“After almost seven long months, Nina Fairchild and her son Dustin have been reunited,” the newscaster said.
Kit felt a wave of relief. She’d silently feared that the kidnapper had taken the wrong baby the night of the fire—that Derrick had tracked her and Andy, and mistakenly stolen Nina’s son.
Now the Fairchild baby was safe. Kit felt such gratitude that she hadn’t caused the poor woman’s pain. But at the same time, the newscast shattered any illusion that Kit could evade her past.
All these months, she’d hidden, terrified that Derrick would find her and Andy. As she’d watched her son grow and flourish, she’d convinced herself she’d done the right thing. Including lying to Dr. Bernard to get her job as a nanny. And lying to Tim Anderson so he’d pay her cash and there’d be no record of her employment.
But the moment she saw her face on TV, she knew she hadn’t hidden well enough. She couldn’t take the chance that Derrick hadn’t seen the newscast somehow. Or at least hadn’t heard about it.
She looked down at her son sleeping peacefully in his crib. Her heart thrummed with the sound of his rhythmic breathing. Tears welled in her eyes—tears of fear, anger and regret. She wiped at them, filled with another emotion, this one stronger than all the others put together: the need to protect her son. It felt almost primitive. She would give her life for Andy’s.
She covered her son with a blanket and wondered if she would ever be able to find a place where they would be safe. As she began to pack, the answer chilled in her heart, filling her with terror.
As long as Derrick Killhorn was after her, no safe place existed.
Luke wasn’t surprised the next morning when he tailed Sanders to the office of Dr. Bernard, the obstetrician who’d probably delivered Kit’s baby.
Only minutes later, Sanders came out smiling. And Luke had to give him credit. He’d gotten the information—and fast. Luke figured Sanders had greased a few palms: that would be the Killhorn way.
Luke waited, knowing the moment Sanders got into his rental car that he’d call his brother.
“I’ve got her,” Sanders said excitedly into the cell phone. “She’s working as a nanny in Galveston. I’m headed there now.”
Luke would have loved to hear what Derrick was saying, because he was obviously giving Sanders instructions—long, detailed ones.
“Well, you know her better than I do,” Sanders said, sounding dubious. “Okay. Sure, I can do that. Huntsville? No, don’t worry, I can convince her. All right, I’ll meet you up at the airport, one way or the other.”
Convince her to what? Luke wondered. Whatever it was, he didn’t like the sound of it.
He followed Sanders at a safe distance into an old Galveston neighborhood with its neat rows of oncelavish houses. The sun hung high, the day was hot and humid, a sure sign of an approaching storm. But that was the least of Luke’s worries. He had to get to Kit—before Derrick did.
Luke parked where he could watch Sanders approach the house and ring the doorbell. The house was large and sat on at least an acre of wooded land. Secluded, Luke thought. Ideal for his purposes.
And Sanders’s?
He watched Sanders ring the bell again and wait. No one appeared at the door.
Luke swore under his breath. What if Kit had also seen the news program on television last night—and had taken off again? And just when he was so close.
Luke saw Sanders turn as if he’d heard something in the backyard. As Sanders started around the side of the building, Luke climbed out of the car with his equipment and headed into the trees beside the house.
The oaks had grown large and thick, making a perfect place to hide. Luke put on the headset and picked up the sound of a baby whimpering.
Through the branches, he could make out a woman with two infants in a double baby stroller on a patio in the shade of a large old oak. She was bent over, cooing softly to the fussing infant, when Sanders walked up behind her.
“Hi, Kit,” Sanders said.
The woman jumped as if he’d touched her with a cattle prod. She spun around, fright evident in every line of her body. Even from this distance, Luke could see that she was ready to run. What in God’s name had happened in Montana to make her this afraid?
Luke feared he already knew the answer.
* * *
“WHERE’S DERRICK?” Kit cried, fighting back a scream as her gaze leaped to look behind Sanders. “Where is he?” She reached for the stroller, her only thought to get the babies inside to safety.
“Kit, I’m here alone.” Sanders had moved toward her, but stopped and held his hands out, palms up. She tightened her grip on the stroller, ready to run if she had to. “I’m here to help you.”
“Help me? Derrick sent you to find me.” She knew that Sanders acted as mediator, keeping peace and settling little problems for his older brother, and had since they were boys. Why else would he be here now?
“Kit, I’ve been worried sick about you,” Sanders said. “I’m so glad I finally found you.”
“How did you find me?” she said, glancing past him, afraid Derrick would appear at any moment.
“I saw you on TV last night.”
Just as she’d feared. “I’d hoped Derrick had stopped looking for me.”
Sanders smiled sadly, as if her innocence amazed him. “Kit, why did you run away in the first place?”
Didn’t he know? She edged a little closer to the house.
“I’m not here to hurt you. You can tell me what’s going on. I’m your friend.”
She looked into his eyes and saw the same kindness she’d always seen there. Sanders had been her only friend in Big Sky. The only one Derrick allowed her.
“Are we friends?” she asked. “You’re Derrick’s brother. You work for him. I’m sure that’s why you’re here.”
“That’s not the only reason.” He glanced into the stroller at the baby in blue. “I heard I have a nephew. He’s adorable, Kit.”
She nodded, her pride in her son hard to contain. At one time, she’d been excited at the prospect of Sanders being an uncle to her baby. She’d wanted Andy to have the family she’d never had.
“What’s his name?” Sanders asked.
“Andrew. After my father.” She saw disapproval in Sanders’s eyes. Derrick had been determined the baby would be a boy—and would be named Derrick Killhorn Junior.
“Derrick’s
