Guarding Colton's Child
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Lara Lacombe
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Chapter 1
Where had all these people come from?
Desiree Colton frowned as she watched a seemingly endless stream of people file into the ballroom. They came from every direction, a calm procession of smiling faces stopping here and there to mill about in groups. The noise level in the room rose considerably as the buzz of conversation hit a dull roar. She scanned these new arrivals, hoping to recognize someone, but they were all strangers.
Desiree turned to her cousin, hoping Melissa would know what was going on. As chief of police in Grave Gulch, Melissa usually had her finger on the pulse of the community. But all Desiree saw was the back of her cousin’s head as she walked away.
Strange.
A loud, grating laugh pierced the air, making the hairs on the back of Desiree’s neck stand at attention. She froze, unease melting into a growing sense of panic as she scanned the room.
Where was Danny?
“Danny?” She called out for her son as she began to walk through the room, sidestepping people who leaned into her path. No one touched her, but moving through the crowd was claustrophobic and her chest felt tight.
“Danny!” Desiree heard the panic in her own voice, but she didn’t care. She had to find her son.
The crowd parted and she saw the broad shoulders and strong back of her brother, Troy. Relief washed over her; Troy and Danny were great pals. He probably had the little boy in his arms and was beaming with his usual avuncular pride as he showed him off to anyone who looked their way.
Desiree walked over to her brother and touched his arm. “Troy, I’m so glad to see you.”
He turned and gave her a smile. “Hey, Dez. What a party, huh?” He gestured to the crowd with his beer bottle.
But Desiree didn’t follow his gaze. Her muscles locked up, panic rendering her unable to move.
“Where’s Danny?” He was supposed to be with Troy, but her brother’s arms were terrifyingly empty.
Troy shrugged. “I’m sure he’s around. I passed him off to Palmer. He said something about showing Danny the horses.”
Desiree shook her head. “What horses? There are no horses here!”
But Troy didn’t respond. He turned away, melting into the crowd the same way Melissa had.
Desiree screamed her son’s name, her voice rising above the din of music and conversation. She knelt down, hoping to find her boy hiding under one of the long tablecloths that draped over the edges of the tables. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Desiree’s skin flushed as adrenaline pumped through her body. She had to find her baby. But how?
The crowd moved as one, everyone turning to face her. She tried to move, but was surrounded by a wall of bodies. Desperate, she flailed against them, slapping and kicking in a bid to break through. But her blows proved ineffective, and the people closest to her showed no response to her struggle.
“Danny!” she screamed.
Melissa suddenly appeared in front of her, a stiff smile frozen on her face.
“Danny’s gone,” Desiree said. But even as she spoke the words, she knew her cousin wasn’t listening.
Desiree turned away from Melissa, frantically scanning the crowd for any signs of her boy.
“Danny!”
Desiree shot up in bed, arms outstretched as she reached for her son. She blinked in the darkness, confusion slowly giving way to awareness as she recognized the familiar shadows of her bedroom.
Her panicked heaving gradually slowed to calmer breaths, her body no longer feeling starved for oxygen. She sank back onto her pillow and raised a hand to her forehead. “It was a dream,” she whispered into the still room. “Only a dream.”
Danny was here, safe in his bedroom. They were together, as they should be. Everything was fine.
Desiree knew it was the truth, but the ever-present knot of tension in her stomach remained. Her world had flipped upside down four months ago, when Danny had been kidnapped. And even though her son had quickly been found safe and sound, she hadn’t gotten over the experience. Would she ever? Was it possible for a mother to truly let go of the bone-deep terror that came from missing her child?
Something inside her had undergone a fundamental shift, and Desiree recognized she was never going to be the same again. Some days, she missed the carefree ignorance she’d once enjoyed, that lack of suspicion that now clouded her every encounter with a stranger. Every smile directed at Danny, every comment like “Oh, he’s so cute,” which she’d once taken at face value, was now a potential threat. It was exhausting, living in this hypervigilant state. But Desiree couldn’t seem to stop.
