The Baby Assignment

Chapter 1

Come one step closer and I’ll shoot you.

Jack Cotter paused at his boss’s office door.

I’m serious, Jack. Jessie Myers put a hand on her chest. A deep, rattling cough overtook her words, and she turned away for a moment, trying to smother it. Or maybe I’ll just shoot myself, she amended hoarsely, when she could speak again. Lord knows, I couldn’t possibly feel any worse.

For Pete’s sake, Jessie, why don’t you just go home? You sound like—

Death. I know. People have been very kindly pointing that out to me all day. Jessie pulled a tissue out of the box on her desk and blew her nose loudly. Jack, listen to me, because I’ve only got enough voice left to say this once. Jerry Lawrence just walked.

You’re not serious.

I wish I wasn’t. Another cough shook Jessie’s whole body. The one witness we had—the one person who could tie Jerry to those shooters who killed the cop out in Lafayette—just turned up in a Dumpster with a bullet in his own forehead. Without that witness, we have no case. With no case, there’s no point in going to trial. And you can bet Jerry Lawrence’s attorney made that point loud and clear to the judge at Jerry’s pretrial hearing this morning. The judge dismissed the charges, and that’s that. Jerry’s a free man again.

Jack swore softly. I thought we had that witness under wraps, he said.

Jessie looked bad enough, with her eyes streaming and her nose reddened by the vicious cold she’d come down with overnight. Her grim expression didn’t improve her appearance.

I thought so, too, she said. We had him and his family in a nice little place in Hays County, well out of the way. But for some reason the guy decided it was safe to show his face in San Antonio again. Look, Jack, what I want you to do—

Her coughing fit this time lasted longer, and Jack was starting forward sympathetically, heading for the chair across from Jessie’s own, when she held up a hand.

Stop, she croaked. "I mean it. If you catch this cold and take it to your brothers’ wedding, they’re never going to forgive you. Hell, I’ll never forgive you. You’re supposed to be having a good time in the next couple of weeks, not spreading this plague across central Texas."

It was amazing, Jack thought. Everyone seemed to think weddings were occasions for universal rejoicing and celebration. He’d already been congratulated more times than he could count, and he was only the best man, for pity’s sake.

Nobody seemed to consider the possibility that he wasn’t wild about this change in his life.

And there wasn’t a soul on earth he could say that to. His only real confidants in the world were Wiley and Sam themselves. And Wiley and Sam were far too much in love with their respective brides to understand why Jack couldn’t quite share in their prenuptial bliss.

He leaned back against the doorframe, and waited without speaking while Jessie blew her nose again. When she finally spoke, her words were raspier and harder to hear.

Remember the widow of the cop who got shot? she was asking.

I thought she was in the witness protection program by now.

Jessie’s long, serious African-American face grew even more serious. That’s what I wanted people to think. In fact, she. refused to let us relocate her—refused almost everything I offered to do for her. She wanted to find her own hiding place, and keep as much of her own identity as she could hang on to.

Jack stared. She got a death wish or something?

"She’s a—an unusual woman. She had her own reasons for what she’s done, and I respected them. But that was when it looked ninety-nine percent certain that Jerry Lawrence was going to prison until he was long past old and gray. Fortunately I made our witness promise to give me—and only me—an address where we could reach her when it was time for her to testify."

She reached into her purse and pulled out her bulky black date book. She slid a piece of paper out of the back pocket of the binder, then paused. You’re the only one I’d trust with this, Jack, she said slowly. I know you’re just about to start your vacation, but—

Come on, Jessie, spit it out. Jack pushed himself away from the doorframe. turning you down when you’re in this state would be like refusing a deathbed request. What do you want me to do?

Her answering smile was weak but relieved. Get to the woman and warn her, she said.

Why not just call her yourself?

She doesn’t have a phone of her own. She’s at... apparently it’s some kind of ranch. She didn’t want anyone calling her there. I know it’s out of your way, and I know you’re eager to get to Austin, but—

Don’t worry about it. In fact, Jack was due at a tuxedo fitting with his brothers in Austin this evening, followed by a party hosted by some of his brothers’ buddies. But it seemed possible that he would be able to fit the extra trip in, if he left Houston right away.

