to be a real part of his child’s life. Somehow, he had to convince Olivia.
He returned to her SUV where she had prudently stayed behind the steering wheel with the doors locked. With wide eyes, she peered through the driver’s side window.
“There’s nobody inside,” he said. He looked to the next obvious hiding place for an intruder. “Do you usually park in the garage?”
“Not when the weather is nice.”
“Leave your headlights on and hit the automatic door opener.”
Holding his weapon at the ready, he moved to the side of the square structure. The garage door squawked and rumbled as it folded up on itself. The interior held the typical junk that accumulates in a garage as well as ski equipment and a very nice mountain bike with heavy-duty tires.
Troy noticed the outline of a footprint in the dust on the concrete floor. It appeared to be a man-size boot, too large for Olivia. The print could have been made today or last week or a month ago. He checked the side door to the garage. It was open.
“Olivia,” he called to her. “Is this door usually locked?”
“It should be,” she yelled back to him. “But I usually don’t bother.”
None of the boxes or tools in the garage looked like they’d been disturbed. If an intruder had searched in here, he’d been incredibly careful. And why bother being so stealthy in a garage? It didn’t make sense.
Troy decided against mentioning the footprint. Not right now, anyway. He returned to her SUV. “I think we’re okay.”
“Are you sure? Could you tell if anything was stolen?”
“It doesn’t look like it.” Her nervousness seemed out of proportion for a light left on in a window, and it wasn’t like her to panic for no reason. “What’s going on? Have you been threatened before this?”
“Why would I be threatened? I’m just a midwife.”
As she pushed open her car door and climbed out, his gaze focused on her belly. He hadn’t seen her for two months, and she’d swelled up like a watermelon. His fingers itched to touch her roundness. “You look beautiful.”
“Yeah, right.” She lurched past him toward the cabin. “I’m gorgeous if you’re into pre-Columbian fertility goddesses.”
He followed in her wake, watching the sway of her hips under her purple scrubs. Pregnant women didn’t usually excite him, but he had an overpowering urge to caress her and hold her miraculous body against his.
Inside the cabin, she dropped her satchel-size purse on the green plaid sofa and peeled off her light sweater. Her breasts were full and ripe. Troy suppressed a growl. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll ask the questions,” she said as she turned to the left and strode into the kitchen. Striding didn’t exactly describe the way she moved. She rolled a bit from side to side as though she were walking on the deck of a ship.
She turned on the water and reached for a glass from the cabinet to the right of the sink. “First question. How did you know where to find me?”
“Wasn’t hard. I called the hospital where you usually work and found out you were there. When I pulled into the parking lot and didn’t see your car, I came here.” He paused. “The nurse told me that you were with a mom who was having triplets. How did that work out?”
“Amazing. That word is overused. People say everything is amazing, but this really was. Truly a miracle.” Her grin was pure happiness. “Next question. What are you doing here?”
He was sick and tired of popping the question that was always answered with an emphatic no. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“Since we’re playing a question game,” he said, “I have one for you. One I’ve never asked before.”
She took another sip of water and eyed him suspiciously. “All right. Shoot.”
“When you found out you were pregnant, what made you decide to keep the baby?”
“Dumb question,” she said. “I love babies and always planned to have a family. Plus, I’m thirty, which is a good age for a healthy pregnancy. And you played a part in my decision.”
“Did I?”
“Of course,” she said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, look at you. You’re physically healthy and fairly intelligent. I’d have to say that you’re an excellent candidate to be a sperm donor.”
“Gee, thanks.”
She crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator and reached for the handle. Her hand dropped to her side. Frozen, she stared at the white refrigerator door where dozens of photographs were attached with magnets.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“There was a photo of me, my sister and our parents on a vacation we took last year. It’s missing.”
“Are you certain?”
She pointed to a vacant space on the refrigerator door. “It was right here. And it’s gone. Someone was in my cabin.”
Chapter Two
After Troy got down on his hands and knees to check around the edges of the cabinets and the floor where a photo might have fallen, he was ready to believe her. An intruder or intruders had entered her cabin and stolen a picture from the fridge. Why bother? A straightforward burglary would have made more sense.
“I want you to look around,” he said. “See if anything else was taken, maybe jewelry or documents.”
“I don’t have any valuable jewelry.”
“A family photo doesn’t have any intrinsic value, either. Just take a look.”
He followed her as she quickly rifled through a small jewelry box in her bedroom. In the living room, she sat at her desk and started sorting through the file drawers.
His thoughts focused on risk assessment. On intelligence missions, he was accustomed to walking into a situation and determining the course of action. He needed to know why her house had been broken into. If he figured out what the bad guys wanted, he’d know how far they’d go to get it.
“Was there anything unusual in that photo?” he asked.
“Not really. We were standing in the backyard at my sister’s house in Denver.”
“Who took the picture?”
“My sister’s boyfriend.”
“Tell me about the background. And the clothing.”
Olivia squinted as she remembered. “It was at a family barbecue last summer. There was a blue spruce behind us. We were all dressed casual. My dad had on a god-awful pair of plaid
