after midnight out there. Where are you? Are my babies okay?”
Patti.
Hoping she’d find a phone attached to the machine recording the woman’s voice, Annie hustled up the stairs.
“You wouldn’t believe the trouble I’ve had finding a phone. Anyway, I’m all right, but—”
By the time Annie got to the top of the stairs, dashed across the short hall and into a master bedroom that was the mirror image of hers, it sounded as if the woman had been cut off.
Annie found the phone on a nightstand beside a badly rumpled king-size bed.
She answered but was too late. The dial tone buzzed in her ear.
She turned on a lamp and checked the phone for caller ID, but the cordless model didn’t have an ID window. She tried *69, but got an error message.
Great.
If the woman on the phone had been Patti, it seemed that she either didn’t want to be found or was having technical difficulties.
Annie sat on the edge of the bed.
From talking to Jed, she got the impression that he thought his sister had suffered some kind of emotional breakdown, then taken off on a joyride. But the woman on the phone sounded weary—not at all like she was off having fun. Her voice was full of concern—quite the opposite of a woman who’d abandoned three newborns with her bachelor brother. A brother who obviously didn’t know the first thing about caring for infants.
Waaaaaaa huh waaaaaaa!
Maybe it was time to quit playing detective and start playing temporary mom.
She smoothed the down-filled pillow on the bed and breathed in the room’s heady male scent.
Oh, boy.
Annie had the feeling she’d entered a definite danger zone.
Bedrooms were highly personal places.
They told a lot about people.
But since she was wasn’t interested in dating just yet, Annie didn’t want to know how sumptuous Jed’s navy-blue sheets felt against her skin. Or how they smelled of fabric softener and just a touch of his aftershave that had already made her heart race.
She especially didn’t want to see the really great framed print over his bed. Gauguin’s And the Gold of Their Bodies.
She’d always loved that painting.
Interesting that Jed did, too.
The full-figured island women evoked paradise and pleasure.
Waaa huh!
On her way out of the room, Annie trailed her fingertips along the cool, dust-free surface of an ornate antique dresser.
She loved antiques.
The stories behind them.
Where had this piece come from? Was it a family heirloom? Or something Jed picked up at auction? Did he like auctions? Annie did. Maybe they could go together some time? Share a Frito-Lay chili pie during—
Waaaaaaaaahh!
Casting one last curious look around the room, Annie hustled downstairs.
She’d scooped Pia out of her carrier and was feeling her diaper for thickness when the phone rang.
If it was Patti, she wasn’t missing her.
Running up the steps, Annie cursed herself for not bringing the cordless phone downstairs.
“Hello?” she said, out of breath. By the glow of the lamp she’d forgotten to turn off, she stared into the blue eyes of a grinning, wide-awake baby.
“Hey, Annie. Good—you found the phone.” There went that curious flip-flopping in her stomach. Could it be because Jed sounded as hot over the phone as he did in person? No. And to prove it, she changed her focus to plucking Pia’s pink Velcro bow off her pajama sleeve where it was once again stuck to return it to her hair.
“Were you hiding it?” she asked.
“What?”
“The phone.”
“Nah, I keep forgetting to move it. Lightning fried the one downstairs.”
“Did you serve it with ketchup or tartar sauce?”
He groaned. “That stank.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“You’re forgiven. So? Everything going okay?”
“Sure. Pia’s up, but the boys are still sleeping. Oh—and your sister called.”
“You didn’t get to talk to her?”
“It took me forever to find the phone, and by the time I did, she’d been cut off.”
A long sigh came over the line.
Annie asked, “Want me to play the message for you?”
“Sure.”
She pressed the red button beside a blinking light, then held the phone to the speaker. When the woman’s voice abruptly ended, she said, “Well? That tell you anything?”
“Yep. Tells me to call off the cops and move on to Plan B.”
“What’s that?”
“Going to get her.”
“But you don’t know where she is.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
Annie shifted the cooing baby to her other arm. “Care to let me in on the secret?”
Chapter Three
In the specially designated cell phone waiting area, Patti held an ancient-model cell phone over her head, waving it back and forth in the hope of finding a signal. The man she’d borrowed it from, Clive Bentwiggins of Omaha, was visiting his mother. Clive was at least ninety-eight and on oxygen. The hissing from his portable tank sounded like wind shushing through the Grand Canyon.
“Get one yet?” Clive asked, cradling a cup of black coffee.
Edging toward the Coke machine, holding up her phone arm, Patricia shook her head. “I had one over by that fake ficus, but I—oh, here. Right here.” Yes. Between the Coke machine and a corral of IV poles, the light indicating a signal glowed an intense green.
“Dial fast,” Clive said. “Don’t want you getting cut off again.”
She cast her phone benefactor a smile and dialed
