Rita Herron - Unbreakable Bond & The Missing Twin - Unbreakable Bond / The Missing Twin

“We’ve been over this,” Dr. Emery said as if talking to a child. “She did not survive.”

“How can you be so sure?” Slade asked. “Did forensics ever prove the infant was in the fire?”

Dr. Emery glared at Slade. “No, but the place, the ashes…it was impossible to identify all the bodies.”

“How about security tapes?” Slade asked.

“The explosion knocked them all out.” He sighed. “Mr. Blackburn, you’re doing Miss Nash an injustice by dredging up the past and raising her hopes. She needs to let her daughter’s death go so she can heal.”

Slade’s jaw clenched. “You tried to persuade Nina to give up her baby for adoption, didn’t you?”

The man curled his hand around a stress ball on his desk and squeezed it. “Yes. She was young, unemployed and single.”

“But she wanted to keep the baby,” Slade said.

“She was immature. And her father didn’t intend to support her or the child. I was trying to think of the baby. If she made it,” he continued, “there would be medical bills, therapy.” He shot a condescending look at Nina. “Miss Nash was not equipped to handle those expenses, much less raise a handicapped child.”

“That was my problem, not yours,” Nina said bitterly.

Dr. Emery pushed away from his desk. “I was, as always, looking out for my patients.”

Slade slapped a fist on the desk. “Well, someone didn’t look out for Peyton Nash that night, did they?”

Dr. Emery paced to the window, agitated. “You have no idea how traumatic it was. The hospital staff did everything possible to save the patients.”

Slade folded his arms. “And maybe you saw that chaos as an opportunity to take Peyton, to give her to someone else you deemed as a more appropriate parent. Or hell, maybe you sold her for the money.”

Hot fury heated the doctor’s cheeks. “How dare you imply such slander. I have an impeccable reputation. And I’ve lived and worked here in Sanctuary all my life.”

Slade stood, towering over him. “I don’t like the fact that you’ve stonewalled my client and dismissed her questions without adequately responding.”

“I have answered them, but Nina is obsessive and delusional,” Emery argued.

Nina flinched, but Slade continued, his voice cold and harsh, “I don’t think so. And I don’t intend to accept anything you say at face value or leave this case alone, not until all of our questions are answered to my satisfaction.” He gestured to Nina. “And if I find out that you withheld information or that you’ve been lying, I’ll be back, and I will hold you responsible.”

Fear flashed in the doctor’s eyes for the first time since Nina had known him. Was he afraid because Slade was right—did he know something that he wasn’t telling them?

* * *

SLADE GROUND HIS TEETH as he and Nina left Dr. Emery’s office. “Let’s see if any of the nurses you mentioned are here.”

Nina nodded, and they walked to the nurses’ station. “Excuse me,” Slade said. “Do you have a nurse named Carrie or Jane working here?”

A middle-aged dirty blonde with green eyes glanced up from the desk. “Yes, Carrie Poole, but she won’t be in until tomorrow. And Jane is on vacation and won’t be back until next week.”

“All right,” Slade said. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“What do you think?” Nina asked as they exited the building and walked to his car.

“I don’t know yet, Nina,” Slade said. “I don’t like Emery, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s lying.”

Nina’s shoulders sagged, and he pressed a hand to her waist to help her in the car.

“But I meant what I said. I will find the answers.” He offered her a sad smile. “I just hope the answers are what you want to hear. But I won’t lie to you or B.S. you either.”

“Thank you,” Nina said, her eyes sincere. “I know some people think I’m unstable, but I’m not. I just have to know the truth.”

He stared at her for a long moment, grateful to hear the strength beneath the fragile-looking exterior. He had a feeling Nina Nash was a lot tougher than anyone had given her credit for.

Moonlight flickered off her creamy skin and highlighted her golden hair, and a surge of sexual attraction shot through him.

Damn. Not good.

Determined to avoid personal involvement, he jerked his eyes away from her, started the engine and drove back to GAI headquarters.

He parked and told Nina he’d call her in the morning. A storm cloud rumbled, threatening rain, and she thanked him again and climbed from the car.

“Get some sleep,” he called just before she turned away.

But her distressed look indicated that she didn’t expect to rest, that dreams of her daughter haunted her nights.

Slade had his own share of nightmares, and as much as he’d like to comfort her, he wasn’t a hero. The men he’d lost were.

But he would investigate.

Tomorrow he’d ask Gage and Amanda to pull all the police and medical reports from the hospital. Maybe Amanda could use her expertise to determine if Peyton Nash’s body had been among those in the fire.

* * *

NINA’S PHONE WAS RINGING as she let herself into her house. Thinking it might be Slade, she hurried to answer it.

But the voice on the other end of the line startled her. William.

“Nina, what the hell are you doing hiring a private investigator?”

Nina tensed at the rage in his tone. “How do you know I hired a P.I.?”

“Dr. Emery called. He’s worried that you’re having another breakdown.”

Nina gripped the phone tighter. “Well, I’m not. And what I do is none of your business, William. You gave up that right the day you walked out on me and our baby.”

“Listen to me, Nina. I don’t need some nosy P.I. in my business, especially asking questions about something that happened years ago.”

“ Something that happened?” Nina said, her own fury mounting. “What happened was that your daughter went missing. That I was told she died, but that no one ever proved it or even bothered to look for her.”

“For God’s sake, you need psychiatric help,” William bellowed. “My mother tried to warn me, but I thought eventually you’d come to your senses.”

“Maybe you don’t want me asking questions because you have something to hide,” Nina said between clenched teeth.

William’s breath wheezed with anger. “If you make trouble for me, Nina, I’ll make sure everyone at the school where you teach knows just what a basket case you are. Do you think the people of Sanctuary will want an obsessive nutcase teaching their precious children?”

Adrenaline sizzled through Nina’s blood. “Are you threatening me, William?”

“Take it however you want, Nina, just leave me alone and tell that P.I. to do the same.”

Nina started to shout at him, but he slammed down the phone, cutting her off.

She stared at the dead phone in her hand, then dropped it into its cradle, paced to the mantel and picked up Peyton’s photo. “I won’t give up,” she whispered. “Not even if William did threaten me.”

In spite of her resolve not to do it, she walked into the bedroom, dragged on her nightshirt then slipped open the drawer where she’d stowed the tiny pink dress with the butterflies on it that she’d bought years ago. The outfit she’d planned for Peyton to wear home. She knew it was crazy to have kept it. Pathetic.

But she crawled in bed, pressed it to her chest and inhaled the sweet scent of fabric softener.

Then she closed her eyes and imagined her daughter coming home.

* * *

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD REBECCA DAVIS fumbled for her glasses, sweeping her hand across the desk in the bedroom at her foster parents’ house. Without the glasses, she was nearly blind. But at least the social worker had gotten her a computer with big print.