Her Baby's Father Read online

  * * *

  WITH THE INTERVIEWS FINISHED, Detective Montgomery gathered up his notes. He and Officer Robards left the Morgan Enterprises building.

  Montgomery looked around the area. “Let’s take a look at the back.”

  He and the officer circled the building, stopping under the balcony at Bill Morgan’s office.

  Montgomery pointed to some indentations in the grass beyond the decorative rocks. “Almost certainly someone came down this way, then took off across the grass.”

  “Who?”

  “If I had to bet money on it, I’d say it was Carter and Jack Morgan. Something’s going on with them that we don’t know about. They’re trying to act innocent, but it’s not quite working.”

  “Jack Morgan broke into his own family’s office building? Looking for what?”

  Montgomery shrugged. “What I’m thinking now is that he and Sara Carter came here. Somebody else came in and started shooting at them.” He paused for a minute and looked up toward the balcony. “Remember, the only thing taken was a tablecloth. Suppose they used it to climb down.”

  “With his bad leg?”

  “If they were desperate to keep from being shot.” He turned toward Robards. “What did you think about the interviews?”

  “Like you said. That Carter and Jack Morgan are hiding something. Also Ted Morgan.” He laughed. “Also their old man.”

  “Agreed. I’d say Carter and Jack Morgan are into something together. Ted’s got some other agenda. And the father?” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s just worried about something getting stolen in the break-in. I’d like to keep tabs on the first three. You think the robbery in Ellicott City was real?” Montgomery asked.

  “Yeah. They were both pretty shaken up. After that, I don’t know. Too bad we don’t have the manpower to follow them, plus the other brother.”

  Montgomery nodded. “If you had to pick one of them, which one would it be?”

  “Sara Carter.”

  “Why?”

  “She seems like the one who knows more than she’s telling.”

  “Agreed. I’d like to put a tail on her, but I have to get authorization.”

  * * *

  SARA AND JACK CLIMBED OUT of the car, and she headed for the door.

  “Let me go in first,” he said, as he had the last time they’d been there.

  She handed him the key, and he unlocked the door, then cautiously opened it and stepped inside.

  Unwilling to let him take all the risk, she followed him in, sniffing the air.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It smells the way it should.”

  He laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “One time, somebody broke in, and I smelled it right away.”

  “What was different?”

  “I can’t name it exactly. It was just wrong.”

  He made a dismissive sound as he flipped the switches by the door, turning on all the lights.

  “Too bad there are so many places to hide,” he said, as he began looking down the rows of shelves where she kept her props.

  She helped him search. When he was satisfied, she tried to turn on her phone, but the battery had run down.

  Switching to her computer, she checked her email and found a message from Pam Reynolds.

  Quickly she scanned the text:

  Sara, I’m showing that house where we met the Morgan brothers the other day. The one that I showed to Ted Morgan. But the elephant lamp in the front hall is broken. I need a replacement right away. I mean it doesn’t have to be an elephant, but I need a lamp there. Soonest.

  Jack had come to stand behind her.

  “A problem?” he asked.

  “At that house where I met you the other day—one of my lamps is broken. Pam Reynolds wants me to bring a new one over right away.”

  “I thought Ted was buying it.”

  “I guess he hasn’t made an offer yet.”

  “I’ll drive you over.”

  “It’s only going to take a few minutes to drop off another lamp. Why don’t you go back to Morgan Enterprises and see if you can talk to your father?”

  “I don’t like leaving you on your own.”

  “It’s not for very long. I’ll meet you back at your house.” She stopped and gave him an exasperated look. “I locked the door when I left, and I can’t get back in.”

  “There’s a key under the flower pot at the side of the porch.”

  “Okay. And after I use it, we’re taking it away. I mean, maybe that’s how the guy got in to plant the bugs.”

  His expression darkened. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “We’ll meet there as soon as we’re both finished.”

  “Yes. And since we’re saying what we don’t like, I don’t like you going off without your phone charged.”

  “I’ve got a charger in my car. I can use it while it’s plugged in there.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “Let me get a substitute lamp.” She searched through her stock and found one in the shape of a lion.

  Jack walked to the car with her, and they hugged.

  “Take care of yourself,” she said.

  “You, too.”

  She wanted to stay with him, but she forced herself to leave. As she headed toward the house where they’d first met, she thought again about the past few days.

  She’d assumed she had a handle on what was going to happen, but the more time passed, the less she knew. It had taken only a few hours for things to start deviating from her memories. And maybe that was partly her fault because she’d suggested a different restaurant for their first dinner. The only thing she was absolutely sure of was that someone was closing in on Jack. And if he was going to survive, she had to change his fate.

  She was so deep in thought that she missed the turnoff to the house she’d called Tara in Howard County and had to make a U-turn.

  With a shake of her head, she doubled back. When she pulled up in front of the large white mansion, she expected to see Pam’s car, but it wasn’t in the driveway or over at the parking pad in front of the three-car garage.

