The Baby's Guardian (5 page)

“Gavin Cunningham’s a client,” she explained to the other officer. “And yes, he’s persistent. I’m head of an organization called Rootsfind that helps adopted and foster kids locate their biological families, and he wants
me to help him find his father. Please tell him I’ll call him in a day or two.”

“I already told him you weren’t available, but he said it was a matter of life or death.”

Sabrina and Shaw had already started to walk away, but that stopped them. Shaw stared at her, apparently waiting for an answer.

But Sabrina didn’t have one. “Gavin called yesterday and sounded frantic and stressed. He said that he needed me to find his father immediately. He wanted to meet with me right then, but I had other appointments. I told him I’d see him today. That obviously didn’t happen because I was taken hostage.”

“Well, he asked me to give you his number, just in case you’d forgotten it.” The officer reached in his pocket and extracted a notepad-sized piece of paper with the number on it.

“Thanks. I’ll call him on the way to the hotel.”

“You think it’s that critical to call him back tonight? Because it can wait,” Shaw added, not giving her a chance to answer. He nudged her to get her moving and continued to read the papers the officer had given him. “Unless you think it’s possible this client is suicidal?”

Sabrina gave that some thought. “I didn’t see any warning signs that he’s contemplating suicide.”

“Right,” he mumbled.

She didn’t miss the accusing tone. Shaw seemed to be saying—
as if you’d recognize those warning signs.
She certainly hadn’t with Fay. “He’s just a little more obsessed than most about finding his father.”

Sabrina knew something about that, as well. Since she’d been adopted at birth, she’d spent most of her life
looking for her biological parents. She’d failed. And it was the reason she had created Rootsfind. Sometimes, the desire to find those DNA roots just burned hotter in some people.

Shaw folded the papers that Officer Newell had given him, and he led her out of the building and into the open parking garage where there were dozens of police vehicles. “I know you’re tired, but I need you to think back to the person who called you about that moms’ support group meeting?”

“Michael Frost,” she supplied.

“You’re sure that’s who called you?”

“Positive. Why?”

“Because according to hospital records, they don’t have an employee by that name.”

Oh, mercy. Had this man been in on it? Had he lured her to the hospital? “I thought something was strange about that call. I mean, he made the meeting sound like an emergency, as if Nadine were in some kind of trouble.”

“You didn’t phone Nadine first to try to verify what was wrong?”

“No.” And she suddenly felt stupid for not doing just that. “Shaw, I’m sorry. Because I didn’t follow my instincts about that call, I put the baby in danger.”

Other than a sound in his throat that could have meant anything, or nothing, he didn’t react. “This Michael Frost called you on your cell phone?”

“No. The office line.”

“Then I’ll have it checked for all incoming calls. We might get lucky.” He got her inside one of the vehicles and drove away. “Stay low in the seat,” he instructed.

That got her heart pounding again. “What if the gunmen are lurking around out here, watching us? What if they try to follow us?”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. That’s why I’ll have to drive around for a while even though the hotel is just up the street.”

She had no idea how long
a while
would be, but maybe she could get some things done. Important things. She’d ignored her instincts about the call from Michael Frost, but she wouldn’t do that with Cunningham.

“Could I use your phone to call Gavin?” she asked Shaw. “Just in case he does have suicide on his mind.”

Shaw took out his phone and passed it to her, her fingers grazing his. For some reason, that tiny touch packed a wallop, and it took Sabrina a moment to gather her breath.

“Or maybe I shouldn’t use your cell because your name will show up on Cunningham’s caller ID,” she reconsidered.

“That phone is clean, only the number will show up, and he won’t be able to trace it back to me or SAPD,” Shaw explained. He took a turn and kept his attention fastened to the rearview mirror.

Sabrina nodded again and pressed in the numbers. Gavin Cunningham answered on the first ring. “This is Sabrina Carr,” she greeted. She, too, checked the mirrors to make sure no one was following them.

“Thank God you’re all right,” Gavin said immediately. “When I saw the hostages on the news, I thought of you. And I tried to call you, but there was no answer at your office or your home. You must have been scared to death.”

She debated how much she should say and settled for, “I was rescued.”

“Good. That’s good.” He paused. “Can we meet?”

She didn’t have to debate that. “No. I’m still tied up with police business. I called because you told Officer Newell it was a matter of life and death, that you had to speak to me. Gavin, what’s going on?”

