Dylan and the Baby Doctor

“Thanks. Let’s see what’s going on first.”

If he had been anyplace other than Los Pin˜os, Dylan would have called one of his buddies to take over right this second, because Trish was right—searching for missing kids tore him up inside. But there weren’t a lot of private detectives nearby and time was critical in a situation like this. He had no choice. All he could do was pray that this disappearance would have a happy ending.

Kelsey felt as if someone had ripped out her heart. Anyone who’d been through med school and worked in an emergency room was used to terrible stress and was able to think clearly in a crisis. Despite all that training, though, she hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought since the moment when she’d realized that Bobby was no longer playing in the backyard where she’d left him.

She had simply stood staring blankly at the open gate, frozen, until adrenaline kicked in. Then she had raced to the street, pounded frantically on doors, trailed by bewildered, helpful neighbors as she’d searched futilely for her son. Although plenty of people were outside on such a sunny summer day, no one had seen him leave the yard. No one had seen him toddling down the street. A child Bobby’s age, alone, would have drawn attention.

She had no idea how long it had been—minutes, an hour—before she concluded that Bobby hadn’t simply wandered away. By then both Justin and Lizzy had arrived, alerted by the neighbors. Justin had taken charge automatically, asking crisp, concise questions, organizing a search and leaving Lizzy to sit with her and try to keep her calm, when she wanted to be out searching herself.

With neighbors crowded around wanting to help, talking in hushed voices, Kelsey didn’t feel calm, not after three cups of chamomile tea, not after the mild tranquilizer her friend had insisted she take. She wasn’t sure she would ever be calm again, not until she had her baby back in her arms. This was her worst nightmare coming true. It didn’t matter that no one had seen a stranger on the street. She knew what had happened. She knew who had taken Bobby. And why.

“It’s Paul,” she whispered finally, forcing herself to say aloud what had been tormenting her from the moment she’d realized Bobby was gone. “He’s taken him. I know he has.”

“You’re probably right,” Lizzy said, her tone soothing, as if she still feared that Kelsey would shatter at any second. “And I know you hate the man’s guts, but isn’t that better than a stranger? Paul won’t hurt Bobby. Despite what a louse I think he is, I know he loved Bobby. He just wants money or drugs and Bobby’s his bargaining chip. I think you can count on him being in touch. He’s not going to run with him. He’ll bring Bobby back the minute he gets what he wants.”

“If he’s desperate, who knows what he’ll do?” Kelsey countered, shuddering.

This wasn’t the old Paul, the one she’d fallen in love with. That Paul had been brilliant and driven and passionate. He had loved her in a way she’d never expected to be loved, charming her, convincing her in the end that he couldn’t live without her, that they shouldn’t wait till she finished med school or her residency to marry. It was ironic, really, that she’d struggled with the thought of marrying, just as Lizzy had, had finally rationalized that if Lizzy and Hank could juggle everything and make it work, so could she and Paul.

She couldn’t exactly pinpoint when Paul had changed. Maybe he hadn’t, not really. Maybe the drive she’d so admired in him at first had always been an obsessive need to win, to get what he wanted when he wanted it. He’d gotten her. He’d gotten the perfect job at the right brokerage house, then slaved to be the top broker, the quickest to earn a promotion. He’d convinced her to have a baby, even when she’d been so sure it was too soon, that their schedules were too demanding.

“We have the money. We can afford help,” he’d reasoned. “I want a family, while we’re still young.”

Now, always now. But she had gone along, because he had wanted it so much and she had wanted to please him. When Bobby came, every doubt she had had vanished. He was perfect. Paul was ecstatic and more driven than ever. Their son was going to have the best of everything.

“We have enough,” she had told him more than once. But it was never enough for Paul, not for a kid whose family had struggled while he was growing up. He told her again and again that he knew the real meaning of adversity and he was determined that his wife and son would never catch so much as a glimpse of it. “Not as long as I’m able to bring in the big bucks just by putting in some long hours.”

Then he had taken a nasty spill on a ski trip and fractured his wrist. It should have been little more than a minor inconvenience, but she knew now that that was when his addiction began. He’d taken the painkillers so he wouldn’t have to slow down for so much as a second. He hadn’t wanted to miss making a single commission. He’d never stopped.

