She led him to the door across from her bedroom. “You can shower here. Just leave the clothes on the bed.”
His mouth went dry as he wondered whether she planned to stick around and watch him undress. Disappointment flickered inside of him when she moved to the door, saying, “I’ll give you some privacy.”
Sighing, Finn sat on the bed and unlaced his boots. He kicked them off, peeled away his socks, then tackled his wet clothes. He strode naked into the bathroom, where he plucked a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist before going to gather up his clothing. He was just laying them on the bed when a tentative knock sounded.
“You decent?” Sarah called. “I just wanted to get those clothes.”
“Yeah, come in.”
She strode through the doorway, then froze when she caught sight of him. He glimpsed a brief flicker of heat, and it made him want to flex his muscles or some ridiculous crap, just to see those liquid brown eyes smolder. Her gaze swept over his bare chest, causing hot shivers to travel along his skin. His groin tightened, an erection growing beneath the towel around his hip. He shifted, hoping she wouldn’t notice, but her sensual lips parted slightly, confirming she’d seen everything.
His arousal was so wrong, on so many levels. Not only had they just returned from a visit to the cemetery, but Sarah’s daughter was still missing. He wasn’t allowed to be turned-on right now, though in his defense, turned-on wasn’t an uncommon state for him when Sarah was around.
Breaking eye contact, he took a step back, determined to control his body’s response to her proximity. Hop in the shower, get dressed, offer to make her some lunch. That’s what he needed to do right now.
But Sarah had other ideas.
His mouth went bone-dry as she moved closer, an undecipherable expression in her eyes. Holding his breath, he waited to see what she would do. What she would say.
She’d changed into a tight green sweater and a pair of snug jeans before taking off to the cemetery, and the material was now soaked from the rain, clinging to her slender frame and displaying the curvy contours of her body like a damn Thanksgiving feast. Her nipples were puckered, poking against one of those paper-thin bras she’d always liked to wear. His pulse raced as he remembered those dusky-pink nubs, the way they went even more rigid when he captured them between his lips.
“Finn,” she began, her voice ringing with anguish.
Before he could say a word, she had her arms twined around his neck, up on her tiptoes as she kissed him. Her mouth was desperate, moving over his in a frantic kiss, and then her tongue probed at the seam of his lips, demanding entry.
He couldn’t do anything but let her in. His body went taut with anticipation, his erection thickening as she explored his mouth with her tongue and dug her fingernails into the nape of his neck.
He utilized every ounce of willpower to break the kiss. His voice came out in a ragged burst of air. “What are you doing?”
“Forgetting,” she whispered, and then she kissed him again.
Somehow they moved to the bed. Somehow his hands found their way underneath her sweater, sliding up to cup her firm breasts over her lacy bra. Pure, unadulterated desire crashed into him. He squeezed her breasts, then yanked the sweater up and her bra down, and rubbed his cheek against the swollen mounds.
He covered one nipple with his mouth, suckling gently, eliciting a moan from her lips. He laved her with his tongue, nipped at her with his teeth, as wave after wave of sheer exhilaration crashed over him. Lord, he was kissing Sarah. Touching Sarah. He’d been dreaming about this for four years and as she suddenly pushed him onto his back and straddled his thighs, he realized that nothing had changed. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life, his pulse was pounding so loudly he couldn’t hear a thing. She’d always done this to him, made him hot and dizzy and hungry for her. So damn hungry.
Something has changed.
The notion slipped into his hazy mind, pushing through the passion and arousal and uncontrollable need. With a low groan, he gripped her waist and stilled her, putting an end to the seductive roll of her lower body against his aching groin. He looked into her eyes and saw the dazed expression there, the desperation.
She didn’t want him.
She just wanted to forget.
“Why are you stopping?” she murmured, leaning down to kiss him again.
Maybe he was the biggest idiot on the planet, but he turned his head, so that her soft lips collided with his cheek. It was physically painful to move, but he did it anyway, sliding out from under her and stumbling off the bed. Breathing heavily, he stared into her confused eyes and said, “I can’t do this.”
