His Secret Christmas Baby

But if that baby boy was his, he’d find out.

B RIANNA WAS SHAKING AS SHE drove back to her house, but with the snow thickening, she forced herself to drive slowly and to avoid the dangerous patches of black ice.

What if Derrick was Ryan’s father?

Would he want the baby?

An ache rolled through her chest at the thought of having to give up the little boy she’d come to think of as her son. Yet at the same time, guilt pressed against her chest.

She loved Ryan and as his adoptive mother, she had to think about his future, to put him first. She’d never known her own father.

Didn’t Ryan have a right to know his, especially if the man wanted to be in the picture?

She parked, gathered Ryan from the backseat, rocking him as she rushed to her house and unlocked the door.

The wind sent the chimes into a soft musical symphony, her front porch swing swaying in the breeze. The wreath she’d hung on the door reminded her of the upcoming holiday, that this was a special time of year. Natalie had loved Christmas.

For Brianna, it had meant lonely nights, holidays without gifts, a reminder that her mother had dumped her on the doorstep of an orphanage and never looked back.

But Natalie had treated her like family, and her parents had included her in their family celebrations, making memories that had changed her life. She and Natalie had decorated cookies together as kids, had created handmade ornaments and strung popcorn for the tree.

Natalie would be missed.

Brianna would carry on those traditions with Natalie’s son, and make sure he knew his mother’s love.

Ryan’s cries escalated. She flipped on a light and rushed to get him a bottle. He calmed as he ate, and stared at the twinkling Christmas tree lights as if mesmerized by the bright colors. She had bought a crib for the spare bedroom, so she changed his diaper and settled him into the baby bed.

Exhausted herself, she went to her room across the hall, then pulled on warm flannel pj’s and climbed in bed.

But worry kept her tossing and turning for hours, her nights filled with memories of the orphanage and the friend who’d left her behind.

Then other images taunted her. Derrick’s big masculine body. Derrick looking at her with desire. Touching her. Wanting her. Making her his.

Finally she fell into a deep sleep, but a noise jarred her awake.

The baby crying…. He was probably hungry again.

She shoved the covers aside, jammed her feet into her slippers and pulled on her robe, then knotted it at the waist and shuffled across the hall.

Night shadows streaked the walls, then suddenly the silhouette of a man bled into view, and her heart pounded. He was in the nursery, leaning over the crib.

Panic shot through her. He was going to take Ryan!

Lunging into the room, she shouted at him to stop, but he scooped up the baby and turned toward her. He wore all black and a ski mask, the only visible part of him was his eyes. Dark eyes that bored into her like lasers.

“Put him down,” Brianna said. “Please just leave him alone. He’s just a baby….”

He stalked toward her, his hulking form menacing as he shoved her aside. She grabbed his arm to stop him and get Ryan, but he swung his fist up and slammed it into her face. Her head snapped back, but she sucked in a sharp breath, terror streaking through her as she ran after him.

He raced toward the stairs, and she clawed at his back and shoulders, but he jerked her arm and flung her down the steps. She hit the wall, bounced over the ridges of the staircase and landed in a puddle at the bottom of the steps, the room spinning.

Clutching the baby to him, he vaulted over her. Panicked, she grabbed wildly at his ankle, determined not to let him escape.

“Let go, you bitch.” With a snarl, he swung his foot back and slammed it into her nose. Blood spurted, pain rocked through her and the room swirled.

Choking on a sob, she struggled to crawl after him. But he kicked her again, and she lost the battle and collapsed into the darkness.

Her last thought before she passed out was filled with pure terror—she’d just lost Natalie’s son.

Chapter Two

Derrick jerked awake, sweating and panting for breath. Images of that last case had haunted him all night. He could still see that tiny grave, hear the father’s choked cry, the mother’s scream of denial.

That dream had blended into another—memories of his own father tormenting him as a kid, beating him to a bloody pulp, making him feel worthless.

He stood, wiped the sweat from his brow and went to the window. Daylight was barely dawning yet it was always night in his mind, night filled with dark thoughts of that case and the mess he’d made of it.

All because he’d let his past get in the way. Let himself believe the mother’s story that the kid’s father was abusing him. Easy to believe. It happened every day.

