Baby’s Watch Read online

  “I cannot,” Ana said, urgently. “He will kill you, and I…cannot bear that.”

  The simple emotion in her voice made Ryder’s chest tighten. Wouldn’t it just figure that he would finally find the woman who made him want to mend his ways only to get himself killed before he’d so much as kissed her?

  “Do it, Ana. For Maria. It will be all right.”

  He wished he was more certain of that himself. He’d never thought much about dying; he didn’t guess people did at the ripe old age of twenty-four. Oh, there had always been the chance one of his risky escapades could have gotten him killed, but he’d always figured he didn’t care.

  And now that he did, now that, amazingly, for the first time in his life he was thinking about the future, a real future, here he was, likely going to die sooner rather than later.

  And painfully rather than peacefully.

  But at least it would be for a reason. A good reason, he told himself as the baby cried again. That was more than he would have likely gotten had he continued down his scapegrace path.

  “Do it now,” ordered the voice, “or I will quiet this baby permanently.”

  Ryder heard Ana stifle a tiny cry. “Do it, Ana,” he told her again, still working at slipping his belt through the loops on his jeans.

  She moved then, following orders she clearly did not want to obey. She tied his hands, loosely, then at the voice’s order, retied them tighter; the man obviously had guessed she would do what she could.

  For an instant her hands lingered over his.

  “Step away now,” the voice ordered.

  Ana hesitated. And in that moment she leaned forward and kissed Ryder gently on his bruised cheek. There was a world of promise in that tiny kiss, and Ryder felt his pulse surge. He would get them out of this, somehow. For the first time in his life he had something he would die for.

  But he was going to do his damnedest to live.

  Chapter 21

  “A loving little display. How touching,” the voice said, the scorn practically bouncing off the walls.

  Clearly he had no trouble seeing what was happening in the darkened room, Ryder thought. He suspected they used night goggles.

  “Touching, but pointless,” the voice said. “Leon!”

  The man, who was apparently more than just a driver, stepped forward, crossing the room toward the voice. Moments later the lights in the room came on. Ryder had barely a moment to register the bare stone walls and floor of a small room in a very old building, because across the room stood the driver and in his hands was a duffel bag. A familiar duffel bag. A corner of a pink flowered blanket protruded from the unzipped opening.

  “Maria,” Ana cried.

  “Don’t move!” the voice shouted.

  A heartfelt wail issued from the duffel, and Ryder’s gut knotted. She was so tiny, so helpless. His only consolation was that she didn’t know enough to be afraid. But he knew she was in danger. His mind rapidly turned over possibilities as his hands worked at the rope binding his wrists, trying to get the proper alignment.

  “How much do you want her back, Ana? What will you do to get her? How far will you go?” The disembodied voice taunted her.

  “I will do anything to get my baby back,” Ana said frantically.

  “Ah, that is what I wanted to hear,” the voice said. “Leon?”

  The man holding the duffel stepped forward. Ana eagerly reached for it, but the man pulled it away. He set the bag down on the floor, then took a lethal-looking pistol from a side pocket. Ryder winced at the unseemly juxtaposition of the weapon and the innocent child.

  Leon held the gun out to Ana. She stared at it, then at the man who held it, clearly startled.

  “Take it,” the voice ordered. “Show me how much you want your baby back. Will you truly sacrifice your noble lover?”

  Ana gasped as Ryder’s stomach clenched. Maybe he wasn’t going to get out of this alive after all.

  And without ever knowing what it would be like to be Ana’s lover.

  Oddly, that hurt more than the thought of impending death.

  “Take it, sweet Ana. Take it, or I will have Leon use it on the brat.”

  With another gasp she grabbed the weapon, her gaze fastened on the splash of pink blanket.

  “That’s better. Now all you have to do is use it. Shoot him.”

  “You cannot mean that.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can mean,” the voice snapped, sounding provoked. Interesting, Ryder thought. He’d been so blasé until now. Ana went very still, and he wondered if she’d noticed the change, too.

  “You expect me to murder in cold blood?”

  “I expect you to do what a good little mother would do. Save your child. Another man will come along for you to entice, seduce. You won’t miss this one for long.”

  Ryder was watching Ana’s face, trying to guess what she might do. At the same time he was working on the rope, hoping the melodrama playing out would give him cover. But for a moment he stopped sawing at his bonds, when he saw a familiar expression cross Ana’s face. The expression he’d learned meant she was thinking, and quickly.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  “Do not question me!”

  Again the snap, Ryder thought. He went back to working to free himself.

  “Why do you wish him dead?”

  Ryder wasn’t sure what she was doing, asking all these questions, but since it was keeping Leon’s eyes off him, he wasn’t going to complain.

  “He got in my way. Now do it, or you’ll never see your baby alive.”

  “What will you do with her if I do not?”

  The voice laughed. “Since she is female, I will train her to do what they are best suited for. And when she is old enough—perhaps thirteen or so—I will sell her to the highest bidder.”

  Fury spiked through Ryder. He fought it down, sensing that was exactly what the man wanted, that he wanted them provoked and angry…and helpless to do anything. He was feeding on that helplessness as a vampire would feed on the blood of his victims.

