Lullabies and Lies (2 page)

Who’d have thought he had any hope left to lose?

“Apparently her specialty is reuniting families, friends who have lost touch, that kind of thing. She’s only had her license for two years.”

“Two years. Still, she could have racked up a few disgruntled customers.”

“Yeah. All the information we have on her previous cases is there.” Decker crossed his arms and propped a hip on the corner of his desk. “Anyhow, as I was saying, since the break-in, there have been several seemingly unrelated threats and incidents. There are notations about them in the file.”

“Phone calls, vague threats.” Griff turned a page. “Some mild vandalism that may or may not be related.” He looked up. “Sounds like whoever took her case files has been using the information in the files to harass her—or maybe to blackmail her.”

Decker nodded. “Now, her child has been kidnapped. Nashville PD is asking for the FBI’s help.”

“So they believe the abduction is related to one of Ms. Loveless’s cases? What about
her
family? The baby’s
father?” Griff flipped pages. “Here it is. Ms. Loveless adopted the infant at birth. Biological mother is a teenager.” He turned another page, and scanned the information. “Is she married? Divorced? Other children?”

“No. Ms. Loveless has never been married. She was a foundling herself. Adopted by an older couple who have since died. I suspect that explains her
happy endings
business. The baby she adopted is the child of a runaway teen she located—one of her cases.”

“Which one?”

“June of last year. Elliott.”

“Here it is, Brittany Elliott, a fifteen-year-old, ran away with her twenty-year-old boyfriend. Loveless’s testimony put the boyfriend in prison.” The missing child’s biological father. Definitely a suspect.

“Any contact from the kidnapper? A demand for ransom?”

“Nothing—that we know of.”

Griff raised his eyebrows at the tone in his boss’s voice.

“The local police lieutenant isn’t convinced Ms. Loveless is telling the whole truth.”

“He thinks the kidnapper has contacted her.” Griff stood, preparing to leave Decker’s office. “I shouldn’t waste any time. I’ll fly out this afternoon.”

Decker rounded his desk and sat down as Griff turned toward the door.

“Griff.”

He looked back over his shoulder.

“Good luck.”

Back at his desk, Griff pulled his laptop toward him and opened his personal database of missing children cases. He’d started it fifteen years ago, using a spiral
notebook and a pencil. Now it was computerized in a spreadsheet.

He filled in the fields. Name—Emily Rose Loveless. Age—six months. Date of disappearance—June 20. Location—Nashville, Tennessee.

He stared at the screen for a couple of seconds, then dropped his head between his hands. He wasn’t sure he could handle another missing child case.

Ever since that day fifteen years ago when his baby sister had been kidnapped, he’d aimed toward one goal—to save as many children as he could. And, in all honesty, to atone. But few as his failures had been, each one had taken something from him, something the successes never quite replenished. Then, the death of the Senator’s son had eaten away too much.

No matter how many children he saved, the hole inside him never got any smaller. Lately, he felt like an empty shell.

Just a few weeks ago, after the Senator’s case, he’d talked with Decker about transferring to a specialty that was less emotionally draining, like white-collar crime. With his master’s degree in criminal justice, and his eight years’ experience, he could work in just about any area.

Now Decker, one of the few people in the world who knew Griff’s history, was sending him back to Nashville. To his hometown, where failure and guilt lurked, ready to ambush him at every familiar fork in the road.

The imprint of Decker’s hand burned his shoulder, sending a clear message. His boss was depending on him.

Shoving aside his feelings, he booked the next flight out and started preparing himself mentally. This wasn’t
a personal mission, he reminded himself. It was an assignment.

An important part of his job was to present a calm, comforting exterior to the missing child’s frightened mother.

He called the Division’s computer expert. “Natasha, hi. Did Decker ask you to run a background check on Sunny Loveless?” He spelled her last name.

“I was just about to call you. I’ll e-mail the intel to you so you’ll have it on your laptop.”

“Good. Thanks.”

He saw the icon appear that told him he had new mail. “Okay, got the e-mail. Thanks, Nat.”

He hung up, then opened the file labeled LOVELESS and began to read.