He paused so long, but she could hear his breathing. It was fast and uneven. Maybe Shaw had been right about Gavin being suicidal, and just in case he was, she pressed the speaker function so that Shaw would be able to hear the rest of the conversation. “I can’t talk about this over the phone,” he finally answered. “I just need to see you.”

Sabrina ignored that request. “Where are you right now?”

“At my house,” he whispered. “You can’t come?”

“No.”

“All right, then. Sorry I bothered you. I’m sorry about everything.”

And he hung up.

Shaw cursed, took the phone and punched in some numbers. “Officer Newell,” Shaw said to the person he’d called. “I need someone to do a welfare check on that Gavin Cunningham, the man who kept calling Ms. Carr. He’s at his residence, and I want someone over there immediately. Let me know what you find out.”

Shaw brought the car to a stop beneath the canopied entrance of the Riverfront Hotel. There was a man dressed in a suit in front, apparently waiting for them, and he got into the car and drove away after Shaw and she exited. Shaw ushered her inside the lobby where
another person, probably a plainclothes officer, handed Shaw a room key.

“I’m still not safe, am I?” she asked as they got on the elevator.

“You are now.” Shaw didn’t say another word until the elevator stopped. He didn’t waste any time. He hurried her to the room and got her inside.

“Get some sleep,” he said, pointing to the only bed in the small room. He closed the door.

Sabrina glanced at the bed, at the small no-frills standard hotel room, and then at him. “Will the officer in the lobby be able to stand guard outside my door?” Suddenly, the thought of being alone—and unprotected—was terrifying. She slid her hand over her belly.

“No.” And Shaw didn’t add anything to that for several long moments. Then he reached back and set both locks on the door. “The officer is arranging to have some clothes and toiletries sent up, and then he’ll report back to headquarters. We’re short staffed on the investigation. There are a lot of witnesses to interview. A lot of women who’ll need protection.”

“Including me,” she mumbled.

He nodded. “I’ll be staying with you. Until we catch the gunmen, you’ll be in my protective custody.”

Sabrina’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to stay here, with me,
alone?
”

The muscles stirred in his jaw. “Yeah. Now get some rest.”

Fat chance of that. “But you must have a ton of work to do. Surely someone else can do this.”

Even though she wanted Shaw to be the one. Well, sort of. She knew he’d do anything to protect the baby,
and that was a huge plus, but being in such close quarters with Shaw would only make her remember that he was indeed a
hot cop.

Sabrina cursed herself. Damn hormones. Through much of this pregnancy, she’d been thinking about Shaw, and she hadn’t thought of him as her baby’s father, either. But as a lover.

As if that would ever happen.

Still, her hormones had persisted.

Like now, for instance.

Yes, she was so tired she could hardly stand, but she felt the trickle of heat go through her, and she wished they were friendly or intimate enough for him to hold her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You’re breathing hard.”

“Am I?” Sabrina tried to fix that, but she didn’t think she was successful. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

And she got away from him as fast as she could. She used the facilities and went to the sink to wash her hands and toss some cold water on her face.

“He’s Fay’s husband,” she reminded herself. But her body only reminded her that Fay was dead, and her friend would have been the last person to want Shaw and her to stay apart.

Take care of Shaw for me.

That was the message Fay had left on Sabrina’s answering machine. The moment Sabrina had come in from work and heard the weakened voice and the slurred words, she’d known something was horribly wrong. She’d tried to call Fay, of course, but it was already too
late. Shaw had answered the phone to say that Fay had just died in his arms.

She blinked back the tears, and the old memories. Shaw had been so angry. So hurt. Heck, he was still angry and hurt after all these months.

The baby kicked, a flurry of flutters, and she smiled in spite of the mess she’d made of her life. Then, she braced herself and went back into the room.

Shaw glanced at her, but he didn’t have time to say anything because his phone buzzed. “Captain Tolbert,” he answered.

Since this would likely be the first of many calls about the investigation, Sabrina went ahead and kicked off her shoes and pulled back the cover. She was so tired she could fall asleep despite the circumstances.

Shaw’s expression had her rethinking that.

“Repeat that,” Shaw insisted. Several moments went by before he barked, “Find him.”

“What’s wrong?” Sabrina asked, but she was afraid to hear the answer. There’d already been so much bad news.

