Don’t lose hope, Max thought, staring down at his phone, willing it to ring. He glanced out the diner window at the pale blue sky. Those three little words were such an easy thing to type, but much harder to do. He had no way of knowing where Daisy was or if she’d get the message. He didn’t even know if she was still alive.
A chuckle drew his attention to his left. Fitz was sitting up in a diner high chair, smashing and smearing the remnants of a banana over the tray in between attempts at grabbing Max’s cell phone.
Max didn’t know exactly what connections Trent or Chloe had called in to get someone to show up and open the closed diner. He suspected it had something to do with the underground network of contacts they’d been working on to help trafficking and abuse victims find their ways home.
When he’d got a safe distance from the cabin, he’d doubled back to his vehicle and called Trent from the road. Chloe had called him back half an hour later with the news that someone with keys to the diner would meet him there to open it. It had been a woman in her late sixties, who’d brought a paper bag containing an egg sandwich for him, six homemade cookies, coffee, a banana and a bottle for Fitz.
She’d left without saying anything beyond telling Max to lock the door behind him. There’d even been a place behind the kitchen to shower and get changed into his civvies before attempting a quick catnap on the foldout cot while the baby slept.
Fitz stopped mashing and looked up at Max, his blue eyes suddenly worried and wide.
“Don’t worry, buddy,” Max said, softly. “I’m wondering where Daisy is, too. But she’ll be okay.”
His phone buzzed. The screen said the number was unknown. He answered it before it could finish ringing once. “Daisy?”
“No, bro, just us.” Trent’s voice crackled down the line with that familiar rumble of a car engine in the background that meant he was on speakerphone. “Chloe says we’re about an hour away.”
Wonderful. Max let out a long sigh of relief. “I texted her,” he said. “Told her where I was and where to meet me. I don’t know if she got the message, the battery was really low and the phone might even be dead. She might not have made it. Everything inside me wanted to run out there and fight for her. But they had guns, they were firing into the woods, and I couldn’t risk Fitz.”
“You did the right thing,” Trent said. “You saved a child’s life.”
“Trent? If she dies, I’m never going to forgive myself.”
“I get it,” his brother said. “Better than anyone. You think I’ve never been put in the impossible situation of deciding whose life gets saved first? You want to remind me what WIN stands for?”
“What’s Important Now.”
“Right, and what’s triage?”
Max couldn’t believe his brother was trying to school him on his own job. “It means figuring out the most urgent thing and doing that first.”
“Right,” Trent said. “So trust yourself, trust God and trust that together we’re going to save both Daisy and Fitz. Have faith that Daisy is going to walk through that door. Then you’re going to stall her until we can get there, make sure the baby’s taken care of, bring Daisy in for questioning and hopefully resolve this whole situation before it escalates any further.”
Bring her in. The words sat heavy in his gut. She’d looked him in the eyes and begged him not to call the police. Now, here he was, sitting in a trap that he’d helped two detectives bait.
Yes, he knew she’d told him she’d talk to the cops if she knew she could trust them. He also knew that she’d be safer with Trent and Chloe than she would be anywhere else. Yet, as Fitz went back to babbling happily and squishing banana, Max couldn’t look him in the eye.
“She says she didn’t kidnap him,” Max told Trent. “She says Gerry Pearce told her to take him somewhere. I don’t know why anyone would call in a kidnapped child alert or issue a warrant.”
“Neither do I,” Trent said. “But you have no idea how hard we’re looking into things from our end. Without going into anything classified, I can tell you that a few months back, the vice unit was tracking a major organized-crimes case. Suddenly, a whole lot of evidence went missing. The electronic devices we still had were locked up tight with passwords our tech team still can’t break, and I had reason to suspect that a couple of our cops had gone dirty. Sometimes, the people you think are clean just haven’t hit their price yet. Bottom line is, it’s not unreasonable for Daisy to distrust cops. In fact, if you are ever questioned by anyone in uniform about any of this, don’t tell them I’m involved. We’re dealing with some deeply classified stuff here.”
