Deadly Secrets (35 page)

Quin was watching Jareaux, caught the slight flash of something in his eyes, before they narrowed and slid to the side.

Agent Sabino stepped up beside Quinlan. “Mr. Kinncaid, Jareaux will have no further contact with Mrs. Kinncaid. It will either be myself or Agent Landry.”

“Why? I thought he was in charge of this, she said he was the one she spoke to, the one that got her involved in all this.”

He finally turned from Jareaux and faced the female agent. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Agent Jareaux is needed elsewhere, we will be handling your wife’s case. Don’t worry.” She turned to Jareaux. “Agent, you’re wanted back at the office, should we send someone with you?”

Jareaux held her gaze for a moment. “No.” He rubbed his jaw.

“Good.” She turned back to Quinlan. “Mr. Kinncaid, it’s time we speak to your wife.”

“Fine,” he bit out. He stepped closer to Jareaux again. “In that case, stay the hell away from my wife.”

A muscle bunched in Jareaux’s jaw.

Quinlan took a deep breath and turned back to the doctor. Both Aiden and Brody held his arms, he didn’t remember them doing that.

“Perhaps your wife isn’t the only one who needs some rest,” the doctor said, slapping him on the shoulder. “One of you needs to be clearheaded, and we both know it’s not going to be her. After this interview, get some rest, Mr. Kinncaid.” They walked into the room.

Brody leaned in and said, “You know, with everything else going on, I’d rather not have to worry about bailing your ass out of jail for assaulting a federal agent.”

He cut his cousin silent with one look.

“I’m just saying,” Brody said and then moved to the back of the room. Before the door shut, Ian slid in.

“What did I miss?” Ian asked Aiden.

“Oh, our formerly laid-back youngest brother just decked the dick of the FBI agent in front of the cops and said agent’s colleagues.”

“Really? Did you take a photo?”

“Evidence is not what we need, guys,” Brody interrupted.

Quinlan listened as the cops, the one with the state police, asked the first question. Quinlan moved up and sat in the chair beside Ella, taking her hand. She turned her hand and laced their fingers.

“I thought I heard Jareaux’s voice,” she said.

“No, he won’t be talking to you,” he told her. “Agent Sabino will be, though, and the other agent, don’t know his name, can’t remember.”

She shifted. “I won’t have to talk to Jareaux? Good. He lied.”

“About what?” Agent Sabino asked, stepping closer, probably to better hear Ella.

“Probably everything,” she said, hardly more than a whisper. “The letters, he never mailed them to Quinlan. He told me I couldn’t tell anyone about the investigation and said you guys had to approve the letters I sent Quinlan so that the investigation couldn’t be compromised. I just wanted Quinlan to know about the baby. But Jareaux never mailed them. After talking to you on the phone, I realized he probably lied about it all, didn’t he? Was there even a real case?”

Agent Sabino cleared her throat. “How did you get involved with Jareaux?”

Quinlan stilled at the question.

“I wasn’t involved with the man,” Ella said. “I’m married.”

Sabino chuckled. “I didn’t mean . . . How did you start working with him?”

Ella sighed. “He kept coming to the studio wanting to talk to me, leaving a card. Finally, I called, to verify he was who he said he was. You guys confirmed he worked with you so I met with him at the coffee shop and he asked for my help.”

“Help with what, exactly?” Sabino asked.

“He said you guys knew I was working at the Retreat, wanted my help in watching things, making sure things were okay. Missing women, babies,” she muttered. “I was perfect to help you. I was working there and I was pregnant.”

“Okay, we’ll come back to how you got roped into it later. Right now, let’s go forward, all right? Our priority is your baby.”

Ella nodded against the pillows and kept hold of his hand.

More questions followed and she squeezed his hand tightly as more and more questions were fired at her.

He listened, nausea greasing his stomach as he listened to her tell of her friend Lisa showing up, of the tea on the couch, how she felt dizzy.

