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“I know you’re upset—” Bellamy tried again.
“You think?” The woman braced her hands against a rounded set of hips and prepped for round two of the battle she was fighting. “What does it take to get you people off your butts? What if you’re already too late to help Katie and her baby?”
Katie. Bingo.
Baby. Salvation.
The band of tension squeezing Dwight’s chest eased with the satisfaction of details finally falling into place. At the same time, a layer of guilt lifted from his conscience and he almost—almost—smiled with relief.
Though he’d never have suspected she had a mouth like that, he remembered the woman now. Four years ago, she’d worn a bland, shapeless dress instead of curve-hugging jeans and a sheer-sleeved peasant blouse. She’d been so soft-spoken and stoic on the witness stand that he’d had to ask her to speak up.
There was a fire in her now he hadn’t noticed four years ago. Or maybe it hadn’t been there. Maybe that tight clench of desperation lining her full mouth had ignited the flame inside her.
Dwight didn’t believe in coincidence, but he knew enough about how lives interconnected and twisted around on themselves to know that the Joe Rinaldi case, the baby in the conference room and this woman were all connected. Something was up. Something big. He just had to figure it all out.
And Red was going to help.
“Excuse me a minute, A.J.” Dwight was already moving toward the argument in the main room.
Some men might see a woman in need of a gallant rescue. Others might walk on by, thinking her size and attitude meant she could take care of herself. Dwight saw his chance to do right by Tyler Rinaldi without exposing himself to the emotional risk of caring for the child.
Dwight smoothed his lapels and straightened his collar as he went, donning an air of authority he wore as easily as his tailored suit. Shading his voice with a pinch of arrogance, he addressed the detective while the redhead paced away from the desk. “Is there a problem, Detective?”
Cooper Bellamy was a good three inches taller and more than a decade younger than Dwight. But the bald detective seemed relieved that backup of any sort had arrived. He offered a deferring nod. “Sir.”
“Yes, there’s a problem. I’m—” Red spun around but halted mid-charge, swallowing her words on a quick, stuttered breath “—oh, um, you.”
Though Dwight tried to see her as nothing more than a means to an end, he got caught up in the darkening tint of her deep blue eyes. Two seconds ago, she’d been circling Bellamy’s desk like a lioness in her cage. Now the energy seemed to drain from her like a popped balloon.
Her breasts heaved and a blush of color started beneath the drawstring at her cleavage and crept all the way up her neck. Her hand and Dwight’s gaze went to that same stretch of creamy, rosy skin. Despite his ill-timed fascination with the generous dimensions of her figure, he was more intrigued to see her backbone sliding into place as she overcame whatever had temporarily sidelined her and extended her hand. “Mr. Powers. You probably don’t remember me. I’m Maddie—”
“I know who you are, Mrs. McCallister.” Dwight wrapped his bigger hand around hers, liking the firmness of her grip. “You sat with Katie Rinaldi at her father’s murder trial. Offered key testimony. You stood up to his threats and helped me put him away.”
With her pale, alabaster skin, she couldn’t hide the remnants of her temper. Or was that embarrassment staining her cheeks now?
“Wow, you do remember me.” Her grip trembled before she pulled away. She tucked her hair behind her ears and offered him a wry smile. “Mrs. McCallister was my mother, though. I’m just Ms. I’m Katie’s legal guardian now.”
“Even better.”
Those blue eyes narrowed. “Better than what?”
Instead of giving her the satisfaction of a straight answer, Dwight took her by the elbow and gestured toward the conference room. “Ms. McCallister? I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
WITH A NOD TO A.J., Dwight cleared the conference room and closed the door. He hung back, leaning against the door frame to watch Maddie and Roberta Hays, the DFS caseworker, verbally duke it out. Mrs. Hays—a skinny sixtyish woman who seemed to have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning—had arrived twenty minutes ago. She flashed an ID from family services and announced that she was here to take the baby.
Dwight might have been content to allow the authorities to handle the kid’s placement if he hadn’t already gone to the trouble of introducing Tyler to his great-aunt. But guilt made a mean conscience. And while he wanted nothing to do with that baby, leaving Red to fend for herself against the State of Missouri felt like abandoning a client in the middle of a case.
