hold her up. She looked whiter than a sheet of paper and about to crumple.
“There’s no mistake. Riana’s family wants her back. I’m here to make sure that happens, and help you find your daughter.” And to prove to himself that he was the kind of cop, the kind of man his grandfather had wanted him to be.
After the Lopez case, he’d transferred out of the Robbery Special Section, a bureaucratic misnomer because it handled both robbery and kidnapping investigations, into the Rape Special Section in what he saw as a strategic career move. Because of his excellent record, he was assigned high-profile rapes and serial rapist investigations and promoted to Detective II, but over time he began to perceive his transfer and his new achievements as an act of cowardice rather than a step up the departmental ladder. He’d turned his back on the children who’d needed him. He was no longer the man he’d thought he was.
The Collingwood case—or Operation Bassinet as his new employer called it—was his chance to find himself again. Failure was not an option.
Stef stared in numb disbelief at the blond Hollywood Goliath. She no longer thought that his butt was of the same superior grade as her favorite movie star’s. Or that his eyes were the dark cobalt of her Mexican glassware. He was the ugliest, most horrid waste of tanned skin she’d ever seen. And she’d bet his sun-bleached-blond hair wasn’t even natural.
“You’re lying. Or it’s a mistake…or…” She gulped a cleansing breath, pushing her hands out as if ridding the air of toxins. She had to think clearly here, but apples and bananas were whirling in a merry-go-round pattern in her head.
The Neanderthal-brained ex-cop was more likely to see reason and come to the conclusion he’d made a mistake if she stayed calm. She pasted on the let’s-be-reasonable smile she’d reserved for unruly passengers in her former days as a flight attendant. “First of all, how could you possibly have DNA evidence that says Keely isn’t my daughter?”
His cobalt eyes drilled into her, dead serious. There was nothing reasonable about his tone. Each word lacked compromise and lacerated her heart. “Mrs. Shelton, the Foundation received a ransom demand eight days ago. Two items were included with the note— Riana’s hospital identification bracelet and two hairs. A reputable lab conducted DNA tests which told us that while the bracelet had traces of Riana Collingwood’s DNA on it, the hair came from another child. It led us to believe that there were at least two people involved in Riana’s abduction and that one of them was afraid of being double-crossed so they switched Riana with another baby. Whoever sent the ransom note is obviously unaware that they have the wrong child. We checked nearby hospitals for infant girls admitted during that time and came up with a list of possible matches. I collected Keely’s drinking cup from your yard the other day when you and Keely were raking leaves and cleaning up your Halloween decorations. Her DNA matched Riana Collingwood’s DNA. She is Riana Collingwood.”
The idea of this man wandering around her yard—snooping for evidence so he could rip her daughter from her life infuriated her. Her hands fisted on her hips. “You were in my yard, spying on us?”
He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “I saw no reason to upset you unnecessarily. Keely was only one of many children we were investigating.”
Stef wanted to claw his iceberg heart out. He was demolishing her world—and her heart—with one crushing sentence after another. “This is insane. You’re not taking my baby from me!” She faltered, blindsided by a memory of the second night she’d spent in the hospital with Keely.
She remembered awakening to the sound of her hospital door closing. Oh, God!
Full-blown panic gripped her heart. What if the person who’d entered her room hadn’t been a nurse? What if the Hollywood Goliath was actually telling the truth?
“I want other tests done at a lab of my choosing,” she snapped, clutching the arm of her chair for support.
“Of course. No one wants to make a mistake with a matter this serious.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree to that demand, which convinced her this was no joke. She lurched to her feet. Her sister Lorraine worked in a law firm as a paralegal. She could help her find a lawyer. “I’m calling a lawyer.”
He stood up, too, towering over her. For a second the serious intensity of his expression shifted to something that bordered on genuine sympathy. She had the distinct impression he was about to touch her, but then he locked his expression up tight and threw away the key.
“I’d rather you not do that,” he said.
“Why? Because I’ll discover this is some scam? I think it’s time you left, Mr. Halloran.”
His jaw flexed into an intractable bulkhead, his mouth a flat line. He removed a paper from his pocket. “Read this. It’s the ransom note from the kidnappers.”
Stef heard time throb in her temples like a hammer striking a stake as she made herself take the note from his strong brown fingers. Fingers that were strong enough to take her baby from her. But he’d have to kill her first!
She read the note, each terrifying word.
Riana Collingwood is alive. She is a bright, pretty child with her father’s eyes and her mother’s smile. Prepare a five million dollar cash ransom and await further instruction.
Five million dollars! Oh, God, that wasn’t good.
Neither was the last line.
Involve the police this time and lose her forever.
Stef started to hyperventilate.
The man who had just destroyed her life took her elbow, his hand hot as the devil’s touch. “Hey, sit back down. Now bend forward and put your head between your knees, okay?
“Just breathe.”
She did what he ordered, even though what she really wanted to do was to smack him.
He sat on the arm of the chair and she felt the tentative stroke of his hand on her back like a zap of electricity. “I wouldn’t advise bringing a third party into this now. It could put your real child’s life in danger.”
She sat bolt upright, still gulping for air.
“I’m assuming that the hair samples the kidnapper sent belong to your real daughter. We’ll have to do tests immediately to confirm that. Regardless, the Foundation will cooperate fully with the kidnapper’s demand and pay the ransom.” He rubbed a slow circle that burned into her skin and made her forget all about breathing. “There’s no kind or gentle way to say this—if the kidnapper realizes he has the wrong child, he could kill your daughter.”
Stef glared at him, his Hollywood-handsome face inches from hers. She’d heard all she could take. Tears welled in her eyes. God, somewhere in Mitch Halloran there had to lurk a touch of humanity. He’d tried to soothe her when she’d started to hyperventilate and he was stroking her back, infusing her with the iron-core strength of his hand.
“Please, can’t you just go away? The Collingwoods are dead. Just say it’s a mistake. No one will know. Mistakes happen all the time in labs, don’t they?”
His cobalt eyes flickered like shadows in the night, indicating he was considering her request. Her heart filled with hope as she prayed he’d relent.
“Is
