Dylan and the Baby Doctor Read online

  “Take your time. I’ll cook,” he said. “Have you got eggs and bacon? Scrambled okay?”

  “Just toast for me.”

  “You need the protein,” he said decisively and headed for the stairs.

  Kelsey stared after him. She’d never had anyone around who showed the slightest inclination to take care of her. After all, she was a cool, competent doctor. Everyone knew she was the caregiver. Dylan apparently hadn’t caught on to that yet. But he would, she thought with a sigh. For now, though, it was rather nice to take a few extra minutes dressing and know that when she got downstairs breakfast would be waiting.

  Even if she wasn’t hungry. Even if she had no intention of eating it.

  Well, that was sweet, Delacourt, Dylan thought to himself as he marched back downstairs. Ogle the woman in her bath, why don’t you? But he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away. Kelsey was an attractive woman and that baggy T-shirt and shorts he’d seen her wearing earlier had done nothing to enhance her natural beauty. Out of those, with all of her on display, so to speak, it was evident that she was a sensual, voluptuous woman. What man wouldn’t look?

  One who was concentrating on his job, he retorted mentally.

  Kelsey James was a single mom whose boy was missing, not a potential pickup in some bar, he scolded himself as he went through her refrigerator, collecting eggs, bacon and butter. He found a pitcher of fresh orange juice and took that out, as well. By the time Kelsey joined him, he had breakfast on the table and his libido firmly in check.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t cast a surreptitious gaze over her—just to make sure she was handling things okay, he assured himself. There were shadows under her eyes and her complexion was pale, but beyond that she appeared to be in control.

  “Sorry about losing it for a minute upstairs,” she said.

  “Don’t apologize. You’re entitled to lose it every once in a while.”

  She glanced toward the phone, her expression forlorn. “Why doesn’t he call back?”

  “He will.”

  “The waiting is the worst. I’m used to being in charge, to being decisive. I make things better. I don’t just sit around waiting.”

  “Always?” Dylan asked skeptically. “Aren’t there times when even you can’t control the rate at which a patient responds to treatment? Haven’t you ever told a parent they just need to sit tight and wait?”

  She frowned. “Okay, yes. I guess the difference is that I know how long it’s likely to take for a medicine to kick in. I expect the delays. With this…” She shrugged, her expression helpless. “I don’t know anything.”

  “What would you tell the parent of a sick child?”

  “To be patient. To have faith. Pray.”

  “Don’t you think maybe the same thing applies now?” he suggested.

  Her expression brightened ever so slightly. “Yes. I suppose you’re right. Patience and faith,” she reiterated, as if he’d just given her a new mantra to recite. “Patience and faith.”

  She gazed at him then. “Thanks.”

  “Kelsey, let’s establish a couple of ground rules. No more thanks. No more apologies. Deal?”

  She nodded, started to say something, then cut herself off. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

  He grinned. “Caught yourself, huh? That’s a start.”

  “How do you stand it?” she asked then.

  Dylan wasn’t sure what she was asking. “What?”

  “Searching for a missing kid?”

  He hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to her, but for some reason he also didn’t want her to lose confidence in him. Funny, when a few hours ago he would have given anything not to be involved in this case.

  “I don’t do it often,” he said, choosing his words with care. “I usually prefer to turn this sort of case over to another private investigator.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not my area of specialty, that’s all.”

  She seemed shaken by that, just as he’d feared. “Then why did you agree to help?”

  “Because I was here and it’s best to get started immediately in a situation like this. There wasn’t time to get another private eye in here.” He leveled a look straight into her eyes, regretting the doubts that he had put there. “I won’t let you down, Kelsey.”

  She kept her eyes locked with his, then nodded. “I know. Is that why you seemed so—I don’t know—reluctant last night?”

  So she had noticed that, had she? He’d have to remember that she was good at reading people. She probably had to do that a lot with kids who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—describe what was going on with them. He realized now that he wouldn’t be able to hide anything from her.

  Because he didn’t want to get into the other reason for his reluctance, he took the easy way out and said, “Yes, that’s exactly why.” He rocked back in his chair. “But I’m in this now, Kelsey. We’re going to find Bobby and bring him home.”

  “You sound so confident. I wish I felt that way.”

  “Patience and faith,” he reminded her. “And a few of those prayers you like to recommend wouldn’t be out of order, either.”

  Paul couldn’t seem to sit still. He’d paced the motel room from one end to the other most of the night. That was the pills at work. They kept him on edge. If he’d been back in Miami, he’d have given up on sleep and gone back to the office, but he had Bobby with him now. He couldn’t go running off and leave the boy all alone in a strange place.

  He glanced over at the big double bed. Bobby looked lost in the middle of it. He was sprawled out, arms and legs going every which way, just the way he’d slept as a baby. To Paul’s regret, there were still signs of tears staining his cheeks. The kid was confused and Paul couldn’t blame him. He’d been all but snatched from his own backyard, hadn’t been allowed to say goodbye to his mother.