Wasn’t he always? Max nodded. “Got it.”
“But that’s big-picture stuff,” Trent went on. “Right now, the priority is making sure that baby’s okay. You didn’t tip Daisy off, right?”
“No, of course not,” Max said. “You told me not to. Also, I’m pretty sure if I had, she would’ve run. She practically begged me not to call the police—”
“You didn’t call the police. You called your brother.”
“Who just happens to be a highly respected undercover detective with the RCMP,” Max said.
“Who got Daisy’s case transferred to his jurisdiction,” Trent countered. “Who has been working incredibly hard to get the warrant canceled and find out who called police and reported Fitz kidnapped.”
“Just promise me you’re not going to arrest her,” Max said.
“I’m not in the habit of arresting people unless they commit a crime.”
There was an edge to Trent’s voice. It was straight shooting and controlled. Max wished he felt that way about any of this. Max’s brothers often teased him about being unflappable, but it was easy to stay detached when he was running from one accident to another, without ever stopping or getting involved.
“I’m not joking,” Max said. “I’m really not. Just promise me that you’re not going to put her in handcuffs or something.”
“I can’t promise that, and you know it. Just like you can’t promise she won’t pull a knife or a gun or try to snatch the baby and run.”
Daisy wouldn’t do that! The desire to argue with his brother and to make him see just how special and different Daisy was rose up inside him like a wave. Trent hadn’t seen the way she’d risked her life to save Fitz or witnessed the look in in her eyes.
Fitz chortled beside him, dragging Max’s attention back to his wide enthusiastic grin, punctuated by little front teeth. His tiny fists waved.
Lord, why am I so wrapped up in this? I know Trent is right. I know he and Chloe have a duty to treat this like any other case. Why can’t I?
The phone line beeped.
“Hang on,” Trent said. “I’ve got a call coming in from a buddy in Organized Crime. Looks like someone has finally had his morning coffee. Hopefully, this will help us get some answers.” The phone had gone dead even before Max could answer.
“Hey, Max.” The sound of Daisy’s voice made Max leap to his feet. He’d been so busy watching the front door he hadn’t even stopped to think she could sneak in the back. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, soaking wet and covered in mud but somehow looking more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen before.
How long had she been standing there? How much had she heard?
“Who were you talking to?” she asked.
“My brother,” he said, feeling his legs push him to his feet. “I... I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you.”
Suspicion needled at the back of his mind, questioning how two armed killers just happened to let her go. But it evaporated as he watched Fitz laugh and reach out his arms for Daisy and heard the cry of relief burst through her lungs as she ran toward them. Max felt his arms open to catch her.
Instead she stopped short, a few inches away from the tip of his outstretched hand, scooped Fitz up from his chair and held him to her chest. Fitz squealed. She pulled the baby deeper into her arms.
Max turned away. What was she going to think when she discovered that he’d called Trent? What if Trent took Fitz away from her? How would she ever forgive him?
Then he felt a hand on his. Her fingers were slender, delicate even, and yet as they wove through his, their grip tightened with a strength that made something in his chest wish he’d never have to let her go.
“Thank you for keeping him safe.”
“No problem,” he said, feeling his own voice grow strangely deeper in his throat. “I’m so sorry I just left—”
“I told you to run.” She tugged him closer. “I wanted you to save Fitz’s life and you did.”
Yes, but that didn’t quell whatever it was that was beating in his heart and wishing he could’ve done so much more. He felt his arm slide along her back. His hand came to rest between her shoulder blades. Fitz reached out and grabbed the front of Max’s shirt with his tiny hand, and Max let himself stand there for a long moment with one hand on her back, the other hand holding hers, and little baby Fitz nestled between them.
