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Authors: Delores Fossen

BOOK: Peekaboo Baby
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“Positive, as far as my own actions are concerned.” The doctor sighed, leaned back in his chair and tented
his fingers. “Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that we didn't have a loose cannon in our midst.”

“You mean the late Dr. Spears?” Ryan questioned. Thankfully. Because it was something that definitely needed to be asked.

“Perhaps. Or maybe even Dr. Keyes. Keyes and a former employee who worked as a lab technician claim to have seen Spears's records, but I've found nothing to indicate that Spears was involved in anything questionable.”

That was a start, but Delaney knew it was a tenuous one. After all, the assurance was coming from a man who'd perhaps tried to kill them.

“Maybe you've overlooked something,” Ryan continued. “For instance, Spears's computer?”

Montgomery remained calm. “What about his computer?” he asked.

“It's missing. Or rather I should say both his home computer and the one he used here at work are nowhere to be found. For that matter, neither is Keyes or your former employee. In other words, both men who allegedly saw these illusive records have mysteriously disappeared.”

Okay. That shot to pieces the tenuous assurance. While there might not be direct evidence to link Spears to the cloning, there appeared to be evidence of some suspicious activity, including a cover-up.

And if so, that would mean there was indeed something to cover up.

“Yes, the missing computers,” Montgomery com
mented. “I don't know anything about Spears's personal computer, of course, but I'm looking into the one that was taken from here. I think maybe someone on the janitorial staff stole it. You just can't get good help these days. And as for the two men, Keyes just isn't very reliable. Neither is the lab tech. That's why he was fired.” He calmly sipped some bottled water and recapped it. “But how is it that you have information about the computers?”

Ryan met the man's gaze. “My security manager looked into the matter.”

She had to hand it to the doctor. He had little or no reaction to Ryan's statement. Which could mean he was totally innocent and all of this was just conversation about a late colleague. Or maybe Montgomery was simply very good at being deceptive.

“I also learned your clinic was located in the hospital where my son died,” Ryan continued. “I know from phone records that Keyes, Spears and you were all working that afternoon. That would have given you or anyone else on your staff the opportunity to take DNA needed for experiments.”

Montgomery took another long sip of water. “There'd be no reason for me to do such a thing. I have access to an ample supply of suitable embryos by equally suitable,
willing
donors.”

Delaney moved to the edge of her seat. “But what if it's not about suitable supplies or willing donors? What if this is about something else?”

The doctor leaned closer, as well. He was near enough that Delaney could see the sweat forming on his upper lip. “So we're back to Keyes and his suspicious behavior. Then perhaps that's the direction your security manager and the police should be looking. I mean, he hasn't been at work in days, not since SAPD was here asking questions. If you ask me, those aren't the actions of an innocent man.”

It was Ryan who finished her argument. “But as you pointed out, the clinic has enough embryos, so why would Dr. Keyes try to clone a child?”

“Hmm. Maybe he did it because he thought this would be the way to make medical history. A way to become famous.”

“Don't you mean infamous?” Delaney challenged. “Human cloning is illegal.”

“Yes, now it is. But laws change. Attitudes change. Maybe Dr. Keyes wanted to have the procedures and techniques perfected so that when it's legal, he would be a pioneer in the field.”

A pioneer. Too bad her son might have been used to gain success for someone.

“I can think of another theory,” Ryan calmly interjected. “As a businessman, I can see the financial benefits of such a project. Black-market cloning for people who perhaps want to replicate themselves for reasons of vanity. Or for those needing transplants. There are
many who'd no doubt be willing to pay a fortune to have a second chance at life.”

Oh, God. Suddenly she felt sick. Delaney had to press her fingers to her mouth. She fought to stay calm because now was not the time to lose her composure.

Montgomery nodded. “As in your situation, Mr. McCall. With the son that you lost. Um. Yes. I see your point. This could have been a highly profitable endeavor for Dr. Keyes.”

“Or for you,” Delaney pointed out.

The glare that Montgomery aimed at her contained none of the friendliness that the man had shown when they'd first arrived. “It's that sort of comment that makes the authorities open investigations.”

Ryan started to speak, but Delaney gripped his arm, an indication that this was a battle she wanted to fight. “The police don't conduct investigations unless there's a reason for them to do so. I believe there's a good reason in this case.”

“Are you saying you think I'm guilty?” Montgomery demanded.

“I'm saying you have as much motive and opportunity as Keyes.”

Her accusation brought the doctor to his feet. Ryan stood, as well. No touch on his arm would have gotten him to back off. He pulled one of his knight routines and maneuvered himself between Montgomery and her.

“If Ms. Nash repeats what she just said to anyone,” the doctor warned, aiming an accusing finger in her direction, “I'll sue her for slander.”

