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“What do you want me to do?”
Though he didn’t look at her, his voice told her he had resigned himself to the obligation. Part of her wanted to be angry that it had taken such prodding to secure his help, but the reality was she didn’t care. As long as he helped her it didn’t matter why.
Another harsh reality shook her with an impact that would surely register on the Richter scale. Where did they start?
“I…” She swallowed at the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. “I don’t know.”
Blue eyes tangled with her own of a paler shade. Her mind immediately considered the idea that their baby would likely have blue eyes as well.
She shook her head. Absolute focus was essential. “I was found abandoned and alone.” And half dead, she didn’t bother adding. “No one discovered the fact that I’d recently given birth until right before I regained consciousness.” The truth was the hospital staff had been so focused on keeping her alive that nothing else had mattered at first. Eventually when all other possibilities had been exhausted in an attempt to trace down the source of the near-lethal staph infection, the indications that she had recently given birth were discovered.
“Have they uncovered the cause of your amnesia?” At her questioning expression, he went on. “Raven’s Cliff is a small village. I heard through my housekeeper that when you awoke you remembered nothing since falling from the cliffs.”
Funny, nothing went without discussion in this small village and yet her child was missing. Someone had held her for months, delivered her baby, and then disappeared without anyone noticing. Evidently right here in Raven’s Cliff.
Her legs wouldn’t hold her anymore. She shuffled to the nearest chair and collapsed there. “The experts believe the amnesia is drug related. At first it was assumed that I’d suffered head trauma from the fall, but there was no indication of major or permanent damage.” She closed her eyes a moment before she continued. “The theory is that I was drugged for the duration. Then, before the drugs wore off, the staph infection worsened. Between that, dehydration and God only knows what else, I slipped into a coma. My last memories are of my wedding day.” She took a bolstering breath. “Then of waking up in the hospital.”
The psychologist working on her case theorized that perhaps the missing time was too painful to remember. Since she was physically recovered with no apparent reason for the lapse in memory, the cause had to be psychosomatic. She couldn’t rule out that theory, and quite frankly she didn’t care why she couldn’t remember. She only wanted to find her child.
Nicholas remained silent for an endless minute as he obviously considered all that she had told him and whatever he had heard since she was found.
“We have no way of knowing where you were held,” he began, his tone somber.
Her chest tightened as she nodded her agreement.
“We have no idea who held you or why.”
Another nod of concurrence wasn’t necessary, and that was just as well. If she moved she might very well throw up. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten, but the nagging desire to empty her stomach persisted, gained force with each passing second.
“And—” his gaze leveled fully on hers “—we don’t know if the baby survived beyond birth.”
Ice slid along every nerve ending, hardened in her blood. “There’s no reason to think otherwise,” she argued.
Was that pity in his eyes? Or regret?
“You said yourself that the experts believe you were drugged for all those months…”
He didn’t have to say more.
He was right.
Maybe someone at the hospital had even mentioned that possibility to her but she had wiped it out. Denied the potential.
No. She refused to consider it now. “Lots of babies survive prolonged drug use by their mothers.” Mothers hooked on illegal drugs delivered living babies all the time. There were problems, but at least the child was alive.
“My baby is alive.” She dredged up her courage and exiled the fear and uncertainty.
With one downward sweep of his dark lashes, the regret or pity she’d noted vanished and was replaced by the fierce indifference of the beast. “How do you know? The odds are not in your favor. Give me one valid reason we should even bother with a search and I’ll do all within my power to find your child.”
Your child, not our child. Fine, if that was the way he wanted to play it.
“I only have one,” Camille said, pushing to her feet so that she could look him squarely in the eyes. She swayed but steadied herself in time to prevent his reaching out to her. “I can feel it. Right here.” She released the blanket, allowing it to puddle around her feet, and pressed both hands over her heart. “My baby is alive. He’s out there waiting for me to bring him home.”
The undamaged corner of his mouth twitched. “And you know the child is a boy.”
Camille nodded. “Yes.” She hadn’t actually come to that conclusion until that moment, but somehow she knew with every fiber of her being that the baby was a boy. Her little boy.
He sighed, the sound weary, reluctant. “All right.” He pushed the tousled hair back from his face. “We’ll start with who found you. We need as much information as possible.”
That would be a waste of time. “Detective Lagios has gone over what he saw that night a hundred times. He was in a car chase with the Seaside Strangler. It was dark and rainy. The fog was thick. He almost missed seeing me lying there on the side of the road. He carried me to the clinic, and that’s all there is.”