“Fitz and I had a good time hanging out,” he said. “He’s an amazing little guy. But I’m sure he’s glad to be back with you.” Max ran his fingers slowly over her arm, feeling the scrapes and bruises on her skin. “Some of these scrapes are pretty deep. We should get them cleaned up. I have a spray that should help. Do you have any other injuries I should know about? It looked like he knocked you out pretty bad.”
“It looked worse than it was,” she said.
His hand slid to her face and tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Tell me the truth, please. Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Jones dragged me across the grass. Smith threatened to kill me if I didn’t tell them where you’d taken Fitz. I kicked them both pretty hard, tumbled down the hill into the lake and hid. Then when they left, I found the phone and made my way here.”
“You’re incredible. You know that?” The words slipped from his lips before he could even think about whether they were the right or wrong thing to say. They were still standing so close that all he’d have to do was lean over Fitz’s head and his lips would meet hers. The weird and unfamiliar lump in his throat grew heavier.
His phone began to ring again. “Sorry, that’ll be my brother.”
“No problem.” She pulled away.
He glanced at the phone. Sure enough, the number was blocked. He declined the call, knowing Trent would wait a minute and call back.
“The formula I gave Fitz is on the counter,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s the right brand, but I followed the instructions to the letter and he drank it. I don’t think he ate any of the banana. He just mostly smeared it around, but he had fun. I parked my truck in the very edge of the parking lot and threw some camouflage netting over it, just in case Jones and Smith cruised the highway looking for a shiny white-and-yellow vehicle. Hang on, I’ll give you my keys and you can go get my jump bag. It’s bright red and has all the basic first-aid essentials anyone could ever need, including emergency food rations.”
Max grabbed his leather jacket off the chair beside him and reached into the front pocket.
His fingers brushed his keys and suddenly he realized what he was about to do. She was a fugitive. Was he really about to hand her the means to escape, steal his vehicle and run away again? The keys hung from his fingers in the space between them.
Her eyes widened, then she looked around the diner as if realizing for the first time that he’d somehow managed to open a closed diner and procure food. Questions filled her eyes and he wasn’t sure how he was going to answer them.
The phone started ringing. He needed her to trust him and to do that, he had to demonstrate that he was willing to trust her. Her fingers brushed his. He let his keys fall into her palm.
“I’ll be back in a moment.” She turned and walked out the back door, with Fitz in her arms. Max felt a long breath leave his lungs and only then realized he had banana on his shirt.
He answered the phone. “Hey! Sorry, I’ve only got a minute. She’s here.”
“Who’s there, Mr. Henry?” The voice was female, slightly formal and exceedingly polite.
He took a step back. “Who is this?”
“A friend, Mr. Henry, someone who’s trying to stop an unfortunate situation from spiraling any further out of hand than it already has and who wants to help keep you from making a huge mistake.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m not in the habit of taking advice from people who don’t tell me their names.”
“Don’t be foolish!” In an instant, all pretense of politeness faded. “I could make up any name I wanted, now couldn’t I? Call me Jane, if you want. It doesn’t matter to me. You have no way of knowing if I’m telling the truth.”
Heat rose to the back of his neck. He wasn’t a spy, a cop or a detective. He dealt in unmistakable facts about what was broken and what was injured. That was how he saved lives. “What do you want?”
“I want the baby.” At this, Jane’s voice turned downright hard. “I want Fitzgerald Pearce the Second to be back where he belongs. That means getting him far away from Daisy Hayward. She’s not the person you think she is. She’s a criminal. She’s been arrested for theft and charged with making false police reports. She lost her driver’s license. If you turn your back on her, she’ll rob you blind.”
The heat had spread through his neck down his chest and now seemed to be burning through his veins, battling the cold wash of fear and uncertainty that Jane’s voice sent shivering over his limbs. Was it his imagination or did he hear a car outside? He glanced out the front window but couldn’t see anything.
“Tell me where you are.” Jane’s voice softened. “And I’ll arrange to have someone come and collect him. That’s all you have to do. Tell me where to find you, hand over the baby to me and you can turn around and walk away.”
