The Homecoming (13 page)

“Boast about what?” Levine prompted.

“He told me about a number of kidnappings he committed on his own before we met. He stole babies from wealthy couples, demanded ransoms and then didn't return the babies as he promised. He kept both the ransom and the children, then turned around and resold the kids to people who wanted to adopt.”

“Making money on both ends of the deal,” said the detective grimly. He rattled a piece of paper. “I have a list here of babies up and down the West Coast that vanished during the years Prescott might have been doing this. Will you look it over and see if there are any specific names he mentioned, or even if you know he was in the cities in question during those times?”

Everett nodded. “Sure. But I only know a few names. I'm sure there are at least a dozen I never heard details about. Later, when he was too afraid he'd get
caught, he switched his tactics again. He started taking babies from young, usually single mothers living on welfare or just scraping by.” He took the list and began to peruse it, occasionally picking up a highlighter that the detective provided and noting something that looked familiar. “You know, people who might not get as much attention from law enforcement as wealthy couples do.”

The cop had the grace to wince.

“How will this help?” Nancy asked.

“We've tracked down one of the guys who used to supply Prescott with fake paperwork,” the cop explained. “If Mr. Baker recognizes anything here, we may be able to match it with some of the adoptions that were made.”

“You mean you'd be able to get these babies back?” Nancy's eyes lit up.

The cop looked at the federal agent. “Yeah,” said Delane. “It's possible that we might find some of them. But it's going to be one unholy mess, since I'm sure a lot of them have adoptive families who love them just as much now.”

“Oh my,” Nancy said in dismay. “This is a big mess, isn't it?”

“You don't know the half of it.”

“Daniel Crosby?”
Nancy, the agent and the detective were brought up short by Everett's exclamation as the familiar name leaped off the page at him.

The cop looked at the name to which Everett was pointing. “Yeah. Heard of him? Crosby Systems ty
coon, child abducted four years ago right here in Portland?”

“Oh, God.” Everett's face was the color of the piece of paper. “Danny Crosby was my best friend. He was there the day I got taken. If this is the same man…”

Nancy had brought a hand to her lips in dismay. “Then he's endured
two
kidnappings,” she said in distress. “Why did you highlight that name, Everett?”

His whole body was shaking, and he felt completely sick to his stomach. “The date and place connection. That wasn't too long before I met Charlie and I know for a fact he was operating in Portland then. But if this is the baby he snatched, it didn't go like all the others.” He shook his head, concentrating to recall every detail. “He had some girlfriend at the time who ran away and took the kid and the adoptive people's money along with her. Charlie said, and this is a direct quote, ‘It took me awhile but I tracked her down and fixed her ass.' He said he never found the money or the kid, though. He was pretty furious about it for a long time.”

“Do you remember the woman's name?” The detective looked as if he were having a hard time staying calm.

Everett shook his head. “Mary? Marie? I don't think…
M
something, though. Margaret! No, Margo. I remember it was unusual. But I don't know a last name.”

“Jesus.” Delane rubbed a hand over his face. “Looks
like your pal Charlie was into more than just kidnapping.”

“Margo.” The cop was scribbling it down. He rose from the table and both he and the agent started from the room. “Don't worry about the last name. I think you may have given us exactly what we needed.”

As the two men left the room, Nancy looked at Everett oddly. “You remember your best friend?”

The words shocked him as he realized that he did indeed remember Danny. “Yeah,” he said with a touch of wonder. “I do. But half of it may be stuff I dreamed up. It's hard to say.”

“Your parents could tell you,” Nancy said. Her hazel eyes were steady and clear.

“I…yeah,” he said. “They probably could. But I doubt they'd want to meet me now.”

“Don't bet on it,” she told him. “If my child had been kidnapped and found almost thirty years later, there's no power on earth that could stop me from seeing him again.”

My child
… He didn't mean to ask such a personal question, but the words popped out before he could stop them. “Do you want children someday?”

She looked into his eyes and smiled, the special smile that he'd begun to realize was only for him. “Oh, yes. Having children with the man I love would make my life just about perfect.”

He nodded. But he couldn't bring himself to ask her to clarify that statement. Was it just a figure of speech, or was there someone specific she had in mind? He
hoped so, more than he'd ever hoped for anything in his entire life.

And he hoped that someone was him.

 

Danny met Sydney at the door the following afternoon. She could see Nick at the kitchen table, happily slopping away with some water-soluble paint on butcher paper.

