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Hostage Midwife
Hostage Midwife
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Hostage Midwife

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“I’ll be in touch.”

He pivoted and strode away from her. She imagined that being a private investigator wasn’t a pleasant job; you’d be spying on people, confronting them and serving them with legal papers. Y. E. Trask seemed to have exactly the right temperament for his work—hostile, aggressive and a little nasty.

It bothered her that Nick had sent Trask to interview her without letting her know. He should have warned her that a creepy white-haired man would show up on Serena’s doorstep and accuse her of holding back. Something about this wasn’t right. She decided to talk to Nick.

Her cell phone was in the pocket of the denim jacket she’d grabbed before coming outside. She pulled it out and redialed the number he’d used last night to call her from the hospital. When he answered, she almost hung up. What had she been thinking? Nick had just lost a close family member; she shouldn’t be bothering him because a private eye was rude to her.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Been better,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you. I wanted to thank you again for the way you jumped in and tried to save my uncle.”

“I’m glad to help in any way I can. I tried to answer questions for your private investigator, but I think I made him angry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The guy you sent out to Serena’s house. He’s an investigator working for your family. His name is Y. E. Trask. He has white hair.”

“Hold on.” She could hear him talking to someone else but couldn’t tell what he was saying until he came back on the line. “Kelly, nobody has ever heard of him. He doesn’t work for us.”

Who sent him? And why?

Chapter Four

Monday, Noon

During the drive from Valiant to Serena’s farm, Nick was steamed. He hated that Kelly was being harassed. She was completely innocent—a bystander who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

When he got her phone call, he’d been tangled in a mass of corporate red tape generated by the lawyers, the police, his family and employees. Everyone looked to him—as the most senior member of the Spencer clan—to make the necessary decisions. Nick was expected to step up and take control.

Truth be told, he was probably the least informed person in the room. Working out of his office in Breckenridge, he managed to avoid most of the corporate decisions. That was his brother’s job. Unfortunately, Jared was still in Singapore.

At a mailbox painted with flowers and butterflies, he made a left turn and drove down a long, curving driveway. Hearing Kelly’s voice had given him a focus—a problem he could deal with. He needed to find out who had contacted her and why and, most of all, if she was in any kind of danger from this fake investigator.

Though he’d never been to the farm owned by Serena and Nigel Bellows, he knew he was in the right place when he saw the farmhouse—a mash-up of architectural styles that Marian had described as crazy. From modern A-frame to the Victorian tower topped by an ornate weather vane to the wild splashes of color painted on the barn, none of the construction made sense. And yet, he felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he parked and got out of his SUV.

In keeping with the fanciful atmosphere, a fat goat sashayed toward him, followed by a little blond girl wearing a yellow sweatshirt and a tiara. “You will be the prince,” she said to him. “You’re supposed to slay the dragon. It’s your job.”

He reached down and scratched the goat between her floppy ears. “Is this the dragon?”

“That’s a goat, silly. It’s Fifi.”

“And what’s your name?”

She flipped her hair away from her small, freckled face. “I’m Princess Butterfly.”

She was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He wanted to hug Princess Butterfly and her pet goat for reminding him that being irritated by lawyers and accountants was a sheer waste of time. If he wanted to get the job done, he had to step up and slay the corporate dragon.

Kelly raced around the corner of the house, wearing a red sheet as a cape and a cardboard hat with scales and spikes. Her brown sweatshirt was raggedy and oversized. Two other small children and a llama accompanied her.

“Hi, Nick.” She gave him a little wave, and then she roared. “The dragon is nigh.”

Princess Butterfly ducked behind him. “Get her.”

He braced himself and pointed imperiously toward Kelly. “No way, dragon. I banish you.”

She whipped off her cape and hat as she collapsed into the dirt. “Oh, no, I’m melting.”

All the kids ran to help her. “No, dragon, don’t die. That’s not how it works.”

