It looked like Garrett Maxwell’s.
She pulled up beside it and saw the decal on the window. Pay dirt. After she pocketed her keys and picked up her purse, her heart raced faster and she told herself the increase was simply because she was anxious about him taking the case.
However, when she opened the door to the convenience store and saw him standing at the counter with the cashier, her attraction to him slammed into her full force. She’d always liked tall men, and he was definitely tall. He looked dangerous and sexy and she knew she should run in the other direction. But she needed his professional skill right now and she was going to get it if she could.
When he saw her, there was no simple “hello.”
“This isn’t a coincidence, is it?” he asked, brows raised.
She gave him a quick smile. “No. I went to the hospital.”
“And?”
“And Dianne said you were asking questions and would be around town. Are you taking the case?”
“I’m still deciding.” He turned his attention once again to the cashier. “So you don’t remember a young couple?” he asked the teenager as if the boy had already said he didn’t.
“Nope,” the boy responded. “Who are you anyway? A cop?”
Not caring what Garrett Maxwell thought, Gwen interrupted, “Hi, Reuben. We met at the high school at the beginning of the month when I spoke to the senior class. You helped me with the screen in the auditorium.”
The boy looked at her. “I remember. Ms. Langworthy, right?”
“Right. Reuben, do you remember a story in the paper about a baby that was found?”
“I don’t read the paper much but my folks were talking about it.”
“We’re looking for that baby’s mom.”
“So you can arrest her?” he asked warily.
“No, we’re not law enforcement. We want to find her so we can help her.”
Although the teenager looked unsure for a few moments, he stared at Gwen and seemed to decide that she was sincere. Still he asked, “Help her, how?”
“We need to know why she left her baby.” More times than Gwen could count she’d wondered about her own real mother. How young had she been? How rich or poor? Had there been no one to help her or had she simply not cared enough to keep a child? Had she shirked responsibility or simply been unable to accept it?
Shaking off those questions, she went on, “If she wants to give the baby up for adoption, that’s fine. But we want to make sure she has the information she needs to make that decision. And if she really does want to be a mom, but needs help, we need to know that, too.”
His gaze went to Garrett, then back to her. “Yeah, I guess you do. I don’t know anything for sure.”
“But you know something?” Gwen asked gently.
“Maybe. I was working Monday night. I only work Monday, Wednesday and Sunday. Anyway, this guy and his girl came in. The girl, she bought acetaminophen and those…those pads girls wear when they get their period. I remember her because she didn’t look so good, really white, like she was going to pass out or something. When they left, the guy had his arm around her. You know, holding her up a little.”
Garrett’s gaze met Gwen’s. Monday night was the night she’d found Amy, and this couple sounded like “the” couple.
“Can you describe them for me?” Garrett asked.
After hesitating a few moments, Reuben finally said, “She had long brown hair. He was a blonde.”
“Did you notice what kind of car they were driving?” Garrett inquired.
The boy shrugged. “It chugged pretty much when the guy started it. I looked outside. It was a brown pickup truck—small, pretty battered up.”
“Anything identifiable on it?” Garrett asked.
“Nah. I didn’t see it up close.”
“Which way did they go?”
“They headed north.”
When Gwen exchanged a look with Garrett, he handed Reuben a business card. “If you remember anything else, give me a call, okay?”
The teenager nodded, and Garrett motioned for Gwen to go outside.
Next to a vending machine, she stopped. Garrett did, too, but he remained silent.
Facing him, her arm brushed his. As a buzz of attraction hummed between them, she asked, “That’s our couple, don’t you think? What do we do next?”
“What do you mean—what do we do next?” he asked warily. “You do whatever you do on Sundays and I’ll continue what I’m doing.”
Maybe he was a loner, but two heads were better than one. “Are you going to take the case?”
Though the nerve in his jaw worked, his tone was even. “I’m just doing some preliminary work to find out if there’s a reason to take the case.”
“You only search for someone when you know you’ll be successful?” she challenged him.
His splayed fingers ran through his hair as if he were frustrated with her beyond measure. “No, of course not.”
“Then, Mr. Maxwell, why is this such a hard decision to make?”
Although his penetrating stare might have made a lesser woman crumble, she didn’t crumble, not even under the appraisal of a tough-guy former FBI agent.
Finally he replied, “It’s a hard decision to make because I’m one person and I have a limited amount of time.”
She certainly understood that. “Did you see Amy?”
His expression didn’t change but something in his eyes did. “Yes, I saw her.”
“We can’t let that little girl go through life not knowing who her parents are.”
“We?” he drawled again, his brows arched.
“Mr. Maxwell—” she began.
“It’s Garrett.”
“Garrett,” she repeated, liking the sound of his name on her lips, liking the look of him, not liking the horribly exciting pull she felt toward him. “You wouldn’t have started asking questions if you didn’t want to help me with Amy.”
“I wasn’t getting very far until you came along,” he acknowledged with a bit of chagrin.
“Reuben thought you were a cop. Kids his age don’t rat on each other, not to someone in authority.”
“I have a feeling you can