“Hey,” he said. “How was your day?”

“Fine, thank you. How about you two?” Be friendly and polite, nothing more, she reminded herself. Danny had made it clear the day before that all he wanted was to get his son and get back to his solitary existence.

“Our day was great. I'll let Nick tell you about it. But first, I have a favor to ask.”

She raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “A favor?”

“My brother, Trent, has invited us for dinner. He and his wife, Rebecca, are dying to meet Nick. They'd like you to come, too. I didn't remember you already knew them until Rebecca mentioned it. Will you come?”

She was taken aback. “But we haven't told Nick yet—”

“They know that, and they'll be circumspect.” He paused. “Trent was at the hospital the day Noah was born. He paced the waiting room like it was
his
kid, and he was the first person who got to hold him after Felicia and I. He's really anxious to see him.”

She couldn't say no to that. But she wanted to. Oh, she wanted to.

She didn't want to visit with members of Danny's family, even with a friend as dear as Rebecca, whose husband had memories of Nick older than her own. She just wanted to take her son and run away and hide forever.

The thought shocked her. What was she thinking? Nick had been taken from Danny once already. She could be gracious about this. She would be. “You don't really need me there at a family gathering.”

“I'd like you there,” Danny said quietly. “Please.”

Rats. How was she supposed to resist that? Especially when those beautiful blue eyes were watching her so intently. Did he know that she had no defenses against him when he needed her? “All right. What time?”

 

They arrived at Trent and Rebecca's home shortly before seven. She'd given Nick a snack, since they'd be eating later than he was used to. The last thing she wanted was for him to show his cranky side.

She'd known Trent Crosby before she'd met Danny, but until she saw them together by Trent's front door she'd never thought about what a resemblance they shared. Trent was a scant inch taller than Danny and his eyes were a warm brown rather than blue. Nick had inherited the family looks, too.

Trent's eyes widened slightly the moment he saw the small boy by Sydney's side. He blinked rapidly several times and a muscle ticced in his lean jaw, and she realized he was fighting strong emotion. He cleared his throat and knelt before Nick. “Hey there,”
he said, extending a hand just as if Nick were fifty rather than five. “I'm Trent Crosby. What's your name?”

“Nicholas Aston,” Nick said. “And this is my mommy. Her name's Sydney an' her last name's the same as mine.”

Trent's lips twitched and his taut features relaxed. “That's a good thing,” he pronounced. “Would you like to come in, Nicholas Aston?”

Nick giggled and his blue eyes shone as he started across the threshold. “You can call me Nick.”

A slim, pretty, dark-haired woman came into view then. “Hello,” she said to Danny. “I'm Rebecca. Hey, kiddo!” She knelt and hugged Nick. “How was your visit with Gramma?”

The evening went far better than Sydney had expected. Trent apparently had been excited about his nephew's visit. He'd run out to a local toy store and bought an obscene number of brand-new toys, gadgets and building sets. After a few minutes of conversation, both Trent and Danny got down on the floor and helped Nick build a detailed city with an elaborate train track running through it.

“I'll get dinner ready while the children are playing.” Rebecca smiled as she stood.

“May I help?” Sydney followed her into the kitchen. Despite the fact that she and Rebecca were friends, had known each other for some time, she felt awkward and out of place now that she knew for certain these people were her son's family.

“You can put salad in those bowls, if you really want to help.” Rebecca pointed toward the counter. “Or you can sit there and drink your wine and tell me all about how you broke your big news to Danny.”

Sydney headed for the salad bowls. “What would you like to know?”

Rebecca laughed. “Everything.” Then her brown eyes grew serious. “But I'll settle for how you're doing with all this. I can't even imagine learning that my child belongs to someone else.”

“Someone who wants him back,” Sydney said baldly. She sighed. “That came out badly. I don't want to deny Danny his son. I feel terrible for the years he lost, and…everything else.”

Trent's wife nodded. “You mean Felicia. I never met her but Trent's told me. I guess she made Danny happy, but Trent never really cared for her. He said he always thought she seemed emotionally fragile. You do know how they met?”

Sydney nodded. “At the rehab place he went to after his suicide attempt.”

Rebecca nodded. “She was there for the same reason. Only she'd tried it three times before.”

