Wanted. Delores Fossen

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СКАЧАТЬ in the air, but McCabe pinned them to the sofa. “And how could I possibly have manipulated it?”

      He glared at her. “By switching mine and my late wife’s embryo with the one you should have received.”

      Oh, yes. He was crazy.

      “I didn’t switch anything. There was a slim-to-none chance that I’d get pregnant the old-fashioned way, because my body rarely produces eggs, even with fertility treatments. So, I used the donation the clinic gave me.” She paused just long enough to gather her breath. “And what possible proof do you have that it was yours?”

      “All the proof I need.” But McCabe paused, mumbled some really bad profanity. “Four months ago I hired a surrogate to have a baby, using the embryo that my late wife and I’d stored at a clinic. Not Hanover,” he quickly added. “Another one in San Antonio. But then the surrogate changed her mind and decided not to go through with the pregnancy.”

      Lyla mentally went through all that. “And you think I somehow got yours and your wife’s embryo instead of the anonymous one I requested.”

      “I know you did,” he fired back. “Last month, the clinic called me and said the embryo was missing. They said maybe it’d been stolen or accidentally donated, and I followed a very hard-to-follow paper trail that eventually led to you.”

      Oh, mercy. Maybe it was true, then, but Lyla wasn’t just going to take this man’s word for it. “I want to see this paper trail.”

      Marshal McCabe tipped his head toward the barn. “After I hear what your gun-toting friend has to say.”

      “He’s not my friend!” she practically shouted. “And so what if the clinic accidentally gave me your embryo? It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you in my life, and I don’t want you part of my baby’s life.”

      Except there was the possibility about this being his late wife’s embryo. No. Did that mean he’d have some kind of legal claim?

      That couldn’t happen.

      “The switch wasn’t an accident,” he insisted. But then he shook his head. “At least I don’t think it was. I think there’s something bad going on here and that you’re a key player in this wrongdoing.”

      Lyla couldn’t argue with the something bad theory. He was there, right in her face. But she’d done nothing wrong and had taken no shortcuts in getting pregnant with this baby.

      “I don’t know where you got your information about me, but there’s no reason whatsoever that I’d want to have your baby.” And she didn’t bother to say it nicely, either. “I want you arrested and out of here. That’ll happen as soon as the deputy arrives.”

      Soon couldn’t be soon enough, though. Lyla prayed that whoever the sheriff had sent out was speeding to her ranch right now.

      “If I explain to the deputy what I’ve learned, maybe he’ll arrest you,” McCabe threatened right back. “Because one way or another, you will tell me what’s going on.”

      “I have no idea,” Lyla insisted, but she was talking to the air, because the marshal’s attention was fastened to the barn now. He practically jumped to his feet and snapped in that direction.

      Alarmed at the concern that she saw in his eyes, Lyla jumped up, as well, and followed his gaze. There wasn’t one man but two out there now. Both wearing camouflage fatigues. Both armed.

      Oh, God.

      Now she had three armed men on her ranch.

      “Either your second bodyguard just showed up, or you’ve done something to piss off someone other than me,” McCabe growled.

      Even though she didn’t trust the marshal, that didn’t mean Lyla could ignore what he’d just said. Maybe she had riled someone. After all, she was the second in charge of a huge crime-scene-unit lab, and processed all kinds of evidence.

      “You think those men are here to hurt me?” she asked, peering out at them.

      “Hard to say.”

      She was tired of the vague answers. “Then guess,” Lyla demanded. She pinned her attention to the gunmen, too. If they moved one inch, she’d have to move as well. She prayed they didn’t start shooting into the house.

      McCabe shook his head. “Maybe there’s someone who doesn’t want you involved in this.”

      Well, she certainly fell into that category. Lyla didn’t want to be involved even if she had no idea what this was. Still, that was something she would have to work out later. After she had some way to protect herself.

      Lyla moved, ready to race toward her bedroom to get the .38 she had in the back of her nightstand drawer.

      “I don’t think so,” McCabe snarled.

      He hooked his left arm around her waist, dragged her to him and anchored her against his body. She’d only known him a matter of minutes, and it was the third time he’d put his hands on her. Lyla wanted to do something about that.

      Actually, she wanted to punch him and run.

      But she couldn’t risk hurting the baby. No. As angry and scared as she was, her best bet was to wait for the deputy and maybe try to reason with this man, who claimed to be the father of her child.

      A father who might be a criminal.

      Lyla tried to think back through their entire conversation. Not easy to do, with her heart and mind racing and with McCabe plastered against her. It was hard to think or breathe with him so close. Still, she forced herself to do just that, and she went back to the part of their conversation before he’d dropped the embryo bombshell.

      “Why did you think I had anything to do with the Webb murder investigation?” she asked. Lyla also kept watch on the two gunmen.

      “You don’t...yet,” McCabe said.

      Despite the clear danger outside, that caused her attention to snap to the marshal. “What do you mean?”

      “I mean you’ll be put in charge of compiling the final investigation, the one that’ll determine who’s responsible for Jonah Webb’s murder.”

      Lyla was shaking her head before he even finished. “Not possible. The Texas Rangers have their own crime lab, one of the best in the country.”

      “And soon the governor will say there’s a conflict of interest, that the head of the Ranger lab once worked on a case with one of their prime suspects, Kirby Granger.”

      “Your foster father,” she mumbled. “It’s true?”

      McCabe nodded. “True that they worked together. Not true about the conflict of interest.”

      That probably wouldn’t matter. Appearance was everything in this sort of investigation. The sixteen-and-a-half-year-old murder had drawn national attention, and the governor and the Rangers would want to make sure the right people were held responsible for the crime.

      Still, there was something about this that didn’t make sense.

      “Even СКАЧАТЬ