Somebody's Baby. Amanda Stevens

sister. And no one else remembers seeing a dark-haired woman hanging around Labor and Delivery.”

      “But she was there,” Nina said bitterly. “She burned an entire hospital to the ground so that she could take my son and disappear with him. Why haven’t you been able to find her? Why haven’t you done something, anything to put that woman behind bars and bring my son back to me?”

      Six months of grief and frustration trembled in Nina’s voice, and it was all she could do to suppress her emotions. But breaking down wouldn’t help find Dustin. She had to remain calm, in control. She had to keep Sergeant Farrell on her side.

      “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “That wasn’t fair.”

      “I’ve been wondering when it would happen. Your restraint has been nothing short of remarkable.” Something crept into his voice that Nina couldn’t quite define. “Believe me, I’m doing everything I can to find Dustin.”

      She wanted to be encouraged by his words, but six months was a long time. An eternity. Even a mother’s hope couldn’t stay alive forever. She fought back the sting of tears. “I know you are. Please, Sergeant. Just don’t give up.”

      “I won’t,” he promised. “And you hang in there. I’ll talk to you next week, okay?”

      Nina took a deep breath, mustering her fragile resolve. “Okay.”

      As always, when she severed the call, it seemed as if she’d cut away a piece of her heart. No news, no witnesses, no leads of any kind. After all this time, the trail had grown so cold, she knew it would take a miracle to find her baby.

      And as Nina knew from experience, miracles were very hard to come by.

      Chapter Two

      “Grant, I swear,” Vanessa Baldwin drawled. “I’ve never seen a man take to a baby the way you have to John David. You’ve been back from Caracas, what, three weeks? And already you’ve spoiled that child rotten.” She toyed nervously with a pink diamond that lay in the hollow of her throat.

      Grant’s sister was as beautiful as always, but she looked a little more fragile than he remembered. He wondered if she was taking care of herself, if she was taking her medication as she was supposed to.

      He arched a brow in her direction. “So what if I am spoiling the little guy. Isn’t that what an uncle’s supposed to do?”

      They were sitting in Grant’s office at Chambers Petroleum while Vanessa waited for her husband, Clayton Baldwin, the company’s vice president, to finish with his meeting. A meeting that had ominously excluded Grant.

      Since returning from a four-year stint in the Venezuelan oil fields, Grant had found it harder than he’d expected to assimilate himself back into the political machinations of the company. His return had renewed speculation regarding his father’s successor at Chambers Petroleum. As J. D. Chambers’s only son, Grant should have been the leading contender for that position. But four years ago, he’d managed to land himself in the middle of a scandal that had proved almost ruinous to the company and to the family. His subsequent exile to the Venezuelan jungle had been his retribution and, considering the success of the venture, his redemption.

      But in Grant’s absence, his strongest competitor, Clayton Baldwin, had managed to get himself promoted to vice president, marry the boss’s daughter and—the coup de grâce—present J. D. Chambers with his only grandchild. A son, no less. The only Chambers heir.

      Grant stared down at the baby he held on his lap and tried to muster a little resentment. But it was no use. When he looked at his nephew, all he saw was a cute kid with a toothless grin. A nearly bald little charmer who had managed to wrap his uncle around his little finger.

      Visions of baseball games and hot-dog stands danced in Grant’s head.

      “…just can’t wait around forever,” Vanessa was saying. “You don’t have any idea how long Clayton and Daddy will be in that meeting with the Ventura people?”

      “I wasn’t made privy to their agenda,” Grant said dryly.

      His sister frowned. “Oh, Grant. You know I despise this competition between you and Clayton. It just doesn’t seem fair. Why should I be put in the position of having to choose between my brother and my husband?”

      “It’s not exactly your choice,” Grant reminded her.

      “I know, but I can’t help wishing—” Vanessa broke off, biting her lip.

      “That I would bow out gracefully?”

      Her blue eyes took on a repentant look. “I know how much you love this company. You’ve worked like a dog since high school. But, Grant, I honestly can’t see you settling down to run Chambers Petroleum. The day-to-day details would bore you to tears.”

      He glanced at her. “And not Clayton?”

      “He’s a family man now. He has responsibilities. He’s matured a lot since you’ve been gone.”

      And grown into an even bigger jerk, Grant thought but refrained from saying so. He made a face at the baby instead, and John David laughed, waving his arms appreciatively. Grant settled him at his shoulder, so the little boy could look out the window behind them.

      Vanessa’s expression grew puzzled. “How do you do that?”

      “What?”

      “Act so…I don’t know…natural with him. You’ve never been around babies. I didn’t even think you liked kids.”

      Grant shrugged. “Neither did I, but John David and I just hit it off. Didn’t we, buddy?”

      As if in agreement, the baby gurgled and laughed, then promptly spit up on Grant’s shoulder.

      Vanessa jumped to her feet. “Oh, no. Grant, you’ll positively reek for the rest of the day.”

      “I’ve smelled worse, believe me. You haven’t lived until you’ve been in the jungle for two months at a stretch.” Calmly, Grant handed John David to Vanessa, then reached for the baby wipes she put on his desk. Vanessa held the child gingerly, as if afraid he would spit up on her pink suit.

      Grant didn’t understand why his sister seemed so uneasy with the baby. John David was six months old. Surely Vanessa should be used to motherhood by now, but in the three weeks Grant had been home, he had begun to notice a disturbing pattern. Both Vanessa and Clayton talked incessantly about the baby, but neither of them seemed to spend much time with him. John David was usually in the care of his nanny.

      And as if on cue, Alice Becker came bustling into Grant’s office. She looked windblown and frazzled, but rather than letting her catch her breath, Vanessa stood and handed her the baby. “You’re late.”

      “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Baldwin,” the woman said contritely. “It won’t happen again.”

      “I hope not.” Vanessa turned to Grant. “I can’t wait any longer for Clayton. Will you tell him I stopped by?”

      “Sure.”

      To the nanny, she said, “I have another appointment near here, but I’ll take you and the baby home first.”

      “Oh, I was hoping you could drop us at the park,” Alice said, her eyes lowered. “We could both do with some fresh air.”

      Vanessa frowned. “I’m sure you could, but thanks to my husband, I’m running late enough as it is. The park is out of the question. By the time I take you all the way home—”

      “What are you talking about?” Grant interjected. “There’s a park right across the street.”

      “What?” Vanessa whirled, her blue eyes wide with surprise, as if she had somehow forgotten his presence.

      Grant pointed to the window. “Mirror Lake Park is just