  “Stop playing with us,” Ana exclaimed. “You are like a cat with a mouse.”

  “Ah, but that is the fun of it, isn’t it, gatita?”

  Something flashed in Ana’s eyes as the voice called her kitten. Some combination of knowledge, understanding, and anger that took Ryder’s breath away. She looked as if the puzzle had suddenly fallen together in front of her eyes.

  She knows, Ryder thought suddenly. She knows who this is.

  And that quickly the entire landscape of the situation, and what had happened, shifted. Because there was only one explanation he could think of for her knowledge.

  Ana’s past had caught up with her.

  “Shoot him now, or Leon will take that bag and throw it in the canal.”

  Ana’s hands shook, but she lifted the gun. As if it had just occurred to her, she checked to see if it was truly loaded. Her face went pale, and Ryder guessed that meant it was.

  She steadied the weapon with both hands. And slowly, she aimed it at Ryder.

  He sucked in a breath, his gaze meeting hers over the sights of the weapon. Tears were brimming in her eyes, and he had the crazy thought that he had to make this easier for her. He couldn’t bear the anguish in those beautiful dark eyes another moment.

  “It’s all right, Ana. I understand,” he said.

  And waited for her to do what she had to.

  Anger, Ana thought, was a very useful emotion. Rage was dangerous, because it made you stop thinking. And she needed to think.

  Gatita.

  Kitten. Only one person in the world had ever called her that. A sweet, gentle nickname that had, in his hands, become an insult, a taunt, and finally a threat. And it had done so before today, in fact, from the moment she dared to question him, to ask for the truth about his activities, and his connection to her father.

  Because she had no doubts; she knew with absolute certainty that her worst fears had materialized. Tha
t muffled voice belonged to Alberto Cardenas.

  Her former fiancé.

  Maria’s father.

  It was all clear now. Maria’s kidnapping had not been a random happening, a crime of opportunity. It had been carefully planned and executed. Not because he wanted his daughter back—he had as little use for women as her father—but because she was his property. And no one stole from Alberto Cardenas.

  She should have known better. Alberto would never accept that his woman had escaped from his grasp. It would be too big a blow to his manhood, and he would take it very personally. He had probably been looking for her, no doubt with her father’s help, from the moment he’d discovered her gone.

  And obviously their criminal network was very good at following orders. She had been a fool to think she could evade them.

  But now there was more than her own life at stake. There was her child, the child she had promised to keep safe, to give a good life.

  And Ryder.

  God, Ryder. He had risked his life for her, and for Maria. And he had come here ready to make the sacrifice, to trade himself for her daughter. Even knowing what would likely happen, that it would probably mean his own death.

  And in the moment when he had to believe she would kill him, he had thought only to ease her pain. To tell her he understood.

  Determination flooded her. She might have been naïve once, but no more. And she knew she had one thing no one else had. Knowledge. Alberto didn’t know for sure she’d guessed who he was. He might wonder if he had betrayed too much, but he thought her a fool and probably too stupid to pick up on it. But even if he did know she had guessed, it did not matter, because that was not the knowledge that mattered.

  What mattered was that she knew Alberto, and knew exactly how to provoke him. She knew, as they said in America, how to push his buttons.

  And push she would.

  She could coax, she thought. Cajole, let him think she was cowed, and would show the proper respect now. He would enjoy making her crawl, she was certain. But would he believe her? She wasn’t sure. And it would take too long. He would toy with her endlessly, and every moment with Maria so close and yet out of her reach was sheer agony.

  Alberto’s hair-trigger temper, on the other hand, was easy to provoke. And since he was obviously already furious with her, she had no doubt that even if she did coax him, the end result would be the same. He would kill Ryder—or make her do it. Then he would kill her, no doubt after reasserting his ownership in the worst possible, most painful and degrading way.

  And Maria would be helplessly caught, destined for that horrific future her own father had planned for her.

  Ana would not allow it. Alberto clearly thought her so useless, helpless, that he could put a loaded gun in her hands and make her follow his orders simply out of fear. So she would use his bad judgment against him.

  “You are right,” she said, as if after long consideration. “You are not a cat. Cats are at least brave enough to do their own hunting, kill their own prey.”

  The voice did not answer, but she heard a hiss as if he had sucked in a breath, coming over the speaker.

  “You are a filthy vulture,” she said, “a carrion eater, letting someone else do your dirty work.”

  “Quiet!”

  Ana ignored the angry command. Ryder’s eyes met hers again, and she saw understanding there once more; he realized what she was doing. She saw him glance around the room, as if noting the position of the two men who had brought them here. One was in front of them next to that priceless duffel bag on the floor and the other behind them, between them and the door through which they had entered. Then he looked at the only other door, the one at the far end of the room, over which the speaker the voice issued from had been placed.

  “You hide behind this—” she gestured at the room “—afraid to even set foot in here, for fear a bound man and a useless woman will be too much for you to handle.”

  The voice swore at her in Spanish, a string of epithets she remembered well.

  She heard Ryder whisper, too low for even Leon to hear. “I’m almost loose. Don’t second-guess. Just shoot.”

