Dylan and the Baby Doctor Page 4

  “Which firm?”

  She named one of the biggest.

  “Still there?”

  “As far as I know.”

  He made a note, then nodded. “Go on.”

  “One of Paul’s clients was a doctor at the hospital where I was in med school. We were just finishing rounds when he came in for an appointment to go over the man’s portfolio. The doctor got called away on an emergency so he asked me to take Paul to the cafeteria and keep him company until he could get there.” She regarded him wearily. “How is this helping? It’s ancient history.”

  “Trust me. It will. So, was it love at first sight?” Dylan asked.

  “Hardly,” she said with a touch of wry humor. “I thought he was way too full of himself. A lot like you, in fact.”

  Dylan shrugged off the jibe. It wasn’t the only thing he and Paul James had in common. He wondered how she would feel if she knew the truth about that.

  “And?” he prodded.

  “I never thought he would look twice at me.”

  “Why?” Dylan asked, genuinely incredulous at the suggestion that she wouldn’t catch a man’s attention.

  “Let’s just say I was a very bookish student. I didn’t spend a lot of time with my appearance. He was very slick, very handsome, the ultimate yuppie. When I was studying, I was lucky to remember to put on lipstick and matching socks before I went out the door.”

  Dylan tried to reconcile the image she was painting with the woman seated across from him. He couldn’t. Even in her shorts and T-shirt, her feet in sandals, she radiated both inner beauty and confidence. Her hair framed her face with the sort of tousled curls a man’s fingers just itched to untangle. She had a scattering of freckles across her nose, but otherwise her complexion was near perfect. And those eyes—a man could sink in their glittering sea-green depths and go down for the third time happy. A sudden rush of heat told him he needed to avoid spending too much time gazing into those eyes.

  “If you two were such a mismatch, how did you wind up together?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with apparent bemusement. “Somehow we just clicked. Not overnight. It took a few weeks, but suddenly everything changed. Then things moved very quickly. We got married, moved into an old Coral Gables house that had great history and lousy plumbing and then Bobby came along. I was doing my residency in pediatrics by then.”

  “Sounds stressful. Was your husband a big help around the house?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Paul? You have to be kidding. The only thing he did was hire a nanny, then race off to the office. I don’t know what you know about being a resident in a trauma center, but the hours are hell. Paul’s were worse. Into the office before the market opened to get a jump on things, out with clients after Wall Street closed to celebrate the victories or solidify the relationship.”

  Dylan thought back to Kit’s complaints about his work habits. More than once, she had accused him of being an absent husband and father. It sounded as if in the James marriage the two of them had shared the blame.

  As if she sensed his disapproval, Kelsey said, “We did the best we could.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you did,” he said perfectly aware of the note of sarcasm that had crept into his voice.

  Bright patches of color flamed in her cheeks. “You don’t approve of me, do you, Mr. Delacourt?”

  Dylan was surprised that she had called him on it. So the lady had a temper, after all. And good instincts. Maybe that could work to his advantage. He’d rather have her fighting mad than docile and defeated. He deliberately shrugged. “It’s not my job to judge you,” he said, careful to imply that he did just the same. “All I care about is finding Bobby.”

  After an instant’s hesitation, she nodded. “Good. Then we can agree on that, at least.”

  He bit back his amusement at the tart tone. “You don’t approve of me, either, do you, doctor?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t care what sort of foul-tempered beast you are. All I care about are results. You find my son and you will earn my undying devotion.”

  Dylan studied her thoughtfully. “Now there’s a thought to make a man’s heart go pitter-patter.”

  “Anything to motivate you,” she retorted just as dryly.

  For the first time in what had been a very grim couple of hours, Dylan actually found something to laugh about.

  “You and I are going to make a helluva team, doc.”

  Startled, she stared. “A team?”

  He nodded. “From now on, you and I are going to stick together like glue.”

