Confiscated Conception Read online

  Still, it wasn't the possibility of doctored DNA results that'd put that strained look in Jared's eyes.

  "You must think the child is ours, or you wouldn't be here," Rachel insisted.

  He hitched his thumb to his chest. "I'm here because they gave me no choice. All I know at this point is there's a child, and Esterman's people have him."

  "Yes." It sickened her to know that a man like Esterman held the fate of a baby in his hands. The man was a killer. "But why would he do something like this?"

  The moment the question left her mouth, Rachel knew why. God. She knew. "It's because of my testimony, isn't it?"

  Jared nodded. "They want you to lie this afternoon when you take the stand, to exonerate Esterman. If you don't, they say they'll kill the baby."

  The adrenaline and the emotions slammed into her like a fist. She fought to keep her breath level. But lost that battle. Rachel tried to remind herself that it might not even be true. The photo and the DNA report could be fakes. It was possible this was all just a ploy to stop her from putting a killer away for the rest of his life.

  But it didn't feel like a ploy.

  It felt as if her child was in horrible danger.

  "Now that you know, it's decision time, Rachel. I could force you to go with me, but in the end I'll need your cooperation."

  Cooperation? She wasn't sure she could even move. A dozen emotions assaulted her. None good. So many doubts. So much confusion.

  A baby. God, a baby.

  "Rachel, are you sure you're all right?" Detective Miller called out.

  "Don't open the door," Jared whispered.

  He extracted a small tool kit from his pocket, went to the window and proceeded to disarm the security system. That explained why he was wearing a jacket on a muggy spring day. He had to conceal heaven-knows-what to help them escape.

  But the real question was—did she want to escape?

  "Convince her to give us some time alone," Jared instructed. "Lots of time. We'll need it if you're leaving with me."

  Rachel nodded, somehow. And somehow she managed to get off the bed. She made it to the door, praying her voice wouldn't break.

  "I'm okay," she lied. "Jared will be staying until we leave for the courthouse."

  The silence on the other side of the door didn't do much to settle Rachel's raw, tangled nerves. It was obvious Jared didn't want either of the other officers involved in this, and Rachel would go along with him on that.

  For now.

  But there were still too many questions that needed answers before she'd leave with him.

  "Maybe I should call Captain Thornton?" Miller suggested. "I mean, just so she'll know Lieutenant Dillard is here visiting you."

  Rachel understood the implications of that. And they weren't good implications. Miller wasn't a fool and she no doubt suspected something was wrong.

  She looked over her shoulder at Jared. He merely shook his head and continued to work on the window.

  "No need to call anyone." Rachel pulled in a long breath so she could finish. "I just want to, um, talk things out with Jared."

  Another pause. Rachel pressed her forehead against the door and waited. She really didn't want to speculate what would happen if Detective Miller decided to make that call.

  "Okay. Whatever you say, Rachel. But I'll stay put right out here in the hall. Just yell if you need me."

  Oh, she would do that. Too bad it might become necessary. Because she didn't know if she could even trust Jared. Their last months together hadn't exactly fostered a trusting relationship. There'd been too many incidents where they'd frozen each other out. Along with that had come the bitter feelings and the accusations. He definitely wasn't the same person she'd vowed to love, honor and cherish five years ago.

  But then, neither was she.

  During their separation, they'd grown as far apart as two people could get. Heck, they hadn't even contacted each other the entire time she'd been at the ranch house. Yet here he was, right back in her life.

  Jared put his tool kit away and eased open the window. The morning breeze stirred the curtains when he shoved out the screen. No alarms went off, which meant he'd successfully deactivated the system.

  "If you're doing this, we have to leave now," Jared insisted.

  But Rachel held her ground. "And then what?"

  Obviously not pleased with her lack of cooperation, he mumbled some profanity under his breath. "I need to take you someplace safe so you won't have to testify. The courts will almost certainly ask for another trial delay while they try to locate you. In the meantime, we find this child and get him out of danger."

  It was a simple plan. Also a vague one. And it had holes in it the size of the Alamo.

  "You didn't turn this over to the police," Rachel pointed out. "Why?"

  This was one of those times she wished she didn't know Jared so well. His mouth tightened. A muscle stirred in his firm jaw. And a sickening feeling crawled down her spine before he even answered.

  "The person who wrote that letter said the baby would die if we told the cops, and I'm pretty sure there's a leak in the department. A big one from a person who can do lots of damage if he puts his mind to it. I'll give you the details once we're out of here."

  Great. Just great. Her life had just been turned upside down and inside out. Somewhere out there, a child—maybe their child—was possibly in grave danger, and they couldn't even go to the police.

  Rachel debated and wished like the devil that she had more time to figure out what to do. This could easily be construed as the point of no return. Once she went out that window, she would essentially be on the run. A fugitive. But if she stayed and told the truth to convict a killer, then a child might die.

  Jared helped her decision along. "Every minute we waste here, we could be using to find the baby."

  He was right, of course—about that particular argument, anyway. She couldn't be sure about anything else.

  However, when Jared gripped her arm, Rachel didn't argue. Didn't take a step back. She climbed out into the yard with him. Then she prayed, hoping this wasn't the biggest mistake of her life.