She had cursed herself a thousand times for not realizing he was hooked. She was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. She should have caught the signs, but she was too busy herself. In her own way, she was every bit as much of an overachiever as Paul.

Then there was a traffic accident. Paul’s injuries were minor, the other driver’s only slightly worse, but the routine bloodwork the police insisted on had revealed a high level of painkillers in his system. Confronted, he’d promised to stop taking them.

Shaken to the core, Kelsey had searched the house, found every last pill herself and flushed them all down the toilet. She had warned Paul to get help or lose her. She had wanted desperately to believe that he loved her and Bobby enough to quit.

A month later, she’d realized that her prescription pad was missing. Suspicious, she had made calls to half a dozen pharmacies, verified that her husband had gotten pills at every one of them and at who knew how many more. He had forged her signature on every prescription.

She had seen a lawyer that same day and had the divorce and custody papers drawn up. It was a drastic course of action, but she hadn’t known what else to do. She had prayed that maybe the sight of the divorce papers would shock him into getting help. It hadn’t. He’d simply taken more pills and blamed her for backing him into a corner.

She had known then that she couldn’t let him ruin their lives, destroy her reputation. That night she had made a shaken and contrite Paul sign the papers. A week later, she’d moved to Texas, praying that he really would get the help he needed.

Now this. God help her, but she would kill him if he did anything to hurt her baby.

“We have to find him,” she whispered.

“Which is why I called Dylan,” Lizzy soothed. “He’ll find him. Trish says he’s the best private eye in Houston. Unlike Justin, he’s probably handled cases like this a zillion times. He’ll be fast and discreet.”

“Where is he?” Kelsey whispered, her desperation mounting with every second that passed. Unless he’d spent it all on pills, Paul had plenty of money, enough to run to the ends of the earth. She might never find him or her baby.

“Shouldn’t he be here by now?” she asked, edgy with impatience and ever-growing fear.

Lizzy glanced toward the doorway just then and smiled. “Here he is right now.” She stood up, offering her seat opposite Kelsey at the kitchen table. “Dylan, this is Bobby’s mom, Kelsey James. Doctor Kelsey James.”

Kelsey felt her ice-cold hand being enveloped in a strong, reassuring grip. His size registered, too. He was a big man. Solid, with coal-black hair and a grim expression. She focused on his eyes, blue eyes that were clearly taking in everything. She had the feeling that his gaze missed nothing, that he could leave the room and describe every person, every item in it. At the same time there was a distance there, a cool detachment. Funny how she found that reassuring. He was a professional, she reminded herself, just what she needed. The best. He would find Bobby and bring him back. That was all that mattered.

“Tell me what happened,” he suggested in a voice that was surprisingly gentle. He sounded almost as if he truly understood her pain. “Tell me exactly what you did, beginning with the moment you realized your boy was gone. Where was he? How long had he been out of your sight?”

“I’ve already told Justin everything,” she said, not sure she could handle going over it again. It seemed surreal, as if she hadn’t lived through it at all.

“Tell me,” he said insistently. “I might catch something that Justin missed. Or you might remember something else. Every little detail is important.”

He listened intently as Kelsey described everything that had happened, but when she mentioned Paul, something in his attentive expression changed. That disturbing coolness she’d noticed before subtly shifted into what she could only describe as icy disdain. He gazed at her with such piercing intensity that she shivered.

“You have full custody of your son?” he asked, as if it were some sort of crime.

She nodded, unsure why that seemed to unsettle him so.

“When was the last time the father saw him?” he asked, an inexplicable edge in his voice.

“Before we left Miami, about ten months ago. That was our agreement,” she said, not explaining about the other part of that agreement, about her promise not to turn Paul in to the authorities. No one except Lizzy knew about that and no one ever would.

“You believe this was an abduction by a noncustodial parent,” he said, summing up what she’d told him.

“I’m sure of it.”

“Has he threatened to take Bobby before?”

“No, but—”

“Then why are you so certain?”