He turned back around. Daisy was standing in the back door with Fitz in her arms and Max’s jump bag slung over her shoulder.
“Who are you, really?” His voice dropped to an urgent whisper. “How did you even get this number?”
Daisy was walking toward him now. Doubt pooled in her eyes. He turned away.
“Listen!” Jane’s voice sharpened. “You’re in danger! Don’t you get that? This is not your problem. I’m trying to help you keep yourself from getting killed. Are you really ready to die for this woman?”
“Max?” Daisy’s hand touched his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
No, it really wasn’t. Just how many secrets was he going to keep from her?
“A woman named Jane is on the phone.” He turned toward her. “She’s demanding we give her Fitz.”
A gasp slipped from Daisy’s lips. As he watched, the color drained from her face.
“Big mistake,” Jane said. “You’ve just signed your own death warrant. I will find you, and I will get my hands on that baby. And if you try to stop me, what happens next is on you.”
* * *
Fear spread down Daisy’s limbs until she felt so numb she could barely even feel Fitz in her arms. Jane. The same woman who’d texted her and told her she’d be deported if she went to police?
Max growled at the phone, hung up and slid it back into his pocket. “So who’s Jane?”
“I don’t know...”
“Everything about your face right now says you’re not telling me the whole truth.” He crossed his arms, and everything about his face said that he was beyond frustrated and nearing fed up.
“I have no idea who you were just talking to on the phone!” Her voice rose. “I got a text from someone named Jane last night. But the only person I know named Jane was Fitz’s mother and she died in childbirth.”
“Are you sure?” His eyes narrowed. “How old was she? Did she die in a hospital? Are there records? Was it a closed or open coffin at the funeral?”
“How would I know if there were medical records?” Daisy asked. “You think I have access to things like that? All I know for sure is what Gerry told me when I was hired and what I read in her obituary. Fitz was born in a Quebec hospital, I don’t remember which one. Jane was in her early thirties when she died. Thirty-three, I think, so almost ten years older than Gerry’s second wife but still a lot younger than him. Her cause of death wasn’t in her obituary, and I never quizzed Gerry about it, because that would’ve been prying and it was not my place to ask. I’m his employee, not his friend. Most of what I know about their lives is what I’ve pieced together from scraps of arguments I’ve overheard. Anna and Gerry didn’t exactly fight quietly, and they were having an affair long before Jane died. Why are you grilling me about her death?”
“Because I’m an emergency medical professional,” Max said. “Like I told you last night. I’ve delivered babies, sometimes at the side of the roads from mothers who’d just survived accidents. I’ve not lost one yet. I’m not saying it doesn’t ever happen, because I know as well as anyone how fragile life can be. But this whole story you’re trying to sell me on, quite frankly, makes me feel like an idiot who can’t tell when the pretty girl is pulling the wool over his eyes. You’re the British nanny of a rich reclusive man who’s had two wives die under mysterious circumstances—”
“I’m a licensed childcare professional, working for a successful computer engineer who lost his second wife in a violent home invasion!” she countered, ignoring the fact that Max sighed loudly. “Look, I’m being as honest with you as I can be! Whoever Jane is, she threatened me, too. She told me if I went to police, I’d be arrested.”
“Arrested for what?” Max asked. His eyes darted to the window and she got the distinct impression he was watching for someone. “Is it true you lost your driver’s license? Or that you were arrested for theft and filing false charges?”
She pressed her lips together. There was an intensity to the way he was interrogating her and almost a desperation behind his questions, like he was scrambling down a cliff and trying to grab onto anything that might stop his fall. “Honestly? She told me my boss didn’t fill my work-visa paperwork properly, which means I’m not here legally, and if I’m arrested, I’ll be deported and never see Fitz again.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” Max said. “But that much I do believe. Because promising work visas but not delivering on them is exactly how criminals manage to traffic women overseas into low-paying jobs, and worse. I bet they also took your passport and tell you that they send all your pay home to your family in England. It’s possible they chose you specifically because of that criminal record Jane said you have. Gerry wanted to make sure he could control you and you wouldn’t go to police. That would make you a victim in all this.”