“Why not?” Biting her lip she glanced at his crotch. “I can see you want me. Don’t tell me it’s not true.”
“I do want you,” he squeezed out. “I’ve wanted you for four years. I’ve fantasized about this happening, sweetheart, so many times.” His lungs burned as he inhaled deeply. “But it can’t be like this. It can’t be about grief, or sorrow, or you needing to forget about Jason and Lucy and this damn murder case.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Maybe it’s not about that.”
“It is,” he corrected. “It’s all about forgetting.”
“So?” Irritation flashed in her eyes. “Does it really matter what it’s about?”
“It does to me.” A lump rose in the back of his throat. “You have to want me. Me, Sarah. When we make love, it needs to be because you want to be with me, fully, not just to forget about everything else.”
She didn’t answer, and he didn’t push her. She knew he was right, he could see it on her face, in that helpless, frustrated crease lining her forehead. It made his entire body ache, how damn beautiful she was. All that creamy, flawless skin, her lush cupid’s bow mouth, the damp hair curling at the ends. He wanted to take back everything he’d just said, cover her body with his and lose himself inside her.
Fortunately, his phone started to ring before he could act on that foolish urge.
Turning away, he picked up the cell phone from the top of the dresser, frowning when he saw Parsons’s number on the screen.
“Finnegan,” he barked into the phone.
“Sheriff, it’s Parsons. We may have a lead on the child.”
Finn sucked in a breath. “Tell me.”
“One of my agents just handled a tip from a woman who owns a baby boutique in Grayden.” For once, Parsons sounded concerned rather than smug. “She heard about Lucy’s abduction on the news and said she might have information. Apparently, a woman came into the boutique six days ago, looking, and I quote, ‘extremely agitated.’”
Finn’s instincts started buzzing. “Agitated?”
“Yeah. The owner says the customer was acting really weird and nervous. She tried making conversation with her, asking who the baby clothes were for, but the customer got even more pale. She refused to answer any questions, ended up buying a whole bunch of stuff and pretty much sprinted from the shop.”
A mysterious woman purchasing baby garments and refusing to talk about it? Running out the door? Oh, yeah, for once in his sorry life, Parsons was actually on to something.
“We need to find this woman,” Finn said. “Whoever she is—”
“We already found her.”
He nearly dropped the phone. “What?”
“I sent Andrews and Ferraro to the boutique an hour ago. Andrews just phoned in.” Parsons hesitated. “The owner showed them the security footage from the day in question. Both my agents immediately recognized the customer.”
Unease washed over him. “Who was it, Parsons?”
“Anna Holt. Your deputy.”
Chapter 9
“Anna wouldn’t do this,” Sarah said firmly, shaking her head in dismay as they entered the police station twenty minutes later.
Finn was too wired up to respond. Ever since Parsons’s phone call, his head had been spinning. Like Sarah, he didn’t believe that Anna was involved in Lucy’s abducti
on, but he couldn’t ignore the evidence, either. A nervous-looking Anna had been spotted buying baby clothes at a shop in the next town over.
Why hadn’t she gone to the maternity store in Serenade? Why drive thirty minutes to another town? And why buy baby clothing to begin with? Anna was twenty-four years old, single, still living with her parents. What reason did she have to purchase baby stuff?
It didn’t make sense to him, and as they entered the bull pen, he prayed there was another explanation for that security footage. Only problem was, Anna was out with the volunteer unit, knocking on doors and asking questions about the kidnapping. Parsons had been hell-bent on tracking her down and dragging her back to the police station, but Finn had ordered the agent not to make a single move until he got there. He had promptly thrown back on his damp clothes, forgoing the shower, then waited for Sarah to quickly change into something dry. They were out of the house in a flash, neither of them bringing up the passionate encounter in the guest room.
He would bring it up, though. Not now. Later. When they cleared up this latest mess. When they found Lucy.