“I'm pretty good at countersuing,” Ryan pointed out.

Since an argument probably wouldn't help get them those much-needed answers, Delaney stepped around Ryan so she could face the doctor.

“Lawsuits aside, I
will
learn the truth,” she said. “And if you're involved, I'll make sure the authorities do everything to put you behind bars.”

Montgomery's mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. But what he didn't do was provide her with any more information. He went toward the door.

“You can see yourselves out,” he said from over his shoulder.

And he was gone, slamming the door behind him.

Delaney considered going after him, but she doubted that would accomplish anything other than provide the fodder for Montgomery to get a restraining order against her.

“Either he or Keyes could have assisted Spears with the experiments,” Ryan said, leading her out of the office. They retraced their steps down the hall and went out the front door. “Or both.”

Yes. In fact, a collaboration would make sense. After all, all three men worked in the clinic. All three apparently stood to gain a lot, financially, from it. “Except we're right back where we started.”

“Not quite. We shook things up today. If Montgomery is guilty, he might do something stupid to cover his tracks. If that's the case, my security manager might be able to get some proof.”

Delaney glanced around the parking lot as they approached the waiting limo. “Your security manager's here?”

“He's around. He'll be watching Montgomery over the next few days.”

Days.
For some reason, that sounded like an eternity. “I don't think my body can stand all this high-level anxiety much longer. Eventually, I'll crash and burn.”

The crash and burn had some significant fuel added to it when her phone rang again. Delaney waited until she and Ryan were inside the limo before she glanced down at the screen. A local number. And not the one that had appeared when Keyes had called earlier.

“Hello,” she answered. Beside her, Ryan stilled. She couldn't even hear him breathing. The only sound came from the driver as he pulled out of the parking lot and started back toward the estate.

“Ms. Nash?”

Not Keyes. But a woman. “Yes?”

“I'm Sarah Cantrell, from the lab. I compared your son's DNA to Mr. McCall's, and I have the results.”

Delaney felt her stomach clench, as did her heart. “Okay.” It was all she could manage to say.

“Uh, if you'd prefer,” the woman added, obviously
noting Delaney's hesitance. “I can have a courier deliver the information to you.”

It was tempting. But even though it might be slightly easier to get the results while she was alone, Delaney knew it would only delay the inevitable. “No. You can tell me now.”

“Okay. Well, I need to let you know up front that the test is ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent accurate so there's little chance of error. However, if you want it repeated—”

“I don't. I just want the results.”

“All right. I compared Patrick Nash's DNA to that of the other subject, Ryan McCall. And I can say with certainty that Mr. McCall is the biological father of your son.”

Chapter Eleven

Ryan waited.

Every nerve in his body was on alert. Not in a good way. But in a way that made him think of panic attacks and nausea.

He watched as Delaney pressed the end call button on her phone and slipped it back into her purse. She gave away nothing. Yes, there was emotion practically burning in her eyes, and her bottom lip was trembling. She almost immediately started to twist her butterfly-less ring. Still, he didn't know if it was because the test results had been negative or positive.

He waited some more.

Waited, while Delaney tried to steady her breathing. While she clamped her teeth over her bottom lip. While she glanced at everything in the limo but him.

“Patrick is your son.” Delaney said the words fast. As if she were afraid if she didn't, she might not be able to get it all out.

The impact hit Ryan just as quickly. Oh, man. It was an onslaught of too many emotions to identify, and it made him thankful he was sitting down. Those emotions tore through his head as the scenery raced past the windows of the limo. Taking him home.

“Home to my son,” Ryan mumbled.

It was all he could say. He looked down at his body to see if he was shaking. Surprisingly, he wasn't. From all outward appearances, he was calm. But inside, well, that was an entirely different story. There was nothing calm about the maelstrom of emotion he was experiencing.

His son was alive.

Adam was alive.

All those hours, those days, those endless nights that he'd tried to bargain with God to give him back his wife and son. And God had apparently bargained with him after all. He'd been given back his little boy. A second chance.

A miracle.

Ironic. Because his miracle was possibly someone else's felony.

And the onset of Delaney's own personal nightmare.

That was a much-needed nudge back to reality, and Ryan looked at her. Her face said it all. What she was experiencing was the antithesis of what he was. She was scared. And she probably thought she was on the verge of losing everything. Another irony, since Ryan felt as if he'd been given back his life.

The joy of regaining his life stayed with him.

For another moment or two.

Until he remembered the danger.

Until he remembered the fire and the car accident with Delaney. Someone obviously wanted to hurt or even kill them. That possibly included Patrick. And in the blink of an eye, he could end up losing everything all over again.

