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  Screams and pain filled his mind again. He pulled her hands away, blood dripping down his forearm, and shook his head, trying to clear the dizzy fuzziness. “You don’t understand. She needs me.”

  “I do understand. And you can help her best by getting better.” Lanie’s soothing tone grated against his ears.

  “You don’t understand.” He snarled the words at her, and she stepped back, a startled expression crossing her face. “You can’t.”

  A nurse materialized at his bedside. She exchanged a glance with Lanie. “Mr. O’Reilly? Lie back and let me put your IV line back in.”

  Nausea and panic clawed in his throat. “No. I don’t need it.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “John.” Lanie’s voice slipped from soothing to authoritative, the tone he knew she used with recalcitrant suspects. “You are not leaving that bed. Now, you can either let her put the line back in, or we can strap you to the bed and then she can put it back in.”

  He glared at her, almost hating her for standing between him and Beth’s safety. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Her golden eyes narrowed. “Try me. Steve’s on the other side of that door, and I know he has his cuffs with him.”

  With a growled curse, he subsided and allowed the nurse to replace the line. His gaze remained locked on Lanie’s throughout the procedure, although dizziness attacked him again. When the needle was in place again, Lanie smiled grimly. “Now. What did you mean, he’ll kill her? Who is he?”

  Agitation crawled along his nerves. “Doug Mitchell. Beth’s ex-husband.”

  Startled confusion settled on her face. “I thought—”

  “I need to get the hell out of here.”

  “You need to rest. If you’ll be a good boy, I’ll go see if there’s any news, okay?”

  The brief struggle had exhausted him. The gray depths pulled at him, and he fought the sucking heaviness. He had to stay awake, had to help Beth. He had to—

  “Rest.” Lanie’s whisper and her gentle touch washed over him once more. “I’ll be right back.”

  The gray rushed in on him, and awareness vanished.

  Tears rushing to her eyes, Lanie sagged against the wall next to the recovery room door. He was alive, alert, and she should be thankful for that. Fear curled through her. She closed her eyes, pushing the tears down. Just reaction. And damn hormones again. Not because he’d lied to her about Beth’s past. Not because he’d asked for Beth first.

  “Lanie?” At the sound of Caitlin’s husky voice, Lanie opened her eyes. Sometime during the night, Caitlin had swapped the leather jacket she’d worn earlier for her black duty jacket with FBI emblazoned on the back in large, white letters.

  Hope flaring in her chest, Lanie pushed away from the wall. “Did you find them? Are they okay?”

  Caitlin wrapped her hand around Lanie’s. “Not yet. Deputies are searching the woods, and we’ve set up roadblocks. The Rangers from A Company are going door to door.”

  Lanie sank onto the bench against the wall. Confusion tightened her throat, leaving her voice a harsh whisper. “God, Cait, why is this happening? Where are they? John says Beth’s ex-husband did it, but there is no ex. She’s a widow. Beth told me her husband died.”

  “She lied.” A manila folder balanced on her knee, Caitlin sat next to her and pulled a mugshot from the file. She held the photo out for Lanie’s inspection. “This is Douglas Mitchell. They divorced four years ago.”

  The photo shook in Lanie’s grip. Malevolence glowed in the man’s dark eyes. “What was he arrested for?”

  “Domestic abuse. Assault. Child endangerment. Violating a restraining order. He jumped bail three years ago while awaiting trial in New York on those charges.”

  Lanie swallowed hard. “John said Beth’s life is in danger.”

  Caitlin nodded. “It was an ambush, very systematic. Beth’s car was tampered with, and there’s a second set of tire tracks on the shoulder, up the road from where the car died. He had to have been watching her to know what route she would take.”

  “Beth was armed. Why didn’t she—”

  “Fear does awful things to people. Trust me, she had reason to be afraid of this guy.”

  “He left John to die, to bleed out alone.”

  “From a graze wound? I don’t think so. The previous assault charge stemmed from an altercation between the two. According to the NYPD report, O’Reilly interrupted Mitchell’s attack on Beth.”