Parsons and the three other federal agents were waiting in the bull pen, drinking coffee and talking among themselves. When Parsons saw Finn, he stood up and said, “Why are you all wet?”
“It’s raining outside, in case you haven’t noticed.” Finn headed for his office, over his shoulder adding, “Give me two minutes. I need to change into some dry clothes.”
In his office, he opened the metal locker near the door, ignoring the olive-green sheriff’s uniform neatly hanging inside. He never wore the uniform—it was too stiff and uncomfortable. Instead, he grabbed a spare pair of jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt, then stripped off his wet attire and got dressed. When he strode back into the bull pen a minute later, Parsons was still on his feet, arms crossed as he said, “We need to bring Deputy Holt in, Sheriff.”
“We can’t, not unless we want to spook her,” Finn retorted. He escorted Sarah to the chair in front of Max’s station, then leaned against the desk. “If she has the baby, and I’m not certain she does, then she might bolt if she thinks we’re on to her.”
Parsons’s mouth tightened in a thin line. “What do you suggest, then?”
“We wait for her to come back.” Finn glanced at the clock hanging over the coffee station. “It’s three o’clock. Anna went out with the volunteer unit around noon. I’ll call her and say I need her here at the station, but we’re not going to turn on the sirens and go after her. If she does have Lucy and thinks we know it, she might disappear.”
Parsons offered a resigned nod. “You’re right. We need to play it safe. We don’t want her running off.”
Finn was surprised the other man gave in so easily, but even Parsons had to see the validity of Finn’s point. Not that he thought Anna abducted the baby. This had to be a misunderstanding.
“Do you have a copy of the security footage from the boutique?” Finn asked.
Andrews, the pretty female agent, nodded and gestured to the laptop in front of her. “I just downloaded it. Come and take a look.”
Both Finn and Sarah approached the screen, and three minutes later, they wore identical frowns. It was no mistake. Anna was the woman on the tape, and just as Parsons had described, she’d looked pale, nervous and extremely jumpy during the encounter at the baby store.
Rubbing his chin in frustration, Finn edged away from the laptop. Sarah did, too, sinking back in Max’s chair as she said, “They were blue.”
Everyone turned in her direction.
“The clothes,” she clarified. “They were blue, like she was buying them for a boy.”
“Possibly to throw off suspicion,” Agent Andrews suggested. “She obviously didn’t want to advertise she was planning on abducting a child. Anything pink might have raised suspicion once it came out that a baby girl had been taken.”
Sarah gave a little sigh, an acknowledgment that Andrews had a point.
“Look,” Finn began, “just because she was at the store doesn’t mean that—”
“Uh…hi. What’s going on?”
Finn swiveled his head, smothering a groan when he saw Max in the doorway. His deputy took one look around the room, picked up on the tension hanging in the air, and clumsily repeated his question. “Seriously, what’s up?”
“Just discussing a new lead,” Finn said vaguely.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. Max and Anna were about the same age, and Finn knew for a fact they went out for drinks together on their nights off. He wasn’t sure whether they were dating—he didn’t think so—but he did know they were close. If anyone might be able to help him gain insight about Anna, it was Max.
Excusing himself, Finn moved away from the group and headed toward the bewildered man across the room. He lightly touched Max’s elbow. “Can I speak to you alone for a second?”
Still looking confused, Max nodded. “Sure, boss.”
They headed out into the hall, where Finn got right to the point. “Listen…this might sound odd, but…you’re close with Anna, right?”
Max furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, we’re good friends.”
“That’s what I thought.” Finn chose his next words carefully. “Is there any reason why Anna would buy baby clothes?”
The deputy seemed startled. “Baby clothes? I don’t think she would, especially since—” He stopped abruptly.
Finn’s hackles rose. “Since what?”
His deputy glanced at the floor. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“Max. What do you know?”
“Sir, this is kind of personal. I’d really rather not—”
“Max.” Finn tamped down his frustration. “Why would Anna not have a need for baby clothes?”
