Page 35 of Chasing a Kidnapper

“Thanks for the vote of confidence after I goofed up that first night.” Laurel frowned. “I guarantee I will not be caught off guard like that again.”

Trisha put a hand on Laurel’s arm. “I know you’ll protect Gabriel like he’s your own son.”

“You got that right.” Laurel nodded, then glanced sheepishly at West. “I lost my husband last year. Gabriel has really brightened my days after suffering that loss.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” West murmured. “I know Trisha values your support.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Laurel said. Then she seemed to drill West with a narrow look. “I won’t be happy if Trisha or Gabriel gets hurt.”

West looked surprised, but simply nodded. “We’re both in agreement on that score.”

Trisha felt herself flush as she suspected Laurel was warning West not to hurt her on a personal level, not physically hurt while working the case.

It was both sweet and embarrassing. Were her growing feelings for him that obvious?

She sincerely hoped not. All the more reason to keep things professional.

After finishing her breakfast, Trisha rose to carry her plate to the sink. “I’d like to freshen up.”

Without waiting for either West or Laurel to respond, she headed down the hall to her room. Time alone was a precious commodity, but she didn’t linger. When she emerged from the master suite, feeling better and ready to face the day, she stopped abruptly in her tracks when she saw West sitting on the sofa cradling Gabriel in his arms.

It was the first time he’d taken any interest in holding the baby. She couldn’t help smiling widely as she came farther into the room and said the first thing that popped into her head. “You’re a natural with him.”

“I’m not. Laurel needed to take a shower, and he started to cry.” As if struck by a cattle prod, he jumped up and thrust Gabriel into her arms. “I—uh, need to make a few calls.”

“Sure, I understand.” She turned away to hide her stark disappointment. Watching West care for Gabriel was a stark reminder that her son deserved a father. One who would love him as much as she did.

But no matter how attracted she was to West, she couldn’t allow herself to go down that path again.

If she fell in love with West and he walked away the way Bryan had, she would never recover.

TEN

West felt as if he’d been caught stealing rather than holding a baby. When Gabriel had begun to cry, Peanut had looked up at him as if expecting him to do something. Squelching a surge of panic, he’d picked the baby up from the blanket. Gabriel had instantly quieted in his arms, which surprised him.

But a natural father? No way.

He pulled out his phone to call his colleague Jack Donadio.

“What’s up, West?” Jack asked. Being on desk duty wasn’t fun, but he knew Jack would help the task force in any way he could.

“I plan to visit a storage unit facility today related to the attempted kidnapping of Gabriel McCord.” He raked a hand through his hair, glancing over to where Trisha held her son. “What do you think our chances are of getting a search warrant based on the perp who assaulted Laurel Newton because he wanted a key?”

“Not very good,” Jack said with regret. “Unless you found a storage unit bill or something else that would indicate that a storage unit is being used by Trish’s ex, I’d say it comes across as a fishing expedition.”

That was his fear, too, but it helped to hear Jack confirm his suspicions. Yet there was something else he’d forgotten. “We issued a BOLO for Bryan Little. Wouldn’t that help?”

“Not unless you have proof Little was the perp in the ski mask.”

West remembered that Trisha had mentioned the height and weight of the masked man didn’t match that of her ex. “Unfortunately not.”

“Sorry, man, but I don’t see how any judge would sign off based on what you have so far,” Jack said.

“How is the processing of the black Ford going?” West asked. Finding a fingerprint belonging to Little or to anyone who was not Renee Mills would help.

“No fingerprints,” Jack said with a sigh. “The vehicle was wiped clean. They did find a few hair fibers, but DNA will take time, and you know as well as I do those hairs may belong to the car owner.”

“Yeah, okay.” The bad news just kept coming. “Keep me in the loop.”

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