“What’s Lisa like? Tell us about her,” Sabino asked, making notes.

“Lisa Hammerstein.” Ella told them what she knew of Lisa. “I know she has a place in Taos, but I don’t know where, she never invited me over. We always went out and did stuff. Or I met her at the studio or at the Retreat.”

“Okay, so you remember being dizzy on the couch,” Sabino asked, easing them back to Ella’s kidnapping.

She nodded. “I remember looking at her, at the tea she’d made for me. I knew she’d put something in it and was wondering why.”

“Then what happened?”

“I woke up . . . I woke up and couldn’t move,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. “I couldn’t move.”

“Why?” someone asked.

She shook her head, her eyes glass. “Tied down, I think. Plastic. Tied with plastic.”

“Zip ties,” Ian muttered.

“She left me,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Who left you, Ella?” Sabino asked.

Quinlan bit down at the way she trembled, and yet her eyes were so flat. Bastards.

“Lisa. Lisa was there, she said they needed the baby, my baby.” She laid her hands on her stomach. “Or I think she did. It’s such a blur. Some things are clear and jagged, sharp. Others are just foggy, smooth, and I don’t know if they really happened or not. Like . . . like . . .” She shivered. “Fran. Like Fran. I think I know, but I’m not sure anymore.”

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing her arm gently. “Just tell them what you can.”

And she did, painting pictures in his mind he didn’t want, even as he’d wondered what the hell had happened for the last day or so.

“I was so tired by that point,” she said. “But for just a mo-moment.” She blew out a breath, tears running down her cheeks. “She was perfect. It was like the world stopped for a minute. I felt her on my stomach. Red hair, like Quin’s, but brighter, lighter. So tiny. So little. And a birthmark on her inner arm. Like me.” She held out her right arm and showed the little skin discoloration the size of his pinky nail that rested near her elbow. “All her fingers and toes . . .” She closed her eyes. “I could smell her, that perfect, absolutely perfect scent of baby. I kissed her head.”

No one said anything. She swallowed and opened her eyes.

“She took her. They took her.”

“Who else was there, Ella? Who else was with her?”

Her eyes glazed over again and she began to tremble. “I have to find her. I have to find her. They took her.” Tears flooded her eyes and rained down. “I need to get out of here. I need—” She strained to sit up, but even as she gripped his hand with hers, he knew she was weak.

“Who else was there, Mrs. Kinncaid?” the other agent asked, stepping closer.

Her eyes locked on the agent and flashed with aquamarine fire. “You. You didn’t help me. Jareaux said he was too busy with a new case. He got mad because I didn’t get him proof quickly enough after he said I was established and settled. He—”

Her breaths came faster.

“He promised me I’d be safe. I told him they wanted my baby! I told him! I told him! And they did, didn’t they?” She tried to yell, the muscles in her throat straining, but no more than a fractured whisper emerged.

“Enough,” the doctor said.

“I. Want. My. Baby. Find her! You have to find my baby!” she tried to scream. “My baby!” The doctor took a syringe out and attached it to the IV in her arm.

“Doctor,” the agent started.

The other cop put his hand on the agent’s arm. “We can start looking for Lisa again.”

“Ella, did Lisa say anything about the buyers?” the agent asked.

The doctor watched her monitors as she strained against Quinlan.

“Buyers? Buyers?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Not another word!” the doctor snapped. “Get out. Everyone out!”

The others filed out, clearly not wanting to piss off the doctor.

Ella cried against his chest until he again felt her relax. For several minutes he didn’t let go, his mind swimming with what she’d told them.

A blessed time had become a horror.

He closed his eyes, kissed her hair, and realized the doctor was talking to him.

“You can lay her down now,” the doctor said. “I think, considering everything, the nurse and I will check her over now. Why don’t you go get something to eat, Mr. Kinncaid. She’ll be out for a while. She needs rest and I think the cops have more than enough information to work with for today.”