Aunt Maddie, as she’d called herself when picking up the boy, was a natural talent in the maternal department. She’d cried when he first told her Tyler was Katie’s son. Tears of overwhelming emotions that couldn’t be contained. Tears that turned her eyes a deep shade of midnight-blue and made him squirm with the urge to say or do something to make her pain go away.
When she’d finally smiled, caught up in her grandnephew’s bright gaze, that tight fist of discomfort inside him released its grip. Then she’d cried some more before wiping her tears and getting down to the business of tending to the infant. She’d fed him a bottle, changed his diaper and soothed the little one to sleep with a gentle, husky tune that had pricked Dwight’s nerves into an uneasy state of awareness.
Sturdy was not, perhaps, the kindest—or most apt—word Dwight could have used to describe Maddie McCallister. This more mature, more vibrant version of the plain, quiet woman he remembered filled out the curves of her jeans and gauzy blouse. Yet she wasn’t poured into them, trying to pretend she was something she wasn’t. His eyes lingered longer than they should have on the plump breast where she cradled the infant as she answered the caseworker’s questions and asked a few succinct queries of her own.
“Who else would he be?” Maddie argued. “I don’t understand why I can’t take him home with me.”
Roberta Hays tucked her spiky salt-and-pepper hair behind her ears and shrugged an apology. “It’s a matter of proper identification. DFS needs irrefutable proof that this baby is Katie Rinaldi’s son before we can turn him over to a family member.”
Maddie adjusted Tyler onto her shoulder and patted his bottom. “What kind of proof?”
“Blood tests. DNA. A birth certificate would be nice.” Mrs. Hays packed the items Dwight had purchased into the diaper bag she’d brought with her. “You’d be surprised at how desperate some people are to have a child, Ms. McCallister.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“They’ll bypass legal-adoption channels and claim abandoned babies as their own.” She continued on when Maddie would have protested the veiled accusation. “Ever since that Baby Jane Doe’s body was found in the city dump last year, the demand for babies in the Kansas City area has skyrocketed. Everybody wants to save a child.”
“Baby Jane Doe was murdered,” Maddie pointed out through clenched teeth. Was she afraid that would be Tyler’s fate, too, if she let him out of her arms? “I would think you’d be glad that people are stepping forward to accept responsibility to keep our children safe.”
“Not if it means separating a child from his real family.”
“I am Tyler’s real family.”
Roberta shrugged. “Your last name’s different, your niece isn’t here to verify—”
“Because she’s in trouble.”
“You have to admit, dear. You look suspicious.”
“What?”
Roberta shook her head, then grimaced as if even that small movement made her weary. “You’re an unmarried professional woman. Childless. A little past your prime, if you’ll pardon the expression. Your biological clock must be ticking off the wall.”
“Excuse me?” Shock and frustration colored Maddie’s skin and Dwight shifted squarely onto his feet, half obeying the urge to join the fight.
“I’m just saying you fit the profile of someone who raises a red flag when it comes to custody and adoption. It’s not a flat-out no, but our policy is to do some extra research into the prospective caregiver in a situation like this. We don’t want the legal parents to show up and have to tell them their child is gone.” Raising her hands in a placating manner did nothing to soothe Maddie’s defensive expression.
“If Katie could be here, I’d give her Tyler in a heartbeat. In the meantime, I would hope that she’d be a little less worried about whatever she’s going through if she knew her son was safe with me.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but my hands are tied. You might get a judge to rule in your favor but not until the courts open on Monday. And then you have to get scheduled on the docket and get tests done and paperwork filed. In the meantime, Tyler’s in the custody of DFS. I have to place him in temporary foster care.”
“He’s already lost his mother—for the time being,” Maddie emphasized. “He shouldn’t lose the only other family he has.”
Maddie McCallister was a fighter. But she was losing an uphill battle.
Dwight stepped forward and interrupted the debate. If his conscience dictated that he be here, he might as well be doing something useful.
“Mrs. Hays.” The older woman faced him, her hangdog expression and fatalistic tone indicating a need for lunch, sleep or, perhaps, early retirement. Dwight offered her an easy way out of having to maintain her tough stance. “As Katie’s legal guardian, Ms. McCallister has the credentials to be a qualified foster parent.”
“Of course.” Maddie’s blue eyes perked up. “I was Katie’s foster mom before the court awarded me full custody after the trial.”
