Finding Her Son(44)

“I guess it was just too much to hope that we’d get an address for Joshua,” Emily sighed.

“Well, well, well.” Mitch looked at the circled words. Tattoo—not Ghost. Florida.

“Wait a minute,” Emily muttered. She ran from the table into the bedroom and came back with Perry’s box. She dug into it and pulled out a slip of paper. “Perry followed someone down to Florida.”

Mitch turned one of the sheets over. “Here’s something else. Florida. Airline. December. One year ago.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Is Joshua in Florida? Did Perry know where Joshua was and not tell me?” She rose from the table and started pacing. “I know he wasn’t perfect, but he knew what that information would mean to me.”

“Maybe that’s why he wanted to be sure.”

Mitch couldn’t believe he’d defended the less-than-stellar PI, but he understood the man’s desire to protect Emily from any more disappointments. Mitch scanned the next spattering of notes. “Cop. On the payroll. Without more, that’s no help.” He flipped the paper over. “Marie.”

Emily peered at the notes. “What? A cop named Marie?”

“Marie is a midwife. And, according to Perry, a murder witness.”

Emily pulled the phone from her pocket. “Do you think Marie is the woman who called?”

“There are no other names on this sheet of paper. And Perry’s death made the news.”

“She knew Perry.”

“And she’s probably helping deliver young girls’ babies,” Mitch said, his voice grim. “Perhaps she knows where Kayla is.”

“But what about Joshua?”

“I still don’t understand that connection. Joshua was taken well after he was born.”

Mitch’s pulse pounded, the adrenaline rush not much different than when he waited to bust through a door with a battering ram. Strange how a few pieces fitting into a puzzle could get him going. He nabbed his phone. “I’m calling Dad. He can probably use this information to speed up his search. Besides, I need more. I need to find a woman named Marie who’s a midwife in Colorado and how many baby boys were adopted in Florida in the last year.”

Emily tucked her legs underneath her as he made the call. He gripped her hand in his as he provided his father the latest information. Mitch already had a plan in mind. “I need a way to travel fast if something breaks,” he said into the phone.

Once he’d hung up, he framed Emily’s cheeks with his hands. “He’ll find her.”

Emily leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Do you think we’ll find Joshua?” she asked.

Mitch hugged her close. “We have a chance.”




THE MORNING SUN FILTERED through the shutters. Emily watched the light dancing on the walls as she rested her head against Mitch’s chest. She hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d asked her to work his leg, but he’d just been trying to distract her. He’d done more than that. She let her hand wander over his bare chest, memorizing the feel of him, the light dusting of hair on his chest. He was so strong, so confident about everything. He’d even become more accepting of his leg’s limitations.

Though a few well-placed caresses had helped that along.

She padded across the room and slipped into the clothes she’d borrowed. The phone was heavy in her hip pocket. No one had called either one of them since Mitch had spoken to his father.

Why didn’t Marie call back?

After a quick stretch to work out the kinks, she made a cup of tea in the hardly used gourmet kitchen and settled into the corner of an overstuffed sofa in the living room. The dancing lights over the unusual view of Mitch’s brother’s interior jungle pool soothed her like a fine massage. She felt safe here. There were cameras, motion detectors, a sophisticated alarm system tied directly to the cops.

Emily just had to be careful not to activate it.

A slight clicking of the side door’s lock made her tense. It opened slowly. Emily didn’t hesitate. She opened her bag and pulled out the gun he’d given her from Noah’s collection.

A bearded man in straggly clothes stumbled through the door.

Emily raised the weapon. “Don’t move or you’re dead.”

The bum approached her, a duffel on his back. His head tilted to one side as if he were trying to figure her out. Great, just great.

“Mitch!”

“You don’t belong here,” the deep voice muttered from behind the beard. He walked forward two paces.

Her finger tightened on the trigger. “Stop. Or I shoot.”

He stilled.

Emily felt warm breath on her cheek.

“Mitch,” she whispered.

“Nice girlfriend, little brother. Knows you just by feel. Since you’re naked as a jaybird, I guess you two are together.”

“Give me the gun, honey. I know you want to shoot him, but the flea-ridden carcass is Noah. Denver’s most eligible bachelor, geek first-class, filthy rich and the world’s most annoying older brother.”

Mitch slipped his palm over the weapon, and she released the gun to him. He disappeared from behind her, hopefully to put some pants over that fabulous body of his, though she couldn’t resist sneaking a peak at his very appealing backside as he walked away.