“I remember.” Nicholas stepped closer, bent down, picked up the blanket and draped it around her shoulders once more. “If I’m going to help you, there’s one thing we must get straight right from the beginning.”
He was going to help her? She shivered. His touch did that to her. It made her furious that he affected her so easily. But then, he was the father of her child.
And the only man she’d ever loved.
Don’t even go there. She needed his help, nothing more. She couldn’t go back down that path.
“What’s that?” She fisted her fingers into the blanket and pulled it close.
“We will do this my way.” He held up a hand when she would have protested. “No negotiations.”
“Fine.” Anything. She only cared that they got started.
“We’ll start first thing in the morning.”
Tomorrow? No! “We have to start now.” Didn’t he get it? Her baby was out there. The idea that he hadn’t been fed…or bathed…tore at Camille’s heart. “Right now, Nicholas. No negotiations,” she reiterated, using his words.
“It’s after midnight,” he said quietly. “We can’t storm into a person’s house at this time of night and hope to achieve cooperation.”
Like she had done? She hadn’t considered the time. She’d come straight here as soon as she’d given her parents the slip.
“But—”
Banging on the front door made her jump. Her heart rocketed into her throat. Had her father tracked her here? He would not be happy. She hadn’t told her parents who the real father was yet…she’d let them believe the child was Grant’s. It was easier.
Now who was the coward?
Before she could mull over that idea, Nicholas had strode to the window next to the door and peered out past the curtain.
“It’s Chief Swanson.”
Goose bumps spilled across her skin. The chief thought she had hurt her baby. That she’d done the unspeakable. Had her father sent him here to bring her home?
More banging on the door jerked her from the troubling thoughts.
“Sterling, it’s Chief Swanson. I need to speak with you!”
Camille didn’t know what to do. Should she hide?
Nicholas held her gaze another moment. “Is there anything else I should know?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she shook her head.
He turned his attention to the door and opened it. “It’s late,” he said to the chief.
Swanson removed his hat and shook himself to send the water flying from his overcoat before stepping across the threshold. “This couldn’t wait.” His gaze landed on Camille and he blinked, clearly startled. “Miss Wells,” he said with a dip of his head.
“Chief.” She couldn’t keep the antagonism out of that one word. How could this man, a man who had known her for most of her life, believe she’d hurt or abandoned her child?
Nicholas closed the door and folded his arms over his broad chest. “What couldn’t wait?”
The chief turned his hat in his hands as if he didn’t look forward to passing along whatever he’d come here to say. “Someone has leaked your identity.”
The news sent a tremor of fear through Camille. Though Nicholas looked unfazed, she was certain he had to be worried as well.
“How did that happen?” he demanded. “Only you, Lagios and the village’s legal counsel knew.”
The chief pressed his lips together and moved his head solemnly from side to side before admitting, “I can only assume someone overheard a telephone conversation between me and Andrei.” He blew out a burdened breath. “I hate to think that any of my deputies would have done such a thing, but there’s just no other explanation. We both know that most folks around here, my staff included, aren’t going to feel any sympathy for you.”
Camille’s shoulders sagged with the weight of what this meant. The citizens of Raven’s Cliff would not be happy that they had again been misled by one of their own. Between her father’s betrayal, Fisher’s and Gibson’s, the whole village was overwhelmed. One more infraction might just send any number of normally good citizens over the edge. Battle-fatigued already from a serial killer, a mad scientist and a terrorist group, anything could happen.
“I received a dozen calls in the past two hours,” Swanson explained. He looked from Nicholas to Camille and back. “They’re already talking about the curse.”
The curse. Dear Lord. Camille closed her eyes and caught herself as she swayed again. This was too much. Nicholas needed to be focused on helping her find her child. He didn’t need this insanity right now.
“I appreciate your warning me,” Nicholas said, his tone resigned. “I don’t care what the people of Raven’s Cliff think of me. You know what I came here to do. I’ve waited far too long as it is.”
Judging by the chief’s grave expression, there was more bad news. “It’s not going to be that simple, Nicholas.”
Nicholas flinched at the familiarity. “What do you mean?”
“Some of them have put two and two together. They’ve reasoned that you’ve been here for the better part of the past five years. So have their troubles. That makes those who usually lend no credibility to the curse think twice.” He fumbled with his hat a bit more. “They want you gone. Now. Tonight.”
“No.” Camille didn’t realize she’d said the word aloud until both the chief and Nicholas turned to her. Her face flushed. “He…” She might as well say it. “He can’t leave.”
“Miss Wells,” the chief said patiently, “unless he’s broken a law I have no cause to run him out of town, so don’t mistake what I’m here to do.”