  There hadn’t been any way around that, of course. Paul couldn’t exactly walk into the house and announce that he’d come for his son. Kelsey would have driven him off with that high-and-mighty attitude she’d developed. He wasn’t sure when she’d become such a stickler for the rules. If she’d been a little more flexible, things would never have turned out like this. She could have written a few prescriptions for him and he wouldn’t have had to steal her prescription pads, then forge her signature to get what he needed. It wasn’t as if he were some sort of streetwise drug addict. He was in real pain. His broken wrist had hurt like anything. Just because it had healed didn’t mean the pain had gone away. Rainy days made it ache and in Miami, especially during spring and summer’s tropical cloudbursts, there were plenty of those.

  Besides, he had missed his son. He hadn’t expected to, but he had. Bobby had looked up at him as if he were the greatest guy in the universe. He was probably the only person who’d ever looked at Paul that way. Not even Kelsey had thought he was infallible.

  He’d gone to Texas on impulse. He’d planned on begging Kelsey for more pills. He’d figured she would balk at first, but eventually she would give them to him just to get rid of him.

  Then he had seen his son and everything had changed. He’d wanted Bobby, too. He’d wanted to feel ten feet tall again.

  It had been easy enough to get Bobby to come with him. The kid had been so excited by the prospect of going for ice cream with his daddy, he hadn’t even hesitated. Only later, when he’d started missing his mom, had things gotten dicey. Bobby had cried so hard, Paul had finally relented and called the house, even though he figured Kelsey had probably brought in the police and accused him of kidnapping. It had been a risk, but he’d watched the second hand on his watch to be sure he didn’t stay on the line long enough for the call to be traced.

  Even that hadn’t been enough for the kid. He’d wanted to go home. When Paul said no, Bobby had curled into a ball and eventually cried himself to sleep. Paul had felt about three inches tall, then, but it was too late to turn back. He needed those pills and he needed Bobby to get them.

  Another day or two an
d Kelsey would be frantic enough that she’d give him anything he wanted.

  Chapter Four

  When Dylan left Kelsey in Lizzy’s capable hands again at midmorning, he made a quick trip out to Trish’s for a shower and a change of clothes. Laura’s sunshine smile and eager greeting did as much to restore his spirits as the cool water and clean clothes.

  “Unca Dyl, I swing?” she asked, trying to tug him toward the play area in the backyard. “Pweeze.”

  “Not now, angel. Uncle Dylan’s got work to do.” He scooped her up and planted a couple of noisy kisses on her cheeks until she giggled. Then he handed her to Trish, who was studying him with sisterly concern.

  “Are you really okay?” she asked as she walked with him toward his car.

  “Hanging in there.”

  “Dylan, everyone would understand if you wanted to back off. I’m sure we could get someone else in here.”

  “Sorry, kiddo. I always finish what I start.” He skimmed a knuckle along Laura’s cheek, even as he thought of a little boy over in Houston he prayed was safe at home. “You keep a close eye on this precious little girl of yours. I don’t think I could bear it if anything happened to either of you. It’s times like this that remind us what’s really important in life.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to us, Dylan. And nothing is going to happen to Bobby. He’s with his father.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time a kid was mistreated by a father,” he pointed out. “Maybe that’s why Kelsey left him, because he was abusing Bobby.”

  “Not Paul,” Trish said with conviction. “Everyone says he was an okay guy, just not right for Kelsey.”

  He paused for a minute, intrigued by such a consensus of opinion from people who’d apparently never even met the guy. “Is that what everyone says? Who’s everyone?”

  Trish seemed surprised by the question. Her expression turned thoughtful. “Lizzy, I suppose,” she said slowly. “Several others out at White Pines. When Kelsey came here, that was what we were all told, that her marriage hadn’t worked out and she needed a change. No hint of anything other than a friendly divorce over irreconcilable differences.”

  Instinct kicked in and had Dylan wondering.

  “Does that sound right to you? Lots of people get divorced and don’t move halfway across the country, especially if they’re established in a profession.”

  “And lots of people want to put plenty of distance between themselves and the past. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a fresh start.”

  “Okay, yes,” he agreed. Although he was instinctively sympathetic with Paul James and wanted badly to buy Trish’s conclusion, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. “Think about this—Kelsey got full custody of her boy, not shared custody. Something had to be wrong for a court to do that, especially in this day and age, when a father’s rights are taken into consideration more than they used to be.”

  Trish didn’t look as if she’d been persuaded by his theory. “I suppose,” she conceded halfheartedly. “Maybe it wasn’t the court’s decision, though.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Maybe she and Paul worked it out between them. After all, they were both intelligent people. Maybe they just decided to keep the lawyers out of it and keep the hard feelings to a minimum. Then all the court had to do was sign off on their agreement, right?”

  He nodded. “I suppose,” he conceded as halfheartedly as she had a moment earlier. “It just doesn’t feel right to me, though.”

  “Face it, Dylan. It would never feel right to you if the mother got sole custody. That’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull. It’ll get you going every time. Even though in the end it was your decision to give up custody of Shane, not Kit’s, you blame her for it.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m biased on the subject. I admit it.”

  She regarded him curiously. “Have you told Kelsey about this particular bias?”

