Baby’s Watch

by Justine Davis

  But he was definitely a different sort of man than she was used to in her life. He was strong, competent and clearly brave. Trustworthy? She thought so. He was doing the right thing, that was clear. But there was so much she didn’t know. There were hidden depths to Ryder Grady that she did not understand, and she had no time to plumb them now.

  That she wanted to unsettled her.

  Her heart had betrayed her once, just as her mother’s had betrayed her with her father. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking that this, unlike her father and Alberto, was a real man. He was nothing like them, and that meant everything to a woman who had grown up under a very twisted vision of what a real man was.

  Unlike this sham who had fainted at the mere sight of a woman with a weapon. Perhaps he knew he deserved to be separated from certain body parts.

  “It is hard to believe he could be the person who organized this unspeakable thing,” she said, voicing her earlier doubts.

  “Yes.” Ryder looked suddenly serious. “Yes, it’s very hard to believe. It takes a certain amount of nerve to even consider an enterprise like this one. I don’t think he has it.”

  She was gratified that he agreed with her, and so quickly. So she risked her second thought.

  “But he knows who does.”

  Ryder nodded, something very like approval in his eyes. The expression warmed her unaccountably, and she felt a warmth rising in her cheeks that stunned her. She had sworn she would never hunger for a man’s approval again, and yet here she was, basking in it. Was she becoming a fool yet again, and so quickly?

  “We must find out,” she said, her embarrassment at her own reaction sharpening her voice.

  Ryder didn’t take offense.

  A real man, she thought again.

  And this time no amount of internal chiding could dissuade her.

  “That office down the hall,” Ryder said, remembering glancing into the room as they searched for Breither.

  She nodded. “I saw it.”

  “Put that blade to use on these fancy sheets.”

  She quickly did as he asked while he yanked the limp, unconscious man out of the bed and plopped him down into the wingback chair near the window. He took the strips of expensive fabric she handed him, twisted them into ropelike lengths and tied the man to the chair.

  They were a good team, he thought as he tied off the last knot. He’d never been much of a team player, but this was different. This was the kind of thing he could get used to, more like having another part of yourself working in concert.

  The old phrase, My better half, went through his mind, and his breath caught. He’d always thought that it was a joke used by housebroken men, but when he thought about Ana, there was no questioning that in any relationship, she would be the better half.

  That he could see himself liking it that way, that he could imagine himself with her that way at all, rattled him so deeply he had to shake his head to clear it and get back to the matter at hand.

  Moments later they were in the picture-perfect office.

  “No computer,” Ana said.

  “Unless there’s a laptop tucked away somewhere,” Ryder said.

  They began to search. They found no computer, but once Ryder had taken out his lockpicks and opened the heavy wood file cabinet against the wall, they found files upon files full of handwritten notes. Breither was apparently either old-fashioned, stuck in his ways, or too stupid to learn how to use a computer. Ryder’s guess was it was some combination of all three.

  “So much for the paperless revolution,” Ryder muttered as he surveyed the files.

  Ana didn’t speak; she was flipping through the folder tabs quickly. “Nothing,” she said, that edge still in her voice. If they found nothing and had to go back to Breither, Ryder didn’t think much of the man’s chances of holding out against her. He didn’t have time to analyze why the thought made him smile inwardly.

  “These are patient files,” Ana said, closing the drawer, and adding grimly, “with an inordinate number marked with a sticker that says ‘Deceased.’”

  “Must be why he couldn’t make any money as a doctor. His incompetence became known.”

  “Would he really keep papers to do with the babies in with all his old medical files?” she asked.

  “This guy’s squirrelly enough that I don’t know what he’d do,” Ryder said frankly.

  But he kept searching, beginning with the bookcase behind a desk as heavily carved as the bed had been, while Ana kept going through files in another drawer of the filing cabinet.

  “Maybe he’s got a hidden compartment or something here,” Ryder said. “These shelves aren’t as deep as they could be.”

  Ana seemed to brighten at that thought and started helping him remove books from the shelves. Medical books, he noticed. Lots of them. How had someone who had done all the work to become a doctor become so perverted that he would go against every precept of the profession?

  “‘First do no harm,’” Ryder muttered.

  Ana gave him a startled look. “Yes,” she said, as if she’d been thinking exactly what he had. “That is what they swear. And yet he does this. It is abominable.”

  Ryder felt a small tug of satisfaction that they’d been on the same wavelength. But that didn’t help the search. There was no trace of a hidden compartment. Ana was getting frustrated now. “We must find out. Do you think he is awake yet?”

  Ryder stood there, holding the last book he’d removed from the shelves. Ironically, it was a four-inch-thick volume on obstetrics.

  “If he’s not, we’ll wake him up,” Ryder promised, dropping the book down on the pile they’d tossed haphazardly on the floor in their rush; Ryder had a certain respect for books, but no respect at all for anything belonging to this man.

  Ana turned to go, then stopped when he didn’t move in turn. He was looking at the book he’d just dropped, his mind racing.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I don’t usually tackle books that big,” he said, “but…”

  He bent, reaching out to pick up the volume once more.

