Operation Baby Rescue. Beth Cornelison

over what it could mean.”

      He gave her a satisfied smile. “Mission accomplished.”

      “I hope I haven’t kept you too late.”

      He shrugged. “My mother might be a bit worried about what kept me, but as soon as she hears I was having coffee with an attractive lady, all will be forgiven. She’s been encouraging me to start dating again.”

      A knot of regret tightened in Elise’s chest. “Jared, I, uh … I’m not in a place where I … well, I’m not ready to date. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

      He nodded and raised a hand. “That’s fine. I’m not sure I’m ready to date again, either. But.” He twisted his mouth in a thoughtful moue, and his eyes took on a devilish spark. “We don’t have to tell my mother. As long as she thinks we might be an item, maybe she’ll back off trying to fix me up with her single friends.”

      Elise scrunched her nose in a sympathetic wince and chuckled. “Oh, no.”

      “Oh, yes.” A low, melodic laugh rumbled from his chest. “And let’s just say, there is a reason some of her friends are still single.” He rolled his eyes and whistled. “So the true nature of our friendship can be our little secret. Deal?”

      She laughed harder, savoring the feeling. How long had it been since she had a reason to laugh? “So you want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

      He pulled a face. “Well, we might not have to take it that far, but I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d be my excuse for not meeting Linda-from-accounting or Betty-from-her-scrapbooking-club.”

      She flashed him a sassy grin. “Yeah, and what do I get out of this deal?”

      He leaned back in the booth and folded his arms over his chest. “An occasional cup of coffee, maybe dinner or a movie once or twice.” He winked, and his cheek tugged up in a playful grin. “And, of course, my charming company and scintillating conversation.”

      “Gosh, I don’t know …” She rubbed her chin and pursed her lips as if struggling with the decision, as if agreeing would be a hardship.

      In truth, the hardest part of such an agreement would be not developing any romantic feelings for Jared. He was handsome, kind, thoughtful and funny. Exactly the kind of man she could fall for—if she were looking for a boyfriend. But, as alone as she felt most of the time, involvement with a man who had a one-year-old daughter would be … torture. Anguish. She was bound to form attachments to Isabel, painful reminders of what she’d lost, bonds that would add to her grief when they were inevitably broken. Because Jared wasn’t looking for a new wife. He clearly still loved his late wife. Elise had already made the mistake of falling for a married man, and she wanted no part of a love triangle—even if the third party was a ghost.

      “Wow,” Jared said with a self-deprecating scoff when she hesitated a moment too long, “I didn’t realize being my decoy was such an onerous favor to ask.”

      “Oh!” With a startled laugh, she shook herself from her thoughts and reached across the table to grasp his arm. “Oh, no. I was just thinking. I’d love to have coffee with you again. It’s better than sitting home by myself stewing over tragedies.”

      He gave her a comically pained expression. “Ouch. Maybe I should quit while I’m behind.”

      She slapped a hand over her mouth, laughing softly. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean …”

      Shaking his head, he grinned and slid to the end of the booth, picking up the check as he stood. “Just say goodnight, Gracie.”

      Gracie.

      Though she knew he was quoting George Burns from his old radio show with his wife, Elise felt the blood drain from her face, and her heartbeat slowed. Jeez, she was a mess, if just the mention of her daughter’s name still delivered an instant breath-stealing jolt.

      Jared’s face fell, and he dropped back on the booth bench, reaching for her. “Cripes, I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of—”

      She covered his mouth with her fingers, and his warm breath tickled her palm. “Don’t apologize. Remember—no tiptoeing around each other.”

      He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pressed a kiss on her palm. “Right.”

      The scratch of his five o’clock shadow on her skin sent a ripple of sweet sensation to her core. Inhaling deeply to steady herself, she mustered a smile for him and said softly, “Good night, Gracie.”

      Jared stayed in her thoughts as she drove home, and she caught herself smiling when she remembered his hand-kiss, his teasing, his dark bedroom eyes. Jared had been a pleasant distraction tonight, but as she parked in her driveway, her conversation with Kim replayed in her mind.

      Two babies. Two hospitals. Two stopped hearts.

      And Jared’s muttered curse. That sounds too suspicious to be a coincidence.

      The similarities in Grace’s and the Harrisons’ baby’s deaths rankled, but what did she really know? She was no doctor. Maybe the sudden death of infants was more common than she knew. She’d heard of SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, when babies died mysteriously in their sleep. Maybe Grace’s death was related to that?

      Information. As Jared suggested, she needed to gather some facts before she drew any conclusions that would serve no purpose other than making her paranoid.

      She bustled into her house, a chill autumn wind following her inside. Her black-and-brown tabby, Brooke, greeted her and trotted into the kitchen, winding around Elise’s legs as she begged for her supper.

      “Hey, Brookie Wookie. Hang on. Dinner’s coming.” She fixed herself a cup of chamomile tea, poured Brooke a bowl of food, then set up her laptop. Placing her mug beside her computer, Elise typed infant mortality rates in an internet search engine. Within a few key strokes, Elise had learