him.”
Rutherford started to hang up, but Derrick caught him. “Listen, Rutherford. You were in the same class as Harry Wiggins, Gage McDermont and Charlie Driscill.” He went on to describe his suspicions about the hospital explosion. “Charlie said that Harry brought the drugs and told me to talk to Wilbur Irkman, that he might have known about a meth lab back then. Can you fill in any of the blanks?”
A moment of silence, then Evan cleared his throat. “I do remember those science geeks. Irkman hung out with another guy named Mark Larimer. I think he’s a nurse at the local hospital now.”
“Thanks. I’ll check into Larimer. And if you hear anything else around the school, let me know.”
Evan agreed, and Derrick disconnected the call.
“What was that about?” Brianna asked.
“We’re going to Magnolia Manor to talk to a kid Evan Rutherford said might know something about the meth lab.”
“Who?” Brianna asked.
“A kid named Ace.”
Brianna sighed. “He has been trouble.”
They fell into a strained silence as he steered the car toward the orphanage where Brianna had grown up.
Ten minutes later, they parked at the two-story Victorian house. Brianna seemed quiet, almost withdrawn as they entered, and he regretted his earlier outburst. Had he frightened her when he’d grabbed her arms?
A young woman in her early thirties greeted Brianna with a smile, her demeanor indicating they’d met before. “Bri, I’m so sorry to hear about Ryan. Is there any word?”
“That’s why we’re here, Rachel.” She introduced her to Derrick, saying that Rachel was a counselor at the manor. Derrick let her take the lead and explain why they were there.
Meanwhile he studied the house. A Christmas tree had been decorated in the den with presents already wrapped beneath, a garland was strung along the staircase, wreaths on the walls. Upstairs he heard voices and laughter, and the scent of homemade cookies filled the air.
It seemed more like a home than an orphanage, and had obviously been renovated inside and out. From the stories he’d heard when he was young, it hadn’t always been a nice place to live.
Brianna sighed. “We think this meth lab might be connected to one eight years ago that caused a terrible explosion in town.”
Rachel’s green eyes flickered with worry. “Bri, I know Ace has an attitude, but I don’t think he’s involved with drugs. I’ve been counseling him for the past few months, and he seems clean.”
“Even so, he might know something,” Derrick said. “Is he here?”
“No, he goes by the community center to play basketball after school. He should be there now.”
Derrick turned to Brianna. “You can stay here if you want, but I’m going to talk to him.”
Brianna shook her head. “No, I want to be there.”
He frowned at her tone, wondering if she didn’t trust him with the young man. What did she think he would do—try to beat the truth out of him?
Fresh snowflakes fluttered to the ground as they rode in silence to the community center. “When did they build this?” Derrick asked as they walked up the sidewalk to the entrance.
“About five years ago,” Brianna said. “I think the community needed it. They have a gym, workout room, rec room with big screen TVs, Ping-Pong tables and other games as well as a concession stand. Volunteers from the town help man it so they can keep it open on weekend nights for kids to hang out.”
He nodded, wondering if he’d had a place like this as a teen if he would have taken advantage of it. Doing so might have kept him out of trouble.
Contemporary funky furniture created cozy nooks for hanging out. Several kids were seated on cushions watching movies while others played video games. Another group of middle schoolers were playing Twister while a corner held instruments for the kids to jam.
“The gym is this way,” Brianna said and led him through a set of double doors down a hall to the gym. A dozen or so boys were playing bask
etball, while a small group of girls watched with starry eyes.
“Ace Atkins,” Derrick called out.
A black-haired muscular kid who’d been dribbling the ball paused and looked at him. “Who’s asking?”
Brianna touched Derrick’s arm, signaling for him to let her speak up. “Ace, may we talk to you, please? It’s important.”
Ace stared at her for a long minute, then nodded and passed the ball to another boy. The game continued as he strode toward them, his tough-boy attitude evident in his eyes.
He crossed his arms, automatically defensive as he met them by the stands. “What’s up?”
“Ace, you heard about the baby I adopted being kidnapped?”
He shifted, then picked at something on his athletic shorts. “Yeah. But I ain’t got nothin’ to do with that.”
“I’m not saying you did,” Brianna spoke softly. “But this is the baby’s father, Derrick McKinney. He’s also working with Guardian Angel Investigations and the sheriff to help me find Ryan.”
Ace shrugged, his gaze full of distrust as he glanced at Derrick. Derrick understood too well his reaction. He’d been on the other end of this sort of conversation years ago. Once he’d earned a bad reputation, the teachers and authorities had tried to pin any vandalism or petty crime on him.
“Look, Ace,” Derrick cut in. “We have reason to believe that the baby’s mother, Ms. Cummings who taught at your school, might have uncovered a meth lab nearby. Do you know anything about it?”
Ace cursed. “Just ’cause I live at the manor, you think I’m into drugs. That ain’t fair, man.”
“We’re not accusing you,” Brianna stated. “But maybe you overheard some other kids talking about the lab. Please, Ace. It might have something to do with finding Ryan.” She gave him an imploring look. “He’s just a few weeks old, Ace. He’s not strong and tough like you. He can’t defend himself, and he might be in danger.”
Derrick heard the pain in Brianna’s plea and saw Ace responding with a change in attitude. He relaxed his shoulders, then leaned closer to Brianna and lowered his voice. “Then instead of lookin’ at me, you ought to talk to Jeremy Dahl.”