He didn’t have to tell Jessie that he’d willingly do any favor she asked him. Hell, she’d do the same for him. They’d worked together long enough and built up enough mutual respect that they both knew it without saying it out loud.

He copied the ranch name and address on a piece of scrap paper and handed the original back to Jessie. As he slid the copied version into his wallet, it snagged on something, and he had to pull out a pile of other scrappy little notes to make room.

Too much money, Jack?

He shook his head. Too many lists of things to do, he replied. Would you believe, Sam’s fiancée’s mother has a deeply ingrained fear of the wedding rings going missing right before the ceremony, so she wants me to go out and buy a couple of cheapie imitations just in case I lose the real things. She’s not even flying in until the middle of next week, and already she’s stepping all over things.

"Nothing would surprise me about weddings. Jessie wiped her streaming nose and waved her free hand at him again. Now get out of here, she said, before you succumb to this horrible bug."

Jack stuffed everything back into his wallet, not caring what order it was in. ‘I’m a goner, boys—save yourselves,’ he said. Right?

Something like that. Or maybe I’m the captain going down with the ship. I feel too awful to figure it out. Jessie plucked another tissue out of the box, and added, Tell Shelby Henderson from me that the offer of federal protection still stands. In fact, you can tell her I think she’s a fool if she refuses it. Jerry Lawrence is a cold-blooded reptile, and he’s never been afraid of killing.

Jack didn’t need to be told that. I’ve got it, he said. "Now will you go home and go to bed?"

Willingly. I only came in today because I wanted to find out about Jerry Lawrence’s hearing. And once I heard the news, I had an idea about driving out to see Shelby Henderson myself, but—

But it’s hard to drive when you can’t see straight. I get the picture, Jessie.

When he’d satisfied himself that his boss really was clearing her desk and getting ready to leave for home, he went back out to the open-plan office he and the other members of Jessie’s current team shared. It was still early in the afternoon, but the atmosphere of Friday—or maybe of Jack’s impending vacation—seemed to be affecting everyone.

Hey, Jack. Garry O‘Dette, the youngest member of the group, tossed a rolled-up scrap of paper at him from across the room. Now that you’re an expert on weddings, can you help me convince Annette to marry me? I keep telling her she’s passing up a great chance to become Annette O’Dette, but she won’t listen.

Can I help it if she’s got good sense? Jack neatly deflected Garry’s toss, batting the paper back across the big room with the flat of his hand. And being a best man doesn’t make me an expert on weddings, smart guy, any more than Mack’s an expert on naval policy just because he’s got that big boat.

Hey, naval policy’s gotta be a cinch compared with looking after a boat. Mack MacGuire, Jack’s longtime colleague, looked up from his computer screen. I’d have offered it to Wiley and Sam to use on their honeymoons, Jack, except the damn engine’s been acting up again. I swear that thing spends as much time in the shop as it does on the water.

That’s all right. The happy couples have their honeymoon plans all lined up, I believe.

It felt harder all the time to keep that bittersweet tone out of his voice, but maybe he was the only one hearing it. None of his colleagues seemed to notice, to his relief.

Aren’t you worried about being a best man two times in one day, Jack? Annette Caniglio was smiling at him. You know what they say—‘Three times a bridesmaid, never a bride.’

I’m not losing sleep over it. Sliding out from under the whole sore subject, he added, Listen, can someone wrap up that report on Gutierrez Industries? I’ve got to run an errand for Jessie, and then get up to Austin.

I’ll do it. I’m in that file, anyway. Mack looked back at the screen in front of him. Jessie going home?

Yeah. She was just concerned about one of her witnesses in the Jerry Lawrence case. I’ve got to run out to where the woman’s staying, and tell her Lawrence is on the loose again.

The other members of the team shook their heads. Clearly the word about the last minute foul-up in the Lawrence case had made the rounds while Jack had been at lunch.

Bad scene, Garry said.

But a great way for Jack to skip out of the office even earlier, Annette teased.

Jack didn’t answer her this time. How was he supposed to explain to his well-meaning associates and friends that an essential part of his world was going to come to an abrupt end a week from tomorrow? Or that he didn’t know what he was going to do when it was gone?

He was scowling at nothing in particular as he headed for his own desk. He was going to have to figure out some way to get a smile onto his face by the time the happy event rolled around, he thought. But at the moment, smiling was more than he could manage.