She stopped melting. “It’s not?”

“No,” they chorused. “You turn into another princess.”

“Okay.” She popped back up. “I’m Princess Kelly.”

After a few more reassurances, she sent the children back to the house and came toward him. Her straight hair was messy from being a half-melted dragon, and she tucked the loose strands behind her ears. “Thanks for playing along.”

“I didn’t know you were so ferocious.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m a fire-breather.” She picked up the sheet and folded it under her arm. “You really didn’t need to come all the way out here. I could have driven into town.”

“Seeing this house is worth the drive.”

“Unusual, huh?”

“I’ve never experienced anything like it.” And that was saying a lot. Nick had a master’s degree in architecture and had designed hotels, condos and custom houses. “I did a house in Aspen that looks like a flying saucer, and a Gothic-type castle for a rock star. Fun projects, but not as unique as this farmhouse.”

“The people who live here make it happy and interesting.”

“That’s always true. A house is only a shell.”

She reached toward him and lightly rested her hand on his sleeve. Her chin tilted up, and her pale green eyes scanned his face as though searching for something important. “I’m sorry about your uncle’s death.”

Other people had offered condolences, but he sensed true empathy from her. “I appreciate your concern.”

“Tell me about Samuel.”

“He was a crazy old man, eccentric as hell.” That was the standard line. Most people would describe his uncle that way, but Nick appreciated the creativity that came along with Samuel’s unusual perspective. “I admired his talent. We didn’t talk every day or even every month. But we were close. Maybe it was the DNA, but I understood who he was. At least, I thought I did.”

Without another word, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. Her touch reached through the wall of self-control he’d built to keep going. There wasn’t time to fall apart; he needed to take care of business.

Nick hadn’t cried for his uncle, hadn’t shed a tear or acknowledged the pain of losing him, but as he enfolded her in his embrace, raw emotion poured through his veins. His sadness was tempered by anger. How could Samuel commit suicide? Why would he choose death? Nick should have been more aware of his uncle’s state of mind, should have talked to him, should have seen his desperation.

He lowered his head and rubbed his cheek against her silky hair while inhaling the strawberry scent of her shampoo. Holding Kelly grounded him and gave him clarity. “I’m going to miss him.”

“He was a part of your life.”

She shifted her weight and leaned back. Just as easily as they had come together, they separated. It surprised him that he didn’t feel uncomfortable about their embrace. Having Kelly in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m glad I came out here,” he said. “I like seeing you, and I needed a break from Marian and the lawyers.”

“Did any of them know Trask?”

“No.” Time to get down to business. “Show me his card.”

She dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a plain, white card with the name, occupation and a phone number. “He seemed real concerned about Samuel’s dying words, and he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t remember him saying anything that made sense.”

Nick recalled the scene from last night. When Kelly took over with his uncle, he had stepped aside. “I wasn’t aware that he said anything.”

“He was barely conscious, mumbling. He told me to close the door. I guess he was talking about the door we crashed through.”

There was one other door in the room, the door to a closet. Though he’d assumed that Samuel committed suicide, Nick had opened that door and looked inside to make sure no one was hiding there. “What else?”

“Gold,” she said. “He repeated it several times. And he said something about a heart of stone or a stone heart. It reminded me of a lyric in a country-western song. Does it mean anything to you?”

He shook his head. “You said that Trask didn’t believe you. What made you think that?”

Her lips pulled into a frown. “He told me that I’d better not be holding anything back.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“I’m not sure if it was meant that way.” Her frown deepened. “Trask is a very unpleasant person.”

“I don’t like him snooping around,” Nick said.

“Neither do I, especially since he came here. If Trask is dangerous, I don’t want him near Serena and the children.”

“Agreed,” he said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Would you mind coming back to the Spencer Building with me?”

“Not a problem. But I’ll need to change into a more presentable jacket.”

“I like the threadbare dragon look.” He fell into step beside her as they approached the house. “How many people live here?”

