Saving His Son

Tenderness softened his dark eyes

Gavin’s breath brushed Lindsey’s cheek as he leaned close to her. “Try to hang in there, okay?”

“Okay.” The look in his eyes destroyed her resolve to remain uninvolved with him.

He had a tough exterior that made him appear fearless. Emotionless. But she knew what it was like for him to lose control. Gavin had deep emotions—feelings he channeled into work instead of sharing with a woman.

“So you’re not giving up?” Lindsey asked, knowing her heart lay in her eyes.

“No.” His fingers wiped away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “You have to trust me, Lindsey. I’ll find our son.”

Saving His Son
Rita Herron

MILLS & BOON

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Rita

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rita Herron is a teacher, workshop leader and storyteller who loves reading, writing and sharing stories with people of all ages. She has published two nonfiction books for adults on working and playing with children, and has won the Golden Heart Award for a young adult story. Rita believes that books taught her to dream, and she loves nothing better than sharing that magic with others. She lives with her “dream” husband and three children, two cats and a dog in Norcross, Georgia.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Lindsey Payne—A woman who has loved only one man in her life—the same man who unknowingly gave her a son. But now their son is missing.

Gavin McCord—A man who thought he was protecting the love of his life by pushing her away. Did he push her into the arms of danger instead?

Dr. William Cross—An old-fashioned doctor who runs a small-town birthing clinic—is he hiding something?

Janet Quinn—The nurse who helped deliver Lindsey’s baby, then disappeared. Could she have stolen Lindsey’s child?

Andy Atkins—A mentally challenged orderly who claims another woman gave birth the same night as Lindsey. But is he reliable?

Lamar Forbes—The sheriff who insists his small town is a haven from big city crime—until someone tries to kill Lindsey Payne.

Christopher Little—A lawyer with a big bank account and a very closed mouth. How far would he go to protect his clients?

JoAnn Haney—Lindsey’s best friend. She’s desperate to have a baby—but how desperate?

Jim Faulkner—Lindsey’s ex-husband. She put him in jail; is he out for revenge?

Yvonne & James Faulkner—Lindsey’s ex’s parents; they hated Lindsey for putting their son behind bars.

Danny Swain—A prisoner who threatened to get even with Gavin. Could he have orchestrated the kidnapping from his jail cell?

Dwight Johnson—His son died under Gavin’s care—could he have taken Gavin’s son as a replacement?

Dear Reader,

What is every woman’s worst nightmare? To lose a child or have a child kidnapped.

Real-life stories about missing children are a common occurrence, yet the mystery, the suspense, the emotions are universal. Every time I see a newspaper article or TV clip or a picture of a missing child, my heart wrenches for the family. And each time, I hope for a happy ending.

Having three children of my own, I can’t imagine missing any part of their lives—so my heart certainly went into writing Saving His Son. But in my version, you get the happy ending…plus a little romance!

Hope you enjoy.

Please write me at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225 for updates on other releases.

Sincerely,

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Your baby is alive.”

Lindsey Payne’s hand trembled around the phone receiver as the hoarse voice faded into nothingness. It was the second time the person had called in two days, the fourth call this week. Could it be possible? Could her son really have survived?

“Who is this?” she finally croaked. “Why are you doing this to me?”

The harsh click of the phone cut her off, jarring her senses into a thousand frayed nerve endings. Just like the other times. Tears spilled out of her swollen eyes as grief consumed her. Her baby would have been six weeks old today. If he had lived.

She’d been so distraught in the hospital the doctor had prescribed sedatives, but by the end of the first week, she’d weaned herself from the drugs and the memories had surfaced. Blurred memories which raised questions in her mind. Someone had tried to kill her in the hospital. At the time she hadn’t cared. She’d been in too much pain to fight.

Later, when she’d told the hospital staff, they claimed she’d been hallucinating. She’d pleaded with the local sheriff to listen, but he’d insisted nothing ever went wrong at Maple Hollow’s birthing clinic. That she should try to move on with her life. And she’d tried.

Then the phone calls had started, making her wonder if her baby was alive. He was out there somewhere crying for her. Needing her.

Or maybe she was going crazy. Maybe someone was feeding off her grief, and she kept hanging on to their twisted words out of a misguided need for hope. But who would do such a horrid thing?

“Lindsey?” Her neighbor JoAnn stood in her den, her face pinched with worry. “I knocked but you didn’t answer, so I got worried and used my key. Are you all right?”

