His Secret Christmas Baby

by Rita Herron

  Then he spotted a file folder marked adoption, and opened it up. He skimmed the paperwork legally giving Brianna custody of Ryan. But Natalie’s signature stopped him.

  The signature…

  His heart pounded, and he grabbed a card Natalie had sent to Bri that he’d seen in the desk, then compared the signatures. Anger roiled inside him as he noted the way she dotted the I in Natalie. It was the same small circle Brianna used when she’d signed her name on those release papers from the paramedics.

  He gripped the papers with a sweaty hand, his mind racing. Brianna had forged Natalie’s signature so she could gain custody of Ryan.

  She’d told him that she didn’t know if Ryan was his, but what if she had?

  Women on previous cases had deceived their child’s father to keep the man out of the baby’s life.

  What if Brianna wasn’t the innocent sweet girl he’d believed her to be?

  If she’d lied about the paperwork, and deceived him, what else had she lied about? Had she kept Ryan from him so she could have him herself?

  His hands bunched into fists.

  Had she seduced him tonight because she feared he’d find out?

  Her soft voice called his name, then he looked up and saw her standing in the doorway.

  Dammit. He was such a fool. He’d trusted the wrong woman again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brianna stared at the papers in Derrick’s hands, a sick knot catching in her chest.

  She knew exactly what Derrick had found—the papers she’d fudged so there wouldn’t be any question as to her request for custody being approved.

  She could lose her job, possibly even go to jail.

  But the look in Derrick’s eyes was even worse.

  “Natalie never signed Ryan over to you.”

  Disappointment, accusations and contempt edged his gruff voice. “You knew all along that Ryan was mine, but instead of contacting me, you forged papers so you could adopt him.” He waved the papers in the air. “It’s true, isn’t it? You lied to me. You knew but you wanted Ryan, and the only reason I found out about him was because he was kidnapped.”

  She shook her head, hating the hurt on his face. “No, Derrick….”

  “Don’t lie now, Brianna,” Derrick said coldly. “I can see for myself that you signed Natalie’s name here. Any expert certainly could.” He stalked toward her. “But you had it all covered, didn’t you. With your job, you just pushed things through, so no one asked questions.”

  Brianna released a shaky breath, and clutched her robe around her, glad she’d slipped it on. “That part is true,” she whispered, her voice choking. “But it’s not like you think, Derrick. I swear I didn’t know you were the father, Natalie lied to me about that.”

  “Why would she lie? You were her best friend.”

  Because she’d known that Bri was in love with Derrick. That she’d wanted him all her life.

  But she couldn’t say those words now. He’d never believe her.

  “Why? Because you didn’t think I was fit to be a father?”

  The pain in those words wrenched her heart. “No, Derrick, you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not the reason at all, I swear I didn’t know the truth.” She reached for him, but he jerked away.

  “Don’t touch me, Bri. That sweet little seductive act won’t work anymore.”

  “Derrick, you have to listen to me,” she said, barely able to breathe. “Natalie was panicked and afraid that night when she went into labor just like I said. And she did make me promise to take care of Ryan. I swear that’s true, and then she died, and everything fell apart. I was grieving and in shock, and I was afraid that if I didn’t get custody of Ryan that he’d go in the system and—”

  “Stop it!” Derrick shouted. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies.”

  The look of contempt in his eyes sent a sharp pain through her chest. She reached for him again. Only an hour earlier, they’d been curled up in bed together. They’d made love over and over. He had to know how she felt.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I love you, Derrick.”

  “I can’t believe I actually trusted you,” he hissed. “That I fell for your act. You’re just like the rest of the women I’ve known. You’ll lie and sleep with anyone to get what you want.”

  “No….” Pain stabbed her heart. “I love you, Derrick. I always have. That’s why Natalie didn’t tell me you were Ryan’s father.”

  “I said to stop with the lies.” He grabbed his socks and shoes and stuffed them on, then his coat and stalked toward the door, his movements jerky and filled with rage as he yanked open the door. With a snarl, he pivoted and gave her an icy look. “I’m going to find my son, and when I do, Brianna, I will get custody of him, and I never want to see you again.”

