Their Baby Girl...?: The Baby Mission / Her Baby Secret

He leaned over the desk. A strand of her hair hung in her face, and he tucked it behind her ear. In typical obstinate behavior, she shook her head, causing it to come loose again. He wondered why he found that so damn attractive. He shouldn’t.

“You’re eight months along and the doctor gave you a clean bill of health. I don’t think you have to worry about miscarrying. Just about how to make the spineless wonder pay his fair share.”

Warrick was definitely too close—and making odd things happen inside her. C.J. pushed herself away from the desk—and her partner. “Warrick, I know that in your own twisted little way, you care about me. But get this through that thick head of yours. I don’t want anything from Tom Thorndyke. As far as I am concerned, this is my baby and only my baby.”

He crossed his arms before his chest. “Another case of the immaculate conception?”

Her temper was dangerously close to going over to the dark side. “Byron—”

He winced at the sound of his first name. One of these days, when he got a chance to get around to it, he was going to have it legally changed. Lord Byron had been his mother’s favorite poet while she was carrying him, but there was no reason that he had to suffer because of that.

“Okay, I’ll back off.”

“Thank you.”

He started to head for the door. “Want me to bring you back anything?”

She glanced at the folder on her desk. “Just the Sleeping Beauty Killer’s head on a platter.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Afraid that’s not the special of the day.” Warrick paused for a moment longer, looking at her. There was affection in his eyes, as well as concern. “Take some personal time.”

She just waved him off, then watched appreciatively as he walked away. The man had one hell of a tight butt.

“Damn hormones,” she muttered to herself as she began to pore over the folder he had given her.

Her hands braced on the arms of her office chair, C.J. pushed herself up to her feet. It was late, but she wasn’t finished yet. Time for her hourly sojourn to the bathroom.

She hated this lumbering girth that had become hers. In top condition since the age of ten when she’d picked up her first free weight to brain her older brother, Brian—an occurrence her father had prevented at the last moment—C.J. hated physical restrictions of any kind. The last two months of her pregnancy had forced her to assume a lifestyle she disliked intensely.

The only thing that made it bearable was knowing that she was doing it for her baby’s good. But it was rough being noble, especially as she watched War rick team up with other people, handling cases she wanted to be handling. She’d never been one to sit on the sidelines and it was killing her.

“Ah, I see you’re ready to go.”

Turning around, C.J. saw Diane Jones coming toward her. She didn’t remember making any arrangements to meet her mother at the office. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your mother?” Diane pressed a quick kiss to her daughter’s temple. “Ethan had a deposition to take not far from here. He dropped me off.” She tapped her wristwatch. “Chris, your Lamaze class starts in half an hour. At this time of day, it might take us that long to get there. Let’s go.”

She’d only gotten halfway through the details in the reports. Besides, she wasn’t in the mood to stretch and lie on the floor. Class wasn’t as much fun now that Sherry and Joanna were gone, each having given birth.

“I was thinking of not going,” she told her mother.

Protests had never gotten in Diane’s way. She hooked her arm through her daughter’s, tugging her in the direction of the door.

“Fine. And you can continue thinking about it on the way there.” She used her “mom” voice, the one that had allowed her to govern four energetic boys and a daughter whose energy level went off the charts. “Let’s go, Chris. Don’t make me get Warrick in here to convince you.”

Funny how much a part of her family her partner had become. “He’s out in the field.”

Diane picked up on her daughter’s tone. “You’ll be out there, giving me heart failure, soon enough.” She gave C.J.’s arm another tug. “Now let’s go.”

Resigned, C.J., sighed and got her purse from the bottom desk drawer. “Yes, Mother.”

Diane nodded, pleased at the capitulation. “Well, it could be a little more cheerful, but I’ll take what I can get.”

So saying, she gently pushed her daughter out the door.

“We have to stop at the bathroom,” C.J. told her.

Diane’s smile didn’t fade. “I never doubted it for a minute.”

Chapter 2

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Lamaze instructor Lori O’Neill whispered to C.J. as the class began breaking up.

Handing her pillow to her mother, C.J. looked at the perky, rather pregnant blond instructor. The session had run a little long tonight. All C.J. wanted to do was drop her mother off at her house and go home herself.

