A Daughter's Perfect Secret (18 page)

She nodded, biting back disappointment. She’d hoped Officer McCall would have more information that could help her. It seemed he was feeling around in the dark just as much as she and Rafe were. One thing was for sure: Samuel Grayson had this town wrapped around his finger so tight, she didn’t think a strand of hair could pass between the two.

Ford brought up an interesting point. If he was willing to get rid of his favorite girlfriend, what would he do to the child he’d never known about…and likely never wanted?

Chapter 18

R
afe’s plan to return later that night to the clinic was moving along smoothly until he happened to bump into Dr. Bulger. The man looked tired, bags hung under his eyes and the corners of his mouth sucked in the sagging skin as discontent clearly rode him hard. Rafe felt bad for the man. Something was clearly eating at him, but he didn’t know how to approach him without stepping over boundaries. He’d worked too hard to lose his position now.

Yet, even as he prepared to offer a friendly but noncommittal smile on his way out, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to walk past a man in obvious need of a friend.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Surprised at the show of concern, Rolf could only stare for a moment, then he shook his head and waved him on. “Go on. Busy day today. The clinic has more babies than we know what to do with, eh? As always, you do good work.”

“Dr. Bulger…if you need anything, just ask. I’m happy to help. You seem…worn out.”

Rolf bobbed a nod. “Yes, very tired. But nothing for you to worry. I’ll be fine. Need just a little rest. Maybe a vacation.”

“I’d be happy to fill in for you,” he offered helpfully. “I wouldn’t let you down.”

At that Rolf eyed him with something that looked like pity mixed with regret. Rafe wondered what put the look there and why. He suspected he’d never know. He knew instinctively whatever Rolf was going through would allow for only a private audience. After a lengthy, almost uncomfortable pause, Rolf roused himself to say, shocking Rafe, “Yes…you are good man. This is not always safe place for a man such as you.”

And then he turned and left the building, leaving Rafe to stare, wondering what he’d just witnessed, what the older man had just inadvertently let slip.

Or maybe it hadn’t been inadvertent at all.

He was tempted to run after him, but he knew the effort would be pointless. Rolf would not share what was eating at him, and Rafe couldn’t spare more time to find out.

He had a short window to get into the supply closet, before the nurses changed shifts, and hide there until the front office closed. Once closed, he could slip down the corridor that was always locked during normal hours. He’d asked about it but was told it was a wing of the clinic that hadn’t been staffed yet, so it was simply empty rooms. He wanted to be sure. A copy of Rolf’s key card was in his pocket, waiting for the right moment.

The minutes ticked by in agonizingly slow increments as he counted down the shift change. Finally, the time came and he eased out of the supply closet, quietly closing the door behind him. The clinic was closed, and everyone who was scheduled for the night shift at the hospital had already moved to that wing. Deathly silence rang in the halls, and shadows gathered in the darkened front office.

He waited, listening for the slightest movement, and finding total silence, he made his way to the corridor, keeping to the shadows. Sweat dampened his hairline as he approached the door blocking off the supposed empty wing. He fished the key card from his pocket and quietly slid it through the lock. The light turned from red to green and opened with a slight click. Elation beat wildly in his heart and he slipped over threshold, closing the door behind him. The halls were dimly lit, proof that this was no unfinished section of the clinic. He listened hard for movement. His ears caught a faint noise and he flattened against the wall. Someone was walking this way. He opened a side office and went inside, closing the door and waiting for the footsteps to pass. He held his breath, too afraid to breathe. What was this place? Why the secrecy? Was this the infirmary? It had to be. Why else would it be tucked behind a door that was billed as unfinished and inaccessible?

His ears pricked at a sound that stopped his heart.

An infant.

He slowly popped up and peered from the small window in the door. A nurse walked by, carrying a baby swaddled in a blue blanket. There was nothing of tenderness or caring in her body language. She neither cooed nor paid attention to the bundle in her arms. The woman might as well have been carrying a lump of dirty laundry. He watched as she cut the corner and disappeared down another corridor. Heart beating so fast he feared a cardiac event, he followed her at a safe distance. He lost sight of her for a moment, and when he turned the corner, he was met with empty halls. Panic drove him and he opened the first door to his right. He didn’t have a plan if he came up face-to-face with the nurse, he just knew he had to see where she went. The baby might be his son. Why else would a baby be hidden in this dungeon, locked away? He shuddered to think that more than one child might be secreted away like this. He stared into the room, shock mingling with disappointment. A nursery of vacant cribs stared back at him, creepy and desolate in their emptiness.

Damn it. Where’d she go? And what the hell kind of nursery was this? Whose babies were put here, away from the light of normal life? Fresh agony at his failure to find his son washed over him and he couldn’t help but wonder, had his son slept in this sad place? Had he been carried around by someone who saw only to his physical needs and otherwise ignored him? Was he held and cuddled? Or placed in one of these cold, impersonal cribs and left for hours at a stretch with nothing but the walls of his prison to stimulate his brain? Children needed interaction with people. The social aspect of their development was crucial. Rafe had read medical reports of children in Third-World orphanages who were never given love or affection and how it had stunted their physical and emotional growth. Some were never able to socialize ever again. It was enough to stab a fork of fear into his heart.

He turned to leave the room when he ran smack into a body. Rafe’s first instinct was to run, but he stopped at the familiar scent.

Peaches and vanilla?

“Darcy?” he asked in an incredulous whisper. The woman flipped her hoodie back and grinned, albeit ruefully, as she rubbed at her chest where he’d slammed into her. Relief gave way to anger as he realized she’d followed him somehow. “What are you doing here?”

She frowned at the sharpness in his tone. “Helping you. What does it look like?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, ignoring the flare of warmth that followed her admission. It was bad enough he was putting everything on the line; he didn’t need to worry about her getting caught, too. “This is too dangerous.”

