Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby. BEVERLY BARTON
Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby
a man she’d known for such a brief time.
A heavyset guy in the truck ahead of the Lexus in front of her got out and walked down the street, in the direction of the wreck. It never ceased to amaze her how curious people were about disasters, as if some weird inner force drew them to blood and gore.
She checked her watch. Less than five minutes had passed since she’d stopped. It seemed more like thirty. If there was one thing she hated, it was wasting time. Surely it wouldn’t take that much longer before the police would get the traffic moving again, even if only in one lane.
A tow truck went by about the same time the man who’d gone to take a look at the scene came walking back up the street. Several people in other vehicles either got out to talk to him or rolled down their windows to ask him questions. A small crowd gathered in the middle of the road. Leenie rolled down her window, intending to holler and ask if the guy thought they’d be stuck here much longer, then she heard him say something that made her blood run cold.
“They were putting a gray-haired woman in the ambulance,” he said. “It looked bad. Somebody had T-boned her Saturn on the driver’s side and crushed it in.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t make out much, but there was a baby’s car seat in back.”
Leenie flung open the door, jumped out and ran, leaving the door open, her keys in the ignition and her purse lying on the seat. As she raced past the small crowd, they turned to stare at her, and one person even called out to her. She ignored everyone and everything. By the time she reached the scene of the accident, her breath was labored and her lungs ached. Fear consumed her. When she saw Debra’s blue Saturn, she stopped dead still. While she stood there trembling, gasping for air, the ambulance drove past her. She reached out as if she could grab it and stop it.
Andrew! Debra! Her mind screamed their names.
A policeman approached her. “Ma’am, you need to move out of the way.”
“Please, I have to—you don’t understand.”
“Ma’am are you all right?”
“Andrew and Debra. How badly were they hurt?”
“Do you know Mrs. Schmale?” he asked.
Numbness set in. Leenie nodded. “She’s my nanny.”
“Then you’re Dr. Patton?”
“Yes, I’m Lurleen Patton.”
The uniformed officer put his arm around Leenie’s shoulders and led her out of the street and onto the sidewalk. Without protest, as if in a trance, she went with him.
“Mrs. Schmale is on her way to the hospital,” he explained. “She has cuts, bruises, a broken arm and leg and possible internal bleeding. But she was conscious and able to tell us what happened.”
“And Andrew?” Leenie asked.
When she noted the peculiar look on the policeman’s face, her heart caught in her throat. Was Andrew dead? God, please, no. No! Surely he was all right. Debra always placed him in the regulation seat in the back of her car. And since it had been a driver’s side collision…
“Your son…Andrew…” The officer paused, swallowed as if wishing he didn’t have to deliver bad news, then said, “Mrs. Schmale told us that a white car came out of nowhere, crashed into her car and the driver jumped out and came to help her. Or so she thought. The driver—a woman—had Mrs. Schmale unlock the doors so she could get in on the other side. Before she realized what was happening, the woman got in the back seat and removed the baby from the car seat. Your nanny thought the woman was simply making sure Andrew was all right. But—”
Leenie swayed toward the officer, then grasped his shoulders and said, “Where is Andrew?”
“The woman took him, put him in her car and drove away,” the policeman explained.
“What?”
“We’ve got an all-points bulletin out for the car—an older model white Buick—and the woman—medium height, weight, short brown hair, sunglasses.”
The reality of the situation hit Leenie like a ton of bricks falling on her head. “Andrew was…was…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word, as if not voicing it aloud kept it from being a reality.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Patton, but your baby has been kidnapped.”
Chapter Two
Leenie couldn’t sit still. She felt as if a hundred-mile-an-hour freight train was surging through her. Nerves. Adrenaline. Fear beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Everyone kept telling her to go lie down, take a nap or just rest. Police Chief Ryan Bibb had suggested calling her doctor for a sedative. She knew the man meant well, but why couldn’t he—and all the other people who had congregated at her house—understand that she didn’t want her senses dulled, that she couldn’t sleep or rest. Her baby had been kidnapped. Stolen from her by only God knew what sort of person. She’d overheard the local police surmising about the general identity of Andrew’s abductor.
“She’s probably some woman who either lost a baby or has a fixation about having a child,” Chief Bibb had said. “And if that’s the case, she’ll take good care of Andrew.”
Leenie supposed that believing the kidnapper was taking good care of her baby should be some comfort. It wasn’t. Anyone capable of stealing a child had mental problems, whatever their reason.
“Why don’t you let me fix you some tea?” Haley Wilson said, as she put her arm around Leenie’s shoulder.
The plump brunette, who’d taken over as the manager of WJMM eleven months ago when Elsa Leone—now Elsa Devlin since she’d married—had moved to Knoxville, was a bubbly, energetic woman in her mid-forties and the mother of two teenage sons. From the minute Leenie and she met, they had bonded. Instant friendship. Haley had been the first person she’d called, the first person who’d come to mind when the police had asked her about a friend or family member to stay with her. Haley had dropped everything and rushed to Maysville Memorial, where Leenie had been waiting for Debra to come out of surgery. Haley stayed with her and they had prayed for Debra and for Andrew. Thankfully, Debra had come through the surgery to stop her internal bleeding with flying colors.
“Mrs. Schmale will be in intensive care for the next twenty-four hours,” Dr. Brenner had explained. “But I expect a full and speedy recovery.”
Knowing that Debra would be all right gave Leenie a great sense of relief. She loved Debra dearly, as a friend and mother figure. The police had said that Debra’s ability to accurately describe the kidnapper and the car she’d been driving would be of immeasurable help in locating Andrew.
“Leenie.” Haley shook her gently. “Come on in the kitchen with me. You can sit down long enough for me to fix you some tea.”
“I don’t want anything to drink.”
“Come in the kitchen with me anyway,” Haley said. “I’m going to prepare fresh coffee for those FBI people who just arrived and since it’s nearly morning, maybe I should offer to make breakfast, too. Why don’t you help me?”
Leenie stared at Haley, understanding what she’d said, but not comprehending.
Haley hugged her. “You can’t keep pacing the floor and you can’t keep going into Andrew’s room every ten minutes. You need something to do.”
“You’re right. Staring at Andrew’s crib in the nursery won’t make him miraculously appear.” Emotion lodged in Leenie’s throat. Don’t cry, she told herself. Crying isn’t going to help. You have to stay strong and in control.
“They’ll find him and bring him home to you.” Haley hugged her again, then grasped her hand and tugged. “Come on. Let’s make us some tea first, then put on fresh coffee for the others. After that I’ll take breakfast orders. And I expect you to eat. Even if it’s just a few bites.”