  Jared didn't give her time to dwell on her doubts. He kept low, his gaze darting all around. He led her to the side of the house, toward the detached garage.

  "We're taking one of the detective's cars?" Rachel whispered.

  "No. But I need a distraction."

  Looping his arm around her waist, he ducked behind some thick shrubs. He paused a moment and checked out the yard before he continued to the side door of the garage. From the corner of her eye, Rachel saw him try to turn the knob.

  It was locked.

  Other than one single harsh word of profanity, he said nothing. Instead, he rammed his shoulder into it, but when that didn't budge it, he snatched the tiny tool kit from his pocket and got to work picking the lock.

  Rachel's gaze whipped back to the open window where they'd escaped. No sign of the officers. Yet. But they'd come. After all, it was their job to get her to the courthouse. Once they realized she wasn't in the bedroom, the search would be on.

  For months, she'd prepared herself for that testimony, and for its aftermath. A divorce. A new life. A new identity. Out with the old and in with the new. But instead of putting the undercover investigation and her past behind her, she was apparently about to leap headfirst back into it.

  God.

  Was she doing the right thing? Maybe there was some other way to save the child. Some way that didn't involve them going on the run.

  Rachel heard the sound at the exact moment that Jared apparently did. Footsteps. Some movement along the driveway on the side of the house. He reacted quickly. Jared shoved her behind him and pressed her against the wall of the garage.

  She waited. And listened. Even over the thuds of her own heartbeat, Rachel clearly heard the footsteps on the cement. They were hardly more than whispers, but it wasn't difficult to tell where they were headed.

  Right toward them.


  It was probably Detective Smith doing a routine check of the grounds, but if he saw them, there'd be nothing routine about his reaction.

  Jared turned, facing her, and he went back to picking the lock. She saw the intense focus in his eyes. Felt his breath brush against her cheek. Felt the heat of his body.

  But she also felt his shoulder holster, and his weapon.

  That didn't do much to steady her heart. Thank God he hadn't drawn it, but he probably would if that was the only way they could get out of there.

  The footsteps suddenly stopped. She'd seen Smith do a check of grounds dozens of times and knew he was thorough. He'd no doubt be coming around the side of the garage very soon. Too soon. She and Jared needed to get inside, or Smith would certainly see them.

  The lock finally gave way, and Jared pushed her inside and quickly followed. There were two cars parked in the dark, cramped space. He opened the door on the one nearest them and retrieved the remote for the garage.

  "Come on," Jared whispered. But he didn't use the remote. He opened the side door again and peered out.

  "Rachel?" she heard Detective Miller call out, the sound coming through the open window of her bedroom. But it wasn't the only sound. The officer soon began to pound on the door. "Open up. I want to make sure you're all right in there."

  Jared glanced over his shoulder at her and put his finger to his mouth in a stay-quiet gesture. He led her out of the garage, staying behind the shrubs, and they made it to the side of the house. Only then did he lean back around the corner and press the button on the remote opener.

  The noise started almost immediately as the metal door began to lift. Jared didn't waste any time. He tossed down the remote, latched onto her and got her moving toward the front of the house where he'd parked.

  Smith shouted something to Miller, and a second later, Rachel heard the back door slam. The diversion had worked.

  Well, maybe.

  Once the officers verified that both of their vehicles were in the garage, they'd start looking elsewhere.

  Jared opened the door on the driver side of his car and pushed her through to the passenger seat. He peeled off his jacket, tossing it on the seat. Probably so he'd have better access to his shoulder holster.

  Not a comforting thought.

  The key was already in the ignition, and he wasted no time starting it.

  Rachel caught a glimpse of Miller and Smith as they raced around the side of the house toward them. Both had their weapons drawn and ready. That didn't deter Jared.

  "Get down, Rachel," he ordered.

  He gunned the engine and headed for the road.

  Chapter Two

  Jared shot past Miller and Smith and sped along the gravel road in front of the house. His best chance was to make it to the highway and try to outrun the two cops. And maybe, just maybe, those Texas Rangers at the checkpoint wouldn't shoot first and ask questions later.

  Of course, escape from the safe house was just the first hurdle. He didn't want to speculate how many hurdles they had ahead of them after that.

  Or what those hurdles might be.

  Even some serious detective work and a fair amount luck might not be enough to help them find the child—and stay ahead of danger.

  "Are they following us?" Rachel asked.

  Jared glanced in the side and rearview mirrors. "Not yet."

  But he quickly had to amend that. The moment the words left his mouth, he saw the dark gray car barrel out of the garage, coming right after them.

  "They're behind us," he said. "Stay down. The tires are bullet resistant, but they might try to shoot them out anyway."

  "Oh God." She mumbled another curse under her breath. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

  He was asking himself the same thing. Jared tried not to think beyond saving this child that might be theirs. But even if they managed to get the baby out of harm's way and put Esterman behind bars, there would be consequences.

  Huge ones.

  After all, he was essentially kidnapping his soon-to-be ex-wife so he could obstruct justice. The department certainly wasn't going to see that in a favorable light, no matter how good his intentions. When this was over, he'd have some serious explaining to do.