“I’m not a baby and I’m not helpless,” she whispered back, irritated. “Besides, I think you may want to know I think I’ve found a records room you might want to check out.”

“Where?” he asked, instantly intrigued. He supposed the other conversation would hold, presuming they made it out of there alive. He grabbed her and placed a quick but deep kiss on her mouth. “Damn it, Darcy,” he said against her lips, pulling away to stare with equal parts anger and relief. “You’re the last person I want tangled up in this. I wish you would’ve stayed home.”

“I’m not a stay-at-home kind of girl. I thought you might’ve noticed by now. Besides, if you’re in danger, how do you think that makes me feel? I can’t just sit by the sidewalk and twiddle my thumbs, hoping everything turns out all right. Forget that. I’m in. Besides, don’t you like knowing someone’s got your back?”

Yeah…he did. The woman had logic on her side. He bit back a grin. “Okay, but this conversation isn’t over. Now, where’s that records room?”

She flashed a smile and gestured. “Follow me.”

Questions pounded in his brain, like how the hell had she managed to gain access to this place when it’d taken him months? But now wasn’t the time to start peppering her for details. She had a point. Having someone on his side was a valuable asset. If only he wasn’t worried about her in the process.

They rounded the corner and entered a room that looked like a broom closet from the outside. Once safely inside, Darcy pulled a pocket flashlight from her back jeans pocket. He was secretly impressed. Why hadn’t he thought of grabbing a flashlight? Seems he was pretty pathetic in the spy department. When this was all said and done and his son was recovered, he supposed he ought to stick to what he was good at—fixing people—and leave the subterfuge to the professionals. She clicked it on and flashed the room.

“See?” She pointed to a row of file cabinets lining the wall. “I found this by accident when some nurse came my way. I had to jump in so as not to get caught. Lucky, huh?”

“Lucky that you didn’t get caught,” he grumbled but went to the first cabinet. He slid one open as quietly as possible, though each minute sound seemed magnified.

“I figured it ought to be something good. Why else would you keep a room in a secret clinic with files? The secret clinic alone seemed suspect. But they’re not as careful as they should be,” she whispered, almost conversationally, watching as Rafe flipped through files. He shot her a glance, prompting her to explain. “The sublevel basement has a window that opens right up. All I had to do was climb in, drop to the floor and then brave the creepy basement, which was daunting, I won’t lie, but the lock on the door leading out is easily circumvented with a credit card. They really should be more secure in their clandestine operations.”

He stifled a laugh at the irony. Here he was trying his damndest to find a way into this place, going so far as to volunteer at the clinic just to get a copy of Rolf’s key card, and Darcy had wiggled her way in like a cat burglar. Rafe shook his head. “Is this when you tell me you did time for breaking and entering when you were a kid?” he said, only slightly joking.

She punched him in the arm lightly. “Hey! I got your butt into this place. Who cares where I got my skills?”

Good point, he reasoned, continuing to flip through files, looking for names he recognized but most notably that of Abby Michaels. He stopped short, a sharp sense of apprehension following the recognition.

“Did you find something?” Darcy whispered, leaning in to see. She frowned. “Who is Liza Burbage? Someone you know?”

“A patient,” he answered, pulling the file and gesturing for Darcy to hold the light so he could scan the contents. “She was diabetic and not doing well with her diet. Her insulin numbers were really unstable. I sent her to Heidi for nutrition counseling.”

Darcy shuddered. “That woman would put me off from eating, that’s for sure. She’s like a skeleton in a skirt. And just as peppy. Why’d you send Ms. Burbage to her?”

“Samuel’s orders,” he said, muttering under his breath as he read. “Damn it, Liza…why is your file in here?”

Darcy looked at him, mirroring his concern. “Do you think something happened to her?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been into the office for a while. I lost track of her, to be honest. I haven’t seen her around town, either. I should’ve followed up.” Guilt ate at him, and he flipped the pages faster. “The dates stop about two weeks ago.”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t know what to think these days,” he said grimly, tucking the file under his arm.

“What are you doing?” Darcy asked, alarmed. “You can’t take that. It’ll tip off that we were here, and then all hell will break loose for the both of us.”

“No one is going to notice. There’s hundreds of files here. Liza’s isn’t going to trip the radar. Besides, if something happened to her, I need proof that someone other than me saw her up until two weeks ago. Who knows, it might help prove a timeline.”

“You mean, a timeline of death?” Darcy asked, her voice shaky. “That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

He didn’t see the sense in lying. “Yeah,” he answered. “I think we should get out of here. Abby’s file isn’t in here and I don’t want to hang around a moment longer than I have to in this place.”

“Preaching to the choir. But I suggest we go out the way I came in. That way, if they research the key card, it’ll look like a computer glitch.”

He did a double take. “You’re one smart cookie, you know that?” She flashed him a grin, though it was strained around the edges and he knew she was scared, even if she tried to hide it. He didn’t blame her. They were both playing with fire. He kissed her quickly and took the lead, checking the corridor before sneaking out of the file room. His ears strained for any noise, but he was still hoping to hear a baby’s cry. Maybe if he knew the direction that nurse had gone… Darcy squeezed his hand when he’d paused and stared at him in question. He shook his head, and Darcy pointed in the direction of the basement.

“First door on the right,” she whispered, sticking close to him in the milky light. “This place gives me the creeps. I pity anyone who gets stuck here.”

Rafe agreed, thinking of those empty cribs.

Especially the babies.

Chapter 19

R
olf Bulger stared into his glass of brandy, willing some kind of solace to arise from the amber liquid, yet finding none, he drained the third glass of the evening. His vision had begun to blur, but he poured another.