Logically, she knew that the odds of Danny being kidnapped again were infinitesimally small. Really, the only reason he’d been taken in the first place was because Hannah McPherson had been desperate to prove that her granddaughter, Everleigh Emerson, was innocent of murder. The old woman had picked up Danny during a wedding reception at the Grave Gulch Hotel and simply walked out. She hadn’t hurt him in any way; quite the opposite, in fact. She’d taken him home, fed him a snack and rocked him while he watched cartoons until he’d fallen asleep in her arms.
Still, the event haunted Desiree. And, worse, it seemed to be happening again.
Just last week, another woman had tried to walk off with Danny when they were at the playground. Desiree had been talking to Dominique de la Vega, a reporter for the Grave Gulch Gazette. Dominique was working on a story that involved looking in to Randall Bowe, the forensic scientist who’d abused his role to corrupt evidence and frame several people. Danny’s kidnapping back in January and the subsequent reevaluation of Everleigh’s case had revealed Bowe’s misconduct, and Dominique had been pressing to talk to Desiree about the whole thing. She’d finally relented, agreeing to meet at the park where she’d just spotted Randall Bowe skulking about.
It had been a beautiful day, bright and sunny, the temperature perfect. She and Dominique had sat on one of the benches near the playground, so Desiree could keep an eye on Danny while he ran around.
That was when it had happened.
Danny had moved to the other side of the slide, in pursuit of a bug. Desiree could still see him, but her phone had starting buzzing. She’d reached into her cavernous bag, searching for the device.
At that moment, Danny screamed. Desiree looked up to see him tucked under the arm of a woman in a straw hat.
Desiree had jumped to her feet and yelled for Danny. She’d started running to get to her son, dodging other kids and play equipment along the way. Before she got too close, the woman glanced over her shoulder and dropped Danny, then took off running. Desiree had wanted to follow as the woman disappeared into the trees at the end of the park, but no way was she going to risk leaving her son behind to do it. Instead, she’d scooped him up into her shaking arms and taken him back to the bench while she called the police.
Who was that woman? And why had she tried to walk away with Danny?
Desiree was certain she’d seen her once more since the playground, lurking at the grocery store. No hat, but same sunglasses. Once again, she’d disappeared before Desiree could confront her.
Was she being followed? Or was Danny the target?
GGPD were aware of the near miss at the playground. But, really, the officers couldn’t spend all their time looking for a woman who hadn’t succeeded in committing a crime.
Yet.
Guilt and worry plagued Desiree, night and day. Bad enough Danny had been snatched once. But a second time? How could she have let that happen? What kind of mother took her eyes off her child, gave a stranger the opportunity to walk away with them?
“A human one,” Melissa had said, on more than one occasion. “You’re only human, Dez. It’s okay to make mistakes.”
But Desiree couldn’t bring herself to agree. A mistake was forgetting to take the garbage to the curb on trash day. What she’d done had put her son’s life in danger. It was only thanks to the fast-acting work of the Grave Gulch police and Hannah’s gentle nature that Danny was still okay. And, fortunately, this stranger—whoever she was—hadn’t escalated her behavior.
In the end, maybe that was all that mattered. Danny was fine. At twenty-three months old, he was far too young to really remember the events of four months ago, much less be permanently affected by them. That was a gift. Desiree would be dealing with this near miss for the rest of her life, but it was a small price to pay, given how much worse things could have been.
She closed her eyes, wondering if she’d be able to get back to sleep tonight. Sometimes, the nightmares left her awake until sunrise. Other nights, she could grab a few more hours of rest before the day started. Hopefully this was one of those times...
“Mama.”
It wasn’t a loud cry, but the sound of her son’s voice propelled Desiree from the bed. She could tell by his tone that something was wrong. This wasn’t a normal, middle-of-the-night wake-up. He needed her for more than a pat on the back and a lullaby.
She forced herself to slow down before she entered Danny’s bedroom. If she flew in at top speed, it would only scare him. So she gently opened the door and stepped inside, greeting him softly in the glow of his night-light.
“Hey, baby. Mama’s here.”
Danny was sitting up in his crib, rubbing his eyes with small fists. At the sound of her voice, he looked up and started to wail.
“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Desiree reached down and picked him up.
As soon as she felt his body against her chest, she knew he had a fever. And not a mild one, either—the boy was burning up.
Alarm spiked in her belly as she carried him into the kitchen. Keeping the lights off, she retrieved the digital thermometer and pressed it to his forehead. The green light of the display switched to an angry red, and a warning beep sounded.
