Another Woman's Baby

“John Hardison?”

“Yes.”

“Then answer, but don’t say anything about what’s happened.” He read the questions in her eyes, mixed with a tinge of suspicion. That was the one thing he hated about this job—innocent people got caught up in the actions of hardened criminals. “Trust me, Megan. I’ll protect you and the baby. You won’t get hurt again, but you have to do what I say. Just answer the phone and act as if nothing’s wrong.”

He listened to her end of the conversation while he rummaged in her cabinets for food. She was eating for two, and he was hungry himself, but his culinary talents were extremely limited. After they ate they’d work out a plan. No more trying to guard a woman in a secluded old beach house. She wouldn’t like it, but he was going to stick to her every second of the day and night until the man he was after was behind bars.

Even if it took him right into the delivery room.

MEGAN SAT at the kitchen table, using her spoon to make swirls in the remains of her tomato soup. Bart was on his second bowl and he’d eaten every bite of the BLT sandwich he’d made. She’d only managed to get down half of hers and a few sips of the soup.

It seemed strange to be sitting across the table from the man she’d seen as sinister and frightening up until an hour ago. Now she was buying into his story even though she’d still seen no real proof of who he was.

“I’d like to see your badge,” she said, not that she’d know the difference if it was a fake.

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll give you a number at the bureau. But in the meantime, I’ll need to pick up some clothes over at my condo. As big as this place is, I’m sure you have lots of extra bedrooms.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“It’s the best solution.”

“Not for me.”

“You have a short memory, Megan.” He glanced at the kitchen clock. “A little over an hour ago, you were fighting for your life. The man ran off, but he’s still out there somewhere waiting for his chance to attack again. I’m not planning to leave you alone—not for a second.”

“I’ll decide that after I have proof you are who you say you are.”

He wiped his mouth with the flowered cotton napkin. “Are you always this suspicious?”

“I work in the world of big business. I learned long ago not to trust anything but verifiable facts.”

“Good. I’m not a particularly trusting man myself. Now, why don’t you call your doctor and then we’ll make a little trip to my condo to pack my suitcase.”

“You won’t need much for one night.”

He shook his head. “You still don’t get it, do you? I will be with you every second of the day and night from now until the man who tried to kill you is apprehended.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve had enough of the good life. I’m driving back to New Orleans first thing in the morning.” She wasn’t sure when she’d made that decision, but right now she couldn’t wait to leave Pelican’s Roost.

“No. You’re staying here.”

She stood and glared at him across the table. “FBI or not, Bart Cromwell, you will not tell me what to do and where to live. I’m a citizen, not a criminal.”

“Okay.” He spread his hands on the table. “I’m not telling you. I’m suggesting that you stay in Orange Beach.”

“Why? To make it easier for some lunatic to drown me?”

“You’re out here in an isolated setting. It’s much easier for me to protect you. Besides, this is a small town. We have a much better chance of finding your would-be killer before he has a chance to strike again.”

“Why would this man have killed Ben and Jackie, and why would he want to kill me?”

“We don’t know. We only suspect that the explosion was rigged and thought the man might follow up by killing their unborn child.”

“You don’t know more or you’re not saying more?”

“I’ve told you what I can.”

This couldn’t have anything to do with Jackie. It had to involve Ben. He’d seemed such a nice guy, not that she knew him all that well. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure Jackie knew him all that well either. She’d fallen in love with him on a vacation to some island in the Caribbean. They eloped a few months later. She’d never heard her mention Ben’s family.

“So you think the man is not after me but after the baby?”

“We think it’s possible. That’s why I’m here.”

Her heart plunged to her stomach. This madman, whoever he was, planned to kill the baby. The ultimate pay-back to Ben for whatever sin he’d committed in this man’s eyes. He’d kill not only Ben, but his wife and his unborn child.

She was exhausted, so tired she could barely stand, and yet something pushed and hardened inside her, a protective surge that was so strong it nullified the fear. Her fingers clutched the back of the chair and she faced Bart. “Tell me what I have to do.”

“Does that mean you’re willing to stay in Orange Beach?”

“It means I’ll sleep on the sand in a hurricane if that’s what it takes to stop this lunatic and protect the baby.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We need to go to your condo and pick up your things. I want to see your badge and I want to talk to your supervisor. But if this checks out, you just got yourself a partner.”