Dear Lord. A recipe for disaster, Sydney thought, subjecting someone that fragile to the stress of losing a child to kidnapping. She blew out a deep, resigned breath. “One of the reasons I don't have the heart to make this difficult—more difficult—for Danny is because of what he's been through. Losing both his child and his wife in the space of a year…”

“I admire you,” Rebecca said. “I couldn't do what you're doing.”

“Yes, you could,” Sydney began, but Rebecca shook her head.

“No. I couldn't.” She took a deep breath and tears shone in her eyes. “You know what the miscarriage did to me. And to Trent. If I ever have a child of my own, I'd kill anyone who tried to take him from me.” She put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Sydney, I'm sorry. I know I'm too blunt, and this is none of my business.”

“I don't mind. It's actually a relief to talk about it.” Sydney gestured toward the living room. “But that's just it. Yes, I love Nick as if he was mine, but he isn't. Danny didn't choose to give him up, and it would be wrong of me to fight to keep him. And don't think I haven't thought about it,” she added wistfully.

But Rebecca still was shaking her head. “I understand what you're saying. Intellectually, I even agree. But here—” she tapped the area right over her heart “—I could never let him go. If I'd raised him, I'd do anything to keep him in my life, biological claims or not.”

“Hey! We've got three hungry men in here. How's the kitchen crew doing?” Trent's voice interrupted the sober moment.

“Go wash your hands,” Rebecca called back. “This stuff is ready to put on the table.” As she headed for the dining room with a platter of roast chicken that she'd just finished slicing, she stopped and met Syd
ney's gaze with compassion. “When this all gets settled, you know you can always use my ear if you need one. And my tissues,” she added with a wry grimace.

N
ick was just about asleep on his feet by the time they got home at nine-thirty. Sydney had given him a bath before they went over to Trent and Rebecca's, so all she had to do was usher him through face-washing and teeth-brushing before she bundled him into bed.

Danny watched from the doorway, but when she asked if he'd like to help, he shook his head. “You've got a system, I can tell. Some night when he's not so sleepy, I'll take a turn.”

When she bent over his bed for a goodnight kiss, Nick threw his arms around her neck. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, buddy,” she whispered.

Then he mumbled. “'Night, Danny. I love you.”

There was a moment of electric stillness. Finally, Danny moved. He crossed the room and bent down. He touched his lips to Nick's silky blond hair. “I love you, too. See you tomorrow.”

He was standing so close that when Sydney rose from the edge of the bed, their bodies brushed. But Danny didn't move, simply put his hands on her arms and held her there, her back to his front as they both looked down at the sleeping child.

Sydney closed her eyes and let herself drink in the moment. She, her son and his father, together. If only it could always be like this. Danny's hands were warm on her arms, his body big and hard where she rested against him. It wasn't hard to imagine that they were really a family.

It was that thought that made her step away. Quietly, she slipped around Danny and headed for the hallway. But she'd barely cleared the door of Nick's room when Danny stopped her by taking her arm again.

“Sydney?”

She looked down at his hand on her arm. If she looked at him now, she knew he would see her feelings reflected in her eyes. “Yes?”

“Thank you for going with me tonight. I— It was a lot easier with you there.”

Now
that
was a loaded statement. She wondered if he even realized what he'd just said. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked up at him. “Why was that?”

Danny hesitated, clearly surprised by the question. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His shoulders slumped. “Sydney,” he said quietly, “you don't want this. Me. Knowing we're both bound to Nick creates a bond—”

“—that we were feeling before I even remembered I had a son,” she interrupted. If she was going to gamble, she might as well toss in all her chips. “I love you, Danny.” She lifted her finger to his lips when he would have spoken again. “Shh. Let me finish. Yes, Nick is a factor in our relationship. He has to be now. But even without him, I'd still have come back from Hawaii mourning the loss of the chance of my life. The chance to be with a man I love.” She put both hands up and framed his face, rubbing her thumbs over his lips, letting him see everything she was feeling in her eyes. “Will you stay tonight?”

Danny hesitated. “Sydney, I can't make any promises—”

“I know.” She let her hands drop. “I'm not asking for promises. Tonight is my gift to you.”

Danny closed his eyes briefly. “That's not fair,” he said hoarsely. “You know what you do to me. How can you offer me this and expect me to walk away?”

Despite the ache gripping her chest, she smiled. “I don't.”

Danny stood frozen for a moment, clearly a man at war with himself. Then he stepped forward and bent, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms so smoothly that she gasped and clutched at his neck. His mouth
came down on hers even as he began to walk toward her bedroom, and Sydney gave herself fully to the magic that their bodies made together.