104.3 degrees.
“Not good,” she muttered, patting Danny’s back gently. He was crying in earnest now, and his voice sounded hoarse. Desiree quickly filled a sippy cup with cold water and handed it to him, hoping he would drink. He took one sip and started screaming.
Her heart pounded hard as she carried him back to the bedroom and grabbed her cell phone. She called his pediatrician’s office, and while waiting for the night nurse to answer, she took him to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under the tap. He squirmed when she pressed it to the back of his neck, but she held it in place.
After what seemed like an eternity, the night nurse came on the line. Desiree told her what was going on as she walked back to her bedroom.
“Take him to the ER,” the woman told her. “You need to get that fever down as soon as possible.”
“Should I try to give him medicine first?”
“If he won’t take water, he won’t take medicine,” the nurse replied. “Don’t waste time. Just go in now and they can give him medication when you arrive.”
Desiree ended the call and placed Danny on her bed. His screaming intensified, but she needed her hands free.
“I’m sorry, honey. Mama just has to get dressed.”
She grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt off the floor—both were wrinkled and needed a wash, but she couldn’t pretend to care. After throwing her hair back into a ponytail, she picked up her son again, threw her phone into her purse and snagged her keys.
“Here we go, Danny,” she said, trying to keep her tone light as she carried him out to the car. “We’re going on an adventure.”
He clung to her shirt, face buried against her chest as he continued to cry. The sound broke her heart and added to her worry. He was so hot—she’d never felt a body that warm before. It was unnatural and thoroughly terrifying.
She loaded him into his car seat and draped the wet washcloth around the back of his neck. Tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped off his chin, and for a split second, Desiree considered holding him in her lap while she drove to the hospital. But, no, that wouldn’t be safe.
Not for the first time, she wished things had worked out differently between her and Danny’s father. It was a time like this she could have really used a second pair of hands to help. But that was not the reality of her life and wishing was a waste of time.
She took a second to gently wipe Danny’s cheeks, then kissed his forehead. Her lips burned from the contact, adding fuel to her fear.
Go, go, go!
The panicked voice in her head urged her to move, and she closed the door and slipped into the driver’s seat.
“It’s okay, baby,” she crooned, keeping her eyes on the image of her son in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the driveway and set off down the street. “You’re going to be fine.”
He has to be, she thought to herself as she raced along the empty roads, coasting through stop signs and running the lights at deserted intersections.
The alternative was too unbearable to consider.
“Dr. Makris, you’ve got a new patient in room five.”
Stavros Makris looked up from the computer screen, where he’d been working on charts. “What’s up?”
The nurse glanced down at her notes. “Patient is a twenty-three-month-old male, temperature of one hundred and four degrees, pulse rate...”
Stavros listened with half an ear, his heart stuck on the boy’s age.
Twenty-three months.
The same age as his daughter, Sammy, the last time he’d held her.
For a brief second, he flashed back to that horrible night when his world had shattered and his life had irrevocably changed.
Bright lights. Urgent voices. And his baby girl, lying motionless on the gurney.
Stavros forced himself to breathe and focused on the nurse’s words, using all his willpower to snap out of his memories and tune back in. This boy wasn’t his child. He could still help.
He listened as she finished her report. Thankfully, he hadn’t missed anything. Years of studying and experience practicing medicine meant that his mind was cataloging the pertinent details even while his heart was shaking off the past.
“Okay, thanks,” he said. “I’ll head there now. Can you check room three? See if the pain meds have kicked in yet?”
“Sure thing, Doctor.”
Stavros got to his feet and started down the hall toward his new patient. He moved calmly but quickly, anxiety pricking the edges of his thoughts and making his skin feel a little tight. Kids were always tough calls, and after losing his daughter... He shied away from the thought as soon as it popped into his head.
He’d spent the last five years learning how to cope with the loss of his baby girl. One thousand, nine hundred and eighty-two days of living with a shattered heart. He reflexively glanced at his watch; in ten minutes, it would be one thousand, nine hundred and eighty-three days since he’d last held her.