But in the end, he’d been wrong. The mother had been the abuser.

Her tears had fooled him.

Never again.

He had to stay detached.

The snow dotting the tree branches reminded him of Brianna holding that baby at the graveyard the night before. Of the question nagging at him.

Could that little boy be his son?

Hell, if he is, he’s probably better off without you. What do you know about fatherhood?

Zilch. Except that he didn’t want to be like his old man. And he didn’t want some kid thinking he’d deserted him, either.

What kind of mental scars would that give him?

Hissing in frustration, he strode to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked bloodshot, worry lines fanning around his mouth, the remnants of the nightmares still in his gaunt expression.

No, if that baby was his, he wouldn’t hurt him like his father had hurt him.

Dammit. He’d find a way to be the man, the father, the kid deserved, even if he had to take lessons to do it.

And damn Brianna. If she knew the baby was his son, why hadn’t she contacted him and told him?

Another woman—another deception. It seemed to be par for the course. Women liked to play games. But he was no player.

He took a quick shower and dressed, then grabbed his weapon and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans. As he went out the door, he tugged on his jacket and slogged out through the snow. A glance at his watch told him it was only 6:00 a.m. Brianna might not be up. Then again, babies awakened early, didn’t they?

The snow flurries were dwindling, yet the spiny branches of the trees were coated in white, and dark storm clouds hung heavy in the sky. Gears ground as he chugged up the mountain road toward Brianna’s, grateful he’d had snow chains put on the Jeep. The winter wind whistled through the car as he parked in her drive. Squinting through the fog at the small log cabin, he frowned as he noticed her front door stood ajar.

Why would her door be open in cold weather?

Instincts honed from years on the job kicked in, and he removed his gun and climbed out, his gaze scanning her property as he slowly inched toward the porch.

He didn’t see anyone lurking around, but still kept his eyes peeled as he neared the front door. A glance inside made his stomach knot.

Brianna was lying on the floor at the bottom of the steps unmoving.

Good God, what had happened?

Adrenaline kicked in as he ran toward her and knelt to check for a pulse. His own clamored as he waited.

A second later, he exhaled in relief. She was breathing.

He placed his gun on the floor beside him, pulled his cell phone from inside his jacket and punched 9–1-1.

“This is Derrick McKinney,” he told the operator. “Send an ambulance to Brianna Honeycutt’s house. She’s unconscious and it looks like she took a fall.”

“I’ll get an ambulance out there right away,” the operator said, then asked for the address.

Derrick gave her directions, then snapped his phone closed, and brushed Brianna’s hair from her cheek. “Brianna, can you hear me?” He gently shook her, turning her face sideways to check her injuries.

The bruises on her face made his gut clench.

She hadn’t just fallen. Someone had hit her.

Anger churned in his gut, then panic slammed into him. The house was quiet. Too quiet?

Where was the baby?

His heart pounded as he vaulted to his feet and searched the downstairs, then raced up the steps. He spotted Brianna’s bedroom on the left, then a guest room across the hall with a crib inside. He hadn’t prayed in ages, but he said a silent prayer that the baby was safely asleep in the crib.

But when he looked inside, the baby was gone.

T HE SOUND OF A MAN ’ S GRUFF voice penetrated the fog enveloping Brianna, but a screeching sound trilled in the distance, compounding the pain hammering in her head.

“Brianna, can you hear me?” Soft fingers stroked her cheek. “It’s Derrick McKinney. I need you to wake up and talk to me.”

She moaned, but slowly roused, and tried to open her eyes. Where was she? What had happened?

“Brianna,” he said a little more harshly. “Please. I need you to talk to me.”

Panic and fear pummeled her as reality returned. Oh, God…the baby.

“Ryan…” Tears choked her, and she pushed at the floor with her hands, desperate to get up. “The baby…a man…he broke in and took him.” The room swirled as she lifted her head, and pain rocked through her again, sending nausea in waves.

“Easy,” Derrick urged. “You’d better lie flat until the EMTs get here. You might have a head injury.”