That was the problem with being given back his life.

If he lost it again, if he lost Patrick, there wasn't a chance he could recover a second time.

“Say something,” Delaney begged. “
Anything.
Lie if you have to, but tell me that everything's going to be all right.”

Ryan couldn't promise her that, and he was afraid a lie would stick in his throat. Besides, this was Delaney, and she deserved better than a lie. What she deserved was the truth.

If only he knew what the truth was.

“A lot of clichés come to mind, Delaney. Clichés about not being able to undo the past. It's time to move forward. But to you, all of that must sound like BS.”

“Scary BS.” She turned. “Remember when I told you how my parents fought for custody of me? Well, it was bad.
Very
bad. I can't put Patrick through that.”

The sheer emotion in her voice made him ache for her. “It doesn't have to be that way.”

“Doesn't it?” she snapped. “He's your son. You'll want to raise him. Maybe you don't feel that way right
now because you're trying to consider my feelings. But you
will
want to raise him.”

Ryan didn't contradict her. “He's your son, too. You carried him for nine months, gave birth to him. You've nursed him every day of his life. You love him.”

She dismissed him with a shake of her head. “And all of that can be negated with the results from that DNA test and a trip to a good custody lawyer. Patrick is biologically your son. Legally—”

“No. We're not going there.” He took her shoulders and forced her to face him. “No lawyers. No custody hearings. Just us.”

She stared at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means we work this out, together. Somehow.” Unfortunately, it was the
somehow
that was giving Ryan a few problems.

“And we're back to shared custody. No. I won't go through that.”

“So you've said.” He glanced out the window as the driver went through the gates of the estate. He was mere minutes from being inside. “Tell you what, let's table this discussion. Because my brain is thinking of only one thing—seeing Patrick—and I can't work out details. Just rest assured that we will work them out.”

Delaney cooperated. Maybe because she didn't have a choice. With a terrified look on her face, she sat silently, waiting, for the driver to come to a stop in front of the house. Ryan tried not to rush out, tried not to
break into a run, but it took every ounce of willpower to calmly get out and follow Delaney into the foyer.

“Go on to the nursery,” she said. “I'll give you a few minutes alone with him.”

It was a gift. A truly selfless one. One that had cost her, and Ryan knew exactly how high that cost was. “You're an amazing woman.”

She turned away from him, probably so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. Ryan noted them anyway. And he hated that this was breaking her heart.

“Go,” she insisted when he reached for her. “We'll talk later.”

She even gave him a little push in the direction of the stairs. Ryan hesitated, wondering if he should try to do something about those tears, but he couldn't wait any longer. He had to see his son.

He wasn't sure how he made it up the stairs. Each step seemed to take an eternity, and yet it felt as if he were flying. He tried to rein in his heart, to hold back if only a little, but he soon realized that wasn't possible.

Ryan went through the door of the nursery. Lena was there, and she had Patrick in her lap. The child turned his head in Ryan's direction and doled out one of those priceless smiles.

Lena stood, obviously sensing something. “Boss, are you all right?”

“I am now.”

Ryan forced his feet to move, and he went to his son.
He reached down for him before he remembered that he'd never held a four-month-old child. He took the cue from Lena, and Ryan slid his hand around Patrick, to support his back and neck, and drew his son to him.

The pain of the past two years seemed to melt away.

Oh, man.

He'd expected something powerful, something that he would remember forever. And it was. But even that was an understatement. At the moment, miracles themselves were an understatement because this was the miracle to beat them all.

“Are you all right?” Lena repeated.

Ryan nodded, not taking his attention away from the child he held in his arms.

Patrick eyed him with intense curiosity and finally reached out. His tiny fingers made an awkward pass at Ryan's chin, swiping it. Patrick made a few more attempts, his aim obviously not perfect yet, and he managed to grab Ryan's nose.

Patrick laughed. A cheerful hiccupping sound that lit up his whole face.

Another miracle.

Ryan caught some movement out of the corner of his eye and turned defensively toward it. However, there was no threat.

It was Delaney.

The tears that had been in her eyes while she was downstairs were now streaming down her cheeks.
Those tears and her expression said it all. The grief. The fear.

And the hurt.

Before he could say anything, she turned and hurried out of the room.

 

D
ELANEY PRACTICALLY SPRINTED
into the bedroom of her guest suite and snatched up her purse. She wanted nothing more than to grab Patrick and run. To leave the estate and put some miles between Ryan and them.

That was her first reaction. Her own version of fight or flight, with the flight option definitely winning out. But slowly it sank in that fleeing wasn't a good idea. She couldn't react out of emotion, and yet she seemed to have no choice about it.