Stavros didn’t know why he kept a mental tally of the days. It wasn’t like he was going to hit a magical milestone and suddenly be relieved of his grief. If anything, he’d learned that he would always mourn his little girl. Not only for who she had been, but also for the person she never got to become. The future she’d never have.
He paused at the door to room five and took a deep breath, clearing his mind so he could fully focus on the child inside. This boy was his patient, and he owed it to the kid to provide the best medical care he was capable of giving.
Stavros tapped his knuckles lightly on the door in announcement and entered the room. He was greeted by the sight of a woman sitting on the gurney, rocking back and forth as she held a boy in her arms. She looked up as he entered the room, and when their eyes met, Stavros felt a little shock jolt through his body.
He knew this woman. But how?
Feeling flustered, he frowned slightly as he studied her face, wishing he’d taken a look at the chart first. “Hi, I’m Dr. Makris. What’s going on tonight?” Even though the nurse had given him a report of the pertinent information, he always liked to have his patients, or their parents, tell their story again, so he could hear the tone of their voice and see their expressions. Sometimes, the way someone moved or what they didn’t say was just as important as their symptoms.
“Danny woke up about an hour ago with a high fever,” the mother said. “I tried to get him to drink water, but he refused. The night nurse at his doctor’s office said to bring him straight here.”
Stavros heard the fear in the woman’s voice; it was clear she was scared for her baby. Empathy swelled in his chest. He remembered all too well what it had felt like to hold a feverish child, to fret and worry over every little cough or sniffle. He’d thought his medical training would give him some much-needed perspective when it came to his daughter’s health, but if anything, the opposite had happened. He’d been so aware of the worst-case scenario, of all the things that could go wrong. He’d been the one to call the pediatrician for every little thing, his wife standing in the background trying to calm him down.
“Tell me about Danny,” Stavros said. He kept his voice level and calm, and walked Danny’s mother through the questions that would help him make his diagnosis.
She didn’t hesitate to answer him, and based on her detailed responses, Stavros could tell she was an attentive mother.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s see if your little guy will let me examine him.” Stavros already had a presumptive diagnosis in mind, but he always performed a physical exam to confirm his suspicions.
The toddler’s mother gently turned her son, and Stavros got his first good look at the boy’s face. “I know you!” The words flew from his mouth before he realized he was speaking.
Her expression turned guarded. “Oh?”
Stavros realized he’d put his foot in it, but there was nothing to be done for that now. He nodded. “I...uh...I helped look for your son a few months ago, after he was taken from the hotel.”
“You did?” Stavros heard the relief in her voice, noticed the way her body relaxed now that he’d explained his reaction.
“Yeah. I joined a search party after my shift that night.”
“Oh, wow,” she replied. “That was very kind of you. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I didn’t get a chance to thank all the people who helped look for Danny.”
Stavros waved away her gratitude. He didn’t want to tell her that he’d had to do it—he’d been driven by the memories of his own daughter’s kidnapping. As soon as he’d heard another child was in the same kind of jeopardy, he hadn’t hesitated. He’d jumped in his car at the end of his shift and headed to the hotel, needing to help in some way. Logically, he knew he’d been trying to save this boy the way he hadn’t been able to save his daughter. But at the time, he’d been ruled by emotions and the desperate desire to make a difference. Finding Danny wouldn’t bring Sammy back—he’d known that. But he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he hadn’t at least tried.
“I’m just glad he was found so quickly,” Stavros said, swallowing down the memories of his own tragedy.
“Me, too.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Desiree. And in a strange way, I’m glad to meet you tonight so I can thank you now.”
Stavros reflexively reached for her hand. Her skin was soft, her palm smooth against his own. A tingle danced up his arm at the contact, and his body’s unexpected reaction nearly made him jump back. He was used to touching people—as a doctor, he touched his patients all the time while conducting an exam. But something about this brush of skin was different. It felt personal, almost intimate, in a way he couldn’t articulate and didn’t want to think about.
He cleared his throat and dropped her hand. “Stavros,” he replied, then immediately started second-guessing himself. I’m at work, not a party. He wasn’t one of those jerks who insisted on being called “Doctor” all the time, but while he was on shift in the hospital, he preferred to maintain some degree of emotional separation from his patients. It was a little thing, but absolutely vital to his mental health. If he didn’t draw that line, he’d burn out in a heartbeat in the face of the things he dealt with on a daily basis.