  Caitlin’s odd tone sent shivers along Lanie’s stripped nerves. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing.”

  Lanie cupped her fingers around the bulge of her stomach. The baby lay still, and a detached part of her mind remembered reading that infants slept in utero. The idea of her baby sleeping, protected from the chaos around him, comforted her. “You’re a lousy liar, Cait. Now what don’t you want to say?”

  “If Mitchell wanted John dead, he had the opportunity to kill him instantly. He chose not to.”

  “But—”

  “Tell me about John’s relationship with Beth.”

  The shivery unease intensified, and her fingers tightened on her stomach. She remembered whispering of her love to John as he awakened, and his first thought had been of Beth. That was only natural under the circumstances. It didn’t mean anything. “What relationship? They’re partners.”

  “Is that all?”

  Anger curled along her skin, pushing the apprehension aside. “Damn it, Cait, what are you implying? They work together. Show me partners that aren’t close friends.”

  “When John stopped Mitchell’s attack on Beth, they were sharing an apartment.” Caitlin pulled a copy of a report from the file.

  “You just said she’d left an abusive marriage. He’s her partner—maybe she went to stay with him.”

  Caitlin shook her head, and Lanie turned away from the sympathy lurking in Caitlin’s green gaze. “In New York, maybe. When they went to work for the El Paso P.D., they rented the apartment together. Both names were on the lease.”

  “God, what did you do, wake the landlord?” She held onto the anger, using it as a shield.

  “Yes, I did, and he wasn’t happy about it. They leased the place for a year, until Beth moved here. O’Reilly resigned from the El Paso P.D. a couple of months later and rented an apartment in Houston until he moved in with you.”

  Lanie pushed to her feet, pacing to the window. Uncertainty pulsed in her throat. “So maybe there was a relationship beyond the partnership. Obviously it’s over.”

  “Obviously,” Caitlin agreed, her voice quiet. Lanie spun, glaring at her.

  “What does it matter now? John’s alive, you have a suspect, and you’ll find Beth and Nicole. He can’t leave the county if the highways are blocked, so what’s the point of all this?”

  “I’m not sure he plans to leave at all.”

  Oh God. Lanie closed her eyes. Caitlin’s quiet words conjured awful images. “You think he’s going to kill them, don’t you?”

  “He left John alive for a reason—to punish him, maybe, because Beth preferred him. If he kills Beth, she can’t want anyone else. And O’Reilly has to live with the aftermath.”

  They were already living with the aftermath. She opened her eyes to stare at her cousin and lifted a trembling hand, rubbing at her temple. “Why did Beth lie about being divorced?”

  Caitlin shook her head, a frown furrowing her brow. “I don’t know. She took back her maiden name, but she wasn’t trying to hide her whereabouts.”

  And John had perpetrated the lie as well. He’d never mentioned a romantic entanglement with his partner, either. Her teeth took hold of her lower lip in a punishing grip, and she rubbed her thumb over the infinity pendant. A shiver traveled down her spine. What else didn’t she know?

  I’ve got to find Beth… She needs me… He’ll kill her.

  John’s words rang in her mind. Right now, what she didn’t know could wait. Beth and Nicole’s safety couldn’t. “Cait, we’ve go
t to find them before it’s too late.”

  “I know. I’m heading back out in a few minutes. I wanted to check on you, and I’d like to talk to O’Reilly if he’s awake. He may be able to give us a focus.”

  Lanie glanced toward the window, thinking of Beth and Nicole, somewhere out there in the darkness. Nicole’s bright smile swam in her memory. Surely he wouldn’t hurt his own daughter? Urgency surged through her, and for the first time in eight months, she wished she weren’t pregnant. Without the burden of her baby, she could be out there, helping.

  She wanted Beth and Nicole safe. Their safety had to be the first priority, but with their safety would come answers to the questions pounding in her brain. The thought filled her with a fascinated dread.

  John had never said he loved her. He whispered how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was to him, but never that he loved her.

  And you never said you loved him, either, not until tonight. That didn’t mean the emotion wasn’t there.