Shaw shoved his phone back into his pocket. “A unit arrived at Gavin Cunningham’s place a few minutes ago. The door was wide open, so the officer went inside.”

Sabrina held her breath. “Is Gavin dead?”

“No. He wasn’t there. Neither was his car, and the neighbor said he sped away about a half hour ago. He was going so fast that he knocked down the neighbor’s mailbox, and he didn’t even stop.”

Even though that didn’t sound good, many things could have caused him to do that. A family emergency.
Or a sudden illness. But judging from Shaw’s expression, it was neither of those things.

“He left a note,” Shaw added, “for you.” He walked closer and eased down on the bed beside her. He met her eye to eye. “Sabrina, just how well do you know this man?”

She shook her head and held her breath. “Not well at all, only what I’ve already told you. Why? What did the note say?”

“Gavin Cunningham said he was sorry, that it was his fault you were taken hostage.”

The sound woke Shaw.

His eyes flew open, and he sat up from his slumping position in the chair. In the same motion he reached for his gun, which he’d placed on the nightstand. His training and experience caused him to expect the worst.

An intruder.

Or the gunmen who’d escaped.

The lamp was still on in the far corner of the room, so he had no trouble seeing that there were no intruders or gunmen. Sabrina and he were very much alone, but she was no longer sound asleep as she had been that last time he’d checked on her. She was fighting with the comforter and sheets.

“Owwww!” She got out from beneath the covers and tried to stand.

“What’s wrong?” Shaw jumped up from the chair. “Are you in labor?”

She shook her head, but her face was twisted with pain. “Foot cramp.”

He glanced down and saw that the toes on her left foot were rigid. “Put some pressure on it,” he suggested,
and he looped his arm around her waist so he could help her keep her balance.

Shaw forced himself to calm down, but it wasn’t easy. He’d braced himself for a fight, and even though he was glad there wasn’t one, it would still take him a while to absorb the jolt of adrenaline.

Sabrina adjusted her weight, so she could press her foot to the floor, and all the while she continued to say “owww.”

“Pregnancy,” she grumbled. “I get these stupid things every night.”

Every night? Sheez. Shaw actually felt sorry for her.

And guilty.

He had no idea she’d been going through this. He’d read about possible pregnancy symptoms, of course, but he just hadn’t made the personal connection between Sabrina and those symptoms. With her squirming and groaning in pain, it was an eye opener.

So was Sabrina, for that matter.

The clothes she’d worn while a hostage were now bagged and in the corner ready for pickup. She was dressed in a white cotton gown that the department had scrounged up for her.

Thin, white cotton.

Not at all meant to be provocative, but on her pregnant body, it hugged every inch of her, including her fuller breasts and bottom. Yes, she was pregnant, but that didn’t stop him from responding to her.

And that made him feel even guiltier.

Sabrina was hands-off in every sense of the word.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, her face relaxing a little.

They were hip to hip, with his arm slung around her, and she glanced down at the physical contact between them.

“Sorry.” Shaw moved away. “I didn’t want you to fall.”

“I wasn’t complaining. Actually, I was savoring the moment.” But then her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that. Uh, I’m not really sure what I meant. It’s just been a while since I’ve had a man’s arm around me, that’s all.”

Since Shaw didn’t know what to say to that, he settled for, “Yeah.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she splayed her hands on her belly. “You’re probably thinking it would be impossible for a man to get his arms around me, right?” She chuckled, but the humor was just an attempt to diffuse the situation.

Shaw needed it diffused. He could see the outline of her nipples, and he felt that tug below the belt. It was a basic male reaction, he assured himself, and he told that tug to get lost.

Sabrina sat back down on the bed and shook her head. “Yeah, I know. I look disgusting.”

“No. You don’t.” Shaw decided to leave it at that.

She seemed relieved, or something. Her face relaxed anyway. “I have stretch marks. Three of them. Four,” she added after a shrug. “Sometimes, I don’t think my body will ever go back to normal.”

“It will.” Shaw wanted to hit himself. He didn’t know much about this pregnancy stuff and should just shut up.

So that he’d do just that, he looked back at the laptop
he had sitting next to his chair. It’d been delivered along with Sabrina’s gown and toiletries, and Shaw had been using it to get updates throughout the night. It was nearly 6:00 a.m. so a new update should be arriving shortly.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m so happy to be pregnant,” she continued. “I mean, this baby is a miracle as far as I’m concerned. And trust me, I’m a big believer in miracles.”