“I just am. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Bobby wouldn’t go off with a stranger, not without raising a fuss. Besides, I don’t have enemies. I don’t make a lot of money, so a demand for ransom’s hardly likely. If someone wanted money in this town, they’d take an Adams.”

He nodded. He might be an outsider here, just as she was, but he obviously knew who had the power and the fortune.

“You haven’t treated any kids who didn’t make it, whose parents might blame you?” he asked.

“No. Not since Miami.” There had been a few inconsolable parents back then who’d wanted to cast blame on someone, anyone, and she’d been the easiest target. “People who lose a child aren’t always thinking clearly, but there were no malpractice suits. I doubt any of them would pursue me to Texas.”

“Okay, then, let’s assume it’s your ex. Have you got a picture of him? And I’ll need one of Bobby, too. The most recent one you have.”

Relief flooded through her at his concrete suggestions. At last, something she could do. She went for the photo albums she kept in the living room, took out the most recent picture of Paul, then another of Bobby from his birthday party just a few weeks earlier. Ironically, the latest one she had of Paul had been taken on that ill-fated ski trip that had started his downward spiral.

“You’re going to help?” she asked as she handed the pictures to Dylan.

The question had been rhetorical, but for a moment she actually thought he might refuse. His expression was grim. He looked as if he wanted to say no. In fact, the word seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, but with Lizzy and others looking on expectantly, he finally sighed heavily.

“I’ll help,” he said at last.

After he’d gone, Kelsey kept telling herself that was a good thing, that she could count on this man, because Lizzy had said she could. But in her heart she kept wondering about that tiny hint of reluctance. It had something to do with her custody agreement with Paul. She was sure of it. Until she had mentioned that, Dylan Delacourt had been on her side. Now she couldn’t help wondering if he was really on hers…or on Paul’s.

Chapter Two

Dylan wasn’t sure which had unsettled him more, gazing into Kelsey James’s worried green eyes and feeling her fear, or discovering that she had sole custody of her son, that she had taken the boy away from his natural father. The former drew him to her, made him sympathetic. The latter made him want to withdraw from the case before he even got started.

He couldn’t help making possibly faulty and unfair comparisons to his own situation. He instinctively lumped Kelsey in with Kit, assuming she too had backed a man into a desperate corner that had cost him his son. All of his own bitterness and resentment came surging back with a new focus: a slim, frightened mother who probably deserved better from him.

In the end, reason—and obligation to the Adamses for their past kindnesses to his sister—won out. There was also the slim chance that Bobby could have been taken by someone other than his father. Until he knew for certain that Bobby was not in real danger, Dylan knew he had no choice. He had to take the case.

Of course, if he hadn’t been persuaded by duty, there was the picture of Bobby, a robust little boy with an endearing grin. He couldn’t help comparing him to Shane, wondering if his son was as healthy and happy as Bobby appeared to be in the picture. No matter what, Dylan knew he couldn’t risk any harm coming to the child because his own personal demons kept him from pitching in to find him. With any luck they would locate Bobby quickly, Dylan’s duty would be done, and he wouldn’t have to spend much time around Kelsey James.

Eager to get away from her and to get started, he muttered an inane reassurance that neither of them believed, then left the crowded kitchen and went off in search of Justin Adams.

Justin might be a small-town sheriff, but he was smart and dedicated. He would have covered all the necessary bases and Dylan saw no need for them to duplicate efforts. Hopefully Justin would feel the same way, rather than going territorial on him the way a lot of cops did when faced with a private eye on their turf.

He found Justin outside by his patrol car, talking to his dispatcher over the radio. He signaled a greeting to Dylan.

“I want every last man on this, okay? Forget the shift roster and call them all in.”

“Got it,” the dispatcher said. “Want me to start calling motels? It could save time.”

“Do it, Becky,” Justin agreed. “Start with the immediate county, then widen it county by county. And make sure I can read your damn notes for once, okay?”

“There is nothing wrong with my handwriting,” she responded tartly. “At least I take notes, unlike some people I could name.”

Dylan would have smiled at the obviously familiar bickering if the circumstances had been different.