  Other uncertainties rushed in, filling the void of unanswered questions. His lack of interest in their child. The forgotten doctor’s appointments. The nights she woke alone, to find him standing at the window, brooding and staring out at the waves.

  Had he been thinking of Beth? Wishing he were free of Lanie and his unborn son?

  A sob strangled in her throat. She’d thought she had everything—John, his love, their child. The suspicion that she had nothing crept into her mind.

  Stop it. Just stop it. Later, there would be time to sort everything out. Right now, the focus had to be on Beth and her daughter. Dragging in a deep breath, Lanie met Caitlin’s gaze and swallowed hard against the lump lodged in her throat. “He was awake just now. He…he was upset. He even ripped out his IV line.”

  “I’ll keep it short.” Concern shown in Caitlin’s eyes. “Do you want me to take you home?”

  To that empty house now filled with doubts? Lanie shook her head. “No. I want to stay here. I’ll try to catch a nap later.”

  Caitlin’s gaze flickered to Lanie’s rounded stomach and away. “You should think about—”

  “I’ll be fine.” Her voice sounded harsh, and she concentrated on smoothing it out. “I don’t sleep well now anyway. Dr. Shaw says that’s normal. I’ll rest, I promise.”

  “Do you want to come in while I talk with him?”

  Lanie shook her head. “No. I think I’ll go find a vending machine and get some juice or something.” Food held no appeal, but not taking care of herself wasn’t an option.

  “Okay.” Caitlin smiled in reassurance, her hand rubbing over Lanie’s upper arm. “I’ll be right out.”

  Even a slight smile made her face ache. Lanie leaned against the wall, eyes closed. “Take your time,” she whispered.

  “Lanie?”

  Her eyes snapped open at Caitlin’s soft question. When she saw the knowing concern in the dark green gaze, her self-protective defenses kicked in. “Don’t worry about me. Go talk to John and find out what you need to know.”

  “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not true.”

  She had no doubt Caitlin knew what was in her mind but damned if she’d admit it. Old habits—and old competitions—died hard, and allowing anyone to see her weakness wasn’t an option. “Right now, I’m thinking you’re wasting precious time.”

  “You’re not your mother.”

  Why did Caitlin always have to go straight for the jugular? No dancing around a subject, no time to prepare. “I know that.” Who was she kidding? Why bother to lie now? “But I’ve made the same mistake, haven’t I? He loves someone else.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Oh, please. You didn’t hear him when he woke up.” Bile pushed in her throat as the reality of John’s reaction set in. “I’m in love with a man who loves another woman, and I’ve trapped him with a pregnancy. Oh my God.”

  “It’s not the same. Your mother set out to get pregnant so she could have your father. You didn’t get pregnant on purpose—the birth control failed.”

  What did that matter? Lanie laughed, repulsed by the harsh sound. “Want to hear something ironic, Cait? An hour ago, I was worried this baby wouldn’t have a father. Now I wish… God, I wish there wasn’t even going to be a baby.”

  Horror tightened Caitlin’s features, the skin around her mouth pale. “Don’t say that.”

  Lanie ran a hand over her burning eyes. “I won’t allow this baby to grow up like I did, with a resentful father.”

  “Lanie, you don’t even know that he’s resentful. You—”

  “He is.” Forgotten appointments. A crib he had yet to put together. Cases that came before childbirth classes. Another woman’s name on his lips. The defenses crumbled, and she fought back tears. “I thought he was getting used to the idea, that he loved me and would love our baby… God, how could I not have seen this?”

  “Because you loved him and you didn’t want to.” With the soft whisper, Caitlin hugged her. “It’s amazing what we can hide from ourselves.”

  For just a moment, she let go of the need to be invincible and clung. “What am I going to do?”

  A light touch brushed over her hair. “You’re going to be strong. You’re going to be the mother you wanted to have.”

  Chapter Three

  “Detective O’Reilly?” The husky female voice pulled John from the sea of gray again. Surrounded by a cookie-cutter hospital room, he felt more alert, more whole. More pain, he thought, rotating his injured shoulder in gentle circles.

