Rock-A-Bye Rescue. Karen Whiddon
over the handcuffs to bring his arms in front of him and quickly snatched the keys from the marshal’s belt. With key in hand, Kent turned and sent Wayne a hard look. “You know what has to be done.”
Energized with a new mission and fresh resolve, Wayne gave a terse nod. “I do, Master Pitts.”
* * *
Miriam and a sheriff’s deputy arrived at Lila’s twenty minutes later with Eve. They brought a small supply of baby clothes, Eve’s blanket, favorite toys and a few jars of baby food.
Miriam wrote both her number and the contact number for FBI Special Agent Dunn on a notepad as a precaution. “But you shouldn’t need either,” Miriam reassured her with a smile. “The cult members are in custody, and it’s only a matter of time before Eve’s grandparents are located. We should have her resettled in a day or two.”
After signing some legal documents and getting the usual procedural instructions from Miriam, Lila was left alone with her foster baby to get acquainted and settle in. Eve was understandably fussy. The events of the morning had to have been frightening and confusing to the little girl. Eve had lost her mother, had been bustled from one strange environment to another, and had been roused from her morning nap when they’d arrived at Lila’s cabin.
Eve released a mournful wail, and Lila lifted her from the baby carrier. Cuddling the infant on her shoulder, she paced the cabin, rubbing Eve’s back and cooing to her. According to Miriam, the baby wasn’t due for another feeding for almost two hours. Sleep was the priority, so Lila walked the floor, sang lullabies and murmured sweet nothings to calm the cranky baby.
Chloe, who’d hidden while the social worker and cop were delivering Eve, crept out from the back of the house and cast a wary eye to the noisy little creature that had invaded her house. She sniffed the baby’s things and sent Lila a disdainful glare.
“It’s just for a little while, Chloe. We’ve had babies here before. You know the routine. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
With a loud meow, Chloe traipsed over to the door to her screened porch and stared at the door handle.
Lila chuckled. “It’s thirty-three degrees and dropping, Chloe. Trust me. You don’t want to go out there.”
Chloe meowed again, more emphatically, and Eve raised her head from Lila’s shoulder to glance at the cat. Her cries calmed a bit as she studied the feline with a curious wrinkle on her button nose.
“You like that kitty? Her name’s Chloe. Nice kitty.”
Eve gave a loud squawk and waved a chubby hand toward the cat. Chloe merely regarded the baby balefully then trotted down the hall, presumably to hide again. With the cat out of sight, Eve’s whines tuned up again, and Lila resumed her pacing and back patting. “I know, sweet girl. You miss your mommy.”
Lila shuddered as the news story replayed in her mind. A teenage girl, a young mother murdered by her kidnapper. Horrible!
Finally, Eve settled down when Lila rocked her in the nursery glider, and the infant drifted off to a restless sleep. Lila transferred the baby to the crib, turned on the nursery monitor and tiptoed out of the room.
“Me-row!” Chloe chirped from the hall.
“Shh!” Lila pressed a finger to her lips and lifted her cat in her arms as she headed to the kitchen, whispering, “Don’t you dare wake Eve up!”
After setting Chloe on the couch with a last head scratch, Lila contemplated her painting. She ought to squeeze in a little more work on the landscape before Eve woke up. Or perhaps she should fix her own lunch, she thought when her stomach growled. She needed to get back in the routine of attending to her own needs while her foster baby was asleep or safely occupied with toys.
She opened her refrigerator and took out a cup of yogurt and a container of leftover Chinese takeout. Giving the sweet-and-sour chicken a sniff, she decided it had become more sour than sweet, and she carried it to the kitchen sink. After dumping the spoiled Chinese food down the garbage disposal, she peeled the top off the yogurt and started eating it as she crept back to the nursery door to peek at Eve again.
The little girl had stolen her heart at first glimpse. With round rosy cheeks, large dark eyes and a dusting of brown curls, Eve was a living doll. Her heart-shaped lips were parted as she slept, and she snuffled slightly with a stuffy nose. Angelic. Eve slept with her rump in the air and her blankie squeezed tight in her hand.
Lila’s chest ached again, thinking of the tragedy that had befallen Eve’s young mother. Such a precious baby, born from such a terrible crime. After finishing her yogurt, Lila didn’t linger any longer, though she could have spent hours staring at the girl’s sweet face.
As she returned to the kitchen to throw away her trash, a movement outside her window caught Lila’s attention. Stepping closer to the sink to peer outside, Lila scanned her yard. Ice had quickly built up in the trees and ice-burdened branches hung low. In the past several minutes, the sleet and freezing rain had become mixed with snow, and a thin accumulation had dusted every surface.
The swirling snow amid the zinging ice pellets created a peaceful scene. She saw nothing unusual outside except for the fluttering flakes and thickening layers of ice. Maybe what she’d seen had been a falling branch. A woodland animal?
Maybe she’d imagined—
Lila’s breath snagged in midthought as a large man, clad in a dark coat, jeans and a knit hat, emerged from behind her shed...carrying an ax.
Jamming her feet in boots, Lila grabbed her father’s hunting shotgun from over the fireplace and rushed outside. “Hey!”
The man in the dark coat jerked his head around.
She raised the shotgun and aimed at him. In an angry voice, she shouted, “You’ll be putting that ax down now, then getting the hell off my property.”
The man didn’t move, only stared at her with dark eyes. He sported a couple of days’ growth of facial hair, and though the beard was trimmed and neat, the look still gave him a rugged edge. When he only glared at her for long seconds, her pulse picked up an increasingly ragged cadence.
Rather than backing down, the man seemed to grow larger, his body bowing up as he slowly squared his shoulders and moved into a defensive position.
“Put the gun down.” His voice grated like steel on flint.
Lila tightened her grip, and a chill rippled through her. He still clutched the ax with one hand, and his free hand balled and flexed aggressively.
She’d thought the shotgun would be enough to scare off a casual thief. She forced enough spit into her dry mouth to swallow. “I said put the ax down and get the hell off—”
“Lila?” His voice was still deep and gruff, but now full of intrigue.
A prickle chased down her spine. He knew her name? “Wh-who are you?”
He took a couple steps closer, the ice and crust of snow crunching under his boots. “Is that you, Lila?”
She re-aimed the shotgun even as she stepped back from him. “Who are you? What do you want?”
He angled his head toward her and narrowed his eyes even more. “You put that shotgun away, and we’ll talk. Otherwise, I’ll have to take it from you the hard way.”
Something in his stance, his size and the lethal look in his eyes told her he could easily get the shotgun from her if he wanted. Assuming she couldn’t get a shot off first. Her father had taken her hunting, taught her to shoot. But it had been years since she’d fired a weapon, and she wasn’t sure she had the nerve to shoot a man if she had to. Mistake number one. She could hear her father telling her, “Never pick up a weapon you don’t have the skill and will to use.”
A