And he wasn’t going to have to smile at Jessie’s reclusive witness, thank God. All he had to do was deliver a message and hit the road for Austin. Compared to grappling with his own mixed feelings, Jessie’s request seemed blessedly simple and straightforward.

Ignoring the wedding-related banter still peppering the office air, Jack sat down at his desk and started getting ready to go.

Shelby had no contact with the guests. That had been one of her conditions; she didn’t want to find herself someday running into a visitor who would look at her and say, Didn’t you use to live down in Lafayette?

But even though her work on the ranch was confined to cleaning the cabins and helping in the kitchen and laundry, she’d spent enough time watching the new guests that she could tell at a glance which of them had potential as riders, and which didn’t.

This one definitely didn’t.

Shelby paused at the window of the laundry cabin and watched the awkward teenager bouncing across the yard on board old Leo. Leo was one of the ranch’s most docile horses, yet even he was looking impatient with the thumping and shifting of the human on his back. In fact—

What would it be like to live without this constant watchfulness, she wondered, this nonstop search for anything that might constitute a threat? She could feel it kicking in as Leo veered away from his rider’s attempt to control the reins, and began trotting purposefully toward the other side of the yard.

The other side of the yard was where the kids were playing. Shelby had been keeping an eye on the red hat she’d clapped onto Emi’s blond head, watching her daughter even though she knew the baby was perfectly safe with the teenagers who were looking after her.

Now, though, Leo’s piebald bulk came between her and her child, and Shelby’s chronic wariness flared into unease. Quickly she dried her hands and stepped out into the yard.

The young rider was hauling back on the reins, ignoring the shouted advice of the teenage babysitters—experienced riders all—to go easy on him. Leo was good-natured, but he hated to have his mouth pulled. Shelby’s heart picked up a beat as she watched him starting to stamp his hooves angrily on the hard-packed earth.

She was halfway to the circle of kids in the sandbox when Leo decided he’d had enough.

She heard him snort, and saw his forefeet come up slightly off the ground. His passenger yelled, and someone from the paddock started running toward them. By now Shelby was running, too, because Leo’s thudding hooves were taking him closer and closer to the sandbox.

She saw the teenagers urging the smaller children out of the way, but all the common sense in the world wasn’t going to be enough to convince her that Emi would be all right if she wasn’t there to see to it herself.

The panicked rider was trying to climb down from Leo’s back now, she noticed fleetingly. It was further unsettling the horse, making him jumpier and more unpredictable. If somebody didn’t take him in hand soon—

It happened almost too late. She didn’t see exactly where the dark-haired stranger had come from. She made a final dash for the sandbox and scooped Emi out of the arms of the teenage girl who held the baby, just as a man sprinted toward Leo and caught his bridle. The big animal was pivoting toward the knot of children, shaking his head, but the man held firm to the leather strap, reaching up his other hand in a gesture that was both firm and calming.

Whoa there, she heard him say, and hoped Leo could recognize, as she did herself, the note of authority in the man’s deep voice. Take it easy, big guy. No need to get all cranky.

Leo disagreed. He was still snorting, trying to shake his head free, but the stranger hung on to the bridle until Rudy ran up from the paddock and took over. The ranch hand eased the rider out of the saddle and led Leo away while treating the inexperienced guest to a lecture about not riding away from the group without permission.

It bad all happened so quickly that Shelby wasn’t quite sure how she’d gotten from rinsing the cookhouse curtains to clutching her baby daughter on the other side of the ranch yard. Her heart was still pounding hard as she lifted Emi’s red cap and smoothed the white-blond baby hair that was so much like her own.

And you didn’t even notice anything was wrong, did you? she said. Honestly, Emi, the world could fall to pieces around you and it wouldn’t bother you a bit.

Shelby kissed the top of the child’s head and put her hat back on, then noticed in her automatic once-over that her daughter had managed—again—to unsnap both sides of her denim rompers in the sandbox. Her pant legs, not to mention her diaper, were doubtless filled with fine sand by now.

And while we’re on the subject of things falling to pieces— she began.

Ms. Henderson?

She’d already forgotten the dark stranger’s presence. In the back of her mind, she’d assumed he was some new guest, someone experienced around horses, judging by the way he’d handled Leo. But to hear him speaking her name—

Ms. Shelby Henderson?