  It was the only way he could think of to be sure she didn’t do something crazy to get her son back.

  Chapter Three

  Even as the words came out of his mouth, even as he mentally tried to justify them, Dylan cursed himself for the impulsive suggestion that he and Kelsey team up. Wasn’t it enough that he was already operating cheek-by-jowl with a sheriff? Now he wanted to add an amateur into the mix. He was breaking every one of his long-standing, ironclad rules tonight.

  Maybe it was because she’d purposely baited him, deliberately tried to establish boundaries. Hell, he liked boundaries. Loved them. And now he was pushing at them as if he couldn’t wait to see them topple.

  Oh, he recognized it for what it was. It was a male-female thing and this was definitely not a male-female situation. This was a job and he did not involve amateurs, especially clients, in his work. They lacked skill and objectivity, damned dangerous shortages. There went another hard-and-fast rule. Obviously, he’d lost it. He figured it had to be the eyes. He was a sucker for sad, sea-green eyes.

  Truthfully, though, Kelsey didn’t seem any more pleased by the idea than he was. In fact, she looked shocked.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked, regarding him with justifiable wariness.

  He decided to back off in a hurry, just for the moment, not as if he were running scared, but just to establish a few of his own boundaries. There were things she could do to help…just not in the same place he was heading.

  “Right now I’m going to the police station to run some checks. I want you to sit tight here. Make a list of questions to ask your ex when he calls. If he puts Bobby on the line, even for a second, ask what he’s had to eat. Maybe he’ll say something about a burger place we can trace or maybe he’ll mention a specific diner. Ask what the room looks like or what he can see. Kids notice more than we give them credit for. And in case your husband is listening, try to make it sound as if you’re just interested in hearing how Bobby’s getting along. Know what I mean?”

  Chin up, she nodded. “I think so. Post-preschool conversation, right? The sort of thing we’d talk about over milk and cookies?”

  “Bingo. You catch on quick.”

  “Believe me, I am highly motivated.” For an instant she looked lost again and very, very frightened. “I can’t mess this up. I just can’t.”

  Dylan tried to steel himself against the sympathy he was feeling. Still, he couldn’t seem to prevent himself from giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t. You’re doing fine, Kelsey.”

  She was, too. He was impressed with her despite himself. She was bright and tough. Love for her son, concern for him, radiated from her, but she hadn’t allowed herself to give in to hysterics except for that one brief moment after her ex-husband’s call. Nor was she giving in to Dylan’s pressure to reveal whatever secret she was determined to keep. He didn’t like it, but he had to admire her tenacity in clinging to whatever misguided principle she felt was so important.

  He figured, though, that he’d gotten everything from her he could for the moment. He needed some distance to sort through what he’d learned, put it into perspective, and maybe get some cold, hard facts about Paul James from the computer at the sheriff’s office.

  “Want me to clear out some of these people before I go?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “They just
want to help. Lizzy will get them out later.”

  Another woman who could manage a small nation if she put her mind to it, he thought wryly. Lizzy had the Adams strength, as well as the family’s fierce loyalty and protectiveness. He was definitely leaving Kelsey in good hands.

  He ripped a piece of paper from his notebook and jotted down his beeper number. “If anything turns up, if you get another call, if you think of something, or if you just need to talk, call me.”

  She took the paper, holding it as tightly as if it were a lifeline. “Thank you.”

  “Get busy on those questions,” he reminded her. “Be ready, in case he calls back.”

  “I will.”

  Dylan found himself fighting an odd reluctance to go. He knew there were better uses for his time, but he wanted to stay right here, offer whatever comfort he could. But Kelsey didn’t need comfort from him. She needed his help in finding her son.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said and headed for the door, tucking his notebook into his back pocket as he went.

  At the small but well-equipped sheriff’s office, he was greeted by the dispatcher, who’d clearly been expecting him.

