Rita Herron - Saving His Son

“When was that night?”

“Two months before…before that night with you. Besides, Jim always took extra precautions. He was adamant about that…. He…didn’t want children.”

Silence descended upon them with a chilling bleakness. Gavin dropped his gaze to the floor, then leaned back, half sitting, half propping himself on the front of his desk. His dark blue shirt stretched tight across his massive shoulders. “Why…Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to. I called and left messages but you never returned my calls.” Anger, swift and hard, pressed against Lindsey’s vocal chords. “I didn’t expect anything from you, Gavin, not money, not support, certainly not marriage. I know we were both upset about Jim finding the safe house and we let things get out of control. Still, I thought you had a right to know. But you avoided me and when I came to the courthouse…”

“Jesus.” He reached for her, his expression pained, but she shrank away. “I had no idea that’s why you’d come.”

Lindsey stood and backed away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, her voice brittle, “No, don’t…don’t touch me, Gavin. Don’t make excuses.” She let the anger and pain from all those lonely months drive her. “The day I finally cornered you at the courthouse, you wouldn’t even talk to me. I’d even written you a letter, but you said you didn’t want to see me again, that you didn’t want marriage or babies. Ever. So I threw the note in the trash outside the courtroom that day.”

His gaze jerked back to hers, pinning her with the force of his emotions. Hurt, anger, remorse. He started to speak, but Lindsey cut him off.

“I didn’t come here to renew our relationship. I know the one night we shared meant nothing to you, and I didn’t intend to trap you into marriage or make you accept responsibility for a baby you didn’t want.”

A vein pulsed in his forehead, but he didn’t argue.

“I’m not asking anything from you now except to find out if my son is alive.”

“Our son,” he said in a deadly calm voice.

“Yes, our son.” She raised her chin a notch, forcing herself not to think about the pain he might be feeling. “All I want is for you to help me find my son and bring him home. Then we’ll be out of your life. Forever—just like you requested the day I tried to tell you I was pregnant.”

His shoulders went rigid and for a brief minute, fear knotted her stomach. She’d seen Gavin wrestle her ex-husband the night he’d attacked her. But Gavin had never been anything but gentle toward her. He rolled his shoulder as if it hurt, the overly long strands of his hair brushing his collar. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, too. She wondered what kind of case he’d been working on, then felt like kicking herself for caring.

As if he sensed her fear, he suddenly dropped his gaze and walked around to his desk, sat down in his chair and dropped his head forward into his hands. Lindsey caught herself swaying and sank back in the chair. The sound of the clock ticking droned in the background, amplifying the tension between them.

He fiddled with a pen and some paper, avoiding her gaze, then finally replied in a low, controlled tone, “All right. Start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened after you left Raleigh.” When his chin lifted, Lindsey saw the pain in his eyes but she also recognized the calm, take-charge cop who’d protected her after her husband’s attack. The man who’d won her heart with his brooding macho manner. The man who’d broken it later. Had she made a mistake by coming to him for help?

GAVIN’S HEAD throbbed from trying to contain the rage building inside him. But he’d seen the flicker of fear in Lindsey’s eyes and shame had filled him. Her first husband had been a violent man. He had to channel his anger into something productive. Even if he died a slow painful death on the inside.

He had a baby. A son.

A little boy who’d died or been kidnapped before Gavin had even known he existed. He’d left Lindsey alone to deal with the pregnancy, the birth of his child, the baby’s death. He’d sent her away to protect her, yet he’d left her vulnerable and unprotected.

“Tell me everything.”

Lindsey twisted her hands in her lap. “My baby died a few hours after he was born. At least the doctor said he did.”

“What do you mean, the doctor said the baby died? Why don’t you believe him? Did you see the baby? Did he look healthy?”

“Yes, I held him, but they whisked him away because there were complications.”

“With the baby?”

“With me, with both of us,” she whispered, staring at her hands. “I went into premature labor. I developed eclampsia and the fetus was in distress so they had to perform an emergency C-section.” Her hands stilled, straightened, curled to dig into her palms as she struggled with the memories. Seconds later, she continued in a shaky voice, “I had a boy. But I was drowsy from the anesthesia and couldn’t stay awake. The next thing I remember, I woke up and the nurse told me he…he didn’t make it.” She paused again, then met his gaze, her big brown eyes pleading with him to believe her. “I was so hurt, so stunned I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Then I went into shock.”

His throat tightened.

“The doctor gave me a sedative, and I guess it knocked me out, but later that night, I woke up and saw someone in my room. A man…he tried to kill me.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Someone tried to smother me with a pillow. I thought it was the doctor at first—”

“You think the doctor tried to kill you?”

“Yes…no, I don’t know.” Lindsey sighed and shifted in her seat, then tucked an errant strand of hair behind her delicate ear before continuing. “All I remember is that he was wearing surgical scrubs.”

“Did you recognize him? A voice maybe? His eyes?”

“I didn’t see his face, only shadows. It was dark and I was groggy from the pain medicine.” Her face lifted, her eyes big and wide. “But the staff claimed no one had been in my room. They insisted I was hallucinating.”

Which was possible. He’d seen firsthand the bizarre effects drugs had on people. But Lindsey was normally stable, not an irrational female who invented things.

She fumbled with her purse again, her hands trembling as she removed a paper and handed it to him. “A week after I was released from the hospital I started receiving strange phone calls telling me my baby is still alive. This came in the mail today.”

He reached for the file, surprised to find an autopsy report. “You hadn’t seen the report before?”

“No, I asked about the autopsy, but the doctor never showed me the report. He claimed my baby died of heart failure. But the blood type doesn’t match mine or yours.”

A knot of anxiety tightened Gavin’s stomach as he studied her expression. Her story seemed bizarre—could it be true?

“I think someone switched my baby with the infant that didn’t make it. And they tried to cover up the switch.”

“Sounds pretty sinister. Why would someone switch babies?”

A defeated expression darkened her already dull eyes. “Maybe someone kidnapped my baby or adopted him out. Or maybe someone wanted to hurt me or get back at me…” Her voice broke, a wave of tears gushing out.

He ran a hand over his beard stubble, fighting the urge to fold her in his arms. When another tear slipped down her cheek, he lost the battle and actually reached forward. She stiffened immediately and he dropped his hand, trying to decide if she hadn’t accepted the truth about the infant’s death or if the odd events could have happened the way she described. If their child could be alive…