Shelby went still.

They’d found her.

And she hadn’t been ready for it.

Her heart slammed into her chest wall, making it suddenly hard to breathe. She clutched Emi tighter, until her daughter started squirming in her arms.

The man was tall, at least six inches taller than Shelby’s five foot six. His. hair was dark. So was his skin, tanned bronze by the sun. His eyes, when he pulled off the sunglasses that had hidden them, were dark, too, a deep, bottomless brown quickened by an obvious intelligence and fringed by astonishingly thick and long black velvet lashes. His clothes were casual but stylish, a brown linen jacket over a tan T-shirt and trousers.

He didn’t look like a killer. But Shelby wasn’t about to take chances, not with Emi in her arms, a yard full of people watching and everything in her life at stake.

Without answering the stranger’s question, she turned and headed for her cabin.

Wait a minute—

Her abrupt about-face had taken him by surprise, which was what she’d intended. By the time he started to follow her, she was halfway to safety.

The staff cabins were ranged over the hill behind the ranch. Shelby had the last one in the row, a one-bedroom log building with a small porch and a double lock on the door. Her plan was to get inside, lock the door, deposit Emi in her playpen, and grab the police-issue revolver she’d kept after Emilio’s death.

She hated having the gun around, hated the idea of ever using it.

But not as much as she hated the idea of her safety—or her daughter’s—being threatened.

She didn’t quite make it to the cabin steps by the time the dark stranger caught up with her. She could hear his city shoes hitting the hard-packed dirt behind her, cutting in over the quieter steps of her own well-worn sneakers.

When he put a hand on her elbow, she whirled to face him.

Don’t you touch me!

He raised both hands in the air. Ms. Henderson, I’m not one of the bad guys. I work with Jessie Myers. I’m with the FBI.

Shelby took a step back from him. The touch of his skin on hers had been disturbingly close, disturbingly intimate.

It made her realize how long it had been since she’d let a stranger get close enough to touch her.

And how leery she was of any kind of closeness with anyone except Emi. She didn’t want any of the things that were involved in getting too close to people—and she didn’t want anything at all from a man who worked for the FBI.

Yes? She held his dark gaze, challenging him to do the talking.

Jessie would have come herself, but she’s sick. Caught a killer cold from her sister’s kids.

His brown eyes flickered to the baby in Shelby’s arms. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought there was something impatient, almost disapproving, in his glance.

And you are—? She let the sentence hang in the air between them.

Jack Cotter. Special Agent, out of Houston. He reached into his jacket pocket and Shelby stiffened, then relaxed as he handed her an official badge in a leather cover. I’d have pulled that out right away, but I figured you’d rather I didn’t do it in the middle of all those people.

His discretion surprised her. And so did the fact that as soon as he’d pocketed his badge again, he put his hand back on her elbow and started to steer her toward the cabin at the end of the dirt path. Shelby resisted, but his grip was firm, his pace steady and determined.

I told you—

Look, Ms. Henderson, I don’t have a lot of time. I have to be somewhere at six o’clock. And this is important.

She managed to shake him loose as they climbed the cabin steps. Wait outside, then, she said.

She wished she could erase the lingering pressure of his fingers against her forearm as she went into the living room and settled Emi in her playpen. She didn’t like being muscled around, or having her privacy invaded like this. She didn’t like the unsettled feeling she’d had while looking into Jack Cotter’s eyes.

Nothing about the situation pleased her. And when she went back out to the porch she planned to make that clear to Special Agent Jack Cotter.

But she didn’t get the chance.

Are you expecting company?

Cotter’s voice was a rich buzz, a deep baritone that a woman might very easily enjoy listening to. He was an attractive man—in the few confused moments before she’d walked out of the stable yard Shelby had noticed the teenage girls around them eyeing him with open fascination.

It was his voice that caught her attention now, and she didn’t hear the warning note in it quite soon enough.

I’m never expecting company, in case you hadn’t figured that out by now, she said over her shoulder as she put Emi’s current favorite toy—a set of brightly colored plastic rings—into the playpen with her daughter. "I came here because I didn’t want company. I wanted to get away from everybody who ever knew me. And Jessie Myers promised me that she would respect that. I’m not pleased to