He made it sound like that was a good thing. Like he was hoping to prove she was a victim. Like he was a trial lawyer preparing to argue her case just before they stepped through the courtroom door to face some relentless prosecution.
“Why are you talking like this?” She shook her head. “Gerry is not a crook and I am definitely not a victim.”
Again his eyes darted to the window. “Tell me, was Jane right when she said you lost your driver’s license?”
“What difference does it make?”
His eyes cut back to her face. “Please, Daisy, I need to know. Otherwise I can’t help you.”
Help her with what and against whom? “Yes, but I got it back—”
“Were you ever arrested?”
She felt her lip quiver and gritted her teeth to stop it. “Yes, but—”
“For theft and filing false charges?”
“Yes, both! But it was years ago, back home in England, long before I moved to Canada!” Her chin rose. Why was she bothering trying to explain herself to him?
Whatever was going on with him that had him so worked up, it was like he wasn’t even listening. He was too busy throwing out loaded and misleading yes-or-no questions instead of just letting her tell the whole story, about how her stepfather once punished her by saying she’d stolen the car she’d bought from him and how he’d got some buddy on the police force to charge her with making false claims after she kept calling the police on the fact he’d got drunk and hit her mother. She hadn’t been able to afford a lawyer, her mother had cried and begged her to plead guilty, telling her that if she did, she could move back home and because she was young it would be wiped from her record.
Her gut said no. Her instincts had told her to run. But she’d trusted her mother and pleaded guilty to crimes she hadn’t committed. And instead, she’d been tossed back out on the street.
So that had been it for whatever it was inside her heart that had succumbed to her mother’s tears. There’d be no more blind trust and no more trusting other people over her own instincts. That had been how she’d learned to never go down without a fight.
Max still hadn’t spoken and just stood there looking at her like she was some problem he didn’t know how to fix. Well, she didn’t need him to fix her and she wasn’t going to be his problem for very much longer.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said. “But I’m not just going to stand here and defend myself or play twenty questions. I don’t owe you an explanation for my life, because quite frankly my life isn’t any of your business. You saved Fitz’s life and probably mine. I’m always going to be grateful for that. But it’s clear you don’t trust me and I have no reason to trust you.
“You think your behavior isn’t incredibly suspicious? You’re the one who is fielding calls from a dead woman who wants to turn you against me, was on the phone at three in the morning to your ‘brother’ and keeps hiding your phone every time you’re on it like you’re afraid I’m going to read your lips or glance at the screen. You’re the one who broke into a closed diner and asked me to meet him there! How do I know you’re not a crook?”
His phone rang again. The screen said the number was unknown. Max didn’t reach for it. Instead, he ran his hand through his hair and his eyes darted back to the window. “Okay, but there’s a very good and very reasonable explanation for everything I’ve done.”
“And can you tell me what that explanation is?” she asked.
His eyes turned back to her face. Confusion, doubt, regret and half a dozen other emotions she couldn’t identify roiled in his eyes like water about to overflow its banks. She didn’t want to leave him and she didn’t want him to go. She wanted to step back into the safety of his chest and feel his arm around her. Instead, she took a step back.
“You should go,” she said. “I’d leave, but my phone is completely dead and I need to plug it in to charge. I used the final bit of battery life to download three texts from Gerry asking where I was and if his son was okay. I’ll call him and sort out with him whether I’m renting a car or if he’s going to get someone to pick me up. You’ve done more than enough. You’ve been incredible, and I’m always going to be grateful for everything. But having you caught up in my mess isn’t good for either of us.”
He glanced at his phone again, then back to the window and then finally up to the ceiling. She watched as his eyes closed and his lips moved in what looked like prayer.
