Somebody's Baby

“Because I also saw Karen Smith.”

“You what?”

At last she seemed to have gotten his attention. Nina let out a relieved breath. She’d gone about this all wrong. She should have told him about Karen Smith first, but her baby had been uppermost in her mind. No wonder Sergeant Farrell couldn’t make sense of her babbling.

“Let me start at the beginning,” she said.

“I think that might be a good idea.”

Nina quickly told him everything that had happened in the park, except the nanny’s accusation that Nina had refused to give the baby back to her. Nina’s actions had hardly been those of a rational woman, and she desperately needed Sergeant Farrell to believe her. More than anything, she needed him to believe her.

“I couldn’t keep up with the car,” she finished. “But I did manage to get the license-plate number.” She rattled off the number, then said, “You can trace the vehicle, right?”

Again Farrell hesitated. “Nina, are you sure about all this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I couldn’t be mistaken about something like this. My baby’s life is at stake.” Nina felt a wave of hysteria rising inside her, but with sheer force of will, pushed it back down.

“You said the woman in the BMW was blond. Karen Smith had dark hair. At least that’s what you’ve always maintained.”

“She could have dyed her hair or worn a wig. It makes sense she would have disguised herself. She was planning all along to steal my baby.”

“That part does make sense,” he conceded with a sigh. “But it’s still a little hard to swallow that you saw Karen Smith in the same park where you first met her. If she took Dustin, why would she go back there, knowing she might eventually run into you?”

“The nanny said they didn’t usually go to that park, but the baby’s mother—she called her Mrs. Baldwin—had an appointment near there. That makes sense, too, when you think about it. After all this time, Karen probably thought she was home free. It was a one-in-a-million chance that I saw her at all today.”

“You say her name is Baldwin?” Farrell seemed preoccupied, as if he were jotting notes to himself.

“Yes, and the man’s name is Chambers, but I don’t know what his relationship is to Dustin.” Was he a conspirator in her baby’s abduction? Nina shivered, remembering the man’s eyes, the menacing way he’d stared down at her. “You do believe me, don’t you? You are going to follow up on this, aren’t you?”

“I’ll check it out,” Farrell agreed noncommittally. “As soon as we find out who the car belongs to, we can decide where to go from there.”

“How long will that be?”

“I’ll run it through the computer as soon as we hang up. But look. You said it yourself. It’s a million-to-one shot that you and Karen Smith came face-to-face in that same park.”

“Meaning?”

He paused. “Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

* * *

Nina was waiting at her desk when Sergeant Farrell called back a little later. She grabbed up the phone on the first ring.

“Did you find her?”

“I ran the plate number,” Farrell said. “The car is registered to a Mrs. Vanessa Baldwin. It’s a Houston address. River Oaks,” he added, naming Houston’s most prestigious—and expensive—neighborhood.

A flood of memories washed over Nina. Garrett’s family lived in a San Antonio neighborhood very much like River Oaks. The tree-shrouded streets and ivy-covered mansions had always seemed oppressive to Nina. She hated to think of her baby in such an atmosphere.

“What else did you find out?” she asked.

“Her husband, Clayton Baldwin, is vice president at Chambers Petroleum, which is owned by her father, a man named J. D. Chambers. Any of these names ring a bell?”

Nina frowned. “No. Should they?”

“From what I could gather, the Chambers family is pretty well connected in the petroleum industry, as well as in the River Oaks social circles. Thought you might have seen their names in the paper.”

Nina took a deep breath, trying to quiet her racing heart. Something about Sergeant Farrell’s tone worried her. “So what do we do next? When can we go confront Vanessa Baldwin? When can I get my baby back?”

“It’s not quite as simple as that. We’re not talking about any Tom, Dick or Harry here. These people have clout.”

“So what are you saying?” Nina demanded. “Because they’re rich and powerful, the law can’t touch them?”

“I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying we have to proceed with caution. I’m saying you could be mistaken.”

“I’m not.” Nina could feel her anger building. Why wasn’t he listening to her? Why wasn’t he trying to help her?

Why did the rich and powerful have all the advantages?

She gripped the telephone in her fist. “I know what I saw.”

“Or is it what you think you saw? What you wanted to see? I’m looking at a picture of Vanessa Baldwin right now, and I have to tell you, Nina, she doesn’t look a thing like the sketch the artist drew of Karen Smith from your description. The hair, the mouth. Even the shape of the face. Everything is different.”

“Because she was wearing a disguise!” Nina exploded. “You’re a detective, for God’s sake. You must have seen this thing before. Look at the eyes. They’re a dead giveaway.”

After a slight hesitation, Farrell said, “Even if there is some resemblance, we still have one major problem. Why would a woman of Vanessa Baldwin’s stature risk stealing a child? She’s from a high-profile family. It would be next to impossible to pass someone else’s baby off as hers.”

Nina gritted her teeth. “I don’t know how she pulled it off, but it’s your job to find out. She has my baby, and I want to know what you’re going to do about getting him back.”

His voice was quiet when he spoke, as if her outburst hadn’t registered. “Do you read the paper, Nina? The Houston Herald?”

She frowned at the change of subject. “Sometimes. Why?”

“Did you read it today?”

She’d glanced through it that morning while having her coffee. “I scanned it.”

“There was a picture of Vanessa Baldwin in the society section this morning. You don’t remember seeing it?”

“No, I don’t,” Nina said angrily. “And what’s more, I resent all these questions. Shouldn’t you be questioning her?”

“Isn’t it possible you saw Vanessa Baldwin’s picture without even being aware of it, and that’s why you recognized her in the park? You’d just been holding her baby. You said yourself you felt some sort of connection with him. Then you see this woman, the baby’s mother, who looks familiar to you, and you think she’s Karen Smith. You want her to be Karen Smith.”

Nina’s heart thudded against her rib cage. How could he not believe her? What was she going to do?

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he explained. “You go to that park every day hoping to find your baby, hoping to see Karen Smith, even though you’ve always known in your heart the odds were next to impossible.”

“But not entirely impossible,” Nina insisted. “Because I did see her.”