Billionaire’s Missing Baby (A BWWM Romance) Page 9

  “There’s a kid with the stomach flu in Exam 3,” Marie said. “Lots of vomit. Bring a mop.”

  Theresa groaned loudly, biting her lip. “You’re just being childish,” she scolded.

  Marie grinned. “There’s also a hot, rich baby daddy in the lobby. Which one do you want to take?”

  Theresa rolled her eyes and checked her watch.

  “Tell him I’m off in about ten minutes. Whatever he’s got to tell me, it can wait. And for God’s sake, don’t even think about pumping him for information. Between you and my neighbors, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’ve hired my own private eye or something.”

  “Come on,” she chuckled. “You’ve got to give me something.”

  Theresa waggled her eyebrows as she headed for the exam room door. “Maybe later. I’d have to have something to give you first.”

  “You said later last time,” Marie whined like a child being denied a treat. “Something that hot, and you seriously want me to believe you’re not tapping it?”

  Theresa stopped walking and abruptly turned to face her again. “To tell the truth, that’s the last thing on my mind at this point,” she admitted. “Adam’s P.I. is looking for traces of this Maggie woman, who we think has our baby, and he’s been trying to prove that James fabricated the whole thing. Only… James hasn’t left a paper trail to prove it. If anything, the paper trail gives the tabloid story credibility. Right now there’s a three-week-old girl out there who was literally born just to make her father lose everything. I’d tell you more if I knew more, Marie. Promise.”

  Regret was visible on her face as Marie bit her lip. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. How have you been holding up?”

  “As best I can,” Theresa shrugged, waving her off. “Of course I want to just run out there and start shaking Adam until information falls out, but I’m determined not to do anything of the sort, you know? But, hey, how much more could he have found out anyway? We’ve only texted each other about three times already today.”

  “Yeah, so I’ve noticed,” Marie commented.

  “Besides, if he hasn’t got anything, the man is just going to start apologizing all over again,” Theresa grumbled. “I’m beginning to think ‘sorry’ is the strongest word in his vocabulary.”

  “Oh, come on, that’s cruel to say,” Marie scolded her. “The man is trying pretty hard to make it clear to you that he cares. And not just about the baby, either. I don’t know of a man anywhere who would text that much or find so many excuses to come to the clinic so often if it wasn’t because he wanted to be near you.”

  Theresa snorted. “Just a pathetic attempt to make sure I’m alright. He’s only doing it because he feels guilty, I’m sure. But you’re right, though. He’s trying his best to fix this thing, and I’m trying to be sympathetic to it, but sometimes it’s not easy.”

  Marie pat her on the shoulder. “I know, honey. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, but you know, this whole story is kind of romantic, too.”

  “Romantic?” she scoffed. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, look at it this way,” Marie explained. “You’ve been without a family your whole life. And I know this situation isn’t exactly ideal, but maybe this was fate stepping in to give you what you deserve.”

  Theresa smiled despite herself, and realized to her horror that her eyes were prickling with tears. “I just want her back, you know?”

  “Don’t you worry,” Marie said as she hugged her tightly. “I’ll go keep your baby daddy entertained. You go deal with the puke.”

  Theresa laughed as the woman winked at her and grinned mischievously as she walked away. She ducked into the exam room, dabbing the tears away and squaring her shoulders, once again ready to deal with her day.

  ***

  Once she had finished up with the puke, Theresa was more than ready to call it a day. She caught up with Adam standing in the lobby. He looked just as out of place there as he did the first time she’d seen him, when she was still pregnant. The only difference this time was the expression on his face.

  His hands were in his pockets, and he gazed at her with a look of embarrassment. For a second, she imagined him ten or fifteen years younger with that expression, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth guiltily in front of a broken window. She was filled with the urge to smooth back a tuft of his hair that was just visible on his forehead. She squashed it.

  “Adam, hey,” she greeted.

  “Hey, there,” he replied nervously.

  “What’s up?” she asked. She didn’t really want to play host to his guilt right now, especially while he was kind of looking so adorable, but she could already tell there was something on his mind. “Did Chris find something?”

  Adam let out a slow, shaky breath. “I think I should just make this quick,” he said. “He didn’t exactly find something, no, but they do think it’s potentially good news. As far as they’re aware, Maggie hasn’t been through any of the major checkpoints for international travel during the past week. That means she’s got to still be in the country.”

  “I hope that news wasn’t your way of making me feel better,” Theresa replied. “Because until you said that, the thought of the woman taking our daughter out of the country hadn’t even crossed my mind. I don’t suppose they have anything a bit more concrete?”

  “Um, yeah, they do, actually,” he answered, rubbing at the back of his neck. “That’s where it gets a bit… interesting.”

  “Interesting how?”

  Adam flushed. “There were some bonds taken out of my father’s account last week to the tune of about thirty thousand dollars. We thought it may have been money my brother used to pay Maggie to look after the baby.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  “No, it was traced to a loan shark. Some lowlife, no-name drug pusher,” he explained. “But he does have some pretty impressive connections.”

