Dylan and the Baby Doctor. Sherryl Woods

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grasping that what he was hearing in her voice was a thread of panic she was trying hard to hide. “What’s going on?”

      “My friend, the doctor who works with me at the clinic, Kelsey James…have you met her?”

      Although he’d met dozens of people at the wedding and on subsequent visits, no image came to mind. “I don’t think so.”

      “Well, it’s about her little boy, Bobby. Something’s happened.”

      Dylan’s heart began to thud dully. Something told him he didn’t want to know the rest, but he forced himself to ask anyway. “What about him?”

      “He’s disappeared. She thinks he’s been kidnapped. Can you come, Dylan? Can you come right away?”

      “Just tell me where,” he said grimly, beckoning for paper and pencil. As soon as he had them, he jotted down the directions. “Have you talked to the police?”

      “Justin’s here now,” she said, referring to her nephew who also happened to be the local sheriff. “He needs help, though. Kelsey wants this kept quiet. She won’t let him call in the FBI or anyone else from outside.”

      The knee-jerk reaction of a panicked parent—or something more? “Why?” he asked.

      “Let her explain. Just come. Please.”

      “I’m on my way.”

      “What?” Trish demanded, already standing as he reached for his jacket. “Why did Lizzy call you? What’s happened?”

      “It’s about somebody named Kelsey. Her little boy’s disappeared.”

      “Oh, no,” Trish whispered, suddenly glancing at Laura as if to reassure herself that her daughter was right where she belonged. She regarded him worriedly. “Dylan, I don’t know about this. Are you sure this is something you should get involved in? I know you’re the best and I adore Kelsey and Bobby, but won’t this be too hard?”

      “I can’t just turn my back,” he said, wondering what the look Trish exchanged with Hardy was all about. “You obviously know this Kelsey person. Is there something more that I should know?”

      “No,” Trish insisted.

      She said it without looking at him, which sure as anything meant she was covering up something. Trish had never been able to lie worth a hoot.

      “Trish?”

      “Just go.”

      He thought Hardy looked every bit as guilty as his sister, but he didn’t have time to try to find out what they were hiding. If he didn’t like the answers he got from Kelsey James, he’d come back here for the missing pieces.

      “I’ll try to call,” he said, “but don’t wait up for me.”

      “If you need people for a search, call me,” Hardy said. “I can get all the men from White Pines to help out.”

      “Thanks. Let’s see what’s going on first.”

      If he had been anyplace other than Los Pin˜os, Dylan would have called one of his buddies to take over right this second, because Trish was right—searching for missing kids tore him up inside. But there weren’t a lot of private detectives nearby and time was critical in a situation like this. He had no choice. All he could do was pray that this disappearance would have a happy ending.

      Kelsey felt as if someone had ripped out her heart. Anyone who’d been through med school and worked in an emergency room was used to terrible stress and was able to think clearly in a crisis. Despite all that training, though, she hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought since the moment when she’d realized that Bobby was no longer playing in the backyard where she’d left him.

      She had simply stood staring blankly at the open gate, frozen, until adrenaline kicked in. Then she had raced to the street, pounded frantically on doors, trailed by bewildered, helpful neighbors as she’d searched futilely for her son. Although plenty of people were outside on such a sunny summer day, no one had seen him leave the yard. No one had seen him toddling down the street. A child Bobby’s age, alone, would have drawn attention.

      She had no idea how long it had been—minutes, an hour—before she concluded that Bobby hadn’t simply wandered away. By then both Justin and Lizzy had arrived, alerted by the neighbors. Justin had taken charge automatically, asking crisp, concise questions, organizing a search and leaving Lizzy to sit with her and try to keep her calm, when she wanted to be out searching herself.

      With neighbors crowded around wanting to help, talking in hushed voices, Kelsey didn’t feel calm, not after three cups of chamomile tea, not after the mild tranquilizer her friend had insisted she take. She wasn’t sure she would ever be calm again, not until she had her baby back in her arms. This was her worst nightmare coming true. It didn’t matter that no one had seen a stranger on the street. She knew what had happened. She knew who had taken Bobby. And why.

      “It’s Paul,” she whispered finally, forcing herself to say aloud what had been tormenting her from the moment she’d realized Bobby was gone. “He’s taken him. I know he has.”

      “You’re probably right,” Lizzy said, her tone soothing, as if she still feared that Kelsey would shatter at any second. “And I know you hate the man’s guts, but isn’t that better than a stranger? Paul won’t hurt Bobby. Despite what a louse I think he is, I know he loved Bobby. He just wants money or drugs and Bobby’s his bargaining chip. I think you can count on him being in touch. He’s not going to run with him. He’ll bring Bobby back the minute he gets what he wants.”

      “If he’s desperate, who knows what he’ll do?” Kelsey countered, shuddering.

      This wasn’t the old Paul, the one she’d fallen in love with. That Paul had been brilliant and driven and passionate. He had loved her in a way she’d never expected to be loved, charming her, convincing her in the end that he couldn’t live without her, that they shouldn’t wait till she finished med school or her residency to marry. It was ironic, really, that she’d struggled with the thought of marrying, just as Lizzy had, had finally rationalized that if Lizzy and Hank could juggle everything and make it work, so could she and Paul.

      She couldn’t exactly pinpoint when Paul had changed. Maybe he hadn’t, not really. Maybe the drive she’d so admired in him at first had always been an obsessive need to win, to get what he wanted when he wanted it. He’d gotten her. He’d gotten the perfect job at the right brokerage house, then slaved to be the top broker, the quickest to earn a promotion. He’d convinced her to have a baby, even when she’d been so sure it was too soon, that their schedules were too demanding.

      “We have the money. We can afford help,” he’d reasoned. “I want a family, while we’re still young.”

      Now, always now. But she had gone along, because he had wanted it so much and she had wanted to please him. When Bobby came, every doubt she had had vanished. He was perfect. Paul was ecstatic and more driven than ever. Their son was going to have the best of everything.

      “We have enough,” she had told him more than once. But it was never enough for Paul, not for a kid whose family had struggled while he was growing up. He told her again and again that he knew the real meaning of adversity and he was determined that his wife and son would never catch so much

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