concerned about it. His scowl deepened. “You usually have to cut those things off. They don’t just fall off by themselves.”
Was it her imagination, or was there a hint of suspicion in the man’s words and in the way he glanced down at her?
“I’ll need your name,” he said, lifting the oxygen mask from her mouth. “And your room number. Later there may be other questions.”
* * *
By the time Nina was finally transported to the emergency room at St. Mary’s, she’d been taken off the oxygen. Her breathing was even, but still painful. She was exhausted, her throat and chest ached and the horrors of the past few hours still haunted her. But all she wanted was to see her baby.
When a doctor finally came into the cubicle to examine her, Nina pleaded with him to let her see her son. “Please. He’s all I’ve got.”
Dropping his air of professionalism for a moment, the doctor nodded sympathetically. He turned to the nurse behind him. “Go see what you can find out about the Fairchild baby. Let me know as soon as you hear something.”
When the nurse exited the room, Nina said, “Thank you. I have to know he’s all right. I’ve been so worried—”
“No need to thank me.” His tone was brisk. “I have kids of my own. Now, try to get some rest. We’ll send you upstairs as soon as a bed becomes available. Then you’ll be able to see your son for yourself.”
Just as he was about to leave, the nurse hurried back into the cubicle. She murmured something in the doctor’s ear, and with a quick glance at Nina, the two dashed out.
Nina tried to tell herself whatever was wrong had nothing to do with Dustin. The emergency room was chaotic. The doctor was probably needed elsewhere, some life-or-death crisis that would explain the tense look on his face.
But when he came back into the cubicle a few moments later, a new terror seized her. Something was definitely wrong.
“What’s the matter with my baby?” She hardly recognized her own voice. It sounded far too calm, far too in control to belong to someone who was paralyzed with such fear. “What’s wrong with Dustin? I want to see him.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible at the moment.”
“Oh, my God.” Nina’s chest tightened. Dizziness swept over her, and for a moment, she wanted to succumb to the darkness. Wanted to hide from what she was about to learn. “My baby…is he…?”
The doctor took her hand. “I’m sure your baby is fine. No cause for alarm, but…it seems there’s been some sort of mix-up. Your baby isn’t here.”
Nina stared at him in confusion, uncertain whether to feel relief or despair. What did he mean, Dustin wasn’t here? If he wasn’t here, where was he? “I don’t understand. I was told my son was brought to this hospital. Where is he? Why can’t I see him? What’s happened to him?”
“We’re making some calls right now. Some of the patients from Galveston were taken to other area hospitals. We’ll find your baby, Mrs. Fairchild. There’s no reason to worry.”
No reason to worry? Her baby was missing, and this man was advising her not to worry?
After he’d left the cubicle again, Nina lay there and tried to think what to do. What could she do? She wasn’t in any condition to get up and start a search herself, and yet the thought of entrusting her baby’s safety to complete strangers was almost overwhelming. Did they have any idea what Dustin meant to her? How much she loved him? How much she needed him?
He had to be all right, Nina told herself, but as much as she wanted to believe in the power of positive thinking, she knew firsthand how wrong things could go. Hadn’t she prayed for Garrett’s safety on the roadside that night? Hadn’t she told herself he would be all right if she left him long enough to go for help?
Inadvertently an image of Trent Fairchild materialized in her mind. She could see his handsome face contorted with rage, the cold, black hatred in his eyes as he’d glared down at her at the funeral. It’s all your fault, Nina. Garrett is dead because of you, and somehow, some way, you’re going to pay. I’ll see to that.
Dear God, was this her punishment? Was Dustin being taken from her because of what she’d done to Garrett?
When the door to the cubicle opened again, Nina jumped. The doctor walked slowly to her bedside, his expression grim. Nina’s heart began to pound. She tried to look away from him, but couldn’t. As adept as she was at protecting her emotions, concealing her fears, there was no hiding from this. No running away from the truth.
“I’m going to be straight with you, Mrs. Fairchild.” The gentleness of his tone almost did her in. She clutched the bed sheets in her fists as her throat knotted with fear.
“So far, we haven’t been able to locate your son. I still believe there’s been some sort of mix-up with Galveston, and in a few hours we’ll get it all sorted out. You’ll be holding your son in your arms in no time. But meanwhile…” His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped from hers. “Just to be on the safe side, we’re calling in the police….”
Chapter One
Six months later
“Sergeant Farrell, please.” Nina fastened her long hair into a ponytail as she waited on hold. She knew from experience it could take several minutes for Boyd Farrell to answer his phone, so she used the time to scan the web page she’d designed for a local bookstore.
Nina loved her job. Designing web pages for small businesses who wanted to join the information superhighway was uniquely exciting. But working at home also had its drawbacks. Always somewhat of a loner, Nina would sometimes go for days without seeing another soul, and she knew that wasn’t particularly healthy. Perhaps that was why she’d been so susceptible to Karen Smith’s overtures of friendship. Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t recognized the woman’s deception.
“Sergeant Farrell,” a masculine voice said in her ear.
“It’s Nina.”
She could imagine him running a hand through his thinning, light brown hair, perhaps staring at the framed picture of his wife and daughter on his desk while he figured out a tactful way to get rid of her.
“How are you, Nina?”
“Hanging in there.” She forced an optimism into her tone. “What’s the latest?”
She heard him sigh and tried to steel herself against the inevitable disappointment. “There’s nothing new on the case. You know I would have called you if there were.”
Of course she knew that, but she still couldn’t help hoping. Every time she called him, she couldn’t help hoping.
“No leads on Karen Smith?”
Another pause. The questions were always the same. So were the answers. “Afraid not.”
“She couldn’t have just vanished from the face of the earth,” Nina insisted. “She’s out there somewhere with my baby.”
“We don’t know for sure who took your baby. We have to keep an open mind, Nina. Dustin’s kidnapping could have been random. Any one of the infants in that nursery could have been taken during the fire.”
“But they weren’t,” she countered. “Only Dustin. If he wasn’t singled out, why was my ID bracelet missing? Was that just some strange coincidence?”
“I don’t know,” Farrell admitted.
She pressed her point. “You know as well as I do the evidence points to Karen Smith—the way she met me in the park that day, how she kept coming back until we became friends and she found out everything about me. If she didn’t take Dustin, why did she just disappear like that? Why haven’t