  Theresa had a visceral flashback, a memory of a tiny apartment with grey carpets long since worn down to nothing. Baby Louis heavy in her arms while her mother watched Jeopardy with a glassy expression. A plastic smell permeated the air. Oh God. No. Please.

  She didn't know she’d spoken aloud until Adam reached for her hand. He hesitated before dropping the gesture, his fingers barely brushing across hers. Still, it was somehow warm and comforting.

  “The baby wasn’t there,” he reassured her. “The guy didn’t even know anything about a baby. He said James owes them a bunch of money. That he said he had a big deal coming through. That he’d planned a way to grab my share of the inheritance.”

  Theresa's expression hardened. “By giving you some fake lovechild?”

  “Basically,” Adam winced.

  “And your brother?”

  “Still missing,” he told her as he stroked his chin. “I suppose I shouldn’t have threatened him like that. I should have… I don’t know, took a less aggressive approach to the matter.”

  Theresa shook her head, instinctively protective. “You were angry. I would have done the same.”

  “No you wouldn’t have,” he sighed. “You’re probably great in an emotional crisis. I didn’t exactly have the home training for emotional confrontations.”

  Theresa laughed, the bitter memories of the foster homes mingling with group home living, along with her mother’s disinterest, churning to the surface. “Neither did I.”

  Adam raked a hand over his face and closed his eyes. She could see that he was exhausted, and it was hard to resist the urge to comfort him.

  “I’ve been talking to my dad,” he sighed. “He’s not doing so well, so I’ve mostly been shielding him from all of this as much as I can. As far as he knows James is just on a major bender somewhere. It’s a lot better than the alternative of letting him know what’s really going on. Sometimes the man is still his usual self, sharp as a tack, but he’s getting hazy days a lot more often.”

  “That’s too bad,” Theresa said, frowning slightly.

  “Not
so bad,” he said. “The other day while he was babbling, I heard him say something… one of my mother’s nicknames. He never talks about her, and when I asked him about it he got angry. Really angry. I went into James’ study. That nickname is one of the computer passwords, and it connects my brother illegally to the company server. That’s how he’s been taking the money, in small amounts, and putting it into an account labeled ‘Prodigal Son.’ The first two draws were big ones.”

  He handed her a file he’d been holding, showing the amounts.

  “Those are the exact amounts of the surrogacy payments for the baby,” Theresa noted excitedly.

  “Indeed they are,” he added, their fingers brushing together as he moved to go down the list of what she could only assume were smaller payments to him. Five thousand, ten thousand, seven thousand. Her head swam thinking about how much money Adam must see in a day if those amounts were ‘small.’

  “All of the payments go into the same account,” he went on to explain. “An unlabeled checking account withdrawing from a small firm set somewhere in the Nevada desert.”

  “You said your brother owed money to loan sharks,” Theresa pointed out. “Maybe a casino? Gambling debts on top of everything else?”

  “I thought of that,” he said, shaking his head. “My brother associates with mobsters and drug lords, but most of his own business dealings are clean. A gambling debt might explain a lot, though, so I called the bank.” Adam grinned, looking a little bit embarrassed and boyish, but also quite charming. “I pretended to be an employee of my brother’s ‘company’ checking on some deposits.”

  Their eyes met, his twinkling impishly, and hers suitably impressed. He was still holding the folder so she could see it, bringing their bodies into a closer proximity as a result. The urge to wrap him into her arms was almost overpowering, but Theresa squashed it. They were supposed to be talking about business now, not getting affectionate in the middle of her workplace.

  “Chris and I figured out it’s a dummy corp. The actual account is offshore, and the money is rerouted through some big bank in the Cayman Islands, then ends up in a tiny community just outside Vegas.” His eyebrows raised, and he leaned in slightly. “So, what do you say we take a little road trip? Figure out exactly what my little brother is hiding out there in the desert?”

  Theresa bit her lip as the subtle scent of his aftershave wafted over her. She didn’t think they should be standing close enough for her to smell his aftershave, but not one of her muscles would allow her to move away this time. “You mean now?”

  “Theresa, come on,” he said. “There’s no better time. My brother’s been planning this thing for almost a year. He had a whole secret account set up. Either he’s in Nevada, or the baby is in Nevada, and in either case that’s the only place we’re going to find any answers, don’t you think?”

  Adam reached around her, gripping at her arm and gently steering her out of the crowded clinic. Theresa didn’t object as he led her toward his car, except to say, “My bike?”

  “I’ll send Frank to take it back to your place,” he replied dismissively. “Listen, James has finally left enough of a paper trail for us to follow. I don’t want to lose it, and I don’t know what kind of surveillance he might have set up on it, either. We can’t waste any time on this.”

  “Can’t we just call the police? Have them handle it?”

  “And tell them what? That the son of a business mogul has a secret bank account that may or may not have something to do with his brother’s lovechild?”

  Adam pulled her closer to his side and the heat between them somehow seemed to intensify.

