He looked outside, then down the hall and saw nothing.
Heard nothing.
He moved back to the room and resumed his task, one thing after another.
It came again. A noise. A small noise, like a tiny animal’s cry.
He had the front windows open to the fresh fall air. He peered out. A bird, maybe?
But then Tucker barked down below. He barked again as Gabe came across the open hallway above, then the big dog paced back and forth by the door. “Have you got to go out again, fella?”
Tucker panted by the street-side door, paced, then panted again.
The noise came again, closer now.
Tucker bounded up, laying two big front paws against the hardwood door, and he barked, twice.
“Down.”
The dog came down.
Gabe gave him a hand command to sit and be quiet. Tucker obeyed quickly but kept his canine attention locked on the door.
Gabe peeked outside from the side window, one hand on the weapon he carried in his back waistband.
Was someone casing the place? Skulking around?
Woven vines along the lattice blocked his view of the small covered porch. He kept his hand on the gun and quietly opened the door.
His heart stopped. And then he dropped his hands, leaving the weapon right where it was.
A baby.
Sound asleep. In a car seat. On his front step.
He stared for too many seconds, then dropped down as if someone had drawn a bead on him.
The baby sighed, thought to stick a hand into a tiny mouth, then thought better of it and dozed back off, utterly content.
His heart stopped.
A diaper bag lay next to the baby. And the baby’s wrappings appeared clean and fresh, although the car seat carrier looked worn.
Snugged in pink...
A girl, then? Most likely.
He reached out a tentative hand, then realized he was being foolish. She wasn’t going to explode if he touched her and she couldn’t stay outside on the stoop. He lifted the carrier and brought her inside.
She frowned, wriggled, then dozed right back off.
A baby.
He scratched his head and never thought twice about what he did next. He crossed the room, swung open his door and hollered for Corinne. She popped out of her sliding glass door with reading glasses perched on her head and waved. “What’s up? Do you need something?”
“Can you come over here? Now?”
“Of course.” She slipped into a pair of canvas shoes sitting on the deck and crossed the yards. “What’s wrong?”
He pointed.
She followed the direction of his hand. Her mouth dropped open in a perfect circle. “It’s a baby.”
“Yup.”
“Whose?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“What?” Disbelief formed a W between her eyes. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s quite possible, actually. I came down from upstairs and there she was, on the front porch stoop, sound asleep.”
“No note?”
He crossed to the bag and rummaged around. “I didn’t look. I was too surprised by the baby.”
“A little girl.” Corinne whispered the words and sounded absolutely joyful as she did. “Oh, Gabe, she is beautiful.”
“Except no one in their right mind abandons a beautiful baby.”
“A mother needing sanctuary for her child, maybe? You are a cop and you work in a sanctuary building.”
“Except this is my home. Not the troop house.” He pulled a zippered pocket of the bag open and found a thick envelope inside. It wasn’t sealed and he yanked out a sheaf of papers quickly. The first sheet was a letter, to him, and it was signed by his late cousin, Adrianna.
Gabe,
If you’re reading this, it’s because I’m gone. My friend Nita and I had this all worked out, and I was going to bring Jess to you, but I’m not sure what will happen now. These guys, the guys I’m working with, well...they don’t care. Not about themselves, not about their women, and they sure don’t care about innocent babies.
I stayed sober a long time, Gabe, but I’m not straight now and I can’t live with myself if something happens to her because I’m stupid and selfish. I tried to give her up to strangers, but I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
You’re the best person I know. My parents disowned me and they want nothing to do with Jessie. They called her a child of sin. My sister has her hands full. Her husband left when he lost his job, and that’s a mess.
I have no one else, Gabe. I have you, and you always tried to see the good in me.
That good is gone, and I’m sorry about that. So sorry. But I was sober until after Jessie was born, so she won’t have any problems from her foolish mother.
I wish I listened when I was younger, Gabe. You tried to help. So did your mom, but I couldn’t be bothered.
We’re going on a run tonight. I don’t know how it will end, but Nita promised to bring Jessie to you.
I got these forms online. They give you custody and permission to adopt Jessie, and the free lawyer at the center told me I’d done all the right things. You would be good for her. And I think she would be good for you.
Sister Martha at the mission helped me get some things together that Jessie might need, enough to tide you over for a couple of days.
Please pray for me. This isn’t how life was supposed to be, but I’ve got only myself to blame. And if you can’t find it within yourself to raise her, will you find someone who is really nice to do it? I want her surrounded by goodness, and that’s not going to happen if she stays with me or my family.
I love you.
Adrianna.
Attached to the two-page letter were official-looking legal documents signed by his cousin Adrianna and witnessed by two people. The stamp of a notary public from Schoharie County indicated that Adrianna had followed the directions of the legal website and the attorney.
“Oh, Gabe.” Sympathy deepened Corinne’s features. “She sounds like she’s in a bad way.”
“She’s gone, Corinne.” He scrubbed a hand to his face, then his neck as the baby slept. “I went to her memorial service two weeks ago, and there were only a handful of us there. Adrianna died while she and her crooked friends were robbing a Thruway exit convenience store. And my mother never said anything about a baby. I can’t believe she wouldn’t have told me during one of our phone calls.”
“Did your mother live near her?” she asked.
“My family is in Saratoga County, on the upper side of Albany. Adrianna got herself mixed up with a bunch of gang members after she dropped out of high school. A wild crowd, according to Mom. She’s done time, twice. And now this.”
The baby squirmed, stretched and blinked.
“Is there a bottle in there?”
Gabe searched the bag. “No. But there is a can of formula.”
“Try the insulated pocket on the side.”
He did and withdrew a cool bottle. “How’d you know that was there?”