Lindsey nodded, grateful for the numbness settling over her. “I’m fine, thanks for thinking of me.”

JoAnn placed a basket of muffins on the sofa table behind her and moved into the doorway toward Lindsey. “Did you receive another phone call?”

JoAnn’s intuition startled her. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, Linds,” JoAnn’s voice broke. “I don’t know who would be so cruel. Maybe you should change your number.”

Lindsey knotted her hands in her lap. “No, if the caller knows something about my baby, I want to talk to them. I just wish whoever it is would stay on the line long enough for the police to trace them.”

The compassion in JoAnn’s expression almost triggered another onslaught of tears. “Why don’t you visit the class today for bike day? We’re taking the kids on a picnic.”

Lindsey remembered the excitement over bike day from her own special needs class the previous school year. She’d taken a year’s leave of absence to stay home with her baby. Now, she wondered if she should return sooner. “It sounds like fun. Maybe I will come by later.”

“I’ll see you there then.” JoAnn turned to leave, pausing in the shadowed hallway. “And Lindsey, try to eat something. You’re getting way too thin.”

Especially for someone who’d recently had a baby.

The unspoken words hung in the air between them. She and JoAnn had joked about the extra pounds Lindsey had gained during her pregnancy. She’d worried she wouldn’t be able to shed them. So far, losing weight hadn’t been a problem.

When JoAnn left, Lindsey headed to the shower, by-stepping the white wicker bassinet she’d purchased for her infant’s arrival home. The pale yellow blanket still lay folded at the foot of the mattress, the Winnie-the-Pooh mobile dangling above the eyelet headboard. She should move the bassinet to the nursery with the other baby furniture but couldn’t bring herself to part with it yet. She’d planned to keep her son in her room at night so he’d be close by when he woke. Now, the empty cradle reminded her of her the aching void in her life.

She should at least move the bassinet to the den so it wouldn’t be the first thing she saw every morning. Inhaling a calming breath, she hauled it to the front room, then hurried to shower. Visiting the school would do her good. The kids needed her. And she desperately needed to fill her time with something besides her own troubled thoughts.

The hot water felt heavenly on her skin as she washed the last strains of fatigue and tears from her face. After toweling off, she pulled on her robe and poured herself a cup of coffee, her gaze resting on the mail that had arrived the day before. The stack she’d been too apathetic to open. The sympathy cards she could no longer bear to read.

A pale blue envelope drew her eye, her stomach clenching at the distinct size and shape. Had someone sent her a congratulations card? Someone who didn’t know about her loss…?

Her vision blurred as she ripped open the envelope and stared at the blue teddy-bear shape. Her baby’s autopsy report had been placed inside. Blood type: O positive. It couldn’t be—she had type A; Gavin, B.

The card fluttered to the floor as Lindsey doubled over. Could the hospital have made a mistake? If even the remotest possibility existed that her son was still alive, she had to find him. An image of Gavin’s handsome, dark features flashed into her mind, the anguish of his parting words even more visceral since she’d lost their son. No, she couldn’t turn to Gavin.

She’d go to the sheriff, beg him one more time to take her seriously and investigate her son’s death.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Sheriff Forbes greeted her with a nod, the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent beneath the glare of the overhead light. His thick gray hair stood in tufts on his head, his bushy eyebrows due for a trim. He needed to retire, to be fishing with his grandchildren somewhere, not running the town. “How’re you doing this morning, Ms. Payne?”

“I’m okay, but I need to talk to you.”

The sheriff gestured toward his office, grabbing a cup of coffee off the scarred linoleum counter as he passed. He offered Lindsey some, but she declined, knowing the caffeine would only add to her shakiness.

“What can I do for you this morning?” Forbes lowered his wiry frame into the vinyl chair behind his cluttered desk, folding one leg to rest across his knee.

Lindsey lay the card on the jumbled mess. “I received another call this morning.”

His eyebrow shot up with concern. “Did you recognize the voice? Was it a man’s or a woman’s?”

“I couldn’t tell, it was too muffled. Then I received this autopsy report in the mail.”

The sheriff wrapped a handkerchief around his fingers, opened the envelope and scanned the contents. “I’ll have it checked out, but I doubt we can trace it. The card is generic, no return address. Probably won’t be any prints either.”

“Even if you can’t trace the card, the autopsy proves my baby is alive,” Lindsey argued.