  The winter wind whistled through the house as he left, but the painful chill inside her had nothing to do with the cold.

  Even if he found Ryan, she’d lost them both.

  DERRICK STORMED FROM THE house, frustration and anguish clawing at him. He wanted to pound out his anger into something—into someone.

  How had he let Brianna get under his skin?

  He jumped in her car, and tore down the mountain, self-recriminations screaming in his head. Yet even as he told himself that Brianna had used him, had seduced him, the sight of her tears as he’d left, of her begging him to listen, made his chest clench.

  Brianna had never been deceitful, not in school. She’d always been loving and kind and helped bring families together. She had loved Natalie beyond belief.

  And hadn’t Natalie written that she didn’t want to tell Bri about his night with her because Bri had always crushed on him?

  Dammit. He didn’t know what to believe.

  Maybe he’d overreacted to those papers because he was so afraid he’d lost his son. Because if Natalie had trusted him, she would have told him about the pregnancy. Maybe Bri truly had only been trying to protect Ryan.

  And last night when he’d been so distraught, she’d given herself to him.

  Bri had never slept around.

  He started to spin the car around and go back to her and have it out, but his phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Sheriff Cramer.

  God, what if he had bad news?

  Inhaling sharply, he quickly stabbed the connect button. “McKinney.”

  “Derrick, it’s Cramer.”

  A tense second passed. “Yeah?”

  “The rescue workers didn’t find a body in the fire.”

  Relief surged through him, making it difficult to swallow much less breathe. “No baby?”

  “No. No one.” Cramer coughed. “I have more news. We found a print at the house.”

  Hope exploded in his chest. “Whom did it belong to?”

  “A kid named Jeremy Dahl. He was arrested for a possession charge last year, but his lawyer got him off.”

  “I talked to him,” Derrick said. “But he denied knowing anything about the lab.”

  “He lied. We need to talk to him again.”

  Adrenaline surged through Derrick. “I’ll meet you at his house.”

  Cramer gave him the address, and he steered the car toward town. Ten minutes later, he met Cramer at the Dahls’ house, a sprawling Georgian structure on three acres in a new development that catered to the wealthier sect of Sanctuary. Bright red bows and wreaths adorned the windows, a tree had been lit up outside and through the window he spotted another one in the dining area that touched the twenty-foot ceiling.

  Cramer scrubbed his hand over his beard stubble, and Derrick realized the man had been at the scene of the fire all night and hadn’t slept. Derrick rang the doorbell and the sound chimed through the house.

  A maid answered and escorted them in. Derrick noted the expensive furnishings, a collection of carolers in a glass case, and miniature crystal snowmen lining the mantle of the great room.

  This kid probably had everything he’d ever wanted—but he’d turned to drugs.
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br />   A middle-aged man in a pricey-looking business suit appeared and glanced between them with a scowl. “Sheriff Cramer?”

  “Hello, Mr. Dahl.” He introduced Derrick, then asked to talk to his son.

  “What is this about?” Mr. Dahl asked.

  “Just get your son and we’ll explain.”

  “Perhaps I should call my lawyer first?” Dahl suggested.

  Cramer crossed his arms. “That’s up to you, Mr. Dahl. We’re simply here to ask questions, not make an arrest. But if you’d rather do this down at the station…”

  “No. I’ll get him.” Mr. Dahl disappeared for a moment, then returned. Jeremy was dressed in jeans and a football jersey, a surly attitude on his face.

  He cut his eyes toward Cramer, then Derrick, and jammed his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. “I need to leave for school.”

  “This won’t take long,” Cramer said.

  Mr. Dahl gestured for them to sit down and Jeremy slumped on the leather sofa, twisting his hands in his lap.

  Cramer disclosed facts about the meth lab they’d discovered and the fire.

  Dahl stood abruptly. “My son is not involved in drugs.”

  Jeremy bit his lip but stared at his hands.