Stavros mentally shook himself. Time to focus on Danny and the reason he was here. “Hey, buddy,” he said softly.
Danny eyed him suspiciously, his eyes glassy with fever and fatigue. Stavros pulled a chair over to the gurney and sat so he was closer to the toddler’s level. He grabbed one end of the stethoscope he had looped around his neck and presented the flat disc to Danny. “Have you seen one of these before?”
The boy extended a cautious finger and touched the stethoscope. Stavros smiled encouragingly. “It’s a little cold, right?” He put the earpieces in place and gently moved the bell to Danny’s chest. A reassuring thump-thump-thump met his ears, the beat steady and strong.
“What a good heart you have!” He moved the disc to the side of the boy’s chest to listen to the toddler’s breathing. “Sounds good, big guy. I’m just going to check your back now.” He slid his hand around the boy, acutely aware of how close he was to brushing against Desiree’s stomach as she held her son in her lap.
After a few seconds, he leaned back and looped the stethoscope around his neck once more. “Heart and lungs are good, Mom,” he said, glancing at Desiree before moving to the next part of his exam. “Think he’ll lie down for us?”
She lifted a shoulder. “We can try.” She shifted Danny, easing him onto his back. The boy began to cry and grabbed his mother’s arm.
“It’s okay, Danny,” Stavros said. “I’m just going to check your tummy.” He moved quickly, pressing here and there to make sure everything was as it should be. When he was finished, he nodded at Desiree and she helped Danny sit up again.
“You’re doing a great job, kiddo,” he told the boy. Danny sniffed, but didn’t reply. Stavros reached into his pocket and withdrew his otoscope and a disposable speculum. After screwing the black plastic funnel in place, he extended his left index finger and shone the light on the tip.
“Did you see that?” he asked. He did it again, clicking the light on and off. Danny leaned forward a bit, his curiosity growing. “Can you show me your finger?”
Danny slowly reached out. Stavros flashed the light onto the boy’s skin and clicked it off again. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “You’re glowing, too!”
The corners of Danny’s mouth lifted in a small smile. Stavros smiled back, his heart warming. Making a child grin was something that never got old.
“What’s your favorite animal, Danny?”
The boy didn’t answer, which wasn’t unusual. He didn’t feel good, he was in a strange place and a stranger was touching him. It was a miracle that Stavros had gotten a smile out of him to begin with.
“He likes dogs,” Desiree said.
“Me, too!” Stavros leaned forward. “I’m going to shine this light in your ear and see if I can find any puppies in there.”
Danny’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t protest when Stavros checked his ears. A quick look up his nose revealed no surprises. Stavros set down the scope and moved his hands to the little boy’s neck, gently feeling along the sides. He felt the bumps of enlarged lymph nodes on both sides, just as he’d known he would.
“All right, now I just need to look at your throat.” He’d saved this part for last because experience had taught him it nearly always ended in tears.
“Can you open your mouth for me, nice and wide?” Stavros demonstrated, but Danny merely regarded him with a level stare.
“Come on, baby. Open up,” Desiree coaxed.
“It’s okay,” Stavros told her. “This is about the time kids decide they’ve had enough of me and they’re done playing nice.” He grabbed two tongue depressors from his pocket and unwrapped them both. He passed one to Danny and held on to the other.
“I’m gonna need you to hold him,” Stavros told Desiree. “Put your hand on his forehead and keep the back of his head pressed against your chest. He won’t like this part, but I promise I’ll be fast.”
“All right,” she said. As soon as she pulled Danny’s head back, the toddler started to squirm and opened his mouth to yell. Stavros took full advantage of the opportunity. He put the tongue depressor in the boy’s mouth and leaned in to look at his throat.
“Thought so,” he muttered to himself. As promised, he removed the tongue depressor quickly. Danny started to cough, and in the next instant, Stavros felt a gush of warmth on his chest.
“Oh, my gosh!” Desiree cried. “I’m so sorry.”
Stavros leaned back and surveyed the damage while Danny wailed in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay. Really,” he told her, seeing the doubt on her face. “This is not the first time I’ve been puked on, and I know it won’t be the last.”