Quinlan gently eased her back and touched her cheek. “I’ll be back,” was all he could manage.

He took a deep breath when he stepped out of her room, but that didn’t really help either.

Aiden and Brody stood there, leaning against the opposite wall. The nurse smiled at Brody as she passed.

“Where’d Ian go?” he asked.

“Followed the cops out. He seems pretty tight with the state guy, the local didn’t have much to say and the agents were in a hurry. Ian said he’d be back later. Lieutenant Ruiz, the state boy, said he wanted to cheer you on earlier but that wouldn’t have been appropriate. Apparently no one really likes Jareaux, who is always trying to get ahead. Ian was asking them questions.”

He frowned and then nodded, realizing what the man had meant. He raked a hand through his hair, trying to dispel the thoughts and images there.

Tied down. Trying to get away . . .

Quinlan blew out a breath.

“You okay?” Aiden asked.

“No, but I’m not about to crumble into a heap on the floor and into a fetal position,” Quin muttered.

Aiden scoffed. “I should hope not. I’d deny you as my brother if you did anything that weak. Kinncaids don’t fold. We stand. We fight.”

“And we damn well protect our own,” Brody added.

“If given the chance, you’re damned right we do,” Quin said. “How are Mom and Pops?” he asked Aiden.

“Well, neither are in the hospital. Gavin’s keeping an eye on them. Mom’s pissed and still ranting, he said. And Dad hasn’t said much.” Aiden grinned and licked his lips. “You were always so perfect and quiet.” He chuckled. “You just shot that all to hell. Mom just might not ever forgive you. And you did good with that federal asshole.”

Quinlan turned and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for just a moment.

“Come on. I’ll get us something to eat and drink. You didn’t have any lunch.” Brody motioned toward the elevators. “Doc’s right. Running yourself straight into the ground isn’t going to help anything. Nor will ending up in jail, just for the record.”

“I’m not hungry. Though I could use something to drink.” What, he didn’t know. He doubted there would be an energy smoothie here, and though coffee would help, if he drank another cup he just might get sick. His stomach could only handle so much. “Got any antacids?” he asked.

Aiden dug some out of his pocket and passed them over. “As Brody said, food.”

Quinlan looked back at the door and shook his head. “I shouldn’t leave her alone.”

Aiden jerked his head down the hallway a bit. There sat another man, vaguely familiar but Quin couldn’t place him.

“One of Ian’s men. Sent him over a bit ago to guard her room. If we’re not here, then he is. We’ve already cleared him with the admin and with the feds, state, and local boys, so come on. Sleeping Beauty will still be here when you get back.” Aiden slung his arm over Quin’s shoulders and pulled him along.

They passed the nurse’s station and the nursery. Another father stood there looking in, a tired smile on his face; even in profile his face held awe. He looked up and met their gazes. “Never gets old. This is our third, but it never gets old.”

Quin wouldn’t know and was past his patience limit. His leg was hurting, fate had his guts twisted and his air supply cut off, and someone had reached in and stopped his heart, or that’s what it felt like. He didn’t talk as they rode the elevator down and traversed the labyrinth of the older hospital corridors to the cafeteria.

“Why do they all smell the same?” Quin asked. “School lunches, college cafeterias, hospitals. It’s like . . . sour food and something. I don’t know what. But it’s hardly appetizing.”

“You want real food, too bad. However, it’s not that bad here, so order something,” Brody said.

He didn’t care what they ordered. “Just get me something. I don’t care what.” With that, he thumped his way over to a table and eased into a chair, rubbing his thigh. In a couple of minutes his brother and cousin joined him. Aiden set a bowl of soup and half of some sort of wrap in front of him, along with a cup with a bendy straw.

He picked up the wrap and bit into it. Whole-grain flatbread with crunchy veggies inside, and some sort of cheese. Worked for him. Without realizing it he downed it.

“Did you even chew?” Aiden asked him.

He nodded and opened the soup container, blowing on the steam.