Baby In My Arms Read online

  BEN HAD LAID OUT her nightclothes, a flannel shirt and a pair of white athletic socks. “Hmm. Not too alluring,” she said aloud. She couldn’t help wondering what he chose for the other women who ended up in his mountain hideaway for the night. Something filmy, probably, from his supply of negligees, the very ones he’d hidden away when he disappeared upstairs earlier.

  No, that didn’t make sense, she thought, shaking her head. He didn’t need a supply of sexy nightwear; the women who came up here with him probably brought along their own—or slept in nothing at all!

  “But not me,” she said, surveying herself in the mirror. The shirt fit her like a small tent, but it was warm, and so were the socks. She wasn’t here to be sexy; she was here to be protected. She checked Amanda one more time before going down the stairs to join Ben.

  He was at his computer, his back to her. She moved silently across the room in her sock feet. He seemed intent on his work, and she didn’t want to disturb his concentration.

  When she got closer, Kate peered over his shoulder. And what she saw froze her in her tracks. Her life was there on the screen.

  “You’re spying on me,” she cried.

  Ben turned around. “Talk about spying…who’s tiptoeing up behind me?”

  “That’s because I didn’t want to bother you. I was being considerate while you—you—”

  He waited, an amused look on his face.

  “This isn’t funny, Ben. Look up there on the screen, it’s—”

  “The life and times of Katherine Haworth McNair. Take a look for yourself.” He moved aside. “Your personnel record from ESS. Education, previous jobs, even stats—height, weight—112?” One dark eyebrow shot up.

  “I’ve gained a little since then,” she snapped.

  “I don’t see any measurements here, though. But I’d guess 34-23-34—”

  Kate reddened in anger. “I thought you’d hackerproofed the ESS files.”

  “Not for myself. I left a back door open to the headquarters.”

  She looked at the screen again. “That’s not in my ESS file! How in the world did you get my credit card records?”

  “One of the tricks of the trade. I’ve done some work for credit rating firms. You’re very responsible,” he complimented. “Everything paid and up-todate. Even your Red Riding Hood coat.”

  Again, she wasn’t amused. “This is an invasion of privacy,” she said angrily. “It’s bad enough for the credit company to know everything about me, but for a stranger to go in and find out—”

  “Stranger? That wounds me, Kate. After all, we’ve been shot at together, and you’re sleeping in my bed, in my shirt—”

  “That’s not my choice,” she cried. Then, hands on hips, she confronted him. “I want to know why you’re doing this, why you’re prying into my life like some twenty-first-century Peeping Tom. I’m the victim, not the criminal! What’s going on here?”

  She was angry, really angry, and he found the display of emotion tantalizing. After her bath, she’d let down her hair—both literally and figuratively—and it waved about her face in the most appealing way. She looked softer and more vulnerable in his oversize shirt—in spite of her tough stance. Yet there was also an incandescence about her. Maybe it was the glow of her hair or the backlight of the flames—or the look in her eyes because that was definitely fiery.

  He got up and poked at the logs, his movements slow and deliberate, taking his time in answering. He tried to remember if he’d ever had a woman spend the night in his house. Just spend the night, nothing more. He couldn’t imagine that had ever happened. So this would be a first.

  She folded her arms, silently, and he couldn’t help thinking how tempting she looked, out of her office, out of that buttoned-up brown suit. He’d promised Kate and the baby a safe place, and he wouldn’t go back on that promise. No moves, he cautioned himself.

  But as he straightened up, returned the fireplace screen to its place and looked back at her, he couldn’t help wondering what she was really like. He doubted if he’d ever know.

  “Ben—” She was finally demanding a response.

  “All right. I admit that I could have asked you questions about yourself, but it seemed easier to use the computer while you were putting Mandy to sleep. She is asleep, isn’t she?”

  “In the middle of your bed, with pillows banked all around her. But don’t try to distract me with questions about the baby. What’s going on?”

  Ben chuckled. “Cut to the chase? Okay. But first, how about a brandy to warm you up—or maybe, in your case, to cool you down.”

  Kate agreed, settling on his sofa and tucking her legs beneath her. Her face was still wary, and the anger hadn’t left her green eyes. Ben handed her a brandy, and she took a long swallow.

  “All right. I’m cool. Now explain, please.”

  “It’s simple. I wanted to know more about you.”

  She looked at him over the rim of her brandy snifter. “How come I’m not flattered by the sound of that?”

  “I don’t mean to flatter you. I mean to find out about you so I can understand what’s happening.”

  “You could have asked,” she said.

  “You might not have told me everything.”

  “Wait a minute. Why should I tell you everything? I hardly know you.”

  “Exactly. We’ve known each other for only a few hours. And in that time you’ve been shot at and your tires have been slashed. A week earlier, someone pushed you in front of a car—”

  “Accident,” she cut in. And then she added more thoughtfully, “Maybe.”

  Ben sat in a low chair across from her. “I’m thinking the same thing you are. Too many accidents. Too many coincidences, no matter what our overburdened police force may say.”

  Kate took another sip of brandy and then put the glass down. “I haven’t tried to put it all together, connect everything. I didn’t want to because the scenario seems so…sinister.”