“No, I’m okay.” She had to drag in a breath to stem the nausea. The room twirled, and she closed her eyes and willed herself not to get sick on him. “Just help me to the couch.”

He eased her onto the sofa, then knelt beside her. “Tell me where it hurts,” he said.

“I’ll be fine,” she claimed through gritted teeth, “but he took Ryan.” She clutched his arm with an iron grip. “You have to find him, Derrick. You have to.”

“I will,” he declared softly. “Just tell me what happened. What do you remember?”

She massaged her temple, struggling to recall the details. “I put Ryan to bed after I got home and then went to bed myself. Later, I heard him crying, and went to the nursery, but a man was standing over the crib. Then he grabbed Ryan and started to leave.”

“Did you see his face?”

She shook her head. “No, it was so dark, and he was dressed in all black and wearing a ski mask. The only thing I saw was his eyes.” A shiver rippled through her, and she slowly sat up. “He had cold, mean eyes.”

He stroked her arm as if to calm her. “Then what happened?”

“I tried to stop him, but he hit me, so I ran after him. I caught his arm on the steps, but he threw me down them. Then he ran by me on the stairs.” Tears leaked from her eyes and rolled on her cheeks. “I grabbed his ankle, but he kicked me in the face and chest. I was dizzy but I tried to get to him, but he kicked me again and I must have passed out.”

She dropped her face into her hands. “Oh, God, Derrick…Ryan is gone and it’s all my fault.”

D ERRICK TRIED TO STEEL HIMSELF against the torment in Brianna’s voice, but if there was one emotion he understood, it was guilt. And hers was genuine. No act.

Her sobs tore at him, and he couldn’t resist. He pulled her into his arms and held her. It was a cop thing to do, a human comforting another. He’d done it a thousand times on a case.

But never had the person’s pain made him ache inside like a knife had ripped open his heart.

And never had he felt so connected with anyone in his life.

The thought scared the crap out of him.

The connection had to do with the missing baby—the baby he thought might be his.

Grasping onto that reality, he gently lifted her away from him. “Brianna, I have to call the sheriff.”

“What time is it?” she whispered.

His expression turned grim. “A little after 6:00 a.m. What time did you wake up and hear the baby crying?”

She swiped at the tears streaking her pale, bruised cheeks. “I’m not sure, maybe four, four-thirty.”

A siren wailed outside. About damn time, Derrick thought. She could have died before help arrived. If he hadn’t stopped by, she might have been lying there for hours.

He stood and reached for his phone. “I’ll meet them and call the sheriff. We need to issue an Amber Alert.”

“Yes, of course.” She clutched his hand. “Please, Derrick. We have to act fast.” She caught her lip with her teeth on another sob. He wanted to console her again, but time was of the essence.

She leaned back against the sofa looking stricken as he hurried to meet the ambulance. The paramedics jumped from the vehicle, and walked toward him.

“We got a 9–1-1 call.”

His training kicked in. “Yes. Brianna Honeycutt was attacked by an intruder during a baby kidnapping. The perpetrator knocked her unconscious before he escaped. She’s awake now, but probably has a concussion. And she may be going into shock.”

The medic in the lead nodded. “And you are, sir?”

He produced the ID that Gage had given him. “Guardian Angel Investigations. Before that, I was with the Raleigh P.D., Special Victims Unit.”

The medic nodded. “We’ll check her out and prepare to transport her to the hospital for tests and observation.”

“Thanks. I’ll call the local authorities to report the kidnapping.” He breathed in the early morning cold air, needing to clear his head as he punched in the sheriff’s number. On instinct, he’d immediately programmed into his phone the pertinent numbers he’d need in the area. He’d done his homework, too, and knew that Beau Cramer had taken over as sheriff after Charlie Driscill had resigned. He didn’t know the full story there, but he would find out. Driscill’s resignation had something to do with Gage and his wife Leah, but he hadn’t pushed yet. But if it pertained to a case, he would.

Friends with Gage or not.

“Sheriff Cramer.”

“Sheriff, this is Derrick McKinney of Guardian Angel Investigations. I’m with Brianna Honeycutt at her house. You need to get out here. She was attacked, and the baby she adopted was kidnapped.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks.” Derrick phoned GAI to inform Levi he had a case, then snapped his phone shut, and went back inside to check on Brianna. Hopefully, they hadn’t wasted too much time while she was unconscious.