Feeling as if her heart were about to break apart, Delaney dropped down onto the edge of the bed and tried to choke back the tears.

She failed.

Disgusted with herself, she slapped her hand on the mattress. Before this past week, crying, for her, had been a semiannual event limited to days with really bad PMS or occasional breakups with boyfriends. But she'd cried buckets since she learned about the cloning allegations. And it sobered her to admit that there would probably be a lot more tears before this was over.

“If you punch me instead of the mattress, it might help,” she heard Ryan say.

She blinked away enough tears to see him standing in the doorway.

Alone.

“Where's Patrick?” she asked, alarmed.

“Lena has him. He's fine.” He tipped his head to the purse she still clutched in her hand. “Are you looking for the fastest escape route?”

“No. I was a few minutes ago, but I decided that it would be stupid to run.” She stood, took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. “Still, a drive might do me some good, and I do need to pick up papers from my house.”

Ryan ambled closer. “Is that the truth?”

“Yes.” She considered it, decided it was indeed the truth, and provided him with another
yes.
“But I really do need to get some work done. And I won't run. I promise. But don't expect me to just hand my son over to you.
Your
son,” she corrected.

“Try
our
son. It might be the compromise you're looking for.”

“This isn't some business deal—”

“No.” Unlike her voice, his was calm. “It's far more important than that.” He stopped in front of her and reached out. Ryan took her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms.

Because she didn't want to be comforted, because she
couldn't
be comforted, Delaney pushed him away. Turned. To head for Patrick's room. But she only made it a couple of steps before Ryan reached her.

He whirled her around to face him.

The emotion caught up with her, too, and Delaney knew she was on the verge of an all-out crying session or perhaps even a temper tantrum. She didn't want to have either in front of Ryan.

“I'm calling a bodyguard service,” she said, knowing she wasn't thinking this through. “Then, I'm leaving.”

“You're not,” he countered.

Mercy, that riled her. Not a mild riling, either. How dare he tell her that she couldn't leave. Wasn't it enough that she was losing her son to him. Did she have to take orders from him, too?

Delaney threw off his grip with far more force than required and stormed toward the nursery. Ryan cut her off at the pass so to speak. He hooked his arm around her waist, turned, and their forward momentum sent them against the nursery door, shutting it.

Ryan took the brunt of the impact, his back landing hard against the door. “I don't want to argue with you.”

“Tough.” Delaney geared up to deliver something scathing. Something born of the fear and the anger she was feeling. Something she'd no doubt regret saying but intended to anyway.

However, intentions were as far as she got.

Ryan pulled her closer until he had her in a snug embrace. “I just need to feel you in my arms right now.”

It wasn't some sexual suggestion but more of a heart-wrenching confession, and she didn't think it was her
imagination that it was a confession he hadn't wanted to make.

Delaney knew for a fact it wasn't a confession she wanted to hear.

She shook her head. Not because she didn't want him to hold her. Heaven help her, she did.

But she didn't stay tucked in his embrace.

In fact, because of the fear and all the uncertainty, she moved away from him.

And Ryan let her go.

He stood there, with his back against the nursery door. She could read every emotion on his face. Nothing hidden. This wasn't the ruthless businessman but someone who was experiencing all the pain and joy of the news they'd just learned. His son was alive.

Maybe it was because he didn't reach for her. Or maybe it was because she, too, needed to hold him. Whatever the reason, Delaney retraced her steps.

Ryan's eyes met hers. He started to say something, but because there was still some of the questioning and the argument in the depths of his blue eyes, she pressed her fingertips to his mouth. She was so close that she had the pleasure of seeing his pulse jump in his throat.

Her own pulse did the same.

She reached out and pulled him to her.

They could ruin everything for each other by squabbling over custody, by letting the past stop them from trying to work out a future.

It felt right to hold him.

To be held.

She melted into his arms.

They stood there for long moments. With his heartbeat drumming against hers. His uneven breath on her face. And they simply held each other.

“Before you came here, there weren't a lot of good memories in this house,” he said. “With Sandra and my son's deaths. Plus, the time I spent here as child was some of the worst of my life.”

Delaney didn't know what to say; instead she listened.

“Uncle Jess didn't want me here,” Ryan continued. “So he just ignored me. Never made eye contact. Never acknowledged me, even if we were in the same room.”

She could see it. Ryan, as a ten-year-old. An outsider. A lost child. Unloved. Unwanted. No wonder it was so important to him to create his own family.

And that family now almost certainly included Patrick.

“Thank you,” Ryan whispered.

“For what?” Delaney had to speak around the lump in her throat.

“For just being here. For acknowledging me. For this.”

Oh, how his words touched her heart and made her ache for the childhood he'd never had.

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