Justin sighed as he signed off. “The blasted woman’s known me too long. She thinks she’s the boss, even though I’m the one with the badge.” He studied Dylan. “Lizzy called you, right? I figured she would.”

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely not. I can use all the manpower around on this, especially if you’ve got experience. Except for old Mr. Elliott, who wanders away from home and gets lost since his Alzheimer’s has gotten worse, and the occasional missing dog, this is not something I’m used to handling. I’d be a whole lot more comfortable calling in the FBI, but Kelsey got so upset when I mentioned it, I backed off.”

“Any idea what she’s afraid of?”

Justin shook his head. “I’d be willing to bet Lizzy knows, though. One year as roommates in med school, and the two of them have been thick as thieves ever since. If we don’t catch a break soon, I’ll pound it out of her, if I have to. Figuratively, of course.”

Sensing his frustration and sharing it, Dylan grinned. “I’ll help. Do you know anything about Paul James?”

“Only that Kelsey wanted to get away from him badly enough that she gave up a promising career in Miami to move here. It came up suddenly, despite Lizzy’s pretense that they’d always talked about working together. One minute Lizzy was running the clinic by herself, the next Kelsey was here and living out at my grandfather’s. Grandpa Harlan seemed real reluctant to let her and Bobby leave to move here in town, and I sensed it wasn’t just because he’d grown attached to them. He had me check the security locks on this place top to bottom.”

“Domestic violence?” Dylan speculated.

Justin shrugged. “Always a possibility, but my gut tells me no. A few years back when Patsy turned up here in town, she was running from an abusive husband. I don’t see the same signs with Kelsey. She’s at ease around men, for one thing.”

“Patsy’s your wife, right?” Dylan asked, trying to recall what he had heard about her situation. Just that she’d run from a husband who’d been a high-profile political candidate in another state, a man who had had a nasty temper. Bottom line, Justin would know better than most about how a victim of abuse would behave.

“Right. She had a little boy when we met and we have another one of our own now. She’s at home with them, in a panic that something will happen to them if she turns her back for a second. Until we know for sure that Paul James is behind this, there will be a lot of other mothers who feel the same way. I’d like people to know as soon as we’re sure that there’s no need to lock the kids inside and bar their doors.”

“Can’t say I blame them, in the meantime,” Dylan said. “How about I start running checks on Paul James? Maybe we can pick up a trail from credit-card receipts, see if he’s in the area.”

“Go for it,” Justin agreed. “If you need access to a computer, use the one down at the station. I’ll deputize you here and now to make it all nice and legal.”

That was more than Dylan had hoped for. Normally, he preferred to operate on his own, but in this instance he was far from his own computer and other resources. A little hand-in-hand cooperation with the local authorities could cut through a lot of red tape. Having access to that computer would be a godsend. Besides, Justin struck him as a good man to work with. The past few minutes had established that he wasn’t a hardliner with an attitude. He was the kind of sheriff Dylan admired, a man who just wanted to get the job done, utilizing whatever resources he could command.

“I’ll let you know what I find out,” he promised.

“I’m not worried about that,” Justin told him. “Nothing gets past my dispatcher. Becky will be all over you while you’re around. If you find so much as an itty-bitty clue, I’ll know about it.”

Dylan chuckled, liking the man more and more. “I should have known you weren’t just trying to make my life easy.”

Justin’s expression sobered. “Nope. Just trying to find that little boy before any harm comes to him.”

“Amen to that,” Dylan said.

Unable to sit still a moment longer, Kelsey wandered into the living room and stared out the window at the two men talking on the sidewalk.

Over the last few months she had gotten to know Justin Adams. She trusted him, but she also knew that Bobby’s disappearance was not the sort of thing he typically had to handle. She’d seen how upset he’d been by her refusal to call in the FBI. Maybe she was crazy, but she thought the fewer police involved, the better the chances of keeping Paul’s secret and keeping Bobby safe. Watching Justin talk to Dylan, she could almost sense his relief at having someone with more expertise involved. She wished she was as confident.

