the carrier on the table between them and folded the yellow blanket into a neat square before pausing for an audible breath. Maddie felt her own held breath seeping out along with his as the burst of physical activity ended.
“I’m the one who should apologize.” Now she could see that he was looking at the smeared drops of crimson that could be nothing other than blood on the corner of the blanket. He tossed the material aside and pulled out a clean cover from the bag Roberta Hays had brought. “I should have dropped that bombshell with a little more tact. We don’t know for a fact yet that it was Katie’s blood. The crime lab is going to do some checking. At any rate, they didn’t seem to think there was enough of it to indicate a serious injury. It could be related to childbirth—if it’s even hers.”
Maddie pressed a kiss to the crown of Tyler’s head, still trying to make sense of Dwight’s reaction—make that overreaction—to her request for a helping hand. “And that’s supposed to reassure me?”
“You wanted the facts. There aren’t many to share.”
Maddie nodded, corralling her fear the way she had for the past month. The way she had for so many years when she’d known Karen had been in danger and that every effort to help her had ultimately proved futile. She laid Tyler in the carrier and strapped him in place. Then she covered him with the blanket Dwight had set out. “I appreciate hearing at least that much information. It’s more than the police could tell me.”
“I’m sure they’re doing their best to find Katie.”
Maddie tried not to scoff. “They’re more interested in locating that illegal-adoption clinic that may or may not exist. If she’s not mixed up with that, then I’m afraid they’ll never find her.”
Dwight angled his head toward the door, shifting his whole body in that direction. But when she thought the conversation between them had ended, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and turned back to face her. “When was the last time you heard from Joe Rinaldi?”
She imagined that abrupt change of topic was a useful tactic to use in the courtroom to catch a witness off guard. But any mention of the ex-brother-in-law who had butchered her sister put Maddie on alert.
“I haven’t. We have an unlisted number, and the Department of Corrections keeps him locked up pretty tight.” But Dwight’s hesitation only upped her suspicions. “Why?”
He pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Joe Rinaldi is being transferred to a new prison for a psychiatric evaluation. Could he have contacted Katie without you knowing it?”
“He’s not allowed to call or write her. And if he had, surely Katie would have told me.” You’d be surprised what a man can accomplish from inside a prison cell if he’s determined enough. No. She couldn’t go there. “Is Joe getting out?”
“He’s getting transferred. There’s a difference.”
“But for you to mention it, you must be concerned—”
“You wanted me to tell you everything I know. Now I have. Here.” As he slipped his wallet back into his pocket, he held out a business card. “I’ll report to KCPD if I hear from your niece again. Detective Bellamy’s young and ambitious, but I’ll make sure he keeps you informed and that Katie doesn’t get lost in the shuffle of pursuing a bigger case. You can call me if you don’t hear from him soon.”
Maddie took the card, trying not to make too much of how quickly he pulled his hand away from hers. “What about Joe?”
“I’ll keep you posted on anything I hear from that end, as well. Let’s hope he’s proved perfectly sane and MODOC puts him right back where he belongs.”
“Let’s hope.” Maddie summoned a smile. Whether it was his intention or not, Dwight Powers had given her the best comfort she’d known in a month. Maybe not in a tender here’s-a-hug-and-some-reassuring-words kind of way. But his straightforward taking-care-of-business bluntness went a long way toward easing her fears and making her feel as though she wasn’t in this battle all on her own. “Thanks.”
“KCPD will find out what Katie’s running from and bring her home.” The tight set of his jaw told her this last point wasn’t open for negotiation. “But I’m not an investigator. I’m not in the protection business. You and I are done here. Understood?”
So much for allies and support.
“And you can get me a list of all state-sanctioned adoptions in the past twelve months?” Cooper Bellamy pushed open the conference-room door, ushering in Roberta Hays ahead of him.
“If they’re public record,” Roberta huffed. “Not all of them are.”
Cooper seemed unfazed by her halfhearted answer and unaware of the tension that filled the room. He was grinning as big as a boy at an amusement park. “Ms. McCallister?” He nodded to Dwight. “Excuse me for interrupting, sir, but I’ve got some photos I’d like her to look at.”
“You’re a go,” Roberta stated. Maddie barely minded the odor of cigarette smoke stinging her nose as the social worker gave her a thumbs-up sign. “I just need to know where to reach you in case…”
Detective Bellamy opened a folder on the table in front of Maddie and dealt out five pictures. “Do you recognize any of these girls? Would your niece have contact with any of them?”
An auburn-haired teenager with a heart-shaped face jumped to her attention. “That’s Whitney Chiles. A friend of Katie’s. They sing together in the show choir.”
“And what about…”
While Maddie’s multi-tasking brain answered the pertinent questions and filtered out the rhetorical ones, her thoughts were focused on the man who gave her one last, hard look before striding from the room without a good-bye. A man of immeasurable strength who had an aversion to smiling. A man who would do only his job and nothing more.
Dwight Powers had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Katie. Or the baby.
Or with her.
So why did she feel as if her best hope had just walked out the door?
OH, MAN. THERE must be an elephant sitting on her head.
Katie Rinaldi tried to roll over to a more comfortable position. But a bombardment of fireworks and clashing swords exploded inside her brain.
She groaned. At least, she thought that was her voice. Her tongue felt swollen, her throat was scratchy. She was so thirsty.
Her breasts were tender and her joints ached from being twisted up like a pretzel while she slept. Or had she passed out? And why the hell wouldn’t that elephant get off her head?
“She’s movin’.”
“Make the call.”
“We call when she’s awake, not before.”
“You gave her too much juice. It’s been twenty-four hours.”
“You finally got some shut-eye, didn’t you? I told you this one was trouble from day one, when she came lookin’ for us, instead of the other way around. You should be thankin’ me instead of complainin’.”
