Page 5 of Protecting the Newborn

“I read about what happened to your father,” she said to jump-start the conversation. Jump-start and then finish it as soon as she got any and all info from him.

He nodded, and she saw the pain flood his cool gray eyes. Pain because his father, Cliff, had been murdered seven months earlier. Gunned down by an unknown assailant. Since his dad had also been the sheriff of Saddle Ridge, Texas, the speculation around his murder centered on his investigations.

And his wife.

Sandra McCullough had left Saddle Ridge just hours before her husband’s murder, and she hadn’t returned. Of course, Ruston and his siblings, who were all lawmen, wanted to find her. To question her, too. But there was also the fear that she couldn’t be found because she was dead. Or because she’d had some part in her husband’s death and was now on the run.

“Among other things, your father was investigating the kidnapping of two pregnant women,” Gracelyn continued. “According to what I’ve read, he thought that maybe the kidnappings were possibly connected to the baby farm where we were nearly killed.” She stopped and waited for him to confirm or deny that.

Ruston was clearly still working through the horrible memories of losing his father and his missing mother, but he finally nodded. “He was investigating that. What no one has been able to do is link his murder to that case.”

“Do you believe there’s a link?” she came out and asked.

He didn’t get a chance to answer though because his phone vibrated in his pocket. Ruston frowned when he looked at the caller. “It’s Marty.”

She didn’t have to encourage Ruston to take the call. He wanted answers just as much as she did, and this Marty just might be able to give them some. It sickened her though to have to deal with the devil, but Gracelyn was willing to do whatever it took to keep the baby safe.

“Yeah,” Ruston said when he answered, and he put the call on speaker. A sign that he had likely been up-front as to why he was here and had nothing to hide.

Unlike her.

Gracelyn wanted those answers. Desperately wanted them. But she also had to get Ruston out of there.

“Steve,” the caller said, obviously calling Ruston by his cover name, “I need you to move things up. Get out to the woman’s place right now and take her and the kid.”

That tightened every muscle in her body. Judging from the way Ruston pulled back his shoulders, he was having a similar reaction.

“Why?” Ruston asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I just need her sooner than expected. I’ve had to work around some transportation issues.”

Marty had said that so calmly, all business. There was no hint that he even thought of her and Abigail as anything more than objects.

“Transportation issues,” Ruston repeated. “Am I still supposed to take her and the baby to the warehouse in San Antonio?”

“You are, but the people picking her up want her there earlier than planned. Make it happen,” Marty insisted.

People.So, maybe Marty was just the middleman on this. Still, middlemen often knew who’d hired them.

“You didn’t say, but why do you want this particular woman?” Ruston pressed.

“That’s none of your business,” Marty snapped, punctuating that with some profanity. “I didn’t pay you to ask questions. If you can’t take the woman and the kid, then I’ll send someone else to do the job, and you’ll pay me back every penny of the advance I gave you.”

Gracelyn figured that wouldn’t be all, that Marty would try to silence Ruston so he wouldn’t blow the whistle on him.

“I said I’ll get her and the baby and I will.” Ruston’s voice was a snap, too. “It just makes me uneasy when plans change. I don’t want to grab them, show up at the warehouse and then have nobody there waiting to take them off my hands.”

“Somebody will be waiting there for you,” Marty growled. “Now, get them and finish this.” With that barked order, Marty ended the call.

Ruston stared at the phone a few seconds and shook his head. “I’d planned on dropping you and your baby at a safe house and then driving out to the warehouse with decoys.”

Gracelyn had been so shocked at Ruston’s arrival that she hadn’t had a chance to ask him how he’d planned for all of this to play out. “Decoys?” she questioned.

He nodded. “Charla Burke,” he said, referring to an SAPD detective they’d both worked with. “And a dummy baby. Obviously, Charla and I would both be armed, and we’d planned on arresting whoever was waiting in that warehouse. Other cops would be moving to take Marty at the same time.” He paused a heartbeat. “I need to let Franklin know about this.”

Lieutenant Tony Franklin, the senior officer in charge of undercover assignments in the SAPD Special Victims Unit. Gracelyn didn’t have any reason to distrust Franklin or Charla, but she didn’t care for them knowing her current location. Then again, Marty obviously knew, too, which meant heaven knew how many others did as well.

Yes, it was definitely well past time for her to leave.

---