  “Mr. Dahl,” Cramer interjected. “We know that Jeremy was arrested for possession and your lawyer made the charges disappear.”

  “So?” Jeremy muttered. “That was last year.”

  Jeremy’s father gave him a warning look.

  “What do you know about this meth lab?” Cramer asked.

  “Nothing,” Jeremy answered.

  Derrick’s temper rose. “That’s what you said at the school. But if that’s true, why were your fingerprints found at the site where the lab burned down?”

  Panic lit Jeremy’s eyes, and his father cursed.

  “Jeremy?” his father said sternly. “I thought you said you were clean now.”

  “I am,” Jeremy stuttered. “I just went there with a friend.”

  “What friend?” Cramer asked.

  “Just a friend,” Jeremy exclaimed. “But we didn’t burn the place down.”

  “Jeremy was at home last night,” his father insisted. “I picked him up after practice and we came straight here.”

  “Look, Mr. Dahl,” Derrick cut in. “I don’t really give a crap about the drugs or the lab, but this may have something to do with my son being kidnapped and the murder of Natalie Cummings, the baby’s mother.”

  “What?” Dahl narrowed his eyes. “What’s a meth lab got to do with a kidnapping and murder?”

  Derrick explained their theory.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with Ms. Cummings’s death or that kid being stolen,” Jeremy bellowed.

  His father stood and reached for the phone.

  “Dad, I swear I didn’t,” Jeremy muttered. “I admit to going to the meth lab, and yeah, I even tried a hit but that was it. I don’t know anything about this other stuff.”

  “What about a group called The Club?” Derrick asked. “We think they burned down the hospital years ago during an accidental explosion. Are they responsible for this lab?”

  Jeremy shifted sideways. “Like I said, I don’t know nothing about the kidnapping or murder.”

  “Jeremy,” his father called through gritted teeth. “Tell them what you do know. Who started the lab?”

  Jeremy glared at his father, but Mr. Dahl gave him a stern look and Jeremy grunted. “Some old guy started it.”

  “What old guy?” Derrick asked.

  “A drug salesman, you know, a legitimate one.”

  “You mean a pharmaceutical salesman?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “He contacted a couple of the science geeks and they built the lab. Name’s Irkel or something like that.”

  “Irkman,” Derrick suggested. “Wilbur Irkman.” He glanced at Cramer. “I heard his name from someone else.”

  “There, he’s told you what he knows,” Mr. Dahl said. “Now you’ll leave him out of this, won’t you, Sheriff?”

  Cramer stood, hands on his hips. “As long as he’s telling the truth.”

  Derrick gave him a cold look. “And if you lied, Jeremy, jail will be the least of your problems.”

  BRIANNA PACED IN FRONT OF THE fireplace, haunted by the sight of Derrick walking out. Where was he now? Was he looking for Ryan?

  Would he come back? Would he even let her know when he had found the baby?

  She slumped onto the sofa then dropped her head forward into her hands. God, she’d made such a mess of things. First she’d lost Ryan.

  And now she’d lost Derrick, the only man she’d ever loved.

  Too agitated to sit still, she jumped up and paced across the room, pausing to study the photos of Ryan again.

  She could survive if Derrick didn’t love her, but they had to find his son.

  She had to do something; she just couldn’t sit here and wait.

  Adrenaline kicking in, she grabbed a pad of paper and listed all the people they’d questioned.

  First the two couples, the Phillipses and Hamptons. Principal Billings. Ace Atkins. Jeremy Dahl. Evan Rutherford. Wilbur Irkman.

  Then the hospital staff—Dr. Thorpe. And Mark Larimer.

  Dr. Thorpe seemed sincere, but something about Mark had made her feel uncomfortable.

  Hadn’t his name been mentioned in relation to the science club years ago?

  She glanced at the box holding Natalie’s things, remembered the yearbooks inside, dug out the one from eight years ago and flipped through it.

  She found the photograph of the science club and studied Wilbur Irkman’s picture, then Mark’s. She recognized a few of the others, but most of them had moved away.