  “It could be,” he told her.

  “I know,” she admitted. “But I don’t know why. All I can do is repeat what I told the police. I don’t have any enemies—”

  “That you know of.” He leaned toward her, a serious expression on his face. “Don’t you understand, Kate? That’s why I was delving into your past—to find out if there was something you’d missed—or forgotten about or thought wasn’t important.”

  “Or lied about?” She looked at him with a level gaze.

  “We all like to present ourselves in the best way possible, Kate.”

  “There’s nothing,” she said flatly.

  “There must be,” he insisted. “No one goes through life without making waves of some kind.”

  “I’m afraid I did,” she said a little apologetically. “My background is unremarkable. I’m an only child. My parents are in Kenya—”

  At his questioning look, she explained. “My father is a career diplomat.” She watched for his reaction to that. “Thirty years in the foreign service. No government intrigue, Ben.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to. When the foreign service is mentioned, people always think about mysterious goings-on, but believe me, my parents are very dedicated and loyal. Even a little boring.”

  “When did you last see them?” he asked.

  “Two years ago when they were on home leave. I didn’t visit them in Kenya.”

  Ben sighed. “That brings us back to you.” He downed his brandy. “Boyfriends—present or ex?”

  “None who wish me harm. I have no idea where most of the guys I dated are now, but I was only serious with one man in my life. We broke up before I moved to Phoenix. He’s since married and has a baby. So I seriously doubt if he’d want to kill me.” She let out a sigh. “Kill me. God, that sounds so sinister.”

  “But we have to consider it, Kate.”

  “I suppose so.” She felt like asking for another brandy but decided against it. A clear head was what she needed as they reviewed h
er life.

  He pressed on. “Former jobs?”

  “I beat out a couple of people at ESS for my promotion to Phoenix. A couple more for my move here. But getting rid of me wouldn’t have meant that any of them would get the job. They all had other career possibilities within—and without—the company. Everyone I know is too damn career-minded to take the time to wipe me out.” She gave a small shaky laugh. “I sound like a character in a bad detective novel, don’t I?”

  He smiled. From what he’d seen of her, he had no trouble believing the career-minded bit. Above all, she had success uppermost in her mind.

  “Then let’s look at Denver,” Ben said, returning to his keyboard. “We’ll start with the most recent clients.” He tapped a series of keys, and waited a few seconds. Then he printed out a copy of the list on the screen and handed it to Kate. “Anything suspicious going on with any of these companies?”

  She took the list from him. “So you left a back door into my ESS office, too,” she commented sarcastically as she glanced at the client names.

  “I’ll close it up when we figure out what’s going on.”

  “If anything is going on.”

  “Kate, think carefully. Do any of them have it in for you?”

  She studied the list of the most recent ESS clients. “I’ve placed executives with the first three. National Trust of Denver, Arrington Oil and Benjamin Investment. They’re cream-of-the-crop companies. They don’t shoot at a person for being a successful headhunter.”

  “Headhunter?” He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his neck. The gestures tightened the muscle across his chest and made his shoulders appear even broader. The firelight flickered a golden glaze across his forehead and cheek, and for a moment she almost lost her cool. Quickly, she caught herself.

  “Headhunter is a slang term for companies like ESS that find people to fill top-management jobs.”

  “So you’re a headhunter?” He chuckled, turning back to the computer. “And they’re all satisfied with your placements?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Did anyone lose out on a job? Some applicant you sent out who got turned down by one of those companies?”

  “Sure, but wouldn’t they take it out on the company who didn’t hire them instead of on me? After all, I’m the good guy.”

  “No nutcases?”

  “No obvious ones. Just men and women who want to work. They’re usually registered at other placement agencies, too. Honestly, I haven’t ruined anyone’s life recently.”

  “Okay, scratch your applicants and the companies you’ve placed with. Let’s look carefully at the other companies on the list, the ones you’re still ‘headhunting’ for.” He tried to hide his smile. “Start with appointments you made a week before the first accident when you were pushed in front of the car.”

  “I can’t remember anything unusual at all. I called for appointments. I made visits. The dates are here on the lists.” She consulted her hard copy while he watched the screen. “I did have a couple of appointments,” she said, remembering, “that were kind of odd.”

  “Odd?” He looked back at her.

  “They were both at night. One put me off when I got there and the other one didn’t show.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” said. “Tell me about them.”

  Relieved that he was back at the screen and she didn’t have to look at his fabulous abs, she told him, “One was the woman I mentioned to you, Coral Lampiere. She was a teacher at the private school I attended. We kept in touch and when I moved here we had lunch. She wanted ESS to help replace some staff at Sky-High Spa….”

  “Nothing unusual about that.”

  “Nope,” she agreed. “Then we made an appointment for nine-thirty at night.”

  “Now that’s unusual.”

  Kate shook her head. “You’ve admitted not knowing much about workout clubs, and you don’t,” she added with a laugh. “These places open early and don’t close until nine o’clock. That’s the logical time for Coral to set her appointments. During the day, there’s just too much going on.”

