Deadly Secrets (37 page)

Agent Sabino nodded. “You’ll be the first I notify. I’m off to the lab now.” She touched his arm. “Your wife is one lucky woman, Mr. Kinncaid.”

He watched her walk down the hallway. To the doctor he asked, “You’re sure she’s fine?”

The doctor sighed. “For now, yes. As I said, I’m waiting on blood work and it shouldn’t be long. We put a rush on it.”

He nodded. “Thank you. How often, how easy is it for someone to do this?”

The doctor shifted. “Well, can’t say I ever remember something like this happening in the years I’ve been here.”

Quinlan let him walk away and ran a hand over his face. He knew he shouldn’t have left her.

Aiden whistled down the hallway and jerked his head for Quin. He walked to his brother. “What?”

“Older couple, came to see Ella. They’re really upset. I take it they’re the Richardsons.” He cut his eyes to the waiting room.

Quinlan sighed and walked to the elderly couple.

“Is she okay? What happened? No one will tell us anything,” Mrs. Richardson said.

“She’s fine. She’s resting. They’re running some blood tests to make sure, but they believe she’s fine.”

“What was all the excitement and cops and everything?”

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t about to tell them someone had possibly just tried to kill his wife. Instead he said, “I don’t know all the details, they’re working on it. I was in the cafeteria.”

Mrs. Richardson started to cry. “This is just all wrong. All wrong. We told her and told her to call you and tell you the truth. She was so worried and—”

He didn’t know what to say to them. “She did call, Mrs. Richardson, that’s how I knew to come.”

The little old lady blew out a big breath. “I’m sorry we weren’t here earlier. We would have been, but when we were almost here, we remembered something and had to go back.”

Mr. Richardson said, “I have something she gave me. A computer flash drive or something. We wanted to bring it. She told me weeks ago that if something happened to her to contact you and to give you this. I should have given it to you yesterday, but honestly, I forgot about it. She gave me your number.” The older bald man shook his head. “Just figured it was between you two and to stay out of it. Now I wish I hadn’t.”

So did Quin, but he didn’t say that. Aiden stepped in and thanked the man, even as Brody said, “I’ll let Ian know we have the flash drive.”

Quinlan introduced his brother and his cousin as he took the little purple stick with peace stickers on it. He looked at it and wondered what was actually on it and if he was ready to see it.

“Thank you,” he told them.

“We saw her for just a minute, the man by her door let us in when we told him who we were, though he stayed in the room with us. Walked us back out here. Nice man. Took off after someone though.”

“Carmine, they don’t care about that,” her husband told her.

“She’s so . . . she looks so . . .” The woman sniffed hard. “We were going to go back this evening, but I told Herb earlier we were going to wait here until she’s a bit better.”

He smiled and nodded. “That’s very kind of you. She spoke of you earlier.” He took the older woman’s hand and patted it. “Thank you for looking out for her when I couldn’t, didn’t . . . was just too stupid to come after her.”

Herb snorted. “I’m really starting to think you’re a better sort than I’d originally thought you were.”

“I don’t know about that. Look, if you do stay, let us know. I think it might help her . . .” He shook his head. “We’ve got rooms somewhere.” He looked to Aiden, who nodded. “You can stay with our crew, if you want.”

Mrs. Richardson smiled and patted his arm. “I think we’ll take you up on that. For now though, I’m just going to sit right over here and finish knitting the baby blanket.”

“Let us know if you need anything.” He left them in Aiden’s capable hands, took his brother’s laptop with him and went back down the hallway to his wife.

Chapter 26

Albuquerque, Sunday, late afternoon

The papers were signed and passed on to the parents. The DeSaros were all smiles and excitement. This was why he did this. Why he kept doing this. There were so many couples that couldn’t have children. Children should be loved and from two-parent homes. Parents that could love them and raise them the way they were meant to be raised and loved. Parents were meant to nurture and teach, to guide and lead their children.

So many that came through here were not able to do any of those. And when it was clear that the baby would be better off without the birth mother, then one must step in and fix that problem.

Problems.

One of the latest problems was the fact the cops were already sniffing at them. He had several messages from his partner wanting to know what the hell was going on, that the Retreat had been invaded by the feds and their headquarters in Albuquerque had been shut down, as has their outlying clinics.

Didn’t really matter. At least not to him just yet. He’d had this private office for years just for these sorts of transactions and meetings. Enough to give a personal touch, but nothing that couldn’t either be left behind or moved very quickly.

He focused on the couple in front of him.

The DeSaros smiled at the baby in the car carrier. “She’s so precious and . . . oh . . . and look at all that red hair!”

Mr. DeSaro laughed. “My mother had red hair. One of my siblings does as well.”

Another packet of papers was passed over for signatures between the lawyers. His own, who always worried—or at least until the bank deposit cleared—and the DeSaros’ legal representative. Everything must be legal, after all. Private adoptions could be sticky points.

Or at least look that way.

The baby mewled and squirmed.

“Can I pick her up?” the woman asked.

“Of course.”

Mrs. DeSaro, dressed in a Chanel suit and enough diamonds he lost track of calculating, reached down and unclicked the harness and picked the baby up, cupping her perfectly manicured hand around the tiny head.

“Ohhh. Oh my. Oh my, Vincent. Look. Look at our beautiful baby girl.” Tears trembled in her voice and her eyes. The woman simply sat on the floor and held the baby.

This was what it was all about. This was why it was so important to find the right ones. The ones that really wouldn’t be missed.

