When Meredith wasn’t successful, Esterman had no choice but to use me as a middleman.”
Of course. They probably hadn’t wanted to involve Jared since he was a cop, but he was one of the few people who could get to her. That one little detail had embroiled him in all of this.
He turned to type something on the keyboard, and Rachel saw the scar. An angry slice across his chest, just below his heart. She actually took a step back, to put some distance between her and that brutal reminder of what had happened nearly eighteen months earlier.
“Pretty disgusting, huh?” she heard him say.
Only then did Rachel realize she’d been staring at his chest.
Unable to answer him, she merely shook her head. Disgusting wasn’t the right word. More like distressing. The injury had nearly killed him. In fact, the doctors told her that his heart had stopped beating while he was in surgery.
Jared shrugged and went to the closet. He grabbed two T-shirts off hangers, slipped on one and handed the other one to her. “They tell me it’ll fade with time.”
The scar would, yes. The memory of it wouldn’t. Nor would the rift it had caused between them.
In the end, the event that had caused that scar had also cost them their marriage. For Rachel, it had been easier to fall out of love with Jared than to risk another nightmare like that. She’d had enough nightmares to last a lifetime.
Rachel changed her shirt in the tiny bathroom and hung the other up to dry. She turned to leave, but first made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. No makeup. Her hair was soaking wet. She was much too pale. She looked even worse than she felt—something she hadn’t thought possible.
“We’re connected to the Internet,” Jared called out. “Think you can try to find out some information about Sasha Young’s last known address?”
“I’ll try.” Glad that she could do something to get her mind off their situation, Rachel went back into the room and took the seat in front of the computer.
Jared moved the envelope closer to her, and she noticed the address written on the outside. “I got that from Aaron Merkens,” he explained. “It’s supposedly a rental house on the south side of town, but it could be bogus. There was no phone listing for it. While you’re doing that, I need to call Tanner.”
Jared took out his cell phone and walked into the kitchen to make his call. Rachel didn’t waste any time. She used some of her CPA knowledge and located the real estate tax records for the county. With any luck, the actual owner of the property would be listed.
While she waited for the file to load, she glanced at the envelope. She already knew it contained the photos of the dead woman and the baby, but she was almost afraid to find out what other surprises it held—especially since they were dealing with Esterman here.
Trying to ignore the envelope, Rachel quickly scanned the tax information on the screen, but it wasn’t good news. The owner of the rental property was a corporation. Probably a dummy company at that. If Esterman owned the house, he was too smart not to bury that information under layers of paperwork.
She fed in the next search to try to find out more information about the corporation, while toying with the flap on the envelope. Rachel tried to talk herself out of opening it, but even knowing that the contents could break her heart, she couldn’t stop herself. The first thing she saw when she glanced inside was the photo of the baby.
It took her a moment just to find her breath and longer to steady it. As if it were fragile and might shatter in her hand, she lifted it out and placed it neatly on the table next to the computer. She hadn’t really looked at the image when Jared tried to hand it to her in the bedroom at the safe house, but she studied it now.
The tiny round face was perfect. Beautiful. A delicate mouth. A spattering of bronze-colored hair on his head. The color of Jared’s hair. Of course, that meant nothing. Lots of babies had brown hair.
He could be anyone’s child. Anyone’s. And Esterman could be using him the same way he’d used dozens of other people over the three years she’d worked for him. Still, Rachel couldn’t seem to take her gaze off that precious little face.
His eyes were closed in what appeared to be a peaceful sleep. She prayed that it was indeed peaceful, and that he had no comprehension whatsoever of the danger he was in.
God.
He was in danger because Esterman had chosen to use him as a pawn in a very sick game.
But was this her baby?
Was this the child she’d desperately wanted but had given up hope of ever having?
The memories of her infertility blended together with the tormenting thoughts of the baby. Looking back on it, Jared had never seemed as committed to having a child as she had. He hadn’t objected. Not really. But then, he hadn’t poured his whole heart into it, either. He’d proven that when he refused to let her use the fertilized embryos immediately after they separated. He hadn’t wanted to bring a child into a broken relationship.
Or so he said.
At the time, his steadfast refusal had felt like the ultimate slap in the face. It still did. If she hadn’t gotten involved with the undercover investigation into Esterman’s wrongdoings, she almost certainly would have pursued the issue in court. That was the only reason the embryos still had been in storage. So, in a way it was her fault that Esterman had been able to carry things through to this point.
She touched the photograph again, running her fingertips over the baby’s mouth. His lips were pursed slightly as if he’d just had a bottle. That brought on another wave of fear and panic. Were they feeding him? Was there anyone to hold him when he cried?
Rachel wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt a tear slide down her cheek. More followed, and though she tried to choke it back, the sound of her sob cut through the room.
Jared was suddenly there, next to her. He didn’t reach out for her. Thank God—she didn’t think she could handle that right now.
“I’m sorry,” Rachel whispered, shaking her head. “I tried to hold it together.”
“No apology necessary.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”
“Still, the tears won’t help. They never do.” She swiped the rest of them away. “You’re the only man who’s ever seen me cry. You know that?”
“Women tell me that all the time.” Jared smiled. “I’m not sure it’s a compliment.”
It was the right thing to say. A lighthearted and typical Jared comeback to diffuse an otherwise tense moment. Rachel wanted to give in to it, to sit there and let him comfort her. But she couldn’t. If she took that kind of comfort from him, it would be too easy to fall back into the same old patterns.
Jared was still a cop. A cop who put duty above anything else, including his own life.
And that would always be there between them.
Rachel stifled the rest of her tears and returned to the computer. But Jared didn’t move. He stood there staring down at her. When