  The woman standing over him looked familiar, although he was certain he’d never seen her before. Black hair, green eyes, a determined, pointed chin. Something about the curve of her mouth struck him—he knew that mouth. He swallowed, his throat dry. “Yeah?”

  She held up FBI credentials. “I’m with the FBI’s Child Abduction and Serial Killer Unit. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  The letters on the identification swam before his eyes, then solidified into words. Falconetti, Caitlin. He met her cynical gaze, the familiarity explained by the name. Lanie’s perfect cousin. Hell, she would turn out to be a Fed. Right now, though, he was glad to see her. Maybe that meant Beth still had a chance. “You want me to help you get into Mitchell’s head.”

  “Anything you can tell me would help.”

  That meant laying out the entire tangled mess—to Lanie’s cousin. Lanie would never understand. Regret rose, replacing for a swift moment his concern for Beth. He shifted, his shoulder and his ribs screaming in protest. “What I say stays in this room.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she pulled a small, leather-bound notebook from her jacket pocket. “What you say will be used to help us find your partner and her daughter. Whatever needs to be said between you and my cousin will be your responsibility later.”

  He attempted to moisten dry lips with an even drier tongue. Caitlin watched him a moment then handed him a small foam cup of ice chips. “That should help. And if you have a reaction to the pain killer, they won’t make you throw up.”

  She sounded as though she relished the prospect. John let an ice chip as cold as her voice melt on his tongue. She didn’t like him. That was okay—he didn’t like himself much right now, either. “Do you have any leads?”

  “Not many. A gas station attendant tentatively identified Mitchell as a man who’s bought gas on several occasions over the past few weeks. An agent is reviewing the station’s security tapes.”

  John cursed, dragging his hands over his face. “So he’s been here that long, watching her.”

  “Probably watching all of you.” Accusations hovered in her voice. “Why did Beth lie about him, tell everyone he was dead?”

  Tension tightened his jaw. “Because that’s what she wanted to believe—that he was gone and the past was behind her. She wanted to think she was safe.”

  “Okay, that I get. You know what I don’t understand, O’Reilly? Did you think this guy would just go away? That he’d just forget the whole thing?”


  “Why do you think I came down here? To keep her safe.”

  He’d done a lousy job, too. She didn’t say it, but the implication was there in the way she arched one eyebrow at him. “What about Lanie?”

  “What about her?” He wanted to call the sarcastic rejoinder back. A CASKU agent, she was probably Beth and Nicole’s best chance. Pissing her off wasn’t a good idea.

  “She didn’t need to know there was a possibility this maniac would turn up?”

  Uncomfortable heat rose on his neck. “Lanie was never in any danger.”

  “Really? I don’t think Beth Cameron is the only one who wants to deny reality. How long did you say you’d been a detective?”

  The insult clenched his jaw, and he forgot about not pissing her off. “Just ask your damn questions, Agent Falconetti.”

  “Mitchell believes his wife left him for you, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he does. She left him because he was abusive, but it’s easier for him to blame me.”

  She scratched a note on the pad, and then her gaze flickered to his face. “Were you involved?”

  He shifted his gaze away. “That came later. Beth… She was scared and alone.”

  “And you were her knight in shining armor.” Sarcasm clipped the words.

  John bristled. “Are you always so antagonistic when questioning a witness?”

  “O’Reilly, you haven’t seen antagonistic yet.” She lowered the notepad, pinning him with a stare. “I’m trying to ignore for the moment that you exposed Lanie to danger.”

  “Damn it, she’s not in danger!”

  “This from the guy who let down his guard enough to allow someone to take his service weapon. Mitchell left you alive for a reason—he thinks you’re to blame for the failure of his marriage. He’s been here for God knows how long, obviously surveilling you. He has to know about Lanie and your involvement with her, has to know she’s pregnant, and you don’t think she’s in danger? I figured you for a selfish jerk, but I didn’t think you were stupid. Hell, was I wrong.”