into the FBI agent’s cheeks. His eyes blazing fire, Sean snarled back.
“Listen to me, you two-bit piece of slime. You hurt that baby and there won’t a patch of dirt anywhere on this earth big enough for you to dig a hole and crawl into.”
Haley flew across the living room. “Let me talk to him.”
“I’m warning you, Del Brio—”
“Let me talk to him!”
The agent relinquished the instrument reluctantly, signaling for Haley to string out the conversation as long as she could. She understood. The communications technicians hooked into the line would need a few moments to trace the call. She understood, too, that the events of the past year were rapidly spiraling to a terrifying conclusion.
“Frank! Frank, are you there?”
“Hello, Daisy.”
The deep, rich baritone made her skin crawl.
“You fooled me with that brassy hair and nose job, babe, but I have to admit I like the new look.”
Haley didn’t bother to comment on the fact that he’d penetrated the cover she’d been using for the past year. The long months she’d spent as Daisy Parker didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was her baby. Only her baby.
“Don’t hurt her, Frank. Please, don’t hurt her.”
She hated to beg, hated hearing the abject pleading in her voice, almost as much as she hated Del Brio for the pain he’d caused her and her family.
“What do you want?” she whispered. “What do I have to do to get Lena back?”
“Two million just might do the trick. In unmarked, nonsequential bills. Nothing bigger than a hundred. I’ll let you know where and when to deliver it.”
His voice dropped to a low caress. Soft and husky, it scraped across Haley’s raw nerves like a rusty nail.
“I’d better not see one cop or one fed, particularly your pal Collins or that bastard Justin Wainwright.”
Haley’s heart squeezed with pain. They’d come so close, so very close. Mission Creek’s sheriff and the FBI had almost—almost—captured Del Brio three nights ago. He’d made his escape, gunning down her father in the process. Taking her baby with him.
“If I even smell their stink when you deliver the ransom,” Frank snarled, “you’ll never see your brat again. You understand me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Talk to you soon, babe.”
“Wait!” Her frantic shout bounced off the walls. “Don’t hang up! Tell me how she’s—”
The hum of the disconnected line thundered in Haley’s ear. She wanted to scream, to shriek and batter the receiver against the phone. But she’d spent the past year living a dangerous lie. A year undercover, risking her life every day to ferret out the details of the mob that had operated out of Mission Creek. If nothing else, those torturous months had taught her to subdue every natural impulse. To smile when she shook inside with fear. To hide her anguish as she watched another couple love and cherish the baby she’d been forced to give up temporarily for the child’s own safety.
All those months had left their mark on Haley. Instead of shrieking or hurling the cordless phone at the wall, she merely handed it to Sean and listened in stony silence while he barked at the communications techs working the trace.
“Did you pinpoint the location?”
She knew. Even before she saw his mouth twist into a disgusted grimace, she knew. Frank was too smart to trip himself up with a simple phone call.
“Okay. Thanks.”
His jaw tight, Sean punched the off button. Frustration gave a sharp edge to his broad New York accent when he confirmed what she already suspected.
“Del Brio used some kind of electronic scrambler. We couldn’t confirm his location.”
She nodded. That was all she could manage. From the day Lena was kidnapped, Haley had carried both fear and dread around inside her like a stone. It crushed in on her now, so massive and heavy she could hardly breathe.
“He’ll kill her.”
“Listen to me, Daisy—”
The special agent caught himself. He’d insisted they use her alias of Daisy Parker in every communication and every conversation for the past year. Although that cover was now blown, Sean hadn’t quite made the transition back to her real name.
“Listen to me, Haley. Del Brio can’t kill Lena. Not until he gets what he wants. He knows we’ll demand proof she’s still alive before we play his game.”
The iron control she’d exercised for more than a year slipped and came close to shattering at that moment. “It’s not a game!” she snapped furiously. “This is my child’s life we’re talking about!”
“Dammit, I know that.”
Months of unrelenting tension sizzled and spit between them. With a little push Haley could almost have hated Sean Collins, too.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, shagging a hand through his thick, reddish hair. “You know I’ll do whatever it takes to get Lena back. I want Del Brio as much as you do.”
“No,” she countered swiftly, her throat raw. “You couldn’t. It wasn’t your mother Frank murdered, Sean. Your father he tried to destroy. Your trusted friend and advisor he blew away.”
She closed her eyes, aching for her mother. Grieving for the white-haired Texas judge who’d helped her arrange her escape and acted as her life-line all those years she stayed in hiding. Hurting, too, for the father who now lay in ICU, battling for every breath.
Frank Del Brio had wreaked such havoc on her life. Haley knew he wouldn’t hesitate to take the next fatal step. She wrapped her arms around her middle and squeezed tight, wishing with every ounce of her being she could hold in her terror for her child and keep it from spilling into reality.
Eyes closed, she pictured Lena the last time she’d seen her. The one-year-old was such a happy, bubbly child. All smiles and gurgles and bright blue eyes. With her mother’s pointed chin and her father’s black curly hair.
Her father. Oh, God! Her father.
Luke Callaghan.
Swallowing the moan that tried to escape, Haley dug her hands into her sides. She had to tell Luke. Had to confirm what the DNA tests had already substantiated. He was Lena’s father. When she admitted that, she’d have to confess, too, that the blond waitress he knew as Daisy Parker was Lena’s mother.
She cringed at the thought of having to explain to Luke the tangled web of lies and deceit she’d woven to protect herself and Lena, but every instinct told her he was now her only hope. Frank had warned her not to bring the feds when she delivered the ransom. He hadn’t said anything about the baby’s father.
Her mind worked feverishly. Del Brio was ruthless and totally without conscience. He also exercised an extensive network of contacts. He’d known how to reach Haley here, in this supposedly secure haven. He’d probably get word within minutes if she left it and went to Lena’s father. He wouldn’t worry, though. If there was a chink in Del Brio’s armor, it was his arrogance. He wouldn’t doubt his ability to handle the combination of a terrified mother and a blind father.
But could Haley handle it? After all this time, could she face the man who’d fathered her child? The man she’d loved as long as she could remember?
She could.
She had to!
Spinning, she bolted for the front door. Sean followed hard on her heels.
“Where are you going?”
“To