The Mistresses Collection. Оливия Гейтс

Thirteen

      On the other end of the line, Zack’s caller took a halting breath then continued to explain her unhappy situation. When she was done, Zack asked, “Is there a motel nearby?”

      He was given an establishment’s name—she could see the motel’s neon sign from where she stood making the call. Zack said he’d organize a room—not to worry about needing a card or cash—and he’d be there as soon as he could.

      Already on his feet, heading for the walk-in closet for some jeans and a shirt, he terminated the call. He was thrusting his arms through the first button-down shirt he could grab when Trinity’s shaky voice filtered across the room.

      “Zack, you’re scaring me. Who was that? What’s wrong?”

      “That girl. Bonnie’s mother. Her name’s Maggie. Maggie Lambert.” He zipped up while collecting some running shoes. “She has the baby at a truck stop outside of Denver.”

      He heard something fall to the floor as she scrambled out of the bed. “Why? What happened?”

      “I’ll explain on the way. Here.” He tossed her a shirt. “Put this on. Hurry.”

      After stopping at her apartment so that she could change into traveling clothes, Zack called in a favor and organized a private emergency flight to Colorado. They arrived in the early hours of Sunday morning. The predawn was eerily dark and despite her overcoat, Trinity shivered as she alighted from the black Mercedes rental before he’d even shut down the purring engine.

      Huddling into her coat, Trinity surveyed the motel, a rundown building with an erratically blinking blue neon sign. She flinched. “Are you sure this is the place?”

      “Hardly five-star but better than hanging out in the early hours with an infant at a truck stop.”

      But when Zack roused the sleepy caretaker and the man rang through to Maggie’s room—not once but three times—no one answered. Belinda and her mother were gone.

      The long flight from New York to Denver had been nerveracking enough. Now Trinity held her roiling stomach.

      “What do we do now?”

      “Call the police.”

      Trinity perked up. She’d half expected Zack to say there was nothing they could do. But if he hadn’t offered to call the authorities, she would have phoned them herself. She couldn’t rest without knowing that those two were safe. From the set of Zack’s jaw, he felt the same way.

      Moving out from the motel foyer back in the misty morning light, he stopped, found her gaze and firmly took her hand.

      “We’ll find them,” he told her. “We won’t leave until we do.”

      Unable to speak over the tears stinging her throat, Trinity nodded then gazed despairingly up and down the neon-blue-tinged road. Across the way was that truck stop. If Maggie had decided to catch a ride, she could be anywhere by now.

      Zack had found his phone, presumably to contact the police, when a call came through. He frowned down at the screen before pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He paused a moment then demanded, “Where the hell are you?”

      A few seconds later, Zack ended the call.

      “That was Maggie. Belinda woke early and wouldn’t settle again so they went for a walk and ended up back over there.”

      He gestured toward the stop at the same time Trinity let loose that pent-up breath. They were here after all. Thank God.

      Hand in hand, they strode across that road and in through the entrance of Big Bill’s Burger Stop and Gas.

      Inside, the café’s chairs and booths were covered in worn red vinyl. The Formica tabletops shone, the aroma of coffee permeated the air and in a far corner a bereft young woman sat, waiting, a baby carrier perched beside her on the floor.

      Trinity and Zack rushed over. She wanted to hug the girl, tell her they’d been so worried. But the words would sound judgmental and Zack had sounded annoyed enough just now on the phone. So instead Trinity forced a shaky smile and peered down at the baby while her heart leaped and sank at the same time.

      The baby looked so peaceful, wonderfully oblivious to the turmoil surrounding her young, precious life. With all her being, Trinity wanted to lift her out of that carrier, hold her close to her heart and never let her go. Perhaps that was wrong. Bel wasn’t hers but that maternal drive was so strong, she felt as if she were breaking inside.

      Zack waited for her to slide into the booth then followed.

      “We came as quickly as we could.”

      Maggie’s face was drawn and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She looked as if she’d trudged a thousand miles and had a thousand more to go.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to come all the way back out here. It’s just—” Maggie shrugged those too-slim shoulders in her denim jacket “—I didn’t know what else to do.”

      Zack prodded. “Tell us what happened.”

      “I spoke to Bel’s dad on the phone late last week,” Maggie began. “He said there were some great opportunities out where he was. That I should come out, too, and bring the baby. The people at the shelter were nice. We’d talked about me going to college. Getting a degree. But I thought he was inviting us. I thought he wanted to help take care of us.”

      When tears slipped down both Maggie’s cheeks, Trinity felt her own throat throb with emotion. She reached across the table and held the girl’s hand tight.

      “I put together what money I had,” Maggie said. “I left the shelter and called my mom to say we wouldn’t be back. Then I phoned Ryan, Bel’s dad, to set up times and stuff. He sounded…different.” She seemed to look inward before her gaze lowered to her sleeping child. “I should’ve known. I got such a terrible feeling, but I went ahead and bought the ticket anyway then phoned again to tell him what time we’d be getting in. I so wanted it to work out.” She bit her lower lip as her mouth bowed and more tears fell. “He hung up on me, but before he did, I heard a girl’s voice in the background.” Tears were spilling down her face now, curling around her quaking chin. “That’s when I remembered your offer to help, Mr. Harrison—”

      When he interrupted, Zack’s voice was hoarse but also gentle. “Call me Zack.”

      Maggie nodded. “And Ms. Cassidy…She said what a lovely couple you were.”

      Zack blinked. “She did?”

      “Uh-huh. But I already knew that. She had your number, the same one you told me that day when I got Bel back.” A look of uncertainty and fear shuttered over her face. “I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

      Trinity squeezed Maggie’s cool, bony hand. “Of course you are. We’ll make sure you’re both safe.”

      “But there’s more,” she said. “I’ve had so much time to think.”

      Trinity took a breath and waited.

      “You both looked so torn up when I left with her that day,” Maggie said, “and here you are, just like that, after a thirty-second phone call. I know you care about Bel. She’s so easy to love.” Maggie squirmed in her seat then, elbow on the table, she held her head. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say, to do, but I know in my heart that it’s right.”

      Zack prodded. “What’s right, Maggie?”

      A look of irreversible calm stole over her tearstained face. “I want you to step in. Will you adopt my baby?”

      The sensation was akin to having a heavyweight’s glove belt him in the solar plexus. Zack lost his breath, instantly felt physically ill. At that moment, a waitress with a row of silver studs lining the shell of her left ear