The sheriff’s gray eyes filled with pity. “It doesn’t prove anything, except that someone’s playing a sick joke on you, Ms. Payne. For all we know this report isn’t even legitimate. Someone could have stolen the autopsy report or doctored it to make you think this baby wasn’t yours.”

“But why would someone go to such lengths? And doesn’t that report make you wonder if something is wrong?”

“It makes me want to find the creep and teach him a lesson for planting false hopes in your head.” He rose, hooking one thumb in his belt loop. “Look, I’ve known William Cross since we were kids. He’s the best doctor in these parts. There’s no way he’d lie to you about something this important.” His voice grew more confident. “Why, he’s delivered half the town and no one’s ever had a complaint.”

“That doesn’t mean something didn’t happen that night,” Lindsey said with conviction.

“Even William was upset over losing your little boy. I haven’t seen him so distraught since Mrs. Cornell miscarried her twins.” His foot jerked up and down. “He hates it when deliveries don’t go smoothly, but he’s only a doctor. Sometimes the good Lord works in mysterious ways. We have to accept his plan.”

Frustration swelled in Lindsey’s chest. “So you won’t consider the possibility this report isn’t real?”

The sheriff’s grave expression infuriated her. “There’s nothing to investigate. I don’t for a minute think William would tamper with medical records. He could lose his license.”

“What about the medical examiner? Isn’t he related to Dr. Cross?”

“Yeah, but you’re way out on a limb. If something had happened with your baby, there’d be witnesses. Don’t you think someone would come forward?”

“There is a witness. The person who keeps calling me. Maybe they’re afraid to come forward.”

Forbes clicked his teeth. “Ain’t a soul in these parts afraid of Doc Cross. Just listen to yourself, sounds like you lived in that big city too long. Crazy things like you’re supposing don’t happen in Maple Hollow.” He moved around the desk to comfort her, but Lindsey backed away, almost stumbling over the small bookcase in the corner.

“Why don’t you let Doc give you some nerve pills or something to help you through this?”

Lindsey turned and headed to the door. “I don’t need pills. I want answers.” Without even looking back, she slammed the door, then hurried outside. Heat rolled off the pavement in waves, sucking the air from her lungs.

But she couldn’t give up.

How many times had she lain awake in the darkness thinking of her son? She could almost feel him in her arms. She could hear him crying for her, she knew he was out there somewhere. He needed her. And if Forbes didn’t intend to help her find the truth, she’d find someone who would.

Gavin McCord’s handsome face flashed before her. Emotionless, calm, a tough cop—afraid of nothing, He would never let anything stop him from doing his job. She wrapped her arms around herself, aching for his comfort, but he was the last person on earth she wanted to ask for help. Although he hadn’t known about the baby, when she’d tried breaking the news about her pregnancy, he’d cut her off as if he’d guessed her news. His parting words haunted her. “I’m not cut out for marriage, Linds. Don’t want a wife or kids—ever.”

Well, that was fine. She didn’t want a husband, either. She’d had one, and he’d been trouble. First she’d discovered his gambling problem, then he’d embezzled funds from his own law firm. When she’d divorced him and decided to testify against him, he’d tried to kill her. Gavin had been assigned to protect her. That last night before she’d testified, they’d both crossed some invisible line…they’d slept together and made a baby. Only Gavin hadn’t wanted a relationship…

She refused to beg for Gavin’s love. But she needed his expertise right now and she would beg him to find her son if she had to.

“ANOTHER CASE well done.” Gavin’s superior, Lieutenant Peterson, slapped him on the back.

Gavin shrugged. “Yeah, one dealer down. A zillion more to go.” He rolled his left shoulder to relieve the throbbing sensation that had escalated in the last hour. He’d taken a bad punch, had a few bruises to show for his work.

“You’re getting cynical in your old age,” Peterson said with a wry laugh.

“Goes with the territory.” Gavin bit off the end of a stale eclair, frowning as the white creme squished out the sides and dribbled over his fingers.

Peterson dropped a folder on his desk. “Get that report on my desk before you leave, McCord. Then what the hell, take a day or two off. You deserve it.”

“Don’t go overboard,” Gavin drawled sarcastically, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I’ve only been undercover for three weeks, with no sleep I might add.”

“You do look like hell,” the lieutenant added.

