Page 6 of Ransom for His Secret Son

“Jolene, bring in the CSIs to check the cemetery and the woods just behind the stone wall,” Brody called out to his deputy. “And look for the gunman’s vehicle, too. It might be stashed around here.”

“On it, boss,” Jolene said, giving them one last look before Caleb closed the ambulance doors.

Hal took a seat at the top of the gurney, and Remi sat next to the baby. The ambulance jolted as it started moving, the sudden motion drawing a soft whimper from the baby. He didn’t open his eyes, but his little arms and legs jolted. She reached over, stroking his head and murmuring soothing nonsense. However, her mind wasn’t only on the baby.

It was on Brody, too.

He sat rigid on the bench across from her, his elbows braced on his knees, his hands clasped together like he was holding himself back from reaching out. His gaze was locked on the baby, studying him with an intensity that would have made her squirm if it had been directed at her.

He hadn’t said a word since giving Jolene her orders. Just sat there, jaw tight, looking like he was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.

Remi laid her hand gently on the baby’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. She wanted to say something, anything, to Brody. But what could she say? That she didn’t have all the answers either? That she didn’t know why John Smith had left the baby in the cemetery, of all places, or why the man had risked getting caught instead of sticking to the shadows?

The baby let out another soft whimper, his tiny fists clenching. Remi glanced down at him, her throat tightening.

“It’s okay,” Brody said suddenly, his voice breaking through the tension that had settled over the ambulance. “You’re safe.”

Brody kept his eyes on the child, and some of his intense expression had vanished. There was something else there.

Something raw and unguarded.

Without a word, Remi stood so she could trade places with Brody. His movements were awkward at first, his hands unsure of where to go, but he finally touched the baby’s cheek, settling his fingers there as if he’d done it a hundred times. The muscles in his jaw flickered, and he glanced at her.

“Did he…?” Brody paused, swallowing hard. “Did John Smith say anything else? About the baby?”

“No,” Remi admitted. “Just that he wanted my case notes. And that he’d do an exchange with me for information about a missing baby. I didn’t expect him to actually be in the cemetery while I was there. I thought I’d show up, leave the thumb drive…” She trailed off when she thought of something.

“What?” Brody snapped.

“Everything happened so fast,” she muttered. “He gave only thirty minutes. So I didn’t think of why he didn’t just demand I email or text the file. He wanted me here. He wanted me in the cemetery.”

“Yet he punched you in the ribs when he saw you,” he pointed out.

He had, and her side was still throbbing like a bad tooth. “I must have startled him.” And she thought back to the layout of the cemetery. “He didn’t have the baby with him then, so he had perhaps already done what he’d come to do. Leave him on Miranda’s grave.” She met his gaze again. “That’s all I know, Brody. I swear. Everything else is just a guess.”

Brody grunted, his focus shifting back to the baby. His little face scrunched up, and he let out a tiny hiccup, causing another flicker of emotion to flash across Brody’s face.

“I still don’t believe it,” he muttered so quietly she almost missed it. “It can’t be.”

Remi leaned back, watching him. “You don’t have to believe it right now. But if this is your son—”

“If?” His gaze snapped up to hers.

“You said it yourself,” she shot back. “You don’t believe it yet. I’m just saying if he is, then we need to make sure he’s safe. And we need to figure out who’s behind this in case they come back for him.”

Brody didn’t respond, but he stared down at the child again, his expression unreadable now.

His phone rang, the sound ripping through the silence that’d settled in the ambulance. “It’s Harlan,” he relayed to her in a mutter.

She watched his face. And waited. But she didn’t have to wait long.

“Find out how the hell that happened,” Brody said through clenched teeth to his deputy. “I want to know who to hold accountable, and I want to know it yesterday.” He hit End Call as if he’d declared war on his phone and muttered some profanity under his breath.

“The embryos are missing,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” he verified on a groan. “They don’t know how long they’ve been missing.”

The ambulance hit another bump, jostling them, and Remi instinctively reached out, her hand brushing Brody’s. He noticed. So did she. Such small contact to produce the reaction she saw in his eyes. Or, rather, what she thought she saw. The disgust. And maybe some heat as well.