December 9

MEGAN WOKE to the smells of frying bacon, freshly brewed coffee and salty air. She stretched, then groaned as the ache in her arms and legs clamored for attention. She moved slower this time and ran her hand along her stomach.

“Good morning, little one. I smell food. I’m assuming that means our guest is cooking. He’s the same dark stranger I told you about, but I checked all his credentials last night. Apparently he’s a real FBI agent and he’s here to protect us. The cooking is a bonus. So even though someone roughed us up a little last evening, you don’t need to worry about a thing, not until you get ready to come kicking into the world. I hear that’s a bumpy ride.”

She, on the other hand, had a few things to worry about. She’d talked to the doctor last night, told him partial truths, and he’d said she was probably fine as long as she didn’t have any bleeding or contractions. Still, she was glad she had an appointment scheduled for this afternoon.

And somehow she’d have to deal with living with a man in the house. She was about to slide her feet over the side of the bed when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. So she pulled the sheet up to her neck and waited for Bart to appear. When he stopped at her door, he had a wicker breakfast tray in hand.

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” she said.

“I figured you deserved it after last night.”

“Are you going to join me?”

“Do you want company?”

“Why not? I think we need to talk about how I’m going to explain your living here for a few days.”

“I have that all worked out.”

He narrowed his eyes and his mouth stretched to the left side. She had the feeling he was about to hit her with something she wasn’t going to like, and she didn’t want bad news to spoil her appetite again. The baby needed nourishment. “Have your breakfast before it gets cold. The plans can wait until after we eat.”

She picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on the end of it as he went downstairs to fix a tray for himself. The bacon was crunchy, just the way she liked it. She washed it down with coffee. For the first three months of the pregnancy, she hadn’t been able to drink coffee without getting nauseous, but now it tasted better than ever. Still, she limited herself to one cup a day. Too much caffeine was not good for the baby.

Neither was having a killer chase her. And she had an idea that Bart’s plan wouldn’t make her feel any better. She’d find out soon enough. In the meantime, she took another sip of coffee and tried to find a way to get close enough to the tray not to spill food all over herself. “No offense, baby, but you do take up a lot of space.”

After a few minutes, Bart appeared at the door, and she tried to ready her mind for the next round of surprises from the stranger with a badge.

Chapter Five

Bart set his tray on the table by the window. “This is some layout you have here. The closest I’ve ever been to living the life of the rich and famous.”

“My grandfather built it for my grandmother years ago. He wanted her to have her dream house. She designed it herself, down to the gingerbread trim. It could use some restoration, but it suits me fine the way it is.”

“This is a beautiful stretch of land and there are no high-rises nearby to block the view.”

“My grandmother said the land was practically worthless back then, nothing but miles of sand. No one ever expected this stretch of beach to build up the way it has.”

“I can see why it did. It rivals the Caribbean for sheer beauty.”

“Is this really your first trip to the area?”

“It is. You actually caught me in the truth.”

“So what do I believe about you? Is Bart Cromwell even your real name?”

“It is for now, and that’s about as real as it gets for me. Every assignment I’m a different person with a different background, a different personality. Right now I’m Bart Cromwell, a used-car salesman from Nashville. I can fix you up in a great little low-mileage sedan for less than two hundred dollars a month. Don’t worry about your debt. Everybody’s credit’s good with me.”

“Hey, you are good,” she said. “Makes me want to go out and kick some tires and peek under a hood.” But in other words, there was no use bothering to get to know him. He would never be who or what he claimed. She spread a layer of orange marmalade on her buttered toast. Whoever he was, he made a good breakfast.

He forked a bite of egg. “There’s got to be a dozen rooms in this place.”

“I’ve never counted them, but let’s see. There are six bedrooms, countless baths, the big family room where we sat by the fire last night, the kitchen, a library, that little cubbyhole at the top of the stairs on the third floor. There’s a treadmill in there in case it’s too wet to walk on the beach. And then there’s the cupola. It’s used mostly for storage now, but when I was a teenager, it was where Jackie and I went to giggle and talk about boys.”

“You and Jackie Brewster. As close as two people could be.”

“Only she was Jackie Sellers back then.”

“Right. Daughter of Janelle and Lane Sellers. But back to the subject of Pelican’s Roost. Your grandmother must have known you loved the place when she left it to you free and clear.”

“You do know everything about me.”