She groaned again, and that drew Shaw’s attention right back to her. Sabrina was looking down at her belly.

“My miracle is awake,” she mumbled. “And playing soccer with my kidneys.”

Shaw looked at her belly, too, and saw the movement. He shifted to the edge of his chair for a better look. “I can actually see the kicks.”

“Oh, yes. You can see them.” She laughed. It was rich and thick as if she was sharing his amazement, though she no doubt experienced this many times a day.

Sabrina reached out, latched on to his hand and pressed it against her stomach.

Shaw almost pulled back. It was an automatic response when it came to Sabrina. But the baby moves stopped him. That was his baby inside her. A miracle, indeed. And he or she was kicking like crazy.

Amazed, Shaw looked up at Sabrina. Their gazes connected. She was smiling, and Shaw realized he was, too.

Her smile hit him harder than a heavy weight could have.

He drew back his hand. He drew himself back as well and moved deeper into the chair so there’d be some
distance between them. This was such an incredible moment, and it was a moment he should have been sharing with his late wife.

Not Sabrina.

“Right,” Sabrina mumbled. Her smile vanished, and she didn’t roll her eyes, but it was close. “This is about Fay.”

“Don’t,” he warned, certain there wasn’t a trace of his smile left, either.

“Don’t,”
she repeated. She got up, started for the bathroom, but then stopped. She kept her back to him. “I miss Fay, too. I miss her every minute of every day. And every one of those minutes I hate myself for not cramming those antidepressants in her mouth. Or for not being there when she overdosed and took her life. I don’t need you to punish me, Shaw, because I swear to you, I’ve done a pretty good job of punishing myself.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Hell.

Shaw felt lower than dirt. Yes, he was still angry with Sabrina. Always would be. And he would always put some of the blame for Fay’s death on her shoulders. But after what Sabrina had been through in the past fifteen hours, she didn’t need him adding to her stress.

He went to the bathroom door and knocked. “I’m sorry.”

The words seemed foreign to him, and he realized why. It was the first time he’d ever said those two words to Sabrina. It had been so easy to hang on to his anger and hurt when she’d been out of sight, but with her right on the other side of that door, and probably crying, Shaw
knew he was soon going to have to come to terms with her and the baby.

But how?

How did he come to terms with having Sabrina in his life when having her there felt as if he were betraying Fay?

He heard the water running in the sink, and several moments later, the door opened. She ducked around him, dodging his gaze, but he saw the red eyes.

Yep, he’d made her cry.

Maybe he should just hit himself in the head with a rock. It might make him feel better.

“What’s the latest on the case?” she asked.

Shaw didn’t really want to have the conversation he was about to launch into, but it was time to clear the air. Well, partly. He just needed to get Sabrina and him to a place where…where…

But he couldn’t finish that.

He just didn’t want all this emotion eating up the air between them.

Shaw caught her arm and turned her around to face him. “This baby is a miracle for me, too,” he told her. “I want to be a father. Always have. And it doesn’t matter that we’re not…friends…or whatever, we’ll make this work.” He frowned, not liking the sound of that.

And why the hell was he hemming and hawing?

He wasn’t the hemming and hawing type.

“We’ll make the
shared custody
work,” he amended.

She nodded, and her chin came up. He recognized that gesture and knew it was all for show. He also saw the tears that still watered her eyes.

“Pregnancy hormones,” she complained and swiped away the tears.

Shaw mumbled another, “Hell.” And before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled her into his arms much as he’d done in the car after he’d rescued her from that abandoned building.

But this was way different.

In the car, they’d been side by side. Now, they were face-to-face. The baby was between them, of course, but it was still body to body contact. That contact got even closer when her head dropped to his shoulder. She whispered something he couldn’t understand, didn’t
want
to understand, and her hot breath hit against his neck.

That tug below his belt became a strong pull.

Oh, man.

It’d been months since he’d had a woman, and his body was reminding him of that.

Sabrina slid her arms around him, drawing him closer. He gritted his teeth but didn’t back away. He owed her a little TLC. But it wasn’t TLC that kept going through his mind.

Was traditional sex even possible when a woman was eight months pregnant? Heck. He didn’t care if it was traditional. His body was starting to suggest other possibilities.