  Wilbur had been out of town when they’d gone to his house.

  And Mark worked at the hospital. He could have easily slipped into the recovery room and no one would have noticed. And with his medical knowledge, he’d know just how to kill.

  She rushed up the steps to dress. She had to make Mark tell her the truth. She threw on jeans and a sweater, socks and boots then ran down the steps to grab her keys. Then she remembered that Derrick had taken her car.

  She punched in the number for Sanctuary’s taxi service, then phoned the hospital to see if Mark was on duty. Thankfully he was working the morning shift.

  Twenty minutes later, the cab driver dropped her off at the hospital. She shivered as she jogged up the steps and rushed inside, but determination spurned her on. Even if she couldn’t have Ryan and Derrick, she could help bring Derrick’s son home.

  She rode the elevator to the labor and delivery floor, then asked for Mark at the nurse’s desk. “He’s with a patient, but I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  She nodded, glancing at the nursery as she waited. Even though she hadn’t given birth to Ryan, she’d loved that baby with all her heart. He was a part of her best friend and the man she loved—how could she not love their child?

  The nurses and volunteers were bustling around, the food carts delivering breakfast clinking on the linoleum floor. Suddenly she felt something sharp jab at her back.

  “Miss Honeycutt?”

  She stiffened at the sound of Mark’s low cold voice.

  “There’s a gun at your back,” he growled. “Scream or make a move and I’ll shoot.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Derrick followed Cramer in his squad car to Wilbur Irkman’s residence, his pulse racing. Maybe they were finally going to get some answers.

  He’d beat them out of the man if he had to.

  Ryan had been missing too damn long.

  Cramer had agreed to keep his siren off so as not to alarm Irkman in case he heard them and decided to run. Dahl had promised that his son would not contact the man and warn him they were coming, but he didn’t trust anyone now. Especially a man trying to protect his son.

  Ironic that his old man had beat him half to death, when this man was willing to put his money and reputation on the line to protect him
and the kid was screwing up.

  When he found Ryan, he would be a better father than his own. He would spend time with his boy, take him fishing and boating, teach him to ride a bike, throw a softball.

  None of which his old man had done.

  Would that be enough?

  Ryan’s mother was dead. The only person he’d bonded with was Brianna.

  A fresh pain seized him. She did love Ryan. But had she lied when she said she’d loved him?

  Could he ever trust her again?

  Cramer screeched to a stop at the Irkman house, and Derrick stopped and threw Brianna’s car into Park. Gritting his teeth against the chill, he and Cramer strode up to the door and Derrick pounded on it.

  Wilbur’s mother grumbled from the inside. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s Sheriff Cramer,” Cramer said. “Open up, ma’am.”

  The door screeched open, the scent of coffee and sausage filling the air, along with the scent of cigarette smoke. Mrs. Irkman flipped the cigarette up with a dismissive scowl. “What you want?”

  “To see Wilbur,” Cramer said.

  Derrick shouldered his way past her, and walked through the rundown place, when a thin wiry man emerged from the bathroom wearing a pristine white collared shirt and dress pants. Derrick vaguely remembered the geek from high school, the guy who’d been on the Dean’s List and won all the science fairs.

  “What the hell?”

  Derrick grabbed him by the collar and shoved him up against the wall. “We know you were involved in the meth lab that burned down last night. You also were responsible for the one eight years ago, the one that killed all those people, including women and kids.”

  Irkman’s face totally blanched, and his eye twitched. “You can’t come in here and accuse me of this.”

  Mrs. Irkman shrieked and pressed a hand to her chest. Cramer helped her to sit down, and gave Derrick a warning glare.

  Derrick didn’t care. They’d wasted enough time.

  “Tell us the truth, Irkman,” Derrick growled between clenched teeth. “We know you’re involved, that you ran the drug operation, and that you may have wanted to cover it up just as you covered up your lab eight years ago when all those citizens of Sanctuary died. Did you have Natalie Cummings killed to protect your side business?”