A sigh left Max’s mouth. “Because she can’t have children.”
Finn’s stomach dropped like a lead weight. “What?”
“She was in a really bad car accident when she was fourteen,” Max confessed, looking uncomfortable. “She broke her pelvis, and there was a bunch of other damage, and the doctors had to remove her…you know, do a hysterectomy.”
Oh, Christ. Along with the sympathy that flooded him at the notion that Anna couldn’t have kids, the knowledge also made him want to curse. Only a short while ago, he’d seen a segment on the news about a barren woman who’d abducted an infant from a hospital nursery in order to satisfy her desperate need to be a mother. What if Anna had done the same thing? What if she’d wanted a baby so badly she’d decided to steal one?
No, that was ridiculous. He’d always prided himself on being a good judge of character. Anna Holt was a first-class woman. Kind, intelligent, with a truly good heart.
“Boss, I really don’t understand why—” Max’s mouth fell open. “Sheriff, you don’t actually think Anna had something to do with any of this.”
“With any of what?” came a wary female voice.
Both men spun around to find Anna standing at the end of the corridor. In her green deputy’s uniform, with her dark hair tied back in a low ponytail, she looked young and professional. Her strides were quick as she moved toward them, her normally astute eyes flickering with suspicion.
“What’s going on?” she asked. Her voice cracked. “What’s happening?”
Finn swallowed the sigh lodged in his chest. He hated that he had to do this. He’d rather cut off his own arm than cause this young woman any pain. She trusted him. Respected him. And if they were wrong here…
And if she has Lucy?
He heeded the firm reminder. Lucy was the only one that mattered right now, and if Anna knew anything about the baby’s kidnapping, Finn needed to get that information out of her. If she didn’t…well, maybe her trust and respect were the price he’d have to pay.
“Anna,” he said gently, “I’m going to need you to come with me.”
“I did not kidnap that baby,” Anna exclaimed fifteen minutes later, her dark eyes filling with tears. She turned to Finn in accusation. ??
?How could you even think that, Sheriff? How could you?”
Finn’s heart rolled painfully in his chest. In the four years of serving as Serenade’s sheriff, he’d learned how to distance himself during interrogations. It was hard to do, especially when the person sitting across the table was someone you knew well, someone you saw around town and had coffee with in the diner. But he’d always made a heroic effort to keep that distance, to treat each matter objectively and get past the fact that sometimes people he called friends might need to be punished.
But this was unbelievably difficult. This was Anna, for Pete’s sake.
After he’d shown her the security tape, he’d let Parsons take over the questioning, mostly because he couldn’t even look at his young deputy without wanting to clock himself in the face. As Parsons made the reason for this chat clear, Anna’s confusion and wariness had transformed into outrage that palpitated in the room.
“Then why did you buy baby clothes in Grayden?” Parsons demanded.
“It…they were for my cousin,” she sputtered. “Linda. She lives in Charlotte and just gave birth to a baby boy. His name is James.” Anna’s tears spilled over, two rivers of misery that rippled down her cheeks. “You can ask my parents. They’ll tell you it’s true.”
Parsons looked unaffected by her obvious distress. “We’ve seen the tape, Deputy Holt. You look like a nervous bunny rabbit on it. The owner of the store said you refused to talk about the purchase.”
“Because it hurt!”
The outburst had Finn’s insides clenching. There was no mistaking the agony ringing from her voice, and in that moment, he realized that this really was a mistake. Anna’s actions, now that he’d learned of her infertility from Max, made a hell of a lot more sense.
“I can’t have children, okay?” she cried. “Maybe one day I’ll adopt, the way Ms. Connelly did, but that doesn’t mean I’m fine with it. When I see a baby, it still makes me sad. And when my cousin, who’s the exact same age as me, just gives birth to a beautiful little boy…”
She let out a shaky breath. “I was buying those things for James, and the entire time I was in the store, I just wanted to run from there. I don’t care if that makes me a coward, but it hurt.”