As he spoke, he got to his feet and walked to the small sink in the room. He ran water over some paper towels and passed them to her so she could wipe her son’s face.
“It’s strep throat,” he said, raising his voice a little so she could hear him over the sound of Danny’s crying. “We’ll have to run a rapid test to confirm it, but I’m sure that’s what he has. I’ll send the nurse in with some Tylenol to bring his fever down, and we’ll get that test done right away so we can get his antibiotics and send you home.”
“Thank you.” Desiree’s eyes dropped to his chest, and her cheeks went pink. “I’m so sorry about your shirt. Can I pay to have it cleaned?”
Stavros laughed. “No need. It’s just a scrub top. I’m going to change now and I’ll check on you guys in a bit.”
“Okay.” She turned back to her son and began gently wiping his face. It was a mundane gesture, the kind of thing parents did a million times every single day. So why were his eyes suddenly stinging?
Stavros slipped out of the room before he made a fool of himself. He leaned against the wall and ran a hand down his face, trying to regain his equilibrium.
What was it about this kid that rocked him? He was no stranger to treating children; it was an unfortunately regular part of his job. Why, then, had this particular boy thrown him for a loop?
Because Sammy was kidnapped, too.
Her face flashed in his mind and his breath stalled in his throat. He knew all too well the terror Desiree must have felt when her son had been taken from her. He’d lived through that nightmare himself, after his ex-wife had taken their daughter and disappeared into the night in the middle of a snowstorm.
At least Desiree had gotten her child back.
He hadn’t been so lucky.
The stench of bile and stomach acid burned his nose and pulled him out of his thoughts. Stavros pushed away from the wall. Time to get his head back in the game; he had to change clothes, and there were other patients who needed him.
He stopped by the nurses’ station on the way to the break room. “Room five needs Tylenol and a rapid strep test,” he said.
“Roger that,” the charge nurse said, her eyes still on the chart in front of her.
He started to walk away, then stopped and turned around. “Watch out,” he cautioned. “The kid’s got a hell of a gag reflex.”
The woman glanced up and caught a glimpse of his top. She bit her bottom lip, clearly trying to hide a smile. “Looks like you need to work on your own reflexes.”
“Can’t win ’em all,” he replied. She snickered as he turned back and headed for the break room and the scrubs vending machine it contained.
“Almost done,” he muttered to himself as he carefully removed his soiled shirt and put it in the machine to exchange for a clean one. Just a few more hours until he could go home and be alone with his memories.
The funny thing was, he didn’t want to be alone. A part of him wanted to march back into room five and talk to Desiree, to spill his guts and tell her every detail of his sad story. Of all the people in this hospital, she was probably the only one who had any sort of idea what he’d gone through five years ago. But more than that, he simply wanted to be in her presence. She seemed to give off a gentle energy that he found immensely appealing. And, yes, she also happened to be a beautiful woman. Her dark brown eyes and curly hair perfectly complemented the warm bronze color of her smooth skin, and her full lips seemed to have their own gravitational field. Under any other circumstances, Stavros would have gladly let himself get pulled into her orbit.
Too bad it wasn’t an option.
It had been far too long since Stavros had felt an immediate connection to anyone, much less a woman. After his ex-wife had kidnapped their child, he’d had trouble trusting his own judgment when it came to relationships. He’d never once thought Ellory was capable of doing what she’d done. But something had snapped in her after their divorce, leading her to abduct their daughter in the middle of the night and drive into a raging snowstorm. The accident that had claimed his daughter had killed Ellory, too, so in many ways, Stavros was still searching for closure. At least Desiree had the option to face her son’s kidnapper in court, to see the woman punished for what she’d done. He’d never had that chance, and in some of his darker moments, Stavros felt that death was too kind of an outcome for Ellory.
The machine whirred and released a new shirt into the bin. Stavros fished it out and slipped it over his head, then half-heartedly ran his palms over the fold lines in an unsuccessful attempt to make the fabric look less wrinkled.
“Oh, well.” There were worse things than looking like he’d plucked his clothes from a pile off the floor. Hopefully his patients wouldn’t hold his appearance against him.
The pager at his hip beeped, another reminder that he couldn’t think about the past for too long. He owed it to himself, and to his daughter’s memory, to keep moving forward.
One step at a time.