“What are you here to do?” Nicholas asked pointedly, drawing the chief’s attention back to him.
“I’m here to warn you. It’s a damned shame that some folks have to act this way, but it’s only human I suppose. The fact of the matter is, I can’t guarantee your safety, considering.”
Considering. Fury bolted through Camille. “That’s ridiculous.” She took a step in the chief’s direction. “When I was in the hospital, I had around-the-clock security. If you can do it for me, you can do it for Nicholas. Post a deputy outside.” She thrust her hand toward the front of the cottage. “I would think you would’ve already taken that measure.”
The chief shrugged. “I’ll do all I can, Miss Wells. But the people of Raven’s Cliff are pretty worked up. They’ve been through a lot. Some folks aren’t thinking rationally.”
“I appreciate your efforts,” Nicholas said. “But I can handle this myself.”
“I don’t—” Whatever the chief would have said was interrupted by his cell phone. He pulled the phone from his belt. “Swanson.”
Camille’s burst of adrenaline abandoned her, leaving her weak and feeling defeated. What did they do now? Finding her child had to be priority. If anyone got in the way—
The chief’s call ended and he tucked the phone back into his belt, dragging her attention to him once more. “Looks like we’re about to find out just how ugly this is going to get.”
The air in Camille’s lungs evacuated.
“There’s a riled-up mob headed this way. My deputies are trying to dissuade them, but they’re not cooperating.”
Before Nicholas or Camille could respond, the sound of angry shouts erupted outside.
The chief rushed to the window and looked out, then turned back to Nicholas. “They’re here.”
Chapter Three
Nicholas stepped back from the window. At least a dozen villagers had climbed out of the four vehicles parked haphazardly in front of his cottage. The darkness shrouded their faces and whatever weapons they carried. Two police cruisers, blue lights throbbing, had screeched to a halt in the narrow street. Judging by the angry shouts, cooperation wasn’t part of the plan.
“Nicholas, you and Camille stay inside and let me and my men handle this,” Swanson ordered.
Since Camille had apparently walked through the rain to get here, there was no vehicle outside to give away her presence. The last thing Nicholas wanted was for her to be dragged into what was likely to happen.
He pushed aside the news she had announced. Now was not the time to contemplate the unexpected emotions the revelation had evoked. There was an immediate decision to be made.
This could turn into a violent confrontation. Nicholas had no desire for any of the villagers, whatever their intent, to be hurt or arrested. This, all of this, was his fault.
He turned to the chief. “Obviously they have questions for me. Hiding won’t change how they feel. I need to give them the answers they seek.” He couldn’t change the fact that more than likely all of Raven’s Cliff now knew his identity. It was time to face the consequences of his secretive presence.
“Mr. Sterling,” Chief Swanson argued, his tone firming into one of judicial formality, “I’m certain that’s not a good idea. You just stay in here and I’ll get these folks settled down. You go out there and there’s no telling what might happen.”
“He’s right.” Camille moved closer, her expression worried. “Don’t go out there, Nicholas.”
Nicholas didn’t miss the frustrated look the chief sent in her direction. Did this man actually believe that Camille would be capable of abandoning, giving away or somehow hurting her own child? Impossible.
“Stay with the chief,” Nicholas instructed Camille.
“Sterling,” the chief protested as Nicholas reached for his overcoat, “whatever score you believe you have to settle with those folks would best be settled when emotions aren’t running quite so high.” As if to punctuate his statement, Raven’s Cliff’s official representative of the law stepped in front of the door.
Chief Swanson had no idea of the score, as he called it, Nicholas had to settle. “Unless you’re going to arrest me,” he said bluntly, “step aside and allow me to do what I must.”
“You can’t go out there,” Camille urged. “They’ve been through a lot, Nicholas,” she added gently, “we all have. Let them get used to the idea that you’re alive before jumping into a confrontation.”
Her tawny curls were still damp. Strands clung to her soft, pale cheeks. It would be easy to take her advice, but he’d taken the easy way out for far too long as it was. It was past time to do this right.
“Keep her in here,” he said to the chief. “I don’t think her parents would be too happy if you allowed her to get caught up in this.”
Nicholas pushed past the chief and walked out the door before further arguments could be raised. He knew what he had to do, and there was no putting it off. The truth was out now. As Camille said, the people of Raven’s Cliff had been through tremendous challenges.
He wasn’t going to drag this one out any longer than necessary. Careful to keep his right profile turned to the crowd, he moved a fair distance from the dim glow sifting through the rotting drapes of the cottage windows.