  “Justin said you could use anything you need,” Becky told him. “The computer’s in his office. We’ve got several lines, so you won’t be tying things up if you need to make calls. Don’t worry about charges since you’re making ’em as part of a case we’re handling. You need anything, holler. There’s coffee in here by me. It’s strong and there’s plenty of it.”

  “Thanks. I think I will have a cup. It could be a long night.”

  She poured it into a mug and handed it to him, then grinned. “Part of the service this time. After this, you’re on your own.” She winced as the radio screeched static. “Whoops! Got to go. I swear Billy Ray does that just to shoot my nerves to hell.”

  Dylan went into Justin’s office and settled into the chair in front of the computer. He flipped through his notebook until he found the instructions Justin had given him for logging on. For the next few hours, he searched for any trace of Paul James, any mention of him no matter how insignificant. Credit information showed a man who paid his bills, mostly on time. He had no police record. There were no mentions of him in the Miami press.

  He got on the phone and called a contact who could trace any credit-card activity. He woke the man out of a sound sleep, but by dawn he had a callback. Paul James wasn’t using his credit cards, at least not so far. His last charge had been made a week ago, in Miami. He’d bought three new suits on sale at an upscale department store.

  “Anything?” Justin asked, coming in and dropping wearily into the chair opposite Dylan. He looked as bad as Dylan felt.

  Dylan shook his head. “Nothing. The credit-card trace was a bust, though I have to wonder why a man who planned on kidnapping his son would go out and buy three expensive new suits.”

  “Maybe he figured his next shopping trip would be a long time coming,” Justin suggested.

  “Or the sale was just too good to pass up,” Dylan said lightly.

  Justin’s expression turned thoughtful. “Almost sounds like a man who doesn’t intend to be gone all that long, doesn’t it?”

  “He can’t be planning to take his son back to Miami,” Dylan protested. “He’d go straight to jail for violating the custody agreement.”

  “Right. So, either he is just trying to scare Kelsey, or he wants something from her, or we’re dealing with a nutcase who has no intention of taking his son anywhere except away from his mother.”

  “To punish her,” Dylan said, following Justin’s logic with a sick feeling in his gut. “I hope to heaven you’re wrong about that.”

  “So do I,” Justin said. “So do I.”

  “Kelsey, you have to get some sleep,” Lizzy said at dawn.

  “I can’t. As long as I don’t know where Bobby is, I can’t sleep. What if he calls again?”

  “I’ll wake you,” Lizzy promised.

  “No. I don’t know how Paul will react if someone else answers the phone. He might hang up. He might get angry and hurt Bobby.”

  “I just don’t see him hurting Bobby,” Lizzy countered. “That hasn’t been his pattern, Kelsey. It’s the one thing I don’t think you need to worry about.”

  “I can’t help it. He sounded so edgy before. If he’s been out of pills for a couple of days, he’s probably in withdrawal. People do crazy things when they’re coming down, things they otherwise might not do. Even the fact that he took Bobby in the first place is out of character. Paul never broke a law in his life until he got hooked on the painkillers. I never even saw him jaywalk. Heck, he’d dash two blocks just so his parking meter wouldn’t run out. On the rare occasions when he got a parking ticket, he paid it the same day. Now he’s violating a court order. That’s the pills at work.”

  Already jittery from nerves and lack of sleep, she jumped when the phone rang. She snatched it up. “Bobby? Is that you?”

  “Sorry,” Dylan said. “It’s just me. I wanted to check in.”

  “Oh,” she said, sighing heavily.

  “Anything happening over there?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Not a wink.”

  “Kelsey, you’re not going to do Bobby any good if you collapse. If you don’t want to go to bed, at least nap on the sofa for a bit.”

  “I can’t,” she said simply. “Have you found anything?”

  “Not yet, but I will,” he said with reassuring confidence. “You just hang tight. Is Lizzy still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me talk to her a second, okay?”