Though this last one didn’t quite fall under that umbrella.

Time to move this along.

Papers were quickly signed and finally the money was passed over. Quarter of a million dollars.

That was how much a precious bundle could cost.

Or at least that’s how much this little doll was sold for. The auction had lasted for almost two days. And at the end, the DeSaros were the ones that won.

It had been a bidding war the likes of which they’d only seen twice before. He’d planned to take care of Ella himself, but thanks to his ever-greedy partner, the option to use her child—the child he’d actually had up for auction—or replace it with another, had been taken from him.

“We want to stay a few days here in Albuquerque to make certain there are no problems,” Mr. DeSaro said, helping his wife stand and taking his own papers. Birth certificate, adoption papers, and medical records, changed accordingly.

And these records had to be forged on several fronts.

What a clusterfucking mess.

They needed to get it all cleaned up. First they had to be able to get to her and end her.

But she
knew
. The woman was still in the hospital. Of course, the cops had probably located the father and informed him. Who all had she talked to? What all did they now know, or wonder about?

Kinncaids—that family was going to screw this all up. He just knew it.

If only the stupid bitch had waited, he could have helped her, made less of a mess and cleaned up properly. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before.

He’d planned and waited for a child like this little one.

In no time, the DeSaros were laughing and crying and leaving. They’d taken pictures. His assistant had taken pictures. His secretary.

Everyone was very happy for the couple.

Most thought it was as legal as could be.

He, his lawyer, and Mr. DeSaro knew it might not be.

Mr. DeSaro stepped up to him, clasping his hand.

“I don’t want any trouble from this.”

He looked at the new father. “Do you think there could be trouble?”

“I know and you know, I bought this child.”

He merely looked at the man.

Mr. DeSaro didn’t so much as blink. Instead Mr. DeSaro pulled him closer. “I’m not a fool. None of us should have a problem. However, should one arise, do not think for a moment that I will let you take this child away from us. She’s ours now. My wife is smiling and happy as I haven’t seen her in years. If anyone comes looking and it’s between doing right and feeding you to whatever law enforcement agency might be inquiring, don’t for a second think I won’t serve you up myself. And then when you’re sitting in a cell, I’ll make certain you won’t have to worry about a long prison sentence.”

He cleared his throat, saw his lawyer rise from his chair. “The total amount of expenditures might be shocking to some, but to us, we know you get what you pay for. Those were just to cover medical costs and child care, along with our exclusive prenatal care in such a caring and peaceful environment.”

Mr. DeSaro nodded his salt-and-pepper head. “So long as we are clear. I will have my attorney double-check the paperwork with his firm to make certain there are no problems.”

He smiled at the man and now wished he’d chosen the other couple, as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. But no, watching Mrs. DeSaro with the little girl, he knew he’d chosen right. It wasn’t all about the money, after all. Just mostly.

Mr. DeSaro nodded and followed his wife from the room. Another man was with them and headed out.

He stood watching and smiled.

Who the hell did the bastard think he was? Really? He’d done them a favor. A godddamn favor and that was the thanks he got?

Then again, a quarter of a million was excessive, he supposed, but that was what the bidding reached.

The other family came in second at two hundred thirty-five grand. Apparently Mr. DeSaro wanted a baby girl for his wife. One from a good birth mother and father. Those were rare in his experience. The normal average Joe babies? Those were a dime a dozen. Babies born to impoverished teen mothers? Single mothers? More than he could keep up with. A baby born of an intelligent, beautiful woman? The father an affluent heir to a great family? A long line of looks and intelligence, of prosperity?

Those were very, very few.

So Ella hadn’t exactly
wanted
to give the child up, and the process had been rushed, he knew. Though with her on the edge of running, he supposed there was little choice. They just needed to deal with her once and for all. He needed to deal with Kevin and Lisa.

* * *

Ian closed the door and walked around the SUV, shutting Rori’s door. He knew better than to wish she would wait on him to help her from the car. He grinned at the thought.

“What has you smiling?” she asked as they crossed the street to the pueblo-style office building. The sun was already sinking against the peak of the mountains.

He’d learned there was another office, held by the corporation that kept cropping up in his search for buried information on the Nursery of Dreams.

“I’m surprised they’d meet us on a Sunday evening,” Rori said. “Aren’t they curious about someone wanting to meet on a day like today?”

Ian shook his head. “No. The fact I had this number seemed to be enough. He said they’d be in the office this evening anyway. It’s all relative, darling.”

She rolled her eyes.

Just as they reached the sidewalk he checked both directions and saw the car parked at the corner. Limo, dark tinted windows.

“That’s interesting.”

“Possibly.”

A man stood beside the door handing a diaper bag into the depths of the car, then he straightened, grinned and turned.

Ian stopped, he knew him.

What was the man’s name . . . Sicilian. Chicago man, in the hotel business as well. Wasn’t he?

De something.

Saro.

DeSaro.

The man merely tilted his head and climbed in, then the car drove away.

“What?” Rori asked him.

He stood there, wondering . . . The DeSaros were a powerful family in their own right. What was that man doing here? Other than adopting a baby.

He’d find out. For now, they had a meeting. Shaking it off, he said to Rori, “Not sure. Maybe something, maybe nothing.”

The DeSaros were as wealthy and prominent as his own family. They were out of Chicago, he thought, but he’d look them up. He’d recognized the man, as his family had done business with the DeSaros in years past, but it was unlikely the other man recognized him. He’d been away for a dozen years and still kept a low profile.