  She was thoughtful for a long moment, remembering. “What was unusual was that Coral never showed,” she told him. “The whole building was deserted except for the janitor, who was no help at all. I waited for a while and then finally left. When I called the next day to follow up, I was told Coral had gone on vacation.”

  “Annoying,” Ben commented, “but hardly sinister. You saw nothing?”

  “Only what I told you. No drug deals, no shady characters lurking in the shadows at Sky-High Spa.” Kate was becoming irritated. “This is getting us nowhere.”

  Ben held up a conciliatory hand. “Tell me about your other evening appointment.”

  Kate checked her list. Robert Brownley of United Charities. “It wasn’t really an appointment. I was supposed to drop off a contract, but he wasn’t in the office. Because I wanted to get started on the search for his executive assistant the next morning, I took the contract by his house. It was dinnertime, and I think he and his wife were having cocktails. He was in a hurry, and so was I. Nothing sinister.”

  “Did he seem irritated?”

  “Maybe a little gruff, but it was after office hours, so I figured he just wanted to get back to his private life. Can’t blame him.”

  Ben shrugged. “Your clients don’t seem to be minding their stores very well, but other than that, I don’t see anything sinister either. I’ll run computer checks on both of them. Didn’t you call this Coral woman something else?”

  “When she taught my dance class in private school, she was Carol Lampson. She changed her name when she opened the spa.” Kate shrugged off his interested look. “Lots of people know that, so I don’t think she shot at me to keep her name change a secret.”

  Ben was thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe we’re looking at this from the wrong angle.” He changed programs on his computer. “When did you come to Denver?”

  “Six weeks ago—the first part of November.”

  “When did you get custody of Mandy?”

  “Temporary guardianship,” she corrected. “Last week. I had just come back to work from the the accident—”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  “Or whatever you want to call it,” she corrected, “and that afternoon a lawyer called to tell me Amanda was on the way.”

  “That was the first you heard?”

  “Oh, no. Her parents died in the airplane crash before Thanksgiving, but the baby stayed with a family friend until the will was read and the lawyers made arrangements to send her here. Poor Amanda,” she said. “Losing her parents and not knowing why, and then being shuttled from place to place. It’s a miracle she’s coped as well as she has.”

  Ben was concentrating on the computer, and Kate wondered if he’d been listening to her. “Why did you want to know all those details?” she asked.

  “Look.” He moved aside so she could see the screen where he had created a triangular design. He placed the cursor on one corner and typed “December 15.” “Today’s date. You were shot at, and someone slashed your tires. Now, let’s go back, what, ten days, to December 5?”

  She nodded.

  He typed that date at another corner. “You were bit by the car—either on purpose or accidentally—on about that date. Then Mandy arrived. How many days later?”

  “Three,” she answered.

  He typed “December 8” at the apex of the triangle. And in the middle he typed “Amanda.” “Do you see what’s happened?”

  “You think all this has to do with Amanda?” she asked unbelievingly.

  “Think about it.” He got up slowly and stretched. “You say nothing unusual happened at work. Your clients are above reproach. You’ve got no skeletons in your closet. But something has changed in your life recently, and that’s Mandy.” He pointed to the diagram on the computer screen. “In the center is Mandy.”

  She sat down, confused. “Why would someone want me out of th
e way because of the baby?”

  “Aha, Dr. Watson, that’s the question,” he answered. “If we find the answer, we’ll discover who the hell is after you.”

  “I can’t believe—” she began tentatively.

  “It’s logical, Kate.” He prodded. “Who, besides you, knew about Mandy?”

  “Plenty of people,” she answered. “All of Libby’s friends back east, the couple who kept the baby after the plane crash, some cousins in Florida.” She closed her eyes, trying to think.

  “What about here in Denver?” he asked.

  “No one,” she said, “except the lawyer, Daniel Hedrick.”

  “A good place to start,” Ben said, refocusing his attention on the computer. “I’ll log into a law library through the Internet and get American Bar Association records. I can find out what kind of cases he handles and then look into his personal life, including his credit records.”

  “Just like you did with me…”

  “Exactly,” he replied, intent on the screen. “More brandy?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “No, I’m fine.” She felt warm and relaxed, in spite of all the confusion, the puzzles that Ben had created on screen—and in her head. Her edgy nerves and racing mind were gradually slowing, thanks to the combination of her bath, the fire and the brandy.

  She glanced around the room, seeing again the wall hangings that had intrigued her and suddenly changing the subject. “Those hangings—are they Cheyenne?”

  “A few of them,” he replied. “But there’re also Arapaho and Nez Percé as well as some eastern tribes—Cherokee, Creek and Seminole. Collecting them is my hobby.” He turned and gave her a mocking look. “I like to keep in touch with my Native American roots.”

  Without waiting for her response to that, he was back at work, his fingers skimming the keyboard. Kate watched in fascination. What an interesting dichotomy he was. His technology was out of the twentyfirst century, but he hadn’t forsaken his past. Ben’s heritage seemed a natural part of him, and yet he neither overdramatized nor downplayed it.

  Now he was hunting down whoever had shot at them, not in an exotic Native American setting but on the computer.