Every second, every minute counted.

And every one that passed meant their chances of finding the baby decreased exponentially.

B RIANNA DIDN ’ T WANT MEDICAL treatment now. She wanted to scream and shout and cry.

She wanted to find her baby.

Pain robbed her breath. She might not have given birth to Ryan, but he was hers.

Only what if Derrick was the father…?

And if he wasn’t? What if the birth father found out about Ryan and decided to take him from her? What if he’d been the man in the house?

But why sneak into her house in the middle of the night? Why not come forward and claim his son? DNA tests could have been done….

Unless there was something about him, maybe a criminal record that would keep a judge from giving him custody? Or if he wanted to get rid of the child.

That horrible possibility sent nausea rolling through her again.

Damn Natalie. Her friend should have told her the truth about the baby’s father. And if she was in danger, she should have confided the reason.

“Miss Honeycutt.” The medics introduced themselves as Adam and Joe. “We need to check you over.”

“I’m okay,” Brianna said. “I just need to find my baby.”

“One step at a time, ma’am,” Adam said. “Let us check your vitals and transport you to the hospital for tests.”

“I don’t want to go the hospital.” Hysteria bubbled in her chest. “My son is missing. I have to find him.”

The medic gave her a sympathetic look but coaxed her to lie back down on the sofa. The other one brought an ice pack for her cheek. “I understand, ma’am. But you’re injured, and we need to do our jobs. Mr. McKinney has called the sheriff.”

Fear overwhelmed her. “But my baby could be anywhere by now….”

The medics exchanged looks, then Adam strapped on a blood pressure cuff while Joe listened to her heart. Frustration knifed through her, but she finally conceded and let them do their jobs.

Another siren wailed in the distance, and Derrick jogged outside to meet the sheriff. By the time they came inside, the medics were insisting that Brianna go to the hospital.

She gave Derrick a determined look. “I’ll sign a release. I refuse to go the hospital.”

Derrick’s dark gaze met hers while Sheriff Cramer folded his arms. Cramer was shorter than Derrick, and stockier. The last time she’d seen him had been at Natalie’s funeral where he’d seemed quiet and withdrawn.

“Brianna, are you all right?”

“No,” she responded. “Someone kidnapped Ryan.”

“We want to take her for tests,” the medic explained. “She probably has a concussion and may have some cracked ribs.”

“No. The only thing they’ll do for a concussion is to tell me to rest,” Brianna said. “I’m not going to the hospital.”

“Brianna,” Derrick urged.

She threw up a warning hand, cutting him off. “What I need,” she declared firmly, “is to find Ryan. Now let’s stop wasting time and do it.”

The medics exchanged frustrated looks, but Derrick finally nodded. “I’ll bring her in later if I think she needs it. You guys can go now.”

She signed the release form and sighed in relief as they left. Her head and ribs were the least of her problems. The pain in her heart was robbing her breath.

Sheriff Cramer sat down in the club chair beside the couch. “Tell me what happened.”

Brianna repeated the story, this time on autopilot.

“We’ll find the baby,” he assured her. “I’ve already issued an Amber Alert. Can you describe your attacker?”

She shook her head. “Not really. He was medium height, beefy, wore dark clothes and a ski mask.”

“Did he say anything?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let go, you bitch.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see what kind of car he was driving?”

“No,” she whispered. “He broke in while I was asleep. I chased him down the steps but he knocked me out. I never made it outside.” She drew in a deep breath. “Why would someone take Ryan? I don’t have any money.”

“How about the baby’s father?” Cramer asked.

Brianna’s gaze shot to Derrick. “I’m not sure who he is.”

“But he could have come after the baby.”

She shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“The baby might be mine,” Derrick said, his jaw tight. “I want to run a DNA test.”

Cramer’s brows shot up in surprise. “You might be the baby’s father?”

Derrick gave a clipped nod. “You need a crime unit out here to check for forensics. Maybe this guy left a stray hair or fiber or a print.”

“He wore gloves,” Brianna said, despair weighing on her.

