the truth indefinitely.”
“I know. I’m thinking a few days, a week at most. I have some vacation time coming, and I can do a lot of the prep work for the cases I’m working on now via the computer. If I don’t turn up anything in that time, I’ll go with the DNA testing.”
“You’ll have to buy baby clothes and supplies. And you’ll need to borrow or rent a crib.”
“Just give me a list and tell me where to go to find the items. I’ll do the best I can. Right now I’m all the baby has. Well, me and Ashley.”
Ashley shook her head. “Don’t let that thought land as it flies through your mind. I have a career and an assignment that can’t be put on hold, and I will—”
“I’ll tell you what,” Lily said, warding off Ashley’s tirade. “Since Ashley’s already taken the day off, I’ll make a list and the two of you can shop for the needed supplies. I’ll baby-sit while you’re doing that and try to make notes of things Kyle needs to know, like making sure the bottles and nipples are sterile and how to bathe the baby.”
“Beef,” Ashley asserted. “I’m supposed to be concentrating on a way to sell more beef to the citizens of Texas. Not on buying diapers.”
But the resignation in her voice was obvious. Kyle was certain he’d won this bout, thanks to Lily. He would never have deliberately used the baby to get to Ashley, but he might as well play the cards he’d been dealt. A man with a baby. No woman could resist them.
Unless the baby was his for life.
* * *
LILY WATCHED Ashley and Kyle walk out the door. Kyle Blackstone was not what she’d expected from Ashley’s previous descriptions of him. He did have the great body she’d mentioned, the dark, wavy hair and the easy smile, but he had an aura of genuineness that had caught her off guard.
Still, the morning’s phone call warning Ashley to beware of him made her nervous. Add to that the fact that Ashley knew nothing concrete about him except that he was an attorney with a prominent firm and attracted women the way her black slacks grabbed lint. And he was awfully hesitant to go to the authorities or have DNA testing conducted.
But a few phone calls, a few record checks, and she’d likely find out all she needed to know about Kyle Blackstone. She wouldn’t even mention this to Cole and Dylan unless she found out something they needed to know. Cole would be upset that she was conducting any kind of investigation when she was supposed to be taking it easy until the baby was born. And Dylan had a tendency to blow everything out of proportion if it even remotely involved the safety of their little sister.
Walking to the bedroom door, she peeked in on the baby. The darling was still sleeping soundly, likely as exhausted as Ashley and Kyle had been from the change in her schedule. Lily spread her hands across the bulge of her stomach as her own baby kicked hard against the lining of the womb.
It wouldn’t be long now, and she’d be able to stare at her own baby as she slept. The anticipation filled her with an eagerness like none she’d ever known before. A sweet yearning that made her arms ache to hold her own child in her arms. Yet the mother of this baby had put her child in a basket and walked away.
The situation wasn’t unheard of. In fact, she’d run into problems caused by child desertion more than once since she’d gone into the business of finding missing persons—some firsthand, others in her research. Young mothers who didn’t know where to turn. Emotionally unstable mothers who went over the edge and knew no other way to cry out for help. Uncaring mothers or those addicted to drugs or alcohol. Desperate mothers.
She hated to even imagine which category Tessa Ortiz fell into. Hated worse to think that Kyle might know things he wasn’t admitting. He seemed honest, deeply concerned, yet he was hesitant to do the thing most men would have considered first.
Find out if the baby was his.
Turning away, Lily walked to the phone, picked it up and punched in the number of a friend at police headquarters. Arrest records were always a good way to begin a search into a person’s past. She’d follow the paper trail and see if Kyle was merely a nice guy with a body like Adonis and the looks to rival Brad Pitt, or if Ashley’s caller had been right and he was a man to be avoided.
For the baby’s sake and for Ashley’s, she hoped he was the man he seemed. Unless her instincts were way off base, Ashley was already falling hard for the guy. Of course, Ashley would be the last to admit it.
* * *
“WE HAVE TO GIVE the baby a name,” Ashley said as they walked toward the baby section of the department store. “I can’t keep calling her sweetie.”
“We can call her Cupie.”
“Not me! How about Annie or Lucy? Or Janie?”
“I’m not good at this. You pick one.”
She thought for a minute, picturing the cherub face, the dark eyes. Deserted by her mother. “What about Casey?” she asked, turning down an aisle bordered by baby clothes. “It’s short for Casilda. The name means ‘unknown,’ and almost everything about her is unknown.”
“Casey?” He rolled the name off his tongue, then smiled. “I like it. Not that she’ll keep the name long. I’m still counting on her mother coming back for her—soon.”
“But until she does, she’s Casey. It fits.” She stopped and pulled an adorable pink frock from the rack and held it at arm’s length. “Look at this one. Lace and ruffles and tiny rows of smocking. We absolutely have to buy this for her.”
He fumbled for a price tag. When he found it, his mouth flew open. “Do you know how much this costs?”
“You get what you pay for.”
“Yeah, but I’m the one doing the paying.”
“But it’s so cute.”
“Cute? For that price, it should be a national treasure.”
“Wait until your daughter finds out you’re a cheapskate.”
“Don’t say daughter. It makes me nervous.” He held up the list Lily had made for him. “Nowhere on here does it say lace, ruffles and smocking at ridiculous prices.”
“It says clothes.”
“It says soft, sensible, unfettered clothes. Lace, ruffles and smocks are legally considered fetters.”
“We’re not in court, counselor. Just think how adorable Casey’s going to look when you show her off to all your friends.”
“She looks adorable in diapers. I have no intention of introducing her to my friends and you are having entirely too much fun spending my money.”
“I’m hanging out with you, Kyle. By no stretch of the imagination can that be called fun.” Except that it was. And not only because shopping was her second favorite pastime—right after work—but because, as much as she hated to admit it, Kyle was fun to be with, as long as they were only friends.
He pulled a pair of pajamas emblazoned with the Dallas Cowboys logo off the rack. “Now this is more like