  Jared kept his eyes on the zigzagging road and spotted the Rangers' checkpoint station just ahead. Both men were there. Waiting. The detectives must have alerted them, because the Rangers had angled their car to create a roadblock.

  Without slowing down, Jared veered around them, using every inch of the grassy shoulder, and raced past the checkpoint. As he'd figured they would do, the Rangers jumped into their vehicle and followed in pursuit. They wouldn't just give up and let him leave the area with Rachel.

  "What now?" she asked.

  She lifted her head and looked out the side mirror. Jared pushed her right back down. If the officers tried to shoot out the tires and missed, he didn't want Rachel to become the victim of "friendly" fire.

  Rachel didn't exactly cooperate. The minute his hand was off her shoulder, she slipped right back up in the seat and pinned her gaze to the mirror, and their pursuers. From her soft gasp, she obviously knew things weren't going well.

  He took the next curve, and the other cars made the turn along with him. And worse. Jared saw the detectives drop back so the Rangers could overtake them. One of the Rangers leaned out of the window and aimed his weapon at the tires.

  Hell.

  Jared pushed Rachel down in the seat again. He definitely didn't want her to get a good look at that rifle. With her fear of firearms, she might have a panic attack. There wasn't time for that.

  He didn't slow down. Jared kept the pressure on the accelerator and snaked over both lanes so the tires wouldn't be such easy targets. Unfortunately, that didn't protect them from a quick jab of Murphy's Law.

  "Hang on," Jared warned.

  At seemingly a snail's pace, an old beat-up truck hauling a flatbed of hay pulled out from a side road and directly into their path. He managed to swerve around it. Barely. The car jerked to the right when he clipped the ditch. Jared corrected and then corrected again so he wouldn't broadside a tree.

  He heard the sound of metal scraping and buckling and saw the cause of that noise in his rearview mirror. The Rangers and detectives hadn't been so lucky in avoiding an accident.

  They'd sideswiped each other to avoid the truck, and the impact had sent both cars careering into a waist-high ditch. Everyone looked unharmed, but their vehicles were temporarily out of commission. It'd probably take a tow truck to get them back on the road.

  Jared didn't waste any time. He stomped on the accelerator and got them out of there.

  "We can't follow the highway," he said.

  He sped toward the farm road that he'd already checked out. By his estimation, it would take five minutes to get there and another five minutes to start working their way through the maze of back roads that would eventually lead them to the cabin.

  "They'll set up blocks to find us."

  When she didn't respond, Jared glanced at her. Rachel was no longer sitting low in the seat. Nor did she have her attention focused on the accident behind them. Rather, she was looking at the envelope and the photograph that had fallen out of his jacket pocket.

  "Who is she?" Rachel asked.

  The picture lay between them. The gruesome image that he hadn't wanted Rachel to see.

  Jared checked the mirror again to make sure they weren't being followed. They weren't, but it wouldn't stay that way for long. He hadn't intended to get into an explanation like this until they were someplace safe. Of course, he didn't have a clue when that would be.

  He tried to put the picture of the dead woman back into the envelope, but Rachel pushed his hand away.

  "Esterman's people sent this to you, didn't they." Rachel's voice was ragged, laced with nerves and adrenaline, but there was fire there as well.

  Jared knew exactly how she felt. He'd had the same reaction the first time he saw it. It w
asn't any easier the second time around. "Yeah. It was in the envelope with the letter and the photo of the baby."

  He debated how much more he should tell her, but the debate didn't last long. This was a critical piece of information that he couldn't keep from Rachel. She'd risked as much as he had by leaving the safe house. Besides, he needed her cooperation, and this unfortunately might do it.

  "I computer-matched that photo to the one in her police record," Jared explained. "Her name is Sasha Young. She did time for forgery, and she's—"

  "The surrogate mother," Rachel finished. "The woman who supposedly gave birth to our child." She paused and moistened her lips. "They murdered her?"

  Oh, man. This wasn't an easy thing to discuss with Rachel. If the people behind this would kill a young woman, they probably wouldn't hesitate to kill again. But then, Rachel must have come to that same conclusion. If she hadn't truly thought a child was in danger, she wouldn't have climbed out that window with him.

  "It appears they murdered her," Jared admitted.

  She narrowed her eyes. "Appears? That's twice you've used that word today, and it's starting to annoy me. Cut the doublespeak, Jared. Is she dead, or is this a doctored photo to scare us into doing what Esterman wants?"

  If he hadn't been so concerned over what they were about to face, he might have smiled. Might have. Here, he'd expected the news to send Rachel into a near panic. And it no doubt had. But even so, she was holding herself together—for now, anyway. However, they weren't even close to finishing this.

  "I don't know if she's really dead," he admitted. "I checked the morgue, and there's no Jane Doe fitting her description, but that doesn't mean anything. They could have taken that picture and then disposed of the body so that it wouldn't be found—ever."

  "Yes." Rachel took a deep breath, and another, and rested her head against the seat.

  "I know this isn't easy, and I'm sorry." That picture probably reminded her of her own murdered parents. It was the main reason Jared hadn't been eager to show it to her.