  From the car, she tried to call Pam but only got voice mail that said, “Pam Reynolds is not available. Leave a message at the sound of the tone.”

  “Pam, this is Sara. I’m at the house. Are you on your way?” she asked.

  She sat in the car for a few minutes, but she was anxious to get in, exchange the lamp and get back to Jack.

  Deciding she might as well try the door, she retrieved the new lamp from the floor of the backseat and climbed the steps to the house. When she tried the doorknob, it turned easily.

  “Anybody home?” she called out. “Pam, are you here?”

  Nobody answered, and she had half a mind to back out. But that seemed stupid when she was already here. Taking a step inside, she saw the elephant lamp lying in the middle of the hall floor—smashed.

  It could have fallen. But Pam wouldn’t have left it there.

  The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. At that instant, she knew that she should back out and leave while she could still get away. But when she turned, she saw a figure coming toward her around the side of the house. A man wearing a ski mask and carrying a gun.

  If she tried to run, he’d shoot her. All she could do was dash into the house, slam the door and lock it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Was the back door locked?

  Probably, if the guy had been counting on herding her into the house.

  With only a split second to decide what to do, she dashed toward the stairs and sprinted up, disappearing around a bend in the hall into the master bedroom.

  Last night, she and Jack had gotten away by climbing down off the balcony. She could do something like that now. Climb out onto the top of the porch roof.

  Below her, she heard the sound of breaking glass and knew that the man had smashed one of the sidelights beside the door. He’d be inside soon. And if he caught her on the porch ro
of, she’d be a sitting duck.

  She was trapped.

  And there was nowhere to go but up.

  * * *

  JACK WAS ON HIS WAY to Morgan Enterprises when his cell phone rang. When he looked at the caller’s name, it said Pam Reynolds.

  He clicked it on and said, “Pam?”

  “Yes. I’m trying to get in touch with Sara. About a new job.”

  “Well, she got your email this morning about the house you were showing to my brother. She’s gone over there with the new lamp.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pam answered. “I didn’t send her an email.”

  His mind started spinning as he tried to process that information. Pam hadn’t sent that email asking Sara to take a replacement lamp to the vacant house. The killer had done it.

  She’d taken the bait, and Jack had let her go alone when he should have gone with her.

  With a sick feeling, he pulled to the side of the road and waited for a car to pass so that he could make a U-turn.

  “I’ll tell her you’re looking for her as soon as I find her,” he managed to say before hanging up.

  He found Sara’s cell number in his contact list and clicked on it, but all he got was her voice mail.

  As he drove toward the house where Sara had gone, he started praying, “Please, Lord, don’t let me be too late. Please, Lord, let me get there in time.”

  * * *

  SARA KNEW THE HOUSE WELL. The entrance to the attic was in this room. In the walk-in closet. Over by the storage shelves.

  She used them as a ladder, climbing to ceiling height, then pulled on the cord at the front of the folding stairs. It came down with a creaking noise that made her cringe. If the gunman down there didn’t hear it, he was deaf.

  She scrambled off of the shelves and onto the ladder. She had just made it to the top when she heard someone running in the hallway.

  Pulling the folding stairs up, she stood, panting, and looked around the attic. It was dark, with one small window at the far end giving her enough light to see what she was doing. The center of the large room had flooring. Under the eaves, there was only insulation between open joists.

  Whoever had cleared out the house to put it on the market hadn’t bothered to clean up the attic. The floored space was littered with old furniture and boxes. Maybe there was something up here that she could use as a weapon. And at least the clutter would provide a place to hide.

  Seeing all the junk gave her an idea. She started piling boxes onto the trapdoor until she heard footsteps below her and darted toward the other end of the space.

  She was on her way to the small window when the ladder creaked again. As she saw the trapdoor start to lower, she sprinted toward the window. She found a candlestick in a nearby box and bashed the glass, wrapping the tail of her shirt around her hand so that she could break off a good-sized piece from the ruined pane.

  If she could lure him close to her, maybe she’d have a chance to cut him.

  Clutching the glass, she ducked behind a chest of drawers.

  From below, the guy pulled the trapdoor all the way down. As he did, the boxes she’d piled there came tumbling onto his head.

  She had the satisfaction of hearing his loud curses as debris rained onto him.

  “You little witch, you think you’re so clever, but I’ll get you for that,” he growled.

  * * *

  JACK LEAPED OUT OF HIS CAR. He was trying to figure out where to find Sara when he heard the sound of breaking glass coming from above him. Looking up, he saw shards falling from the window at the gable end of the attic.

  She must be up there trying to escape from the killer. He wanted to call out to her and tell her he was here, but he understood that announcing his presence could be a fatal mistake.

  Quickly he tried to size up the situation.

  Her car was parked in front of the house. It looked like nobody else was here, but the killer must have hidden his car somewhere nearby.

  Whoever it was could still be downstairs in the house, looking for Sara. Or did he know she’d gone up to the second floor, then into the attic? Maybe he was already up there with her.