“Okay, I’m sorry if I was over the line,” he said. He turned back to her, his hand grabbed hers and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she stood there, feeling the warmth of his fingers enveloping hers. “I don’t want to fight with you and you’re right that it isn’t my place to grill you about your life. But I’m worried about you and I really do want to help. How about we both take a deep breath and start over? The only sleep I got was the quick nap in the cabin with Fitz on my chest and about thirty minutes on a cot in the back. How about I go into the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee and see about making you some breakfast? You must be starving.”
Car tires crunched on the gravel outside. She looked up, her back stiffening in fear. Two shining white cop cars had pulled up outside. Max snatched his phone off the table and texted something so quick it couldn’t have been more than four or five letters. The phone beeped back a response almost as quickly.
He frowned and glanced back at the cars. It looked like there was a male officer in one and a female officer in the other, and they appeared to be talking through their open windows.
Max grabbed his leather jacket off the chair and shoved his hands through both sleeves at once, tossing it on with a quick cool flick over his head. “I’m hoping they’re just looking for coffee and wondering if the diner’s open. Hold on, I’ll go talk to them, explain I met the owner and she let me in, which is the actual truth. Just hold on and don’t run or anything. Please.”
“Okay,” she said. “But when you get back, I want you to explain about the owner of this place. I’m only agreeing to coffee on the condition you start answering questions, too.”
“Deal.” A tired smile crooked his face. It was endearing. “I’ll just be a second.”
She swung Fitz around to her other hip and watched as Max sauntered down the diner toward the door. There was something about his walk that was somehow both alert and relaxed at the same time, like every move his body made projected both reassurance and protection. Chimes jingled as he pushed through the front door and stepped outside. She looked down. He’d left the keys on the table.
She let out a long breath. Was this some kind of test to see what kind of person she really was and if she wanted to add stolen paramedic vehicle to her rap sheet?
“What’s wrong with me?” She looked down at Fitz. He responded with a gurgle and a wide baby-tooth grin. “I barely know Max. He’s practically a stranger. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me.”
Fitz squealed and waved both hands. She hugged him close. She didn’t know what was sadder, the fact that for the past few months the only person she could really talk to was a baby or that she had no idea how much longer he’d even be in her life. She closed her eyes and whispered a desperate prayer, feeling the tears of worry and relief she’d refused to shed in front of Max prick against the corner of her eyes.
Sudden shouts filled the air, panic leaped in her throat and her eyes jerked open. Two uniformed cops were running toward Max, guns drawn. Fear flooded her veins. She knew them. They’d been the two cops who’d shown up at the house weeks ago, who Gerry had accused of trying to blackmail him and whose visit had caused the fighting between Anna and Gerry to intensify. The man with the buzz cut was Officer Bradley and his much shorter partner with the ponytail and baseball cap was Officer Kelly—or at least those seemed to be the names Daisy remembered hearing between Anna and Gerry screaming back and forth at each other.
“Get down!” Officer Bradley shouted, so loudly his voice seemed to shake the window. “Hands up now!”
She had no idea how they’d found her. But whatever their link to all this, they now had Max in their crosshairs. She clutched Fitz to her chest and watched as Max’s strong form knelt on the pavement. Fitz whimpered in her arms, as if sensing her fear. She had to get out of there, she had to take Fitz and run, but how could she leave Max in danger?
Oh, Max, I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this.
“Don’t shoot! I’m cooperating.” Max called loudly. His hands rose. “I demand to see your badges and know what’s going on here.”
Daisy watched as Officer Kelly’s mouth moved but didn’t hear the reply through the window. Then Kelly pressed the barrel of her gun into the back of Max’s head, while her partner pushed him down into the pavement and cuffed Max’s hands behind his back.
“Kelly! Watch him!” Bradley bellowed. “If he moves so much as a muscle, shoot him!”
He started toward the restaurant door. Daisy grabbed Max’s keys off the table, slung both bags over her shoulder and ran.