She’d been preoccupied throughout the entire session, her mind constantly reverting to some stray piece of information about one or another of the Sleeping Beauty Killer’s victims. Twice her mother’d had to tap her on her shoulder to get her to pay attention to what was going on in class.

This was a far cry from the way the classes normally used to go, Lori thought. It wasn’t all that long ago that she, Lori, Sherry Campbell and Joanna Prescott would go out together after class to a local, old-fashioned ice cream parlor where they would indulge their insatiable craving for sweets. But Sherry and Joanna were no longer part of the class, or the inner clique Lori had pulled together and whimsically dubbed the Mom Squad. Sherry and Joanna had each given birth and with new men in their lives as well, were on their way to no longer being single mothers.

C.J. shook her head. “I don’t think—”

On a mission of mercy, Lori was not about to take no for an answer. “You’ve been looking a little down these last two sessions, so I called up Sherry and Joanna and invited them out for the evening. They’re waiting for us at the ice cream parlor.”

She really didn’t need the extra calories. Even so, C.J. could feel her taste buds getting into gear. Still, she felt she needed to review the personal notes she’d kept at home dealing with the serial killer’s various victims. There just had to be something she was missing.

C.J. grasped at a plausible excuse. “But I’ve got to drop off my mother—”

The excuse died quickly. “Not another word about it,” Diane protested. She was already digging her cell phone out of her purse. “I’ll just call your father and he can come to pick me up.” Her blue eyes sparkled lustily as she grinned at her only daughter. “Did I ever tell you about the first time he picked me up?” She sighed dramatically. “Your father was the handsomest thing on two legs, and I would have followed him to the ends of the earth.” She winked at Lori. “Luckily, I didn’t have to. His apartment was right around the corner.”

C.J. had grown up hearing the story in its various forms, originally amended because of her age, then updated on every occasion. In its time, it had made a wonderful bedtime story, but not tonight. She cut her mother off before she could get rolling. “You don’t mind calling him?”

Diane pressed a single number on the cell’s keypad. “Not in the slightest.” Her eyes took on a glow as a male voice echoed in her ear. “James? Chris can’t drop me off, would you mind coming to get me?” Catching her daughter’s eye, she shook her head tolerantly. “No, she’s not going out in the field.” Diane covered the cell phone with a well-manicured hand. “He worries about his little girl,” she confided to Lori.

C.J. rolled her eyes. “I’m probably the only FBI agent who has to look over her shoulder to make sure her father isn’t trailing after her.” Her father would have been a great deal happier with her if she’d put her law degree to use and followed him into the firm, as her three older brothers had. Even Jamie, the youngest, was studying law. She was the only maverick in the family—and she liked it that way.

Lori laughed, slipping an arm around C.J.’s shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice having a family care about you. I’d give anything to have my dad trailing after me.” Both of her parents were gone now. The only family Lori had left was her late husband’s older brother.

Diane flipped her phone shut. “There, all settled.” She tucked the cell phone into her purse. “Your father’ll be here in fifteen minutes.” She shooed the women off. “Go, have an ice cream for me.” She looked down at a figure that was still trim by anyone’s standards except her own and sighed. “Anything I eat goes right to my hips. No passing go, no collecting two hundred dollars, just directly to my hips.”

Lori gave C.J. a quizzical look. C.J. was quick to provide an explanation. “Mom’s a Monopoly enthusiast.”

Diane leaned in and confided to Lori. “She’d say ‘freak’ if I wasn’t here.” The look she gave her daughter spoke volumes. “We all have our little obsessions.”

Her mind on other things, C.J. couldn’t help thinking about the Sleeping Beauty Killer and the women he had singled out to eliminate. “Yes,” she agreed quietly, “we do.”

The ice cream parlor, with its quaint booths and small tables, looked as if it belonged to another era, nestled in another century. C.J. felt completely at ease here. There was something soothing about the decor. It spoke of innocence and simplicity, something she found herself longing for.

By the time she and Lori arrived, Sherry and Joanna, both now enviably slim, were already seated at a booth. Sherry waved to them the moment they walked in.