Dylan and the Baby Doctor

“It was the only thing to do. Now can we drop it, please? I could have stayed home and listened to Mother, if I’d wanted to go over this again. Goodness knows, she never lets me forget how I’d deprived her of getting to know her first grandchild.”

Trish looked as if she might argue, then sighed. “Done. I hope you’re hungry, though. Hardy’s out back making hamburgers on the grill. It’s his night to cook and if it can’t be done on a grill, we don’t eat.”

Over the weekend, Dylan fell into the easy rhythms of his sister’s family, grateful to be able to push the memories away for a few days at least. When Sunday rolled around, he still wasn’t ready to go back to Houston and face real life. None of the cases on his desk were challenging. Just routine skip-traces, a straying husband, an amateur attempt at insurance fraud. He could wrap any one of them up in less than a day, which was one of the reasons he’d been so desperate to get away. Tackling them wouldn’t have crowded out his misery.

“Stay one more night,” Trish begged.

He figured she’d sensed his reluctance to go. His baby sister had always been able to read him like a book, better than any of the younger brothers who’d come between them. Fiercely loyal and kindhearted, the male Delacourts taunted each other and banded together against the outside world. But as tight-knit as they were, none of his brothers dared to bulldoze through his defenses the way Trish did.

“Yeah,” Hardy agreed, picking up on some unspoken signal from his wife. “Stick around. You can get the tile up in the second bathroom. Trish says I don’t have the patience to do it right.”

“And I do?” Dylan said, amused by their ploy to make him feel that his continued presence wasn’t an intrusion. Crediting him with more patience than anyone was a real stretch.

“Trust me,” Trish said. “You’re bound to have more than my husband. He keeps getting distracted.”

Hardy grinned. “Because I happen to have a very sexy new wife.”

Sometimes witnessing their happiness was more painful than going back to his lonely existence in Houston, but tonight there was no contest. Anything was better than going home.

Dylan held up his hands. “Okay, okay, no details, please. You two may be married, but she’s still my baby sister. I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Trish said, beaming, clearly pleased with herself.

That night, just as they were finishing supper, the phone rang. Because he was closest, Dylan grabbed it.

“Oh, Dylan, is that you?” a vaguely familiar voice demanded.

Dylan tensed, alerted by the tone to trouble. “Yes. Who is this?”

“It’s Lizzy. Lizzy Adams. I’m the doctor who treated Trish after Laura was born. We met at Trish’s wedding.”

He recalled a slender, dark-haired woman who’d radiated confidence. She didn’t sound so sure of herself now. “Of course. You want to talk to Trish. She’s right here.”

“No, no. It’s you I need to speak to.”

“Oh?”

“You’re a private detective, right?”

“Yes.” He slid into professional mode, finally grasping that what he was hearing in her voice was a thread of panic she was trying hard to hide. “What’s going on?”

“My friend, the doctor who works with me at the clinic, Kelsey James…have you met her?”

Although he’d met dozens of people at the wedding and on subsequent visits, no image came to mind. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s about her little boy, Bobby. Something’s happened.”

Dylan’s heart began to thud dully. Something told him he didn’t want to know the rest, but he forced himself to ask anyway. “What about him?”

“He’s disappeared. She thinks he’s been kidnapped. Can you come, Dylan? Can you come right away?”

“Just tell me where,” he said grimly, beckoning for paper and pencil. As soon as he had them, he jotted down the directions. “Have you talked to the police?”

“Justin’s here now,” she said, referring to her nephew who also happened to be the local sheriff. “He needs help, though. Kelsey wants this kept quiet. She won’t let him call in the FBI or anyone else from outside.”

The knee-jerk reaction of a panicked parent—or something more? “Why?” he asked.

“Let her explain. Just come. Please.”

“I’m on my way.”

“What?” Trish demanded, already standing as he reached for his jacket. “Why did Lizzy call you? What’s happened?”

“It’s about somebody named Kelsey. Her little boy’s disappeared.”

“Oh, no,” Trish whispered, suddenly glancing at Laura as if to reassure herself that her daughter was right where she belonged. She regarded him worriedly. “Dylan, I don’t know about this. Are you sure this is something you should get involved in? I know you’re the best and I adore Kelsey and Bobby, but won’t this be too hard?”

“I can’t just turn my back,” he said, wondering what the look Trish exchanged with Hardy was all about. “You obviously know this Kelsey person. Is there something more that I should know?”

“No,” Trish insisted.

She said it without looking at him, which sure as anything meant she was covering up something. Trish had never been able to lie worth a hoot.

“Trish?”

“Just go.”

He thought Hardy looked every bit as guilty as his sister, but he didn’t have time to try to find out what they were hiding. If he didn’t like the answers he got from Kelsey James, he’d come back here for the missing pieces.

“I’ll try to call,” he said, “but don’t wait up for me.”

“If you need people for a search, call me,” Hardy said. “I can get all the men from White Pines to help out.”

“Thanks. Let’s see what’s going on first.”

If he had been anyplace other than Los Pin˜os, Dylan would have called one of his buddies to take over right this second, because Trish was right—searching for missing kids tore him up inside. But there weren’t a lot of private detectives nearby and time was critical in a situation like this. He had no choice. All he could do was pray that this disappearance would have a happy ending.

Kelsey felt as if someone had ripped out her heart. Anyone who’d been through med school and worked in an emergency room was used to terrible stress and was able to think clearly in a crisis. Despite all that training, though, she hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought since the moment when she’d realized that Bobby was no longer playing in the backyard where she’d left him.

She had simply stood staring blankly at the open gate, frozen, until adrenaline kicked in. Then she had raced to the street, pounded frantically on doors, trailed by bewildered, helpful neighbors as she’d searched futilely for her son. Although plenty of people were outside on such a sunny summer day, no one had seen him leave the yard. No one had seen him toddling down the street. A child Bobby’s age, alone, would have drawn attention.

She had no idea how long it had been—minutes, an hour—before she concluded that Bobby hadn’t simply wandered away. By then both Justin and Lizzy had arrived, alerted by the neighbors. Justin had taken charge automatically, asking crisp, concise questions, organizing a search and leaving Lizzy to sit with her and try to keep her calm, when she wanted to be out searching herself.

With neighbors crowded around wanting to help, talking in hushed voices, Kelsey didn’t feel calm, not after three cups of chamomile tea, not after the mild tranquilizer her friend had insisted she take. She wasn’t sure she would ever be calm again, not until she had her baby back in her arms. This was her worst nightmare coming true. It didn’t matter that no one had seen a stranger on the street. She knew what had happened. She knew who had taken Bobby. And why.

“It’s Paul,” she whispered finally, forcing herself to say aloud what had been tormenting her from the moment she’d realized Bobby was gone. “He’s taken him. I know he has.”

“You’re probably right,” Lizzy said, her tone soothing, as if she still feared that Kelsey would shatter at any second. “And I know you hate the man’s guts, but isn’t that better than a stranger? Paul won’t hurt Bobby. Despite what a louse I think he is, I know he loved Bobby. He just wants money or drugs and Bobby’s his bargaining chip. I think you can count on him being in touch. He’s not going to run with him. He’ll bring Bobby back the minute he gets what he wants.”