Page 2 of Protecting the Newborn

He stopped at the back corner of the house, peered around it. And because of the dim light coming from the porch, he saw the gun.

It was pointed right at his face.

He automatically drew his own gun. His body jolted, flooding with adrenaline, and he was ready to fight, to get that gun, but then he saw the face of the woman holding it. Not Lizzy and damn sure not the face of the woman in the driver’s license. However, it was someone he instantly recognized.

“Gracelyn Wallace,” he snapped.

His former partner at SAPD, and a woman he hadn’t seen in nearly a year. Correction—a woman he’d been trying to find for ten and a half months. He sure as heck hadn’t expected to find her here.

But she had obviously expected to see him.

There wasn’t any surprise in her expression, just a steely anger. And some fear. Yeah, she couldn’t mask that completely.

Her looks had changed plenty since he’d last laid eyes on her. No short, choppy blond hair but rather the shoulder-length brown that fit the description Marty had given him. Her face was thinner, as if she’d lost weight. And while she sort of resembled the photo on her driver’s license, it was obvious that was a fake.

“What are you doing here?” Ruston demanded, though he was pretty sure that was a question she’d been about to ask him.

Her crystal green eyes narrowed even more. “I’m trying to stay alive,” she snarled.

He hadn’t been sure how she would answer, but Ruston hadn’t expected that. “Alive?” he repeated. “Who’s trying to kill you?”

Gracelyn huffed, lowered her gun. “Well, I guess it’s not you.” She tipped her head to the eaves of the house. “I didn’t see anyone else with you. Are you alone?”

He glanced up at the eaves, and while it was too dark to spot a camera, one was obviously there. Hell. Whatever was going on, this was not the easy snatch and grab that Marty had said it would be.

“I’m alone,” he assured her, “and you’re in danger. But I’m guessing you already know that if you have cameras.”

“I have cameras and perimeter security. You tripped one of the sensors, and my phone immediately gave me an alert.” She made an uneasy glance around them. “Tell me why you’re here and then leave. I don’t have time for a long explanation.”

Ruston mentally replayed each word. That was a lot of security for someone who was no longer a cop. It was more of a setup that a criminal would have. Or someone scared to the bone.

He was going with door number two on this.

And he thought he knew why.

Over ten months ago, Gracelyn and he had had the undercover mission from hell. Deep-cover infiltration of what was basically a baby farm. A place where pregnant women had been held and then their babies had been sold. Some of the women hadn’t been there voluntarily either. Many were runaways who’d been scooped up by the SOBs who’d set up the operation. Others were illegal immigrants. Some were victims of human trafficking.

The operation hadn’t been sloppy or easy to break into, but Gracelyn and he had managed it by being hired as security guards. They’d been in the facility for less than twenty-four hours and had managed to get absolutely nothing on the person or persons running the place when they realized their covers had been blown. That had become crystal clear when thugs had come into their quarters to murder them. They’d managed to escape, barely, but had then ended up in a seedy motel together, waiting for some fellow undercover cops to come and get them.

Ruston had a lot of nightmarish memories of that night.

And some memories that weren’t of the nightmare variety.

Before that night, there had always been an attraction between Gracelyn and him. Always the heat.

Which they’d resisted because they were partners.

But they hadn’t resisted enough after nearly being killed. They’d landed in bed, and a couple of hours later, when they’d been safely taken back to headquarters in San Antonio, Gracelyn had put in her resignation papers and had disappeared.

Ruston had not only looked for her, but he’d also continued to hunt for the person who’d run the baby farm. He’d ended up needing to hunt for the farm itself, too, since they’d moved locations. Of course they had. If the powers that be had figured out Gracelyn and he were cops, they would have known the place was no longer safe for their operation.

“I haven’t been able to find the baby farm,” he admitted. “You’re worried about them coming after you?”

“And you’re not?” she countered.

“I look over my shoulder a lot,” he muttered, doing that now. He didn’t like being out in the open like this. Even with all her security, that didn’t mean someone couldn’t gun them down.

“I have a new undercover identity,” Ruston explained. “One that has no connections to the assignment we had together. But I’ve closely monitored the old identities we used, and there aren’t any red flags.” In other words, no one was searching for them under those names.

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