Chapter 2 - THE QUESTION THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
The baby began crying just as Dominic Farrow reached inside his jacket.
I moved before I could stop myself.
I turned my body sideways, shielding the child with my shoulder.
Dominic noticed.
His hand stopped.
Then, very slowly, he removed a handkerchief.
White linen.
An embroidered letter F in the corner.
He placed it on the table.
"For your face," he said.
I stared at him.
"Your men did that."
His eyes shifted toward the bruise along my jaw.
The muscle beside his mouth tightened.
"I know."
For several seconds, the room remained silent.
Then Dominic looked toward the door.
"Marco."
A guard entered.
"Sir?"
"Find out who struck her."
Marco hesitated.
"Mr. Farrow—"
"Now."
The guard disappeared.
I looked back at Dominic.
"Are you expecting me to thank you?"
"No."
"Good."
Something almost like respect crossed his face.
The baby whimpered again.
I shifted him against my chest.
Dominic watched the movement.
"What's his name?"
I hesitated.
"I call him Oliver."
His expression changed.
"Why?"
"Because he needed a name."
I looked down at the little boy.
"Calling him 'the baby' for sixteen weeks felt cruel."
Dominic swallowed.
"Oliver."
He repeated it quietly.
Then he leaned forward.
"Bernie, I need to ask you something important."
I tightened my hold.
"What?"
"Did his mother give you anything besides the child?"
I frowned.
"No."
"Think carefully."
"She was bleeding. I wasn't exactly checking for wedding presents."
Dominic didn't smile.
"Anything inside the blanket? A note? A piece of jewelry?"
I remembered the blood-soaked jacket.
A folded corner.
Something hard beneath the lining.
But I'd abandoned the jacket during our first night on the road.
"No," I said.
Dominic studied my face.
Then asked a different question.
"Did anyone at the hospital call you by your full name before the detective arrived?"
I went still.
Because somebody had.
Dr. Leonard Shaw.
The attending physician who'd taken the wounded woman toward surgery.
He'd called across the hallway.
"Bernadette Collins, prepare the infant for examination."
I'd corrected him.
Nobody called me Bernadette.
Not since nursing school.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Who?"
I told him.
Dominic closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something dark had settled behind his expression.
"Dr. Shaw was paid to be there that night."
My stomach dropped.
"Paid by whom?"
"The same people who wanted my brother dead."
The words seemed to drain the air from the room.
I stared.
"Your brother?"
Dominic looked toward Oliver.
"His father."
My throat tightened.
"Where is he?"
Dominic didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "My brother, Samuel Farrow, disappeared seventeen weeks ago."
One week before the wounded woman arrived at my emergency department.
I looked down at Oliver.
"Then his mother was trying to find him."
"Maybe."
Dominic's voice became quiet.
"Or she was trying to escape the people who made him disappear."
I swallowed.
"And the detective?"
"Detective Raymond Kessler."
Dominic said the name as though it tasted poisonous.
"He used to work for my family."
I stared.
"A police detective?"
"Corrupt men don't stop wearing badges because they've found another employer."
The baby started crying harder.
I bounced him gently.
Dominic watched for a moment.
Then asked, "How long since he ate?"
"Almost three hours."
He turned toward the door.
"Bring formula. Diapers. Clean blankets."
I interrupted.
"Not just any formula. He has trouble tolerating certain brands."
Dominic looked back.
"Tell them what he needs."
For the first time since being brought into the building, I felt a small measure of control.
I explained.
He listened.
Then he gave another order.
"Nobody touches the child without Miss Collins's permission."
The room went still.
I stared at him.
"You don't get to make me his legal guardian by giving orders."
"I know."
That surprised me.
Dominic continued.
"But I can make sure the people working for me leave him alone."
I looked toward the locked door.
"Then unlock it."
He considered me.
For a long moment, I wondered whether I'd pushed too far.
Then he stood, opened the door, and told the guard outside to step back.
"There."
I watched him carefully.
"Why?"
He looked toward Oliver.
"Because if you've spent sixteen weeks protecting my nephew, the least I can do is stop treating you like a prisoner."
Before I could answer, Marco returned.
His face was pale.
"Boss."
Dominic turned.
"What?"
"The men who brought her here weren't acting on our orders."
Silence.
Marco continued.
"Someone used your name."
Dominic's expression went cold.
"Who?"
Marco swallowed.
"We think Kessler's people intercepted the retrieval."
My blood turned to ice.
The men who'd struck me hadn't rescued us from the detective.
May you like
They'd been working for him.
And somebody inside Dominic's organization had helped bring us straight to the place Kessler wanted.