She studied the private investigator, trying to overcome this fear that kept nagging at her. Once again, she was struck by his size. He was taller than Justin by a good three inches, putting him at six-three or so. He was broader through the shoulders as well. An ex-football hero, she was willing to bet. He moved with the ease of an athlete. None of that mattered, though. All she cared about was whether he could find her son.

She sensed Lizzy coming to stand beside her. Her friend hadn’t strayed far from her side since this nightmare had begun. “Looks like they’re comparing notes,” Kelsey said. “They’re probably wondering how I let something like this happen.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I should have watched him more closely. He shouldn’t have been outside alone.”

“He’s a little boy, not a prisoner. He was in your own backyard. Maybe he wandered out front,” Lizzy consoled her. “It only takes a second and if someone is watching, waiting for that to happen, there’s not a thing you could do to prevent it.”

“I should have—”

“Should-haves will make you crazy,” Lizzy advised. “You’re a wonderful mother. I won’t listen to anyone—including you—who says otherwise.”

Kelsey mustered a faint smile at Lizzy’s fiercely protective tone.

“Why aren’t they doing something?” she asked plaintively. “They’re just standing around talking.”

“Planning, coordinating,” Lizzy corrected. “In the long run, it will save time.”

Kelsey sighed, her gaze once again settling on the private investigator. “I don’t think Dylan liked me much. He was so, I don’t know, cold, I guess. At first I thought he was being professional, just trying to calm me down by seeming competent and practical, but now I’m not sure.”

“Dylan liked you just fine,” Lizzy reassured her. “I was there. He was just trying to get a fix on things.”

Before Kelsey could debate her assessment, the phone rang, startling them both. Kelsey all but dived for it. “Hello,” she shouted, then forced herself to quiet down. “Who is this?”

“Mommy?” a tentative little voice whispered.

Oh, sweet heaven, it was Bobby. She clutched the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Sweetie, is that you?”

“Hi, Mommy.”

“Oh, baby,” she whispered. Her knees went weak and she sank into a chair. She was dimly aware of Lizzy racing to the front door and shouting for Justin and Dylan. “Where are you, Bobby?”

“He’s with me, of course,” Paul said, interrupting.

Hearing his voice confirmed every one of her fears. He sounded as if he were on the edge. Too many pills? she wondered. Or not enough?

“Paul, please, bring him home. We’ll forget this happened.”

“Not just yet.”

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything. Just bring Bobby back. I know you didn’t do this just because you missed him and wanted to spend time with him. If that had been the case, you’d have called.”

“And begged? Is that what you want, Kelsey?”

“No,” she said honestly. She wanted him to stay away, but he was back in her life for the moment, for better or for worse. “Paul, what is this about? What do you want?”

The only response was the quiet click of a receiver being put back into place. Kelsey stared at the silent phone in shock. He had hung up on her. She didn’t know any more than she had before.

No, she told herself staunchly, that wasn’t true. She knew for sure now that Paul had their son. She knew that Bobby was okay, at least for the moment.

For the moment. The phrase twisted and turned in her thoughts, terrifying her. What about a moment from now? Or an hour? Then, to her chagrin, she burst into tears, gulping sobs erupting from deep inside. All the pent-up emotion of the past couple of hours came pouring out.

As if from a great distance, she could hear Lizzy murmuring to her. She was dimly aware of Justin barking orders into the phone. And then of a dip in the sofa as someone’s weight settled next to her. For the second time that day, her hand was enveloped in Dylan Delacourt’s. She recognized his touch, clung to him, because he was solid and reassuring and he was here.

“Talk to me,” he commanded.

He tipped her chin up until she was forced to face him, forced to choke back another sob that threatened. He dug a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and silently handed it to her, then waited a minute until she was calmer.

“That was your ex?” he asked then.

She managed to nod. “Bobby first, then Paul.”

“Good. Then we know what we’re dealing with, who we’re looking for. We know it wasn’t a random act by a dangerous stranger, just a dad wanting to see his child.”

She blinked back a fresh batch of tears. “That is good, isn’t it?” she echoed, desperate for hope. Then she considered the rest of what he’d said, the faint note of sympathy in his voice. She didn’t dare tell him he was wrong, that this wasn’t about Paul’s love for Bobby at all.