Roberta was slower to catch on to his logic. “That’s all well and good, Mr. Powers, but that doesn’t prove she’s family.”
“You have to place Tyler in temporary foster care—for the rest of the weekend, at least.” He tilted his head toward Maddie. “She’s your temporary solution.”
“Well, I suppose I could call my supervisor to check Ms. McCallister’s license. If her name’s already in the system—”
“It is,” Maddie chimed in. “My foster-care license should still be valid.”
“And I’ll vouch for her personally,” Dwight stated in a deep dare-you-to-contradict-me voice that had swayed juries and now prompted a pair of deep blue eyes to gape at him in surprise.
Roberta’s skinny frame seemed to gain strength at the prospect of someone else shouldering her responsibilities while she got the rest of her Saturday off. “I suppose.” She turned to include Maddie. “The boy seems to like you, at any rate. But just until Monday. Then I will have to insist that we do everything by the book as far as any long-term placement goes.”
“Sounds like a fair compromise.” Dwight nodded his agreement.
“Yes.” Maddie’s hopeful energy eclipsed the taller woman standing beside her. “I’ll contact a judge on Monday, do blood tests, whatever you need. Thank you. I promise I’ll take good care of him.”
“You’d better.” The hint of a smile subtracted years from Roberta’s face. She glanced from Maddie to the baby, then back to Dwight before grabbing the cellphone and a pack of cigarettes from her purse. “Just let me make a couple of calls. My supervisor, Mr. Fairfax, will be out on the golf course today. It’ll take me a few minutes to track him down.”
Dwight watched the older woman scuttle past him out the door, wondering how long it would take her to place the calls and get her nicotine fix before she returned. Wondering how long it would be before he could clear this crisis from his life and get down to some serious, solitary paperwork.
“Thank you, Mr. Powers.”
Dwight dragged his attention back to Maddie. She was smiling again. Not that weary expression of relief that had marked Roberta Hays’s features but a bold, full-lipped curve of unabashed gratitude. Her azure gaze boldly held on to his from across the room, and her wide smile transformed her plain features into something remarkable. A chink in Dwight’s defensive armor scraped open, exposing the strangest desire to smile back.
But, no, that would only encourage conversations and connections. And she was too into her momness for him to be able to handle anything other than this brief, businesslike transaction.
Dwight cleared his throat, breaking the expectant silence and flattening her unanswered smile. “Well, if that’s all you need, I’m out of here. It’s been a long night.” He thumbed over his shoulder to the door. “The detectives or Mrs. Hays will answer any other questions you have. Good luck with everything.”
Chapter Three
Good luck?
The man who’d come to her rescue four years ago after Joe’s trial didn’t seem willing to play hero a second time.
But what kind of professional dismissed a frightened woman, an innocent baby and an unsolved mystery that had literally landed on the middle of his desk with a good luck? Maddie had been ignored by men more than once in her life. But she’d never had one so openly eager to escape her company.
She shifted Tyler into one arm, already falling in love with the precious weight of him and soft smells she inhaled with every breath. Dwight Powers’s broad, unyielding back triggered a different, more volatile reaction inside her as she followed him out into the hallway. She braced her hand to catch the door before he accidentally closed it in her face.
“Hey.”
A storm brewed in Dwight’s gray-green eyes as he turned to face her, despite his politely calm voice. “Was there something else?”
“We’re not finished here,” she insisted, tilting her chin and pretending there was nothing intimidating about the height and breadth and dour countenance of the man blocking the exit. “Aren’t you concerned at all about Katie? I was hoping you could tell me something more.”
He propped a forearm on the frame beside her head, bringing those turbulent eyes and that unrelenting jaw even closer. “Trust me, I know very little about how the mind of a teenage girl works.”
Maddie fought her body’s urge to retreat a step as Dwight’s shoulders filled her peripheral vision. Tyler stirred against her as if he’d absorbed her tension, even in his sleep. She slowly rubbed his soft, warm back, for her own comfort as much as his. “You’re the one she entrusted her son to. You must have some idea why.”
“Actually, I don’t.” He glanced down at Tyler, his nostrils flaring as if something about the baby’s sweet talcum-powder smell offended him. But his expression shuttered so quickly that Maddie wondered if she’d imagined his reaction. “I’m sure it was just an impulsive mistake. She’d want you to have him.”