  “It’s not as heavy as it should be,” he said.

  He opened the cover. Flipped the first few pages.

  The only real pages there were.

  Ana gasped when he turned the next leaf to expose a compartment hidden inside the book, where the pages had been hollowed out. The interior had been coated with something to make the sides of the space stiff, providing a perfectly sized place for the papers inside, more handwritten notes and what appeared to be records. Names, places, records of payments. Dozens of them.

  Ana stared. “This many? They have stolen this many babies?”

  Ryder glanced at her. Her expression was both horrified and furious. He guessed that to Ana, this was suddenly about more than just Maria. He knew her determination to save her little girl was boundless, but her face revealed a fury that would demand nothing less than the total destruction of this reprehensible operation, and the people who were perpetrating it.

  God help them, he thought. Or not, he amended, as he scanned the papers from the compartment and saw page after page that represented tiny, helpless babies like Maria.

  “Here,” Ryder said, handing her some of the handwritten notes in what looked to him like some form of Spanish, but one he didn’t recognize. “I speak better than I read. Take a look at these.”

  Ana took the papers and scanned them rapidly. “It is not you. It is Nahuatl,” she said.

  “What?”

  “It is the language of the Aztecs.”

  Ryder blinked. “Oh. Which means?”

  “Nothing, perhaps. It might mean they were born or lived in Central Mexico, or their parents did.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Some Nahuatl dialects are still spoken today, but mostly in rural areas. Some use it to show off their education, since it is among the most studied dialects in the Americas. It has existed since the seventh century.”

&nbs
p; He blinked again. “You sound like a teacher.”

  “It is what I hope to be. What I went to college to become.”

  College. Of course. Did you think her manner, her way of speaking, was learned on the streets of Mexico City?

  Her father might be the Mexican equivalent of the Godfather, but Ana herself had called him sophisticated, charming and polished. Of course he would want his child to exhibit those same qualities, even if he did consider her more of a possession than a daughter.

  So much for being on the same wavelength. She’s way out of your league, Colton. Best remember that.

  She turned her attention back to the pages. Her brow creased more deeply with each one, and her anger grew visibly.

  “What?”

  “They have taken at least some of the babies from poor parents, who signed them over. For a pittance, a tiny part of what you say they receive for the babies here.”

  “That figures.”

  She looked up at him. “This cannot make it legal, can it? You cannot sell your child!”

  Ryder nearly took a step back in the face of her ferocity. “I’m no lawyer. I don’t know about any of that.”

  She turned back to the papers, went through some more, and began to frown. “There is someone who is mentioned here. Several times. As if he were in charge of everything.”

  Ryder went still. “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” Ana said, frustration tingeing her voice again. “He is not called by name. At least, not a real name. It is a sort of nickname, I think.”

  “What is it?”

  “There is no literal translation to English that I know of. The closest I can say would be he is called ‘Big.’”

  “Is there any clue as to who or where he is?”

  She held up a hand as she went back to the first note and began to read again, more slowly. When she finally reached the last one, her frustration broke loose.

  “There is nothing! No indication of who he is, where he is from, nothing.”

  “How do they talk about him? As if he were a stranger, a local, what?”

  She got his meaning quickly. “They speak of him as if everyone already knows who he is.”

  “That’s something, then,” Ryder said, although he had no idea what.

  “He must know more,” Ana said determinedly. “And we must find out.”

  Ryder wasn’t sure she was right about Breither’s knowledge, but he agreed that they had to try. Back in the bedroom, they found the man revived and struggling to get free. When they stepped into the room he let out a little shriek; clearly he thought they’d gone.

  Confronted with what they’d found, the man paled anew. Ana held the notes she’d translated in front of him. “Who is this man they speak of?”

  “What?”

  “This ‘Big’ they talk of in these notes. Who is he? Where is he?”

  Breither gave her a look so blank Ryder knew it couldn’t have been faked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only know it was the authorization from the parents.”

  “Authorization?” Ana nearly spat it out.

  “Most of the transactions were legitimate,” Breither protested. “Those papers say so.”

  “Which explains why you’re hiding them and burning the evidence,” Ryder said. The man winced at the biting sarcasm in his voice.

  “I never knew—”

  “Do not dare to claim innocence,” Ana warned him. She held the notes in front of him again. “Tell me who this ‘Big’ is.”

  “I tell you, I don’t know. I can’t read that stuff.”

  “Then why do you have it?” she said, resting her other hand pointedly on the knife in her pocket.

  He whimpered. “They told me to keep it all, somewhere safe. To burn the envelopes they came in, so they couldn’t be traced.”

  Ana pulled out the blade, held it with a familiarity and ease even Breither had to notice.

  “They?” Ryder prompted.

  Breither kept his terror-widened eyes on the knife. When Ana turned it so it gleamed in the light he suddenly couldn’t talk fast enough.

  “The papers would arrive, anonymously, in a post office box, when a package was in the system and due to arrive that night. That’s all I know. I never saw or talked to anyone except the man who delivered the package.”

