racing through her head and instead used her determined stride to eat up the distance between Dr. Keyes and her.
Her footsteps, or maybe something else, alerted him, because his head whipped up, and he spun around to face her. His entire body seemed to go stiff, and his watery blue eyes widened with what appeared to be a combination of recognition and concern.
“Ms. Nash,” he said, his words muted because of the relentless slapping of rain on their umbrellas.
“Dr. Keyes.” It took Delaney several moments to tamp down the emotion just so she could speak. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past two days.”
He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and extracted his keys. He checked his watch and gave an impatient glance around the parking lot. “I’ve been busy, and unfortunately I don’t have time to see you now. You can call my office and make an appointment.”
And with that cool, attempted dismissal, the doctor turned to leave. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not until she’d gotten what she came for. Delaney latched on to his arm and held on as if he were her last hope.
Which unfortunately wasn’t too far from the truth.
“I’ve already tried to make an appointment. Several times. Your office claimed you were booked solid,” Delaney accused. “And I don’t think it’s my imagination that you’re trying to avoid me. Guess what? It won’t work.”
He didn’t deny the part about avoiding her. Nor did he offer any polite excuse for why he hadn’t responded to the dozen or so frantic messages she’d left with his secretary and answering service. What he did do was look again uneasily around the parking lot.
“This isn’t a good place to talk,” he informed her.
It was a dismissal, one that riled Delaney to the core, and he no doubt would have left it at that if she hadn’t dug her fingers into his arm and held on. “This might not be a good place to talk, but it’ll have to do. Neither of us is leaving until you explain why a representative from a medical watchdog group—Physicians Against Unethical Practices—called me.”
Oh, that stopped him cold.
Dead cold.
Dr. Keyes met her gaze head-on. Gone were the dismissals and the annoyance at her interruption, and Delaney thought she saw some fear.
An emotion she totally understood.
Because she was afraid.
Terrified, really.
For her son.
And for what might have already happened to him.
“This group contacted you?” Dr. Keyes asked.
Delaney nodded and tried to keep her voice level. Hard to do with the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “They implied that the New Hope clinic would soon be under federal investigation for some kind of illegal medical practices. Is that true?”
And Delaney held what was left of her breath. Waiting. Praying. Hoping that Dr. Keyes would deny it or else explain it all away.
That didn’t happen.
“What did you tell them?” the doctor demanded, and there was no doubt that his question was a demand. His wiry jaw turned to iron.
“Nothing. Because I don’t know anything to tell.” She paused a heartbeat. “But it’s my guess that you do.”
He shrugged, not exactly the declaration of innocence.
Delaney stepped closer, and she was sure her jaw muscles were steely, as well. She also made sure some of that steel crept into her eyes. “Let’s take a little trip down memory lane here. Fifteen months ago I came to New Hope when I found out I was infertile. I desperately wanted a baby, and you arranged for a donor embryo. It worked on the first try. I got pregnant, and I delivered my son four months ago.”
Because she had no choice, Delaney paused to gather her breath and her courage. Because what she had to say would take every ounce of courage that she could marshal. “Now, I’ve learned that the clinic might have done something illegal to the embryo that became my son. Maybe some cellular experiments. DNA manipulation—whatever. Something that could perhaps make him sick…or worse.”
No amount of strength could have stopped the tears that sprang to her eyes. Hot tears that burned against the cool rain speckling her lashes. Delaney fought the tears, and lost. The fear and dread were overwhelming.
Dr. Keyes or someone else at the clinic might have used her son as a guinea pig, and those experiments might have irreversible long-term effects.
“I have to think about this,” Dr. Keyes said. He gestured toward his car. “I’ll be in touch.”
Delaney caught the front of his jacket and wadded up the fabric so she had a firm grip. “You’ll tell me what you know now,” she said through clenched teeth. “Did you do something to my son?”
He mumbled something under his breath. Cursed. And looked as if he would prefer to be in the deepest pit of hell rather than talking to her.
Seconds crawled by, with the rain pelting them, and Delaney wasn’t sure the doctor would even answer her. She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t. Still, she was desperate, and she’d use that desperation to get him to talk.
“Any idea if the watchdog group contacted Ryan McCall as well?” Dr. Keyes asked.
The question caused her stomach to land in the vicinity of her knees.
Of all the things she’d anticipated the doctor might say, that wasn’t one of them.
“Ryan McCall?” Delaney managed to repeat. Not easily though. The man’s name always seemed to stick like wet clay in her throat. “Why would they contact him about illegal medical practices at the New Hope clinic? He has nothing to do with any of this.”
Judging from the panicky stare that Dr. Keyes gave her, and from his suddenly wobbling Adam’s apple, he thought differently.
Well, he was wrong.
He had to be.
Her old nemesis, Ryan McCall, had no connection to her son. None. McCall was a different part of her past. A past she dearly wanted to forget. Of course, forgetting wasn’t entirely possible. Every time she heard her father’s accusing voice and saw his scarred wrists, she got a harsh reminder that Ryan McCall, one of the most affluent and ruthless businessmen in the state, had tried to destroy her family.
And in many ways, he’d succeeded.
Heck, he was still succeeding.
“Look,” Dr. Keyes grumbled. “Let’s get in my car. It’s probably not a good idea for us to stand out here discussing this. The watchdog group employs P.I.s. They could have followed you.”
Delaney stayed put. “Answers,” she demanded. “Now. And quit stalling.”
His suddenly intense, almost angry stare drilled into her. “You’re really going