“I’ll get GAI to set up a trace on the phones,” Derrick commented. “In case the kidnapper calls wanting a ransom.”

Beau stood. “This is my town, McKinney. I’ll run the case.”

“I don’t intend to get into a pissing contest with you,” Derrick countered. Good God, the man was years younger than him and probably green when it came to this type of work. “Finding missing children is my specialty, Cramer. It’s what I did in Raleigh, it’s what I’m doing at Guardian Angel Investigations now.”

Cramer puffed up his chest. “I can handle it.”

Derrick grunted. “You’ve only been sheriff, what—three or four months? Have you ever worked a child abduction?”

Cramer gritted his teeth. “No, but I’m perfectly capable.”

“Then you’ll let me work with you,” Derrick said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Cramer and Derrick stared at each other for a tense moment, but finally Cramer must have realized the futility in arguing and excused himself to call the crime unit.

Derrick joined Brianna on the couch. “Brianna, we have to examine all possibilities. Finding out who Ryan’s father is may be the key.”

“There’s a baby brush upstairs,” she said, knotting her hands.

He touched her hand to calm her. “I’ll get it in a minute. But I need to ask you something else. Is there anyone in town who might want to hurt you by taking Ryan? Do you have any enemies?”

Her first instinct was to say no. But the memory of her encounter with Dana Phillips flashed back, and her gut clenched.

“You thought of someone, didn’t you?” Derrick asked.

Brianna hesitated. She hated to throw suspicion on one of her clients, especially one so vulnerable and desperate for a child. But that desperation could also prove to be a motive.

“Brianna, tell me the truth. Who are you thinking of?”

“This young woman I’ve been working with,” she answered quietly. “She and her husband have been trying to adopt, but we haven’t found a baby for them.”

“You think she might have kidnapped Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” Brianna replied. “I hate to accuse her and her husband. I’m supposed to be helping them.”

Derrick gripped her arms. “Listen to me. If they’re innocent, you can apologize. But every second we hesitate gives the kidnapper a chance to get farther away.”

She bit her lip but nodded. “Dana was upset with me yesterday. She wanted me to give her custody of Ryan. She said two parents were better than one.”

Derrick shot up from the couch. “Give me their names and address.”

Brianna scribbled down the information, her pulse racing. If the Phillips couple had taken Ryan, at least she knew he was safe, that they wouldn’t hurt him.

But if they hadn’t, then some madman might have Ryan.

And there was no telling what he might do.

Chapter Three

Derrick jogged up the stairs, found the baby brush, plucked a couple of strands of hair from it and bagged it to send to the lab.

He found a Q-tip in the bathroom, swabbed his mouth and placed the swab in another bag, hurried down the steps, then stopped in front of Brianna. “I’m going to call the tech specialist at GAI and place a trace on your home phone, and have him forward any calls to your cell as well so we’re not stuck here waiting.”

She nodded and gave him her home and cell numbers, then he stepped outside to meet the sheriff. “Cramer, will you send this to the lab with the CSI team and have them run the DNA for a paternity test?”

Cramer frowned but agreed. “Where are you going, McKinney?”

Derrick shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. “I just got into town. I have a couple of things to take care of.”

Cramer narrowed his eyes. “What kind of things?”

Derrick debated whether to tell him the truth. But if the sheriff showed up at the Phillipses’ door, they might panic and run. Unless they’d already left town…

He’d check them out on his own.

“I have to meet my boss before he leaves town. And I’m going to get a trace put on Brianna’s phone, and have her calls forwarded to her cell in case the kidnapper calls.”

“You’re working for Gage McDermont?”

Derrick nodded. “He and Leah are going on a second honeymoon. I need to fill him in on what’s happened.”

“You’re not holding out on me, are you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize this case.”

“Did Brianna give you some idea who might have kidnapped the baby?” Cramer asked.

He shook his head. “No. What’s your next move?”

Cramer glanced at the woods. “I’ll call in some deputies from the county and form a search party to check any abandoned houses and cabins in the woods.”

Derrick nodded. “I’ll ask Brock Running Bear from GAI to help with the search. Check the hotels, too.”