  He shrugged off a nagging sense of guilt. “It hasn’t come up.”

  “Dylan, you’re my brother and I love you. I think you’re an incredible, skilled, caring investigator, but don’t you think she has a right to know? She might conclude you don’t have the objectivity to handle this case.”

  “She probably would,” he agreed. “Which is why I’m not telling her. I’m all she’s got right now. She needs to believe I’m doing my best for her. She’s shaky enough without adding a whole lot of doubts about me into the mix.”

  Before his sister could respond to that, his beeper went off. He checked it, saw Kelsey’s number and used his cell phone to call her back. Lizzy answered on the first ring.

  “It’s Dylan. What’s up?”

  “Paul called again.”

  “Is Kelsey okay?”

  “She’s hanging in there.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He gave Laura another peck on the cheek, then added one for his sister. “I’ll check in when I can.”

  “’Bye. Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Checking his rearview mirror, he saw that Trish stood watching him until his car curved into the pine forest that separated the house from the highway.

  Maybe Trish was right. Maybe he should be telling Kelsey the whole story about Shane, letting her decide if she wanted him to stay on the job.

  Not just yet, though. There was time enough for that after he found out what had happened when her ex-husband called. Maybe luck was finally on their side.

  Kelsey was still shaking. She couldn’t seem to stop. The trembling started inside, in the pit of her stomach. She had to get a grip. Falling apart wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Bobby.

  He was still okay. Paul had given her a whole thirty seconds to make sure of that. Bobby had barely said, “Hi, Mommy,” when the phone was snatched away.

  “Paul, please. I want to talk to him,” she had begged.

  “Another time.”

  Every one of the questions she had prepared so diligently at Dylan’s direction flew right out of her head. She asked the first thing that popped into her mind. “Is he eating properly?”

  “We’re on vacation, Kelsey. He’s getting all the junk food he wants.” His tone was a mix of amused tolerance and familiar sarcasm.

  Kelsey was about to protest, when she saw the absurdity of worrying about whether Bobby was getting enough carrots and broccoli.

  “No argument? I’m amazed,” Paul said. “You were always such a stickler for the four basic food groups.”

  She let that pass. “What about clothes? Are you sure he’s warm enough?”

  “Kelsey, it’s summer in Texas. He’s plenty warm. If he needs clothes, I can afford to buy him some things.”

  “Of course you can. That’s not the point.” Tears welled up and she batted at them impatiently. “Paul, this is not a vacation and you know it. You’ve kidnapped him.”

  “Now that is not a word I like to hear,” he said, suddenly tense. “You haven’t called the police, have you?”

  She hesitated, then saw no point in lying. Obviously he’d already guessed that she had. “What else was I supposed to do when my son vanished from the backyard? Just let it pass and pray you were the one who had him?”

  “He’s our son, Kelsey. You might have custody, but he’s still my boy, too.”

  “Is that what this is about? Some belated sense of possessiveness?”

  “We’ll discuss it another time,” he said tersely and hung up before she could think of some way to stop him.

  “It wasn’t long enough,” she muttered, hearing the frantic note in her voice, the catch of a sob, and guessing that she was about to lose it again. She drew in a deep breath, fought for control, then met Lizzy’s worried gaze. “Call Dylan, will you? He needs to know about this. I need to get out of here for a second.”

  She had gone outside and walked around the block, then circled it again at an even faster clip. She wasn’t sure if she was running from something or just blocking out the pain. Either
way, she was breathless by the time she got back home again and Dylan was waiting for her on the front lawn.

  Seeing him there, his expression solemn, his gaze penetrating, she sighed with relief. She didn’t know exactly what it was about him, but as long as she could see him, she had the feeling that everything would turn out okay. Was that something a good private investigator learned how to do, to reassure the victims of crimes, to instill confidence, to radiate a rock-solid strength? Or was it unique to this man?

  “You okay?” he asked, his study of her face never wavering.

  “Just peachy,” she responded acerbically.

  “Okay, dumb question. Let’s get to the point,” he said briskly. “Tell me what Paul said when he called.”

  His quick reversion to strict professionalism calmed her. But then she thought back to the brief conversation and felt tears of frustration build again. “Nothing, dammit. I forgot all the questions I had planned, but he was so careful. He wouldn’t give me so much as a hint about where they are. He barely let Bobby say hello.”

  “Did Bobby sound okay?”

  Thinking of that sweet whisper of a greeting, she choked up and settled for nodding.

  Dylan tucked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze up. “He didn’t sound frightened, did he?”

  She thought about it. He’d only said a word or two, so it was hard to tell, but no, he hadn’t sounded scared. “Actually, no,” she admitted.

  He smiled. “See? He’s doing okay. He probably thinks this is just a big adventure with his dad. It’s the grown-ups back here who are scared, not your son.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” she said, clinging to it. As furious as she was with Paul, this could be so much worse. Bobby was fine. He just wasn’t where he belonged—with her.

  She met Dylan’s gaze. “Thank you for making me see that. I won’t stop worrying until he’s back here, but I’m not as panicked as I was.”