  “Some of us can’t afford to just pick up and leave our jobs whenever we need to,” Theresa said, slightly breathless as he reached around her to open her door. Tears welled up in her eyes, and his expression filled with concern as he gently wiped them away.

  “I need you there,” he told her. “You’re her biological mom. If I go, I’m just some child-snatcher.”

  “But I gave her up!” Theresa wailed.

  “I meant what I said when this all started,” he reminded her. “Whatever happens, I’ll look after you and our baby. So you can afford to take the time, okay? Let’s see if we can’t bring our baby home.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  James cradled his cell phone against his ear and rolled his eyes. This was the third time in as many hours that Maggie had called with her new number, and he already knew what she was going to say. She would be bleating at him for more money. She was as bad as that pair of sharks who were hunting for him, but since she wasn’t the one who could break his teeth or rearrange his insides, her cries he felt he could comfortably ignore.

  ‘The baby needs this, the baby needs that. The baby needs her uncle.’ What a laugh. Every time he saw that kid he thought it was going to ask to suck on his bank account.

  “All I ever do is pay for the little brat, Maggie. Trust me, she’ll know who I am,” he’d told her the last time.

  That was a bit of an exaggeration. In truth, he was hoping the kid would forget all about him, wherever she ended up. Maggie had actually started calling her Annie, which was only funny about the first fifty-six times you heard the story. He was so getting tired of feeding and clothing and housing her.

  He considered ignoring the call, but sometimes, he’d found, addressing it directly was more effective. Hence, he angrily punched the talk button and growled out, “What the hell do you want now?”

  “I-I-I need money for diapers,” Maggie stuttered. She sounded terrified.

  Good, he thought. That was a good start. “Jesus Christ, all the money I’m paying you, and you need money for diapers?”

  “You want me to take it out of my salary?”

  “Are you that stupid? You want me to spell it out for you, really? Yes, I want you to take it out of your salary. God, you and that kid are bleeding me dry. I told you, once I can take her back to California I’ll be able to reimburse you.”

  Just as soon as I pay off the sharks on my tail, he mentally amended.

  There was a long silence. For a moment, he thought she’d hung up, which would have been a blessed relief, and he moved to do the same.

  “It’s just that I’ve already paid for so much…" she trailed off in a mumble. He groaned loudly. “And I’m worried about her,” she hurried on, clearly terrified of what he’d say but determined to speak her mind. “She’s been sick, and how am I supposed to explain that she has no medical records? What am I supposed to do?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

  “Look, I’ll figure this out. My father has something set aside. He won’t notice it’s gone. Do you think you can keep the kid alive and quiet for another couple of days?” He kept his voice at a hard edge, no-nonsense and controlled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding embarrassed now. “We’ll make do with what we have for now. It’s just that I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to do this. And I worry about her, you know?”

  James rolled his eyes. Women and babies. It was kind of pathetic. “I know,” he replied in a soothing tone. “But I have things to worry about too, and I can’t have you constantly pestering me to look after her like this. I’ve hired you to do a job. I want it done right.”

  “Oh.” Something shifted in her voice, and when she spoke again it was properly shamed. “Right. Of course. I’ll… we’ll do what we can with what we have. And obviously you or your brother will compensate when you can.”

  “Right.” He clicked off without further comment.

  Admittedly, he thought, as he rifled his way through the banks he’d listed on his phone, it hadn’t exactly been a fool-proof plan. However, the important parts had all gone off without a hitch.

  Theresa whoever-she-was was in the paper as a money-grubber, tragic backstory aside. Frankly, that couldn't have worked out better for him, either. His brother was now in deep with their father for polluting the gene pool, and with
the public eye for child abandonment.

  Granted, he hadn’t banked on Maggie having the loud mouth that she did, but when the time came for compensation? All he’d have to do was remind her of her part in the kidnapping scheme and she’d basically be all his. Hell, he might even be able to use her for some other purpose once all of this went down.

  He grinned to himself. His father had moved around some more of the inheritance funds. A few key taps and—

  His thoughts were interrupted by a text message reading:

  Sorry, little brother…

  The words flashed a bright white on black background, with a loud and garish alarm to match. It was so loud the white-haired businessman sitting close by glared at him. He glared back and pocketed his phone, mind whirring.

  Adam had gotten past his firewalls. He wasn’t very good at hacking, so he must have been feeling pretty motivated. James shook his head. God only knew what would come out if his brother went digging deep enough for answers.

  He texted to Maggie’s number:

  Change of plans. Looks like you’ll have to move again. Let me know when you find a place to stay.

  ***

  Theresa had thought Adam was likely to be a top-forties kind of a guy, and she would have felt a bit awkward if he’d tried to be accommodating and ask her what she wanted to listen to. He turned on the news, though, and didn’t look at her for the first twenty minutes of the ride.

  Their first stop was at a gas station on the way to the highway. She put a hand on his shoulder, then flinched as he turned to look at her in surprise.

  “Where are you going?” she wanted to know.

  “Road trip,” he reminded her with a shrug and a casual smile. “We’ll need drinks and snacks at the very least, don’t you think?”