“Mr. Powers.” In a bold move fueled by fear, frustration and way too little sleep, Maddie grabbed a fistful of Dwight’s lapel and tugged him back into the conference room. He was startled enough to let the door close, giving them privacy once more. When her thighs bumped into the table behind her, Maddie loosened her grip and brushed at the wrinkles she’d put in the summer-weight wool.
But just as the warmth and hardness of the body beneath that suit jacket registered through her fingertips, Dwight stopped her hand, pushed it away and retreated a step. “What do you want from me? Legal advice? Money?”
That warmth must only be skin-deep. “I want answers. I want my niece back. I need to know why she turned to you.”
“I wish I knew.”
He turned away and circled the end of the long, narrow table. Without missing a beat, Maddie mirrored his path, pacing along the opposite side. “I’m very grateful to you for convincing Mrs. Hays to let me keep Tyler. I didn’t even know he’d arrived. Believe me, I’m relieved to know that he’s all right. But now I’m really worried about Katie. Did she have a healthy delivery? Is someone taking care of her? What if…” Maddie paused. She didn’t know where all these words were coming from or when she’d developed the nerve to say them, but she refused to give voice to the possibility that Katie hadn’t survived Tyler’s birth. “She’s like a daughter to me. I won’t rest until she’s home safe, too.”
“Detectives Rodriguez and Bellamy can answer your questions better than I can.” He spared her an annoyed glance before pivoting back toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“No.”
He slowly turned and glared at her. “No?”
“No.”
As they faced off across the table, Maddie could see it. She finally understood why Katie had left Tyler with Dwight Powers.
The evidence was in Dwight’s massive shoulders and blunt, unsmiling features. It was there in the flecks of silver camouflaged in his trim, wheat-colored hair. The brawny lawyer radiated strength—not just the physical kind, but strength of will and character and life experience. It was there in the square set of his jaw, the succinct articulation of his voice, the keen intelligence and inexplicable shadows in his storm-cloud eyes.
The resentment Maddie felt, knowing Katie had more faith in Dwight Powers than in her own flesh and blood, ebbed, even as her pulse tripped into overtime under his intense scrutiny. It still hurt that Katie hadn’t trusted her enough to share whatever troubled her, that her niece thought it was smarter to run away than to rely on her. It broke Maddie’s heart to know that, despite her best efforts to be there for her, Katie had chosen to go through childbirth on her own.
Dwight Powers might be a grouchy old bear who needed a few lessons in PR and patience. His bold, intriguing face might need a shave and a smile to make it handsome. But an enemy would think twice about going after anything he held dear.
Katie would feel safe with Dwight Powers standing between her and whatever threat pursued her. He’d stand like a rock between the world and her baby.
If he was so inclined to take such a stand.
This hard-edged attorney had little in common with the hero who’d stood for a few moments between her and the monster who’d killed her sister. So far, Maddie had seen little evidence of this older Dwight caring enough about anything, except a speedy departure, to believe he would fight for her niece.
But Katie had faith in the ADA. Though Maddie was less willing to put her trust in such a hard, heartless man, she prayed that the teenager was right. “Detective Bellamy said Katie left you a note. Can you, at least, tell me what she said?”
Lines furrowed beside his gray-green eyes. “Ask Detective Rodriguez. He took possession of the letter.”
“I’m asking you.”
“You wouldn’t like what she had to say.”
“Tell me, anyway.”
His chest heaved in a mighty sigh. He splayed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “She wants me to call the baby Tyler Powers and tell him she loves him. She didn’t say a damn thing that would give us a clue as to where she is or what’s got her so spooked.”
Tyler Powers? Maddie fought to ignore the fateful implication that changing Tyler’s name meant Katie didn’t think she’d be back to claim her son. “So, you agree—Katie’s running from something.”
“If she shares any of your stubbornness, Ms. McCallister, I imagine that handing her baby over to me was a last resort. So, yeah, she’s scared of something. Of course,” he paused, but his gaze never flinched from hers, “the blood we found in my office might have something to do with that.”
“Blood?” Maddie’s own veins seemed to stop up. Then the blood rushed to her feet and her breath got stuck in her chest. Dwight’s face blurred in front of her eyes. Katie wasn’t coming back. “Katie’s hurt?”