Gavin rubbed a hand over three weeks’ growth of beard. Too tired to get up, he lifted his booted feet, planted them on the top of his desk and leaned back in his chair as Peterson loped out. He thumbed through the papers, stacking a few of them in his To Do pile, when a plain manila envelope caught his eye. He picked it up and studied the envelope. No return address. No postage meter or stamp. Hmm, odd.

His curiosity piqued, he ripped it open and removed a sheet of paper, his eyes narrowing when he noticed letters cut from a newspaper forming the words An Eye For An Eye. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Who in the hell sent this?”

Not that he didn’t have enemies. Jeez, the problem was he had too many.

LINDSEY STOOD outside the Raleigh police department, her stomach twisting.

Gavin might not relish seeing her or hearing she’d given birth to his baby, but he thought like a cop, acted like a cop. He would take her case. She’d make it plain she hadn’t come to him to resume a personal relationship, the same way he’d made it plain he didn’t want one with her. Other than that one night of incredible sex.

But she wouldn’t repeat her mistakes.

And if Gavin hated her because she hadn’t told him about their son, well…she’d get over it.

Right now, her son was the only person who mattered.

GAVIN WAS STILL contemplating who might have sent the unnerving note, An Eye For An Eye, when the door screeched open.

“Someone here to see you, McCord.”

All thoughts of the anonymous note flew from his mind when Lindsey Payne stepped through the door—what was she doing here? He thought she’d disappeared from his life forever.

Peterson waved her in and left, and Gavin clamped his jaw tight, fighting his gut reaction—lust. Need. Want. For a woman he couldn’t have.

She moved toward him and his breath hitched in his throat. She wore her silky blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the starkness of her high cheekbones. Dark smudges curved beneath her eyes and a denim jumper hung on her slender frame as if she’d lost weight. Her pale complexion alarmed him. Even so, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He’d dreamed about her too many nights to even count.

Lindsey tipped her head, her smile weak. “Gavin.”

He straightened, instinctively aware something was very, very wrong. Her once vibrant eyes were hollow and empty, sending his protective instincts kicking in. Even when Lindsey had been threatened by her ex, she’d been a fighter. The strange mixture of courage and vulnerability had been one reason he’d been unable to resist her that last night. Now, she looked almost fragile.

“What’s wrong, Lindsey? Faulkner hasn’t been harassing you, has he?”

She sank into the hard wooden chair. “No, not exactly.”

Gavin filled a cup with water and handed her the cup. “Here, drink this and take a deep breath. You look awfully pale.”

“I’m okay.” Lindsey accepted the glass and drank, her hands shaking.

He gave her a moment to gather her thoughts. “Why are you here, Lindsey?”

She bit down on her lower lip, a small nervous laugh escaping her. “Don’t worry, Gavin. This is not a social call. I didn’t come back—”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His heart squeezed at her cryptic tone. The Lindsey he knew never sounded cynical—not like him.

She inhaled a fortifying breath and he gestured toward the door. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

Her brown eyes studied him pensively, and he remembered too late she’d asked him the same question the last time she’d seen him. He’d just testified against a murderer, only the man he’d testified against had threatened retribution to him and everyone Gavin knew. He’d immediately relived his childhood fears. Only this time he wasn’t the kid. He was the man whose loved ones had been threatened. He’d panicked and told her he didn’t want her. Didn’t want a relationship. Marriage. A family. Ever.

“Your office is fine. I came here…to ask for your help.” Her voice sounded stronger, but her fingers fumbled over the handles of her leather purse as if she were reconsidering the idea.

He stroked his beard with his chin, faintly aware her hand followed the movement. “What kind of help do you need? Money? Legal advice?”

“No.” Her eyes darted toward the closed door. “I need your services as a detective.”

“You came here to report a crime?”

“Sort of…yes.” Her back stiffened as if she didn’t know where to begin.

He’d seen the same nervous reaction when she’d confessed about her ex-husband’s illegal activities. “Take your time, and tell me what happened.”

She nodded, seemingly grateful for his encouragement. “I…I had a baby a few weeks ago.”

His heart thundered in his chest, his mind automatically ticking away the months.

The air caught in his lungs.

“But the doctor told me my baby died. I think he may have lied,” she continued in a shaky voice. “And I want you to help me find him. Or at least find out the truth. To find out if my baby is alive.”

The air caught in Gavin’s lungs. He leaned against the front of his desk and folded his arms. “Tell me something, Linds.”

She lifted her heart-shaped face to stare into his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

“Was the baby Faulkner’s, or…was he mine?”