But he couldn’t banish the question that echoed in his brain and pounded into his chest with each heartbeat.

Why did it have to be Nashville?

18 hours missing

BABY POWDER and the sour smell of spit-up milk.
Ugh. Janie Gross nearly gagged as she lit a cigarette and took a deep puff. Her brand new Lexus stunk of baby. She’d have to get it detailed to get rid of the disgusting stench.

At least Bess hadn’t balked at keeping the kid.

Her old nanny had not been happy about Janie showing up with another kid, over three years after they’d agreed to quit the
adoption
business.

Bess was such a sucker for a baby. The brat would have the best of care. And after fifteen years of Bess keeping kids while Janie made arrangements for their
adoption,
Janie knew for a fact that she could trust the old woman.

She grinned at her own brilliance. Handing over the first kid she’d ever snatched to Bess to rear as her own was the best investment Janie had ever made. Lucky for Janie, Bess’s own little boy hadn’t been dead six months when Janie had shown up at her door that long-ago day with a screaming toddler in tow.

She shuddered. Thank goodness Bess loved kids, because Janie hated them. Maybe they should have gone into dog snatching, she thought with a smile as she merged onto the New Jersey Turnpike and headed back toward New York. Dogs were a lot quieter, and a whole lot less trouble.

But nothing she’d ever done in her life gave her the rush she got from snatching a kid from under its mother’s nose. And she was good at it. Her nondescript features and colorless appearance made her nearly invisible.

She’d never even come
close
to being caught.

Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the ID, sighed and pressed the speaker phone. “Hi, Eddie.”

“Janie, where are you? I thought you’d be back by now.” Eddie’s voice was tight and high with tension.

“I’m on the road. I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

“How was your mom?”

Janie almost laughed. As if she’d ever visit her mother. Eddie was so gullible. He knew how much she hated the woman who had given birth to her but never wanted her, and still he bought her lies about visiting the old hag.

“She’s fine. Said to say hi.” No way was she telling her husband where she’d really been, or what she’d done. He’d panic again, and screw things up even worse than he already had.

He’d just wanted to help, he’d said.

Janie took a long drag and let smoke drift out through her nostrils. Eddie’s
help
was what had set all this in motion in the first place. If he helped any more, they’d be in jail.

He needed to focus on getting elected. Which reminded her—she glanced at the time. “Shouldn’t you be filming those new campaign ads?”

“We’re on a break. I’m sick of saying ‘I’m Edward A. Gross, and I approved this message.’”

“Well, you just keep saying it, and come November you can say ‘I’m
Congressman
Edward A. Gross, from the great state of New York.’”

“Janie? I can’t stop thinking about that private investigator and the client she was representing. Maybe we should meet with the girl. Admit she’s our biological child. Maybe it could be a positive thing—you know, reaching out to our long-lost daughter—”

“No!” Janie angrily whipped the Lexus into the next lane, and a car swerved, its horn blaring.

Why couldn’t Eddie just stick to what he was good at—glad-handing and pandering—and leave the thinking to her? She lowered the window a crack and tossed out the cigarette butt, then lit up another one and took a deep drag while Eddie named all the politicians who had gone on to success after admitting an early indiscretion.

“But Janie, if she
is
one of our babies—”

“Eddie, shut up! You never know who’s listening. We don’t have any kids. Never change the story, remember?”

She’d drummed the phrase into his head for fifteen long years, ever since the day she’d snatched the first kid. They’d fled Nashville that night, leaving everything behind, including their own two babies whom
they’d sold at birth to eager childless couples. It had always been laughably easy to find people willing to pay for a kid.

“But Janie,” his voice lowered to a coarse whisper. “The Loveless woman showed me a picture. The girl is eighteen. That’s how old our daughter would be. She looks like you.”

Janie’s ears burned with rage and a dull, throbbing ache started in her temple. “We don’t have any children, remember? The story?”

She consciously relaxed her face and throat. She had to calm down. If Eddie thought she was angry at him, he’d fall apart. “Go look nice for the cameras, Mr. Future U.S. Congressman. Concentrate on that bright future. I’ll take care of the past.”