He carried her into her bedroom and set her on her feet beside the bed. Then he stepped away to turn on the little bedside lamp and pull her sheets and duvet to the foot of the bed.

As they faced each other Danny took a deep breath. “I want you,” he said in a low voice. “I dream of making love to you all the time. I want it to be real.”

The words seduced her as surely as any skilled touch, and she smiled. “I've dreamed of you touching me.”

His eyes darkened with heat and desire and he reached for the hem of the little top she'd worn to dinner. It came up and over her head and he tossed it away. As she shook her hair free, his hands were already on the clasp of her bra, and then it, too, went flying through the air to land on the rug beside her bed. Moments later, he removed the last of her clothing when he slid her bikini panties off and tossed them onto the pile.

His gaze seared her from head to toe, so intent that she felt embarrassed, but as she lifted her arms to cross them over her torso, Danny caught them and gently held her wrists at her sides.

“I knew you were beautiful,” he said seriously, and every ounce of her self-consciousness died away.

He released her then, stepping back to peel off his own shirt. He removed his pants as well, sliding out
of his casual loafers at the same time and stood before her in nothing but a pair of white briefs that left little doubt about the extent of his desire for her.

He'd said she was beautiful, but he was magnificent. His chest was broad, his shoulders heavily built with muscle defining his arms. His lean thighs also were muscled, probably from the running, and his stomach was flat and ridged with strength. He wasn't hairy, but had a single line of blond hair bisecting his chest, growing wider beneath his navel before it vanished into his briefs.

A sudden wave of desire surged through her and her whole body nearly shook with the need to touch him, to slide away the cloth and see all of him. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a long moment, and when she opened them, he was kicking away the briefs. Stark-naked and fully aroused, he made her pulse pound and her body feel the need to shift restlessly, to assuage the jittery, needy feeling growing between her thighs.

She steeled herself for his touch, but instead he took her hand and tugged her toward the bed. Without a word, he urged her onto the crisp white expanse of the mattress. She turned onto her side, watching as he lay down beside her. His erection was cushioned in a thick cloud of blond curls, angling slightly to the side. She put out a hesitant hand and Danny reached out and met it, guiding her to him. He wrapped her fingers around the thick, heated shaft, and she heard his breath whistle out as she explored the satiny column, petting and stroking him, feeling the pulse of his heart pounding through him, filling him even more.

Again, he covered her hand with his, showing her how to lightly grip and stroke him. When she glanced up at his face, his eyes were tightly closed and there were wild spots of color high on his cheekbones. Sydney sighed with pleasure as his hips surged against her hand. She increased the speed of her strokes until with a groan, he dragged her hand away. “I don't want to come yet,” he whispered. “Not just yet.”

He urged her onto her back and laid his hand on her belly. She was so sensitive she flinched at the touch and he smiled as he slid his hand lower to comb through the soft curls at the V of her legs. “Spread your legs a little.”

Sydney did as he asked. She was so beautiful, she made his whole body ache with the need to bury himself deep inside her. But he'd longed for this, wanted this, dreamed of it, and he refused to rush.

Slowly, he slipped his hand down and down, feeling the soft folds part to admit his index finger. She was slick and wet and so hot he just wanted to get inside her, to feel that heat and moisture surrounding him. He slid a finger deep into her and Sydney's hips lifted off the bed, shoving him deep into the silky channel. Her muscles quivered around him, and he was momentarily awed by the force of the attraction between them. He'd barely begun to touch her and yet he knew—he
knew
—that with the slightest effort he could bring her to climax.

He wanted it in the worst way, but even more, he wanted to be inside her when she came. Carefully,
slowly, he withdrew his hand and reached for the small package he'd tossed onto her bedside table. Then shifting over her, he parted her legs and made a place for himself there. They both sighed when his erection was sandwiched between her legs, and she wriggled wildly beneath him, trying to push herself up high enough for him to enter her.

Danny held her back, though, enjoying her struggles. But when she reached for him again he pinned both wrists above her head with one big hand. “Oh, no,” he said. “We're in this together, babe.”

“Then
do it!
” she said. She lifted her head and nipped at his bottom lip. “Danny,
please.
”

He took her hips in his hands and held her in place, rearing back on his knees until his shaft was poised between her thighs. She whimpered as he moved forward just a fraction, lodging the head of his erection in her channel but not letting her have it all.