  Kelsey handed the phone to Lizzy, then listened openly to her end of the conversation. Lizzy’s gaze settled on her and she nodded several times, murmuring agreement to whatever Dylan said. Kelsey figured she was the primary topic of conversation.

  “I’ll try,” Lizzy promised before hanging up.

  “I suppose you’re to try to get me to get some sleep,” Kelsey said.

  “He has a point. I was saying the very same thing before he called.”

  “I can’t sleep,” Kelsey protested.

  “I could give you something.”

  “Absolutely not,” Kelsey said, horrified. After all, it was pills that had gotten them where they were now. The tranquilizer she had agreed to take the night before was one thing, but sleeping pills were another. Add in something to wake her back up again and she’d be on a roller-coaster. Who knew where it would end up? She could be in worse shape than her ex.

  “You’re not going to get hooked like Paul,” Lizzy said, as if she’d read her mind.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you don’t have the same kind of obsessive personality he has.” Lizzy clasped her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. “Sweetie, you need some sleep. If and when Paul does call again, you have to be thinking clearly. You can’t be all strung out with exhaustion.”

  “And I can’t be groggy with sleep, either.”

  Lizzy uttered a sigh of resignation. “Okay, at least go take a nice, warm bath.”

  Kelsey didn’t want to leave the phone for a second, but she could see the sense in Lizzy’s suggestion. A bath might relax some of the tension. And she would feel better in some fresh clothes, more in control.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “But I’ll take the portable phone up with me.”

  Once she got upstairs, she considered taking a nice, invigorating cold shower instead, but the lure of a bath was more than she could pass up. She filled the tub with bubbles and sank into it up to her chin. The scent of lilacs, a distant memory from childhood summers in Maine, surrounded her. The water felt wonderful lapping gently against her skin. Her eyes drifted closed.

  A soft tap on the bathroom door snapped her awake. Glancing down, she had just noticed that the bubbles were also a distant memory now, when the door inched open and Dylan poked his head in.

  “You okay in here?” he asked, h
is gaze settling on her face for an instant, then drifting down.

  Kelsey felt her nipples pucker under the intensity of his stare. A gentleman would have turned away, but he seemed to be frozen in place. There was enough heat in his gaze to warm the now-chilly bathwater. She couldn’t seem to muster up the required indignation. Finally, he swallowed hard and backed out.

  “I’ll be out here when you’re dressed,” he said, his voice sounding choked.

  As if her brain had finally clicked into gear, it registered that he wouldn’t be there unless something had happened. Kelsey scrambled from the tub. Without bothering to dry herself, she pulled on a heavy terry-cloth robe and belted it as she flung open the door. Dylan was standing guard just outside, leaning against the wall.

  “Why are you here? What’s happened?” she demanded, standing toe-to-toe with him.

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s okay. Nothing’s happened. I just came over to relieve Lizzy for a bit. She said she’d sent you up to take a bath. When you didn’t come back down, I thought I’d better check on you.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?” she asked, still shaky.

  “That’s all. I swear it. If we find out something, I’ll tell you,” he promised, his gaze locked with hers. “I won’t hide anything.”

  “Even if it’s bad?” she insisted.

  He nodded. “Even if it’s bad.”

  She believed him. There was something in his expression, something in the way he held her that made her believe that Dylan Delacourt would never lie to her. She had the feeling he was the kind of man who told the unvarnished truth, even when it was painful. She found that reassuring.

  “Sorry I overreacted,” she apologized.

  “Sorry I intruded on your bath,” he said, though the glimmer in his eyes suggested otherwise.

  Disconcerted by the attraction that was totally inappropriate given the circumstances, Kelsey backed up a step. Dylan allowed his hands to fall away from her shoulders. She almost regretted that, but she faced him squarely.

  “You look like hell,” she observed. His cheeks were shadowed with the beginnings of a beard. He looked exhausted. “Give me a minute to get some clothes on and I’ll fix breakfast. You can tell me what you did all night.”