  Ryder believed him.

  He also believed Ana was on the verge of committing mayhem. It was the “package in the system,” as if the babies were something to be shipped like a pair of shoes, that had done it, he thought.

  “I understand, but he’s not worth it, mija,” he said softly. “He’s just a cog in the wheel. And a sniveling coward at that. He just wet himself.”

  For a moment he didn’t think she’d even heard him. But then she straightened, sheathing her ancestor’s blade. She glanced at the dark stain forming on the expensive silk pajamas.

  “The stench in here is foul,” she said. “He does not deserve to live.”

  “Maybe he won’t,” Ryder said, injecting as much cheer as he could into his voice. “He doesn’t strike me as the type who would have a lot of friends checking in on him when he doesn’t show up for a couple of weeks.”

  The man whimpered again.

  “I can no longer stand to be in the same room with him,” Ana said and turned sharply. Ryder breathed again. He hadn’t wanted to have to stop her, but he would have.

  He was relieved that she’d backed off, he thought as he followed her out of the room. But he had no idea what she was going to do when she realized they were at a dead end.

  When she realized that, barring a miracle, Maria was gone.

  Chapter 18

  “I am all right, truly,” Ana said into the phone. “I will explain everything when I return.”

  “Your worthless fiancé didn’t show up, did he?” Jewel asked, concern in her voice. She had been up for a couple of hours, even though it was just now six in the morning. Given her awful bouts with insomnia, Ana had guessed she would be awake, and therefore had risked the call.

  Ana managed a creditable laugh at Jewel’s question. “No. He considers himself well rid of us, I’m sure.”

  She doubted that. He was more likely furious with embarrassment at having his fiancée flee from him in the middle of the night. While her father was likely just furious, as he would be at one of his dogs who dared to disobey him. She didn’t think he would have her put down, as he had one dog who had particularly displeased him, but sometimes she wasn’t so certain of that. Especially since the dog had been her own favorite, and his misdeed had been to hesitate before leaving Ana’s side when her father had called him.

  “Is there any news of the baby smugglers?” Ana asked, trying to keep her tone casual.

  “No developments. Adam was here early this morning, and he mentioned that they’re getting very frustrated at the lack of progress.”

  Ana’s heart sank. Not that she had expected anything different, but she had harbored a tiny hope that something might have changed.

  The real purpose of her early-morning call was now accomplished, but she knew she needed to mask it with more normal chatter. She turned to the one most likely to distract Jewel—the besotted deputy, obviously checking on her in the early hours.

  “And is there any progress on that front?” she asked, using the almost teasing tone she usually adopted when asking Jewel about the handsome Adam Rawlings, so clearly enthralled with her.

  “Not as far as he’s concerned,” Jewel said. “He still wants more than I’m ready to give.”

  At the serious answer, Ana’s voice became serious as well. “Then you are being wise.”

  Jewel laughed. “You’re the only one who thinks so. Everybody else seems to think I should go for it.”

  “They only wish you to be happy. But no one knows what will do that better than you yourself.”

  “Ah, you are a wise one, my friend.”

  If so, it came much too late, Ana thought as she ended the cal
l a few moments later.

  “Nothing?” Ryder asked after a moment.

  “Nothing,” she confirmed. “You are not surprised.”

  Ryder shrugged as he drove. “The sheriff has a lot of other things on his plate just now. This is the only thing on mine.”

  She liked the single-minded sound of that, although so far even their combined determination had not accomplished the goal.

  For the first time, she looked around, realized she did not recognize anything. “Where are we going?”

  He seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering. “Back to my motel.”

  “Fine,” she said. She wanted a quiet place to go through the notes again, where she could concentrate and perhaps find something she had missed in her rapid mental translation.

  She heard him chuckle. It sounded rueful, and a glance at him showed a matching expression on his face. “I’m guessing,” he said, “that does not have the same connotations in your world.”

  “I am not ignorant,” she said, rather stiffly. “I presumed you did not mean it in that way.”

  His expression changed. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted,” he said with a wry quirk to his mouth.

  “I am sure there is a woman in your life who would take offense for you,” she said. “Or at you, were you to pursue such a path.”

  To her chagrin, he laughed. “I love the way you talk when you’re angry.”

  When she was angry, she knew her speech became more formal, especially in English. Although it was the language she knew best after her own, it was still not her first language. She tended to be extra careful when her emotions were roiled, to be certain she did not make any mistakes.

  But that did not mean she appreciated being laughed at.

  “I’m sorry,” Ryder said. “I’m sure you’re in no mood for jokes.”

  Having taken the wind right out of her anger—although she was fairly certain she had mangled that idiom—he was looking at her contritely.

  “No,” she agreed. “I cannot seem to find my sense of humor.”

  “It will come back with Maria,” he said.

  She gave him a grateful smile for that. He smiled back, and she thought it lovely, despite the fact that his face was still slightly swollen. It reminded her that this man had fought for Maria, was still fighting for her, going on when she was certain he would like nothing more than to lie down and rest what had to be an aching body.