“Yes,” he heard Sabrina say, and for one heart-stopping moment, he thought he’d asked that traditional sex question aloud.

Shaw pulled back and looked at her.

She looked up at him. Frowned. Then, cursed. “Yes, I’m aroused,” she whispered as if confessing to a murder. She glanced down at her nipples, and with the thin, snug
cotton, he could see those nipples were puckered. “Sorry about that.”

Again, he was speechless. But not numb. Hell, he was aroused, too.

“It’s the pregnancy hormones again. Foot cramps, crying spells and the libido of a teenage boy. A libido I haven’t acted on, by the way.” She turned away from him again and groaned. “And I’m so sorry for telling you that. Don’t worry. I’m not asking you to do anything about it.”

Too bad. His body was ready to help her out, even though his mind was pulling him back. But Shaw knew from experience that a man’s mind rarely won out in situations like this. If this had been any woman other than Sabrina, he would have tested the logistics of having sex during the last trimester of pregnancy.

“What’s happening with the case?” she repeated.

He just stared at her. Or rather he stared at her backside. And the air continued to stir, hot and thick, around them. And hot and thick was exactly how he felt.

“Any news about my client, Gavin Cunningham?” Sabrina pressed, obviously determined to have a
normal
conversation. She took her replacement shirt from off the end of the bed and put it on over her gown.

Shaw shook off the effects of his own suddenly raging libido so he could get his mind on anything but the thought of what it would feel like to be deep inside Sabrina.

“We still haven’t been able to find Gavin,” Shaw finally managed to say. “Have you come up with any possible reason why he would think it was his fault that you were taken hostage?”

She downed some water from the bottle on the nightstand. “This is a stretch, but maybe he knew the gunmen. He said nothing to me to indicate that, but I can’t come up with a connection between a Rootsfind client and what went on at the hospital.”

Shaw thought about that a moment. “What exactly did Gavin want you to do for him?”

She shrugged as if the answer were obvious. The shrug caused her shirt to shift, and he got another peek at her nipples.

Shaw looked away.

“He wanted me to find his birth father,” Sabrina explained, “and he gave me all the normal details—his place and date of birth. His mother’s name. She was a single mom and died young without revealing who his father was.”

“You said Gavin was persistent, more obsessed than most about finding his parent. Why? Had something changed recently in his life? Like maybe he needed bone marrow or something?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t mention that, but I suppose it’s possible. Still…” She paused. “I got the feeling this was more personal than medical. He seemed angry that his father hadn’t made himself known.”

Interesting. It might not be connected to the case, but Shaw would dig deeper. He wanted to learn why Gavin felt responsible for Sabrina being taken hostage. That might be the key to solving all of this.

“I’ve been getting updates throughout the night,” Shaw explained. “That nurse, Michael Frost, called at least two of the other hostages, Willa Marks and Bailey Hodges. Neither was part of the moms’ support group,
but he told them their doctors had gotten back critical lab results and that they needed to come to the hospital immediately.”

Sabrina made a sharp intake of breath. “So, it was a trick. And I fell for it.”

Shaw didn’t want her to go back to beating herself up. Hell, he probably would have fallen for it, too. “Is it possible that Michael Frost was one of the gunmen?”

She stayed quiet a moment. “The breath mint guy did most of the talking, and he didn’t sound like Frost. Of course, he could have disguised his voice.”

Absolutely. Shaw was looking into that, too, but it might be a dead end since none of the messages had been recorded.

Shaw sat in the chair across from her so they could be eye to eye. And wouldn’t be touching. “Do you know if you had anything in common with Willa Marks or Bailey Hodges, the other two women that Frost called? Maybe you met them before the hostage situation.”

Again, she paused, and her forehead bunched up while she stayed deep in thought. “I don’t think so. I heard the gunmen calling out for someone named Bailey, of course, but this is the first I’ve heard of Willa Marks. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met either of them.”

There might still be a connection that could come out later. For now, he needed as many solid leads and facts as possible.

He took some paper from the briefcase that’d been delivered with the laptop, and handed it and a pen to Sabrina. “Why don’t you start writing down your statement? I’ll arrange to have us some breakfast delivered.”

The sun had barely come up, but his body was already screaming for caffeine. And sex. It wasn’t going to get the sex, but he could do something about the coffee.