The conversation died as they ate. Bart finished first even though he’d had twice as much on his plate. He didn’t appear to have an inch of fat on him, yet his appetite was ravenous. She’d like to find out his secret.

After he drained his coffee, he turned from the window and fastened his piercing blue eyes on her. “Actually, I don’t know everything about you, Megan. I only know facts that are in a computer somewhere or that are common knowledge.”

“What else is there to know?”

“Tell me about your relationship with John Hardison.”

“He’s my associate. We’re heading up a merger team together at the present time.”

“But you were engaged at one time.”

“You didn’t leave a stone unturned, did you? Want to tell me how many times we slept together or did that not make it into anybody’s data bank?”

“None that I have access to.” He leaned in closer. “I’m not into voyeurism, Megan. But my job right now is keeping you safe, and the more I know about you, the easier that will be.”

She sighed and stared out the glass door, focusing on the morning sun rays that sent sparkling sprays along the surface of the Gulf. She’d always been a very private person, and knowing that this stranger knew almost as much about her as she did about herself made her extremely uncomfortable. But not nearly as uncomfortable as she’d been last night in the hands of a killer. That left her no choice but to cooperate.

“John and I were engaged, but we broke up over a year ago. Now we’re friends and co-workers.”

“That must be awkward.”

“We’re adults. We handle it.”

“Is he planning to visit you here at the beach?”

“No. He wasn’t invited, not that he would have come anyway. Spending time with a pregnant woman is not his idea of fun.”

“Then that’s one less person we have to worry about. There’s no reason for him to know anything more than what we tell your friends around Orange Beach. Do you plan to stay here until the baby’s born?”

“That was my original plan. You seem to be setting up my agenda now.”

“Having the baby here will work out fine. Hopefully, this will all be over long before the birth.”

“I should certainly think so. That’s two and a half weeks from now.” She pushed the tray away. “Now, tell me about this plan that you have.”

He exhaled sharply as he gave her his undivided attention. “You, Megan Lancaster, are about to knock a man right off his feet and into your bed.”

“You, Bart Cromwell, must have crumbled hallucinatory drugs into your eggs.”

“No. This is pure genius.”

“I assume the guy’s blind.”

“Twenty-twenty vision. You’re looking at him. We’ll laugh and hold hands and stare into each other’s eyes at local restaurants. We might even be spotted dancing cheek to cheek at one of the clubs.”

“Oh, no!” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “You may only exist in this one moment in time, but I don’t. I know people in this town, and I’m not going to become a spectacle. You can be a friend, a renter, or a relative, but I will not pretend to be your lover, not with this body.”

He walked over and stood beside her. “What happened to your promise to do whatever it takes to catch the killer.”

“Look at me.” She stood and clasped her hands beneath her bulging belly. “Even if I agreed to do this, who would believe you’re attracted to me? I’m eight months pregnant. I look like a blimp.”

“That’s only in your mind.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve thought this through. I need to be with you every time we leave the house, and we have to make our being together look as natural as possible. If it looks like a setup, the man will bide his time. He’ll be out there waiting for me to slip up. Waiting to strike again. And neither you nor the baby will be safe.”

She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as terror set up camp in her chest and wrapped around her heart. These feelings weren’t good for the baby. She had to get hold of herself and stay in control. No one would hurt her baby. Bart wouldn’t let them. She wouldn’t let them.

Her baby. A blunder of the mind. But she couldn’t let it happen again. She opened her eyes and concentrated on taking smooth, even breaths. “We’ll do this your way, Bart, but I’m warning you. Don’t push it too far. A few laughs. A little hand-holding. You can even look into my eyes as if we’re lovers. But this is only for show. When we come back into this house, it’s strictly business.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Now, when do the games begin?”

“I’d say over lunch. We have to sell the act as quickly as possible.”

“And once we’ve convinced the people around here that we’re lovers, do we just wait for this madman to strike again?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Hardly.” She raked her long bangs behind her ear, her mind still struggling with the problems his plan encompassed. “It’s not going to work, Bart. No one will believe you came here on vacation and hooked up with a pregnant woman.”

“Actually, we’re going to spread the word that I’m an old boyfriend who came here to visit and the sparks just started flying again.”

She shook her head. “They’ll never buy it.”

“Sure they will. I am very good at what I do.”

“I am too, and this isn’t it.” She stepped around him and walked to the door. “I’m going to shower and get dressed.”

He smiled. “Wear something sexy. You’ve got to knock my socks off.”

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