Sydney clasped his buttocks in her hands. “You tease.” She was smiling into his eyes. And then she drove her heels hard into the bed and pushed herself up in one abrupt motion, and he was inside her. All the way. He gasped, and she arched her back and cried out, and around him, incredibly, he felt her begin to come, squeezing him rhythmically as her body bucked and shuddered beneath his. He felt himself draw taut, his own body rushing madly out of control, and he stopped fighting it. He let himself go, pounding roughly into her as she arched and thrust beneath him, letting himself plunge fast and hard, flesh slapping
soft, responsive flesh, until with a harsh groan, he spent himself inside her, feeling the jetting pulses of release shooting into her. He collapsed on her smaller body, every ounce of energy drained from him along with the shattering climax. Sydney immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him, angling her head to kiss his jaw. Neither of them spoke.

After a few moments, he withdrew from her body. But he didn't leave, though he probably should have. Instead, he turned onto his side and drew Sydney back against him, resting his head just behind hers on her pillow. He reached down and flipped up the sheet, then snuggled her closer and let the lassitude take him. And he smiled when he felt her turn her head and gently kiss the side of his shoulder.

Later—much later, he realized when he glanced at the clock—he roused from a deep, dreamless sleep. Dreamless. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't had the dream since he'd met Sydney. It wasn't all that remarkable, considering the infrequency with which it attacked these days, but still… Any change in his routine usually brought on bouts of vivid, horrifying dreams in which he was about to be kidnapped. And this was definitely a change in his routine.

He tightened his arms around Sydney. Man. If he weren't still holding her in his arms, he'd have sworn he'd just had the most erotic dream of his entire life. He'd been attracted to her since the first day he'd seen her, had known she could get him hard faster than anything he'd ever experienced before. He'd known,
on some primitive level that he couldn't explain, that sex with her would be fantastic.

But he'd never expected that behind her calm, capable facade, she was a screaming wildcat who would blow the top of his head off. He smiled in the darkness. What a woman.

She had turned onto her side and was snuggled spoon-fashion in front of him, her soft bottom nestled against his thighs. He enjoyed the closeness. Felicia had been one of those sleepers who threw arms and legs every which way and there'd been plenty of space between them in their king-size bed most of the time.

Felicia. Thinking of his wife brought all the craziness of the recent days back to the forefront of his mind, and suddenly he was wide awake. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? Sydney had said she loved him.

And he'd wanted desperately just to open his mouth and say it back. But he couldn't. One of them had to be sensible. This wasn't real. This was…pretend. Once they got the details of Nick's new life straightened out and he was home again with his son, she'd feel differently.

 

Dawn was just pearling the sky outside when he woke again. Sydney was still curled in his arms just as she'd been all night. After several hours of sleep, his body was letting him know it would be happy to indulge in some early-morning lovemaking, but he resisted the urge to lift Sydney's thigh over his and slide into her while she was still warm and sleepy.

Instead, he carefully got out from beneath the covers. He took his clothes and went through the apartment to the half bath off the kitchen so he didn't wake Sydney. He splashed water on his face and shoved back his hair, then dressed rapidly. His brain was moving twice as fast, though, and he couldn't stop thinking about what was happening.

He knew what Sydney wanted. Even if she hadn't said it, hadn't even allowed herself to think it, he knew. He stepped out of the bathroom and went to the kitchen, where he'd left his keys on the counter last night.

But as he turned to go, Sydney appeared in the hallway that led from the bedrooms. Her hair was messy, her eyes heavy-lidded and sexy. She'd thrown on an aqua robe in some satiny material, and he could see the tight tips of her breasts pressing against the fabric. The robe was short, tempting him to go to her and slip his hand beneath its bottom edge, to find the sweet, hot center of her and assuage the raging need that still hadn't subsided fully.

“What are you doing?” she asked, yawning. But she'd seen the keys in his hand, and the sleepiness had fled from her eyes, leaving them wary and slightly puzzled.

“I have to go.”

“No, you don't.” She started toward him. “You can stay and have breakfast with us.”

“I have to go,” he repeated. It would be all too easy to let himself slide into a relationship with her, but that was the one thing he couldn't do.

“All right,” Sydney said quietly, raising one eyebrow. He could almost hear what she was thinking.
Uh-oh. He's touchy this morning.
“Shall I get Nick's usual baby-sitter today?”