  Ana’s pulse leapt as adrenaline shot through her. She didn’t know how he had done it, but it was both of them now, and the odds weren’t quite so staggering.

  “Coward.” She spat out the word, letting every bit of her contempt show. “Do you think your peons will not spread the word that you were too afraid to face a woman?”

  Leon shifted uncomfortably, whether at being called a peon, or at the escalating tension Ana neither knew nor cared. She cared only about the black bag at his feet.

  “Is that why you left Mexico? They found out your woman had gotten away from you, that you weren’t man enough to keep her?”

  “You are dead, puta, and I will do it with my own hands at your throat!”

  She could almost hear the spittle as he shouted the word. Being called a whore again meant nothing to her; what mattered was that she heard the sound of footsteps over the speaker.

  When the door beneath the speaker slammed open, things happened fast.

  The man in front of them turned, startled to see his boss. Ryder, his hands somehow free, leapt at him, taking him down to the floor and rolling. Rolling him away from Maria, Ana realized as Alberto shouted.

  “Shoot him!” he ordered the second man as he rushed toward Ana, his hands outstretched, fingers already curling as if they were around her throat. She wondered that she had ever thought him handsome; he was ugly, his face contorted by the evil at his core.

  The second man hesitated, unable to get a clear shot. Ryder slammed the man who had given her the gun against the stone floor, knocking him out, then, in the same swift move, rolled once more and took the second armed man’s feet out from under him.

  Ana saw it only out of the corner of her eye; she was focused on the man coming at her across the room.

  And on what she had to do.

  Memories of all he’d done before, of what he’d done now flooded her, steeling her resolve and steadying her hand. She looked into the face of evil, and for a second, hesitated.

  Don’t second-guess. Just shoot.

  She shot.

  Chapter 22

  Ana cuddled Maria to her breast, the hungry baby suckling with a fierce need that made her weep. She herself leaned against Ryder, sitting on the floor behind her, both she and her baby in the shelter of his arms.

  “You’re sure she’s all right?” Ryder asked, sounding worried.

  Ana had quickly checked the baby; she did not appear to have any injuries, but Ana would feel better when a doctor saw her and confirmed this.

  “I think so.” She smiled as the tiny fists kneaded her breast. She looked up at Ryder. He was watching her with such a rapt, gentle expression that she felt no embarrassment.

  “I used to watch you, from a distance, when you would get up in the night to feed her. It was…beautiful.”

  Odd how the thought did not bother her, she thought. But there was a big difference between watching someone like a spy, and watching over her. She felt nothing but gladness that he had been there for them.

  Again.

  “I never intended to shoot you,” Ana said, feeling suddenly anxious to be sure he knew that.

  “If you’d had to, it would have been—” he began, but she hushed him.

  “I would not. I knew you would do something, that you would not abandon Maria to such a fate.”

  He smiled then. “Good thing I learned about razor-edged belt buckles in prison. And that the room was dark enough I could slide the buckle to the back to get at the rope without being spotted.”

  “How strange, that if you had not been in prison to learn that, we would all be dead now.”

  He looked bemused all over again, then simply shook his head as if at the serendipity of life.

  She frowned when the cell phone rang, destroying the moment. But she knew it was crucial that Ryder talk to the contact he had pa
ged a few minutes before. When he answered, she heard him tell the man what had happened. She held her breath when he described the encounter that had resulted in the shooting; he had wanted to tell them he’d killed Alberto, but Ana refused to allow it, pointing out that a mother acting in defense of her baby was much less likely to be charged with a crime. His contact apparently agreed, as Ryder repeated for her benefit the man’s assurances that no charges would be filed.

  Ryder explained then what they had found here, not only the workings of the operation Alberto had begun here in Italy, but records outlining the entirety of the operation he had left behind on the Texas border, including names, dates—and most important the location of many of the kidnapped babies.

  Ana heard him make arrangements to hand over everything to a local operative. Then he was silent, listening intently. His faced changed, and at last he said a quiet, “Thank you. I will.”

  He snapped the phone shut, and for a moment just sat there, looking at it.

  “What did he say?”

  “They’re ecstatic,” Ryder said with a crooked grin that took her breath away; she’d never seen him look like this, so carefree. “And I’m free.”

  Ana’s eyes widened. “It is done? He said so?”

  “He said ‘You’ve got a second chance. Make it good.’” He reached out to stroke her hair. Then, gently, he brushed the back of his fingers over Maria’s cheek. “I intend to do just that.”

  Ana’s throat tightened. Soon, they would be busy, she guessed. Talking, explaining, showing what they’d found here. It would take time, no doubt. But she had that now.

  And she had Ryder.

  Ana sighed, and snuggled up to his warmth.

  “I don’t understand what happened the night she was born,” Ryder said, sounding bemused. “But I feel like…”

  “As if she is yours?”

  He nodded, looking as if he were about to blush, Ana thought. She found it impossibly endearing.

  Just as she found endearing that he’d wanted to take her for that symbol of romance in Venice, a gondola ride. She had to admit there was something quite romantic about it.