The Cradle Mission. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ She took a wobbly step backward, the one word filled with so much disappointment that he narrowed his eyes. The baby whimpered and she crooned, murmuring nonsensical assurances in that throaty voice that tore at his gut.

      “What did you want with Eric?”

      Her gaze raked over him, wary and uncertain. “I…we had an appointment. He didn’t make it.”

      The jolt slammed into him again, both sensual awareness and something else—suspicion? Eric was supposed to meet this woman today? The day he had died? Was that where he had been rushing to in such a hurry?

      One look at the baby and another thought crossed his mind. Eric had so many secrets.

      Or was she another one of his charity cases, running to Eric for help?

      His jaw tightened with dread.

      Could she possibly have something to do with his brother’s murder?

      ALANNA COULD NOT STOP the trembling inside her, but she made a valiant attempt to mask it in front of this man. The interior of the cabin was dark, a single light from a small lamp looming somewhere in a back room. Something was wrong. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. Despair hung in the room, heavy and intense, a mirror of her own mood.

      Paul Polenta’s warnings rang in her head. Watch out for the brother. He’s a cop, ex-military, medical background. He could be trouble.

      Emotions seemed to war in his eyes as he glared down at her. His black gaze was so penetrating and soulful she stepped backward, intimidated by the anger simmering beneath the surface. His potent sexuality drummed up every feminine instinct within her. And every protective one as well. She had to guard herself against him.

      He was starkly handsome and one of the biggest men she’d ever met, well over six feet, with broad shoulders that pulled against the fabric of his faded black T-shirt, and hands that could probably crush a rock. Black hair framed a chiseled face that was all planes and angles and solid strength, and the thick black stubble of a five-o’clock shadow indicated he hadn’t shaved today. Bronzed skin covered well-defined muscles, the heat radiating from him so powerful her belly clenched.

      He’d been drinking. She smelled the beer on his breath and, for a faint moment, wondered if alcohol affected his temperament. It didn’t matter.

      He was Eric Caldwell’s brother. Paul had warned her not to trust him.

      She should get out of there fast.

      But where would she go?

      She had to find Eric Caldwell.

      “Come in and we’ll talk.” He gestured toward the shadowed foyer.

      Alanna hesitated, but she slowly moved inside, hugging Simon to her. “I’d like to wait on your brother if you don’t mind,” she said. “It’s important that I see him. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

      Pain flashed in his eyes. “He’s not coming back.”

      “What do you mean?”

      Instead of answering her, his voice hardened, almost defensively. He shut the door and moved in front of it. “Tell me how you know Eric, and why you were meeting him.”

      Renewed panic wove its way inside her. “I…I can’t. It’s confidential.”

      “You want to know about Eric, you have to talk to me, lady.”

      His harsh tone startled Simon. Tension escalated between them as she tried to soothe him. Oddly, Cain Caldwell shifted and jammed his hands in his pockets, his face pinched as if Simon’s cries disturbed him almost as much as they did her.

      Thankfully he did lower his voice. “You can start by telling me your name.”

      She glanced around, spotted a newspaper lying on the hall table, and saw a headline about a Jane Doe. “Jane…Jane Carter.”

      A thick, black eyebrow rose in question. “How well did you know Eric, Jane?”

      He murmured the name as if he suspected it was fake, and she shifted Simon on her shoulder, rubbing circles around his back. “Well enough,” she hedged.

      His other eyebrow rose. “You were involved personally?” He nodded at Simon. “And the little boy?”

      Alanna opened her mouth to tell him no, then clamped down on her tongue, reminding herself not to offer too much information. If this man thought the baby was his brother’s or that they’d been friends, maybe he’d help her. At least maybe he’d tell her where she could find Eric.

      “I really need to talk to Eric,” she said instead of answering him. “Can you just tell me where he is? Please?”

      Once again that deep pain flashed into his eyes. “What’s left of him is lying in a brown casket at the Bay Street Funeral Home.”

      Shock rippled through every nerve in Alanna’s body. She shook her head, refusing to believe what he’d implied with his blunt statement.

      If Eric was dead, she and Simon were all alone. They had no one to help them.

      His patience snapped, and he suddenly grabbed her arms. “Yes, Ms. Carter,” he said in a harsh voice. “My brother was murdered a few hours ago. His car exploded right down there, near the woods behind his house. The day he was supposed to meet you. If you know something about his murder, you’d better tell me, now.”

      She glanced out the screen door and saw the marks, the charred black lines on the gravel, the yellow police tape cordoning off the area. Cain Caldwell’s accusations sank in, fear spiraling through her.

      Had Eric Caldwell died because he’d agreed to help her?

      THE WOMAN’S FRAIL BODY shuddered within Cain’s hands, and shame washed over him. The image of his brother’s burned body being pulled from the wreckage of his Jeep haunted him, yet he had no right to take his grief out on this vulnerable, needy woman.

      That was something his father would have done.

      He had sworn he’d be a better man than his father.

      He exhaled a shaky breath and released her. “I’m sorry, Ms. Carter.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his throat thick. “It’s been a hell of a day.” Of course, judging from her battered body, she’d had better days, too. Perspiration dotted her forehead, yet her hands had felt clammy. She had a fever, he realized, and wondered how long she’d been sick.

      “I’m sorry about your brother.” Panic gave the woman’s voice an edge. She clutched the baby tighter and backed away. “I…I didn’t mean to bother you.”

      “Wait a minute—”

      “No, I have to go.” She turned and ran, the baby’s cries escalating over the howling wind as she shielded it from the rain.

      “Wait, come back here!” He ran down the porch steps, but she slammed the car door, started the engine and tore down the driveway.

      Cain’s СКАЧАТЬ