cradled the child in one arm to shake her hand. “I raised three boys and a girl of my own, so I’ve had some practice. I’m Niall’s father.”
“I could tell by the family resemblance. Nice to meet you. You seem to be a natural.” Lucy stepped closer to tuck the loose blanket back around the tiny child’s head. The newborn’s scent was a heady mix of gentle soap and something slightly more medicinal. A tightly guarded longing stirred inside her, and she wanted to brush aside the wisp of dark brown hair that fell across the infant’s forehead. She wisely curled her fingers into her palm and smiled instead. “And this is...?”
Niall’s crisp voice sounded behind her. “I was hoping you could tell us.”
Lucy swiveled her head up to his as he moved in beside her. “I don’t understand. Isn’t the baby yours?” She glanced at Niall’s father. He was older, yes, but by her quick assessment, still a virile man. “My apologies. The baby is yours.”
“No, ma’am.”
The older man grinned, but Niall looked anything but amused when he reached across her to adjust the blanket she’d tidied a moment earlier. “I broke into your apartment, Miss McKane.”
“You? To steal twenty dollars? Why on earth would you do that?”
“I wasn’t the first intruder. I found a screwdriver that had apparently been used to break into your place.” He pulled a tiny gem from his pocket and held it up between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it until she could see the fracture in the clear red glass. “I believe this came off it.”
“A screwdriver?” Lucy clutched at her purse strap, the bittersweet joy of seeing the baby momentarily forgotten. Diana was in trouble. “A pink one with glitter on the handle?”
He picked up a bag marked with numbers and the scratch of his signature from the coffee table and folded the excess plastic out of the way so she could see the contents inside. “This one.”
“Oh, my God.” Lucy plucked the screwdriver from his open palm and turned it over in her hand. The room swayed at the instant recognition. Diana hadn’t wanted jewelry or dolls for birthdays and Christmas. She’d been a tomboy and tough-kid wannabe from their first meeting. Diana had wanted a basketball and running shoes and a toolbox, although she’d seemed pleased with the bling on this particular set. Lucy blinked away the tears that scratched at her eyes and tilted her face to Niall’s. “Where did you get this?”
“Is it yours?”
“Answer my question.”
“Answer mine.”
“Niall,” Thomas gently chided.
A deep, resolute sigh expanded Niall Watson’s chest before he propped his hands at his waist again in that vaguely superior stance that emphasized both his height and the width of his shoulders. If it wasn’t for his glasses and the spiky muss of his hair that desperately needed a comb, she might have suspected he had an ego to go with all that intellect. “Apparently, someone jimmied the locks on your door several hours before I got home, and I suspect they used that tool to do it. I let myself in when I heard this child crying in distress. I thought, perhaps, you weren’t being responsible—”
“With a child?” He thought...that she... Lucy didn’t know whether to cry or smack him. “I would never. My job is to protect children.”
“I know that.” Her burst of defensive anger eased as he continued his account.
“But then I suspected that you might be in some kind of distress yourself. I entered the premises to make sure you were all right.” He plucked the screwdriver from her fingers and returned it to the table along with the shattered bead and another bag that appeared to be holding the beginnings of the gray scarf she’d been knitting for a coworker. She could see now that the markings meant he’d labeled them all as evidence. “I found it on your kitchen counter beside the baby. I brought him here since there didn’t seem to be anyone else watching him. We’ve given him food, clean clothes and a bath. Other than a nasty case of diaper rash, he seems to be healthy.”
That explained the medicinal smell. “It’s a boy?” She turned back to the older man cradling the sleeping infant. “He was in my apartment? All alone?”
“I believe that’s what I’ve been saying.” Niall Watson could sound as irritated with her as he wanted. He’d saved this child, and for that, she would be forever grateful.
Lucy pressed her fingers to her mouth to hold back the tears that wanted to fall. Tears that wouldn’t do anyone any good. Diana’s cryptic phone message that had sent Lucy on a wild hunt all over Kansas City finally made sense. “That’s what she wanted to show me. I had no idea. The baby is what she wanted me to take care of. But why wouldn’t she stay, too?”
“What are you talking about, Miss McKane?”
“I have a favor to ask, Lucy. I don’t know who else to call. I need to show you something, and I need you to keep it safe.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?” Lucy whispered. She couldn’t help but reach out to stroke her finger across the infant’s cheek. His skin was as velvety soft as it looked, and she was instantly in love. “You precious little boy.”
“Do you know who is responsible for this child?” Niall asked.
“Possibly.” Lifting her gaze to Niall’s father, Lucy held out her hands. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Lucy sighed with a mixture of longing and regret as the baby’s sweet weight filled her arms and settled against her. “He’s so tiny. How old do you think he is?”
“I’d say a week. Two, tops,” Niall answered from behind her. “Obviously, pediatrics isn’t my area of expertise, but I know enough to handle the basics. I still think he needs to see a pediatric specialist to ensure a clean bill of health. Now what can you tell us about his parents?” Niall stepped aside as she circled the coffee table and sat on the edge of his sofa to hold the baby more securely. She heard a huff of what could be resignation a second before the cushion beside her sank with his weight. When she tumbled toward her tall neighbor at her shifting perch, his hands shot out to balance her shoulder and cradle her forearm that held the baby. “Easy. Don’t let go of him.”
“I couldn’t.”
Niall’s hand remained beneath her arm, making sure of her hold on the infant. His chest pressed against Lucy’s shoulder, and for a split second she was overcome by the normalcy of the family she’d never known and would never have. A mother, a father, a child they shared together. The yearning inside her was almost painful.
Blinking rapidly to dispel the impossible image of the brainy doctor cop and her creating a perfect little baby together, Lucy scooted away to break the contact between her and Niall Watson, although she could still feel that crazily addictive warmth he radiated. “What’s his name?” she asked, craving the information as much as she needed to put space between her and her errant fantasies.
“He didn’t come with an ID,” Niall answered. “He didn’t come with anything. Not even a fresh diaper. If you could answer at least some of my questions—”
“Son.” The older Watson chided the tone in Niall’s voice and offered her a smile. “I