“Serena and Nigel have three children and an infant. Serena’s sister is also staying here for a couple of weeks to help out. I’m sharing a bedroom with her.”

“How long are you planning to stay in the area?”

“I’m not sure.” She gave a little shrug. “When Serena called and asked me to help with her clients while she was taking care of her baby, I realized how much I missed Colorado. I’ve always loved the mountains, and this feels like home to me. I gave up my apartment in Austin.”

“That sounds like a permanent move.” And he was glad to hear it. He wanted to get to know Kelly better, which might take more than a couple of weeks. “Are you planning to stay here with Serena?”

“God, no. I love her and adore her kids, but I’d go mad if I lived here. I need my privacy.”

When she pushed open the door to an open room with cathedral ceilings, they walked into a recital of something that sounded like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” All three kids were singing and banging on various types of drums while their parents watched and dutifully applauded before welcoming Nick into their home.

Nick shook hands with Nigel, who looked familiar. “Have you done work at the Spencer Building?”

“Private contracting with a couple of the software firms,” he said. “My wife tells me that you showed Kelly the gold.”

Everybody loved that gold. “If you’d like to see it, let me know when you’re coming by.”

“You bet I will.”

Serena, with her beautiful baby in her arms, joined them. She allowed him one peek at the infant who was, miraculously, sleeping. Then she got right to the point. “You and Kelly have made a connection. I couldn’t be happier.”

“A connection?”

“She’s ready to settle down,” Serena said, “and I want her to stay in Valiant and help me build my business.”

Kelly popped up beside him. Still wearing her khaki pants, she’d changed into a lightweight burgundy jacket. “We have to go.”

“Stay,” Serena cajoled. “There’s so much more I have to tell Nick about you.”

Teasing, Nick said, “And I want to hear it all.”

“Not today.” She linked her arm with his and pulled him toward the door. “Serena, I have my cell if you need me.”

On the porch, she exhaled in a whoosh. “I bet you didn’t know you’d volunteered to be on the Serena Bellows version of the dating game.”

“I like her and Nigel.” Fifi trotted by carrying the red dragon cape in her mouth. “And the whole menagerie.”

With all this rampant energy and enthusiasm, he’d forgotten that he’d come here to make sure Kelly wasn’t being harassed or threatened by Trask. As they walked toward his SUV, he was reminded of the possible danger. Parked at the end of the winding drive that led to the Bellowses’ house was a black stretch limousine.

Kelly saw it, too. “Do you know who that is?”

“I intend to find out.” He paused outside the driver’s-side door to his SUV. “You should go back to the house while I talk to them.”

“If this has something to do with Samuel’s death and his last words, the people in the limo might be looking for me,” she said. “I’m coming with you.”

He didn’t argue. “I’ll drive. I want the limo to follow us. If it stays here, Princess Butterfly and the goats might decide to check it out.”

“That can’t happen.” Her voice was determined. “If anybody scares these kids, I’ll have to kill them.”

“You bloodthirsty dragons are all alike.”

He brought her around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Though Nick was keeping the tone light so Kelly wouldn’t be worried, he had misgivings. Why was a limo here? What the hell were they after?

He drove down the driveway toward the cheerful mailbox and made a right turn as though heading back to Valiant. As he’d expected, the limo followed on the two-lane asphalt road. The way he saw it, there were two options: contact the police or face the limo himself.

Thus far, he hadn’t been impressed with the local cops or the Colorado Bureau of Investigation agents. They’d been quick to accept that Samuel committed suicide, and the case was closed. Nick thought there was a lot more to be investigated, and he was going to have to be more involved.

Kelly had her cell phone in hand. “Should I call 911?”

“Not yet. I want to see what they’re up to.”

The SUV was approaching the unmanned volunteer fire department building, a good place to pull over. Nick signaled a turn and stepped on the brake.

“Do you have a gun?” she asked.