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

There was something in her voice that made the hair on the back of his neck rise up. He swung around to look at her. C.J. was still sitting at her desk, but there was an odd expression on her face.

“What?”

Oh, God. Her words came out measured. “How close would you say we were?”

That was a hell of an odd question for one partner to ask another. “Pretty close, I guess.” He looked at her more intently. “Why?”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth a second before answering. “I think we’re about to get a lot closer.”

Like a man feeling his way along a tightrope, Warrick slowly made his way back into the room, staring at C.J. as he came. “What are you talking about?”

Very deliberately C.J. closed the folder on her desk. The pain shot through her again. She fisted her hands against it, but it didn’t help. Her knuckles felt as if they were going to break through her skin.

It matched the sensation going on in other parts of her.

She looked up at him, telling herself not to panic. “I’m in labor.”

Warrick’s eyes widened in disbelief. C.J. was given to practical jokes. This had to be one of them, although it went beyond the pale as far as he was concerned. “The hell you’re not.”

She caught her breath, trying to keep her voice steady. From everything she’d been able to pull out of Joanna and Sherry, this was definitely the real thing. Her skirt was damp and that could only mean one thing. Her water had broken.

“The hell I am.”

Chapter 3

“This isn’t funny, Jones,” Warrick snapped as a wave of uneasiness all but drowned him. He couldn’t remember any incident in his career, recent or otherwise, that had ever had him feeling this unprepared.

The pain found her and began twisting her in two. C.J. tried to fill her lungs with air, but even that hurt. “I don’t think any stand-up comic ever gave birth for laughs.”

He didn’t like the edgy note in her voice. The hope that this was just a bad joke on her part faded. “You’re serious.”

She pressed her lips together as she looked at him. She felt fear taking a strong toehold. Don’t panic, don’t panic. “Deadly.”

“You’re really in labor.” Somehow, maybe because he didn’t want it to, the thought just refused to penetrate his mind.

She nodded her head. Damn, this was really beginning to hurt. “Like a prisoner at Devil’s Island.”

Why was she still just sitting there, gripping both armrests as if she expected the chair to somehow launch her? “Well, damn it, what are you waiting for?” He put his hand on her arm. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t budge. She was afraid to. Afraid to even move. C.J. raised her eyes to his. “That’s just the problem, Warrick, all systems are go.”

Then why wasn’t she getting up? This wasn’t making any sense. Maybe it was a practical joke after all. He’d seen her deadpan her way through more than one joke before. He gave her arm another tug, surprised at how tightly she continued clinging to the armrests.

“Quit fooling around, C.J. The faster we get you to a hospital, the better.”

Biting down on her lower lip, C.J. pushed herself upright and immediately sank down in the chair again. Her legs had buckled, giving way beneath her. She couldn’t walk, couldn’t move.

She looked up at Warrick. “New plan.”

Impatience waltzed with nerves. “What?”

She shook her head, shrugging his hand off her arm. “We need a new plan. I can’t walk.”

This was bad, he thought, becoming really concerned. C.J. just wasn’t the frail, damsel-in-distress type. She’d been shot once and had almost snapped off his head when he’d tried to help her up off the ground.

His mind scrambled to make sense of this new input. “Okay, okay, I’ll carry you—”

“No!” With a sweeping motion, C.J. batted away his hands and then grabbed onto the arms of the chair again. It was either that or rip his arms out of their sockets. The pain was back and it had brought friends. “You don’t understand. It’s too late for that.”

Did labor enfeeble a woman’s brain? She was talking nonsense. “Too late for carrying?”

Breathing and talking at the same time suddenly became a challenge. “Too late…for…anything. I’m having this…bay-BEE.”

The sudden crescendo echoed in his head, hurting his ears. “Yes, I know—”

Her efforts to the contrary, panic was definitely taking hold. C.J. looked at him. Did she have to explain everything?

“Now, Warrick…I’m having…it now.”

He stared at her, numb. “What do you mean ‘now’?” She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she was saying. “As in this minute?”

The wave of pain ebbed back a few inches, letting her catch her breath. Perspiration was beginning to drench her. “I knew…if…you…sounded out the…letters, you’d…get…it.”

Feeling a little weak himself, Warrick sank down on his knees beside the chair, holding on to one armrest. “C.J., you can’t be having this baby now.”

“That’s…not…what the…baby…thinks. It’s breaking…OUT.” This time, C.J. did grab Warrick’s hand. Wrapping her fingers around it tightly, she squeezed and held on for all she was worth. “Oh…God…Warrick, I think…I’m having…an…exorcism.”

He felt completely powerless and lost. This was not covered in any FBI handbook he’d ever read. “What do you want me to do?”

C.J.’s answer came without hesitation. “Kill me.”

Unequal to what was happening, Warrick dragged his hand through his hair, momentarily at a loss. “Damn it, C.J., this would have never happened if you had better taste in men.”

It was lessening, the pain was lessening. C.J. took a breath and hoped her heart wouldn’t pop out of her chest. She spared her partner an annoyed look. “What…you saying? A better…class of man…wouldn’t…have slept…with me?”

“No.” Warrick shot her a look. She knew better than that. She knew he thought she was too good for the likes of Thorndyke, even if he hadn’t told her. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He dragged his hand through his hair again, trying to think. Nothing came. He didn’t know the first thing to do in this case, other than to keep her from panicking. But it wasn’t easy, not when he felt like panicking himself.

“I’ve got a law degree, C.J., not a degree in babies. I don’t know what to do.” He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to gather his thoughts together. A small bud of hope began to bloom. “Maybe you’re just having false labor.”

She felt as if someone had taken a carving knife to her. “If this is…false…labor, I don’t…want…to be around…for the real…thing.”

Comfortable, he had to get her comfortable. The thought was almost laughable, seeing the situation. Warrick stripped off his jacket and threw it on the floor. She could lie down on that.

Unbuttoning his sleeves, he pushed them up his forearms. “Okay, let’s get you in a better position.”

C.J. pressed her lips together, struggling hard not to give in to the waves of panic that were surfing atop waves of pain. “I bet you…say that…to all…the girls.”