She flipped off the phone, pounded her palm against the steering wheel and cursed loudly.

Damn that Loveless woman.
This was all her fault. A month ago, when Eddie had told her about the private investigator who’d shown up at his office looking for her young client’s biological mother, Janie had nearly passed out from shock. Until that moment she’d never spared a thought for the two babies she’d birthed and sold while Eddie was in law school in Nashville. She’d never wanted kids. They were a commodity, nothing more.

The idea that those kids were now teenagers, nearly adults, had never crossed Janie’s mind. If the truth about illegally selling their own kids came out, Eddie’s future would be down the toilet. They might even go to jail.

Eddie had a real chance to win that House seat. It was what he’d always wanted and whatever Eddie wanted,
Janie made happen. She’d worked hard to get them where they were today. Nobody was going to spoil her plans.

The Loveless woman had shown up at the worst possible time.

To give him credit, Eddie had handled her pretty well—for him. He’d lied, told her they didn’t have any kids. But Janie knew how bad a liar he was. Then he’d gone and called that dork buddy of his from law school, Hiram Cogburn. Hiram had come in handy to handle any legal matters related to the baby-selling business, but Janie didn’t trust him, never had.

Spooked that Loveless had found them so easily, and worried about that fool Hiram’s bumbling attempts to throw suspicion elsewhere, Janie had headed for Nashville to assess and contain the damage Hiram had already done.

She’d had no clue what she was going to do about Sunny Loveless, until she’d seen her—with her six-month-old infant.

Even now, the thrill of that moment sent an addictive rush of adrenaline surging through her.

Sunny Loveless had a baby. And babies were Janie’s specialty.

34 hours missing

SUNNY LOVELESS paced the length of the interrogation room at the East Nashville Patrol Sector headquarters, her limbs twitching from tension, her head pounding, her empty stomach cramping from the reek of stale cigarette smoke and old coffee.

Nausea burned her throat. Momentarily dizzy, she
grabbed the back of a chair and closed her eyes until the wave of sickness passed. It was exhaustion—she knew that. Combined with fear and grief and a terrible, suffocating guilt.

She shouldn’t be here, waiting to talk to the FBI agent that Lieutenant Carver had called in. She should be at the operations center the police had set up, reviewing the tips and photos that had come in since the AMBER alert was posted. Or at home, helping Lil recreate the stolen case files that the police had dismissed until two days ago.

She glanced at her watch. They were late.

Not that she was looking forward to going through the events of Tuesday night again, this time for the FBI. Having to remember everything she’d told the police—and everything she hadn’t.

She gripped the chair more tightly and shuddered. Not even the FBI could help her. Not with this.

The note that had been stuffed into her mouth by those wet, gloved fingers now rested like a lead weight in the pocket of her slacks. She hadn’t let it out of her possession for an instant. It was her only link with her baby.

Her baby.
All the horror overwhelmed her again—the attack, the realization that Emily was gone, the sickening sound of that whisper echoing over and over in her ears.

Chew on this, Loveless.

The wooden door creaked open, startling her out of her thoughts. Lieutenant Harry Carver stepped in. “Thanks for coming down here again, Ms. Loveless.”

He moved farther into the room and Sunny spotted a taller man behind him.

The FBI agent.

Sunny gave him a quick once-over. He was a shade
under six feet tall, lean and athletic, with dark hair and eyes. He carried himself with a loose-limbed grace that wasn’t hidden by the crisp shirt and summer-weight jacket he wore, although his face and the set of his mouth told her he was anything but loose.

His jaw was strong and square. His features were even, but a little too prominent to be considered handsome.

And those eyes were as piercing as an eagle’s. She felt an odd mixture of wariness and reassurance. She was going to have to watch her step around him.

“This is Special Agent Griffin Stone. He’s with the Division of Unsolved Mysteries.”

“Unsolved mysteries?” Fear congealed into a cold knot in her belly. “Is my daughter’s abduction connected with an unsolved case?”

“Nothing like that, Ms. Loveless,” Agent Stone said, stepping forward.