  The possibilities raced through Jack’s mind as he sprinted toward the house, then stopped short when he saw the broken window beside the door. The guy could be right in the hall, pointing a gun at Jack.

  Jack waited a beat then peered inside. Nobody was there, but the broken lamp Sara had come to replace was lying in the middle of the floor.

  As he stepped into the hall, he heard a loud voice curse, “You little witch, you think you’re so clever, but I’ll get you for that.”

  Definitely from upstairs. And Sara had done something to him.

  Jack took the first few steps two at a time, but when his leg threatened to give out, he forced himself to a more normal pace.

  When he reached the second floor, he stopped and listened for a clue to which way Sara and the killer had gone.

  The killer’s voice directed him again. It sounded like it was coming from the attic.

  “I know you’re up here. Come out and I’ll make this quick.”

  * * *

  SARA DIDN’T ANSWER, and she didn’t move from her hiding place behind the chest of drawers as she scrabbled through the boxes around her, looking for something else that she could use to defend herself.

  Probably she wasn’t going to save her life with the Christmas ornaments she’d just found. Her best bet was still the piece of glass that she’d laid beside her as she pawed through another box.

  She discovered it was full of old toys that would make great props for a children’s room, if she ever got to decorate another house.

  Below old metal trucks and a rag doll was a bag of marbles. As the attacker crept toward her, she opened the bag and threw the contents across the floorboards, the round glass balls bouncing and rolling toward the killer.

  In the dark he couldn’t see what they were. As his foot collided with one, he slipped and fell, cursing as he went down.

  But he was up in a minute, moving toward her again—and now she had given away her location.

  * * *

  IGNORING THE PAIN IN HIS LEG as he followed the sound of the killer’s voice, Jack ran into the master bedroom. The closet was open. Junk that looked like it had tumbled down from above was strewn across the floor, and a fold-up ladder was hanging down from the ceiling.

  The sound of cursing drifted down from above. Sara must have done something to keep the guy away from her.

  “Stay away from me. I’ve got a gun,” Sara called out.

  “I doubt it.”

  Jack’s heart leaped into his throat as he heard the exchange of words. Sara and the killer.

  If he tried to climb the ladder, the guy could shoot him before he reached the attic level.

  “Down here, you coward. I’ve got you trapped,” Jack shouted, praying that he could divert the killer’s attention from Sara.

  He hadn’t bargained for the killer’s next move. The man hurled himself down the stairs in a rush of motion, leaping on Jack and throwing him to the closet floor.

  The guy’s face was covered with a ski mask, but Jack saw a gun raised in his direction. Like last night.

  This time the attacker wasn’t quite steady on his feet. Ducking low as the gun fired, Jack knocked the guy off his feet. He grabbed for the weapon, hoping to wrest it from the man’s hand.

  Sara came scrambling down the ladder, a candlestick in her hand. But the man must have seen her coming and didn’t want to take a chance on fighting off two people. He gave Jack a mighty shove, dashing him to the floor as he wrenched away and leaped toward the closet door.

  Jack made a grab for him, but the guy yanked himself away. Moments later, he pounded down the stairs and across the first floor. Jack tried to heave himself up, but his leg went out from under him.

  Cursing, he fell back onto the closet floor.

  Sara staggered to the window and looked out
.

  “He’s cutting his losses,” she choked out, coming back to Jack and reaching for him.

  They held each other for long moments.

  “Are you all right?” they both asked, then answered in unison, “Yes.”

  “He lured me here,” Sara said, then raised questioning eyes to Jack. “How did you know?”

  “I lucked out. I was on my way to Morgan Enterprises when Pam called, trying to get in touch with you. I told her about the email, and she said she didn’t send it.”

  “It was the killer.” Sara made a moaning sound. “As soon as I saw the lamp on the floor, I knew I had to get out of here. But it was already too late to run.”

  “But you got away.”

  “For a while. I never should have come here alone.”

  “You had no reason to be suspicious. You thought you were meeting Pam. Both of us did, or I never would have left you alone.”

  “Yes.”

  They clung together.

  “Are we going to tell Montgomery?” Sara asked in a thin voice.

  Jack considered the question. “Do you want to?”

  “No. He’ll just twist it around and make it look like this was our fault.”

  “You’re probably right. Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  “Where?”

  “Back to my house.” He looked down and saw the gun, and she followed his gaze.

  “Do we want to leave it?” she asked.

  “It’s evidence.”

  “We’re taking a chance either way.”

  He sighed. “Windows are broken. Obviously something happened here. And the gun is part of it.”

  She nodded. “And neither one of us touched it. Unfortunately, I think he had on gloves.” Her mind was still turning over the problem. “Even so, Montgomery or some other detective will be interested.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “What do we tell Pam?”

  “That the window was broken, and you didn’t go in.”

  “Right.”

  They both exited the house and walked toward the vehicles. Sara stood, swaying on her feet. Jack steadied her, then gave her a critical look.

  “You shouldn’t be driving.”