as you put it.”
Warrick glanced over his shoulder toward C.J. She nodded. “Okay, just for a few more minutes.”
Diane paused at the door, the men in her life waiting for her to join them in the hall. Placing a hand on Warrick’s shoulder, she raised herself up on her toes and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Thank you for being there for her.”
His smile was almost shy. “Just a matter of being in the right place at the right time.”
“I’m glad it was you.” She turned toward her daughter, beaming. Her baby had had a baby. “You did good, honey. I’ll see you in the morning. And don’t forget, think of some names.”
C.J. nodded. Warrick let the door close and then crossed to her. “You really don’t have any names?”
She shrugged her shoulders. The hospital gown slipped off one, and she tugged it back into place. “Not a one.”
He shook his head. She had been damned determined not to allow her pregnancy to interfere with her work. No one knew until it was absolutely necessary. The only reason he’d found out before the others was because he’d stumbled onto her condition completely by accident. While on a stakeout, she would periodically bolt out of the car and dash for the closest bathroom. It didn’t take him long to figure out she wasn’t battling food poisoning but morning sickness.
Warrick leaned against the wall, studying her. “Never knew you to be this unprepared before, Jones.”
She offered him a wan smile, her mind half a world away. This was supposed to have been a happy time. Instead she’d just joined the ranks of single motherhood with all its scary ramifications. Served her right for veering from her course and thinking that maybe she’d been one of the lucky ones to find someone special. What had led her down this primrose path was that her parents seemed so happy together. It had made her believe that marriages, if not made in heaven, certainly created one of their own. Well, Thorndyke had certainly set her straight about that.
“Some things,” she murmured, “you’re never prepared for.”
Something inside of his gut tightened. He knew she was thinking about Thorndyke. Warrick could feel his blood pressure going up several notches at the very thought of the man and his emotional abandonment of C.J. This time he kept his comment to himself. She’d been through hell, and he didn’t want to agitate her right now with any negative comments about the poster boy for slime. Thorndyke had obviously made her happy once and whatever did that was okay with him.
At least, he tried to tell himself that, although how she could be happy, even for a moment, with that shallow pretty boy was beyond him. If he didn’t know better, he would have said he was experiencing a bout of jealousy. But he did know better.
Rather than use the chair beside her, Warrick sat down on the bed and looked at C.J. for a long moment. That strange, funny feeling he’d gotten the moment he’d held her daughter in his hands hadn’t completely dissipated. On the contrary, alone with C.J. like this, it seemed to take on more depth and breadth. He still couldn’t put a name to it. Maybe it was better that way.
He looked at her pointedly. “He should know.”
She’d expected another put-down of her ex-lover. She certainly didn’t think Warrick was going to push for any sort of contact. C.J. raised her chin defensively. “He knows.”
“You called him?” There hadn’t been any time, unless she’d done it while he was filling out her insurance papers at the registration desk.
C.J. looked away, in no mood for a lecture. “I told him I was pregnant, A baby is usually the end result of that condition.”
Cupping her face, he made her look at him. “You weren’t that sure,” he reminded her.
She pulled her head back. So he was Tom’s champion now? “I don’t count.”
A very soft smile curved Warrick’s mouth as he said quietly, “Yes, you do.” And then he straightened. “Thorndyke doesn’t know he has a daughter.”
Their last conversation together, the one that was littered with words like, “no strings” and “hey, how I do I know it’s even mine?” played itself over in her head. She’d hated Thorndyke for that, hated him for making what they’d shared seem tawdry and cheap. The one time she’d let her guard down and it had to be with the wrong man.
And now her partner was just making things worse. “He doesn’t want to know.” She raised her voice. “Will you leave it alone, Warrick? He’s like you. No strings.”
Warrick’s brows narrowed over stormy eyes. There was no way he’d allow himself to be compared to the other man. “He’s not like me. I’d want to know. I wouldn’t have left you to begin with.”
The tightly reined-in emotion in his voice surprised her. “You didn’t,” she told him.
He’d almost lost it just then. Maybe this whole baby thing had him more wound up than he thought. Warrick cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know. Do you want me to find him?”
Did he really think she didn’t know where her baby’s father was? “No need.”
Warrick looked into her eyes. He was the detail person and she was the one who went in like gangbusters, but it was stupid of him to think for a second that she wouldn’t keep tabs on Thorndyke, if only to make sure there was space between them.
“You know where he is, don’t you?”
“He’s in D.C.,” she told him crisply, and then added, “And if you get in contact with him in any way, I’ll rip your heart out.”
He laughed softly, letting the matter go. After all, it was her life. And maybe he was even a little relieved that she didn’t want to see Thorndyke, though there was no way he would ever have admitted to that.
“Always the delicate lady.”
A little of the luster returned to her eyes. “And don’t you forget it.” There had been only one detail about her pregnancy that she’d planned. “Now, are you going to be the baby’s godfather?”
The request, coming out of the blue, almost rendered him speechless. It took him a second to recover. “I’d be honored.”
She shrugged, trying not to let him see how much it meant to her to have him agree to be her baby’s godfather. “Just be there. Otherwise I’d have to substitute one of my brothers and that’s like putting a double whammy on the baby. Grossly unfair.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” He rose. It was time to go. There were only five hours until morning. “So, you want me to draw up a list for you?”
The question caught her off guard. She thought of the case she’d been poring over when this had all started. “Of suspects?”
“Of possible names.” She was unbelievable. “Damn it, C.J., you just gave birth. How can you be thinking about serial killers at a time like this?”
He didn’t understand, did he? Now it was personal. “Because I just gave birth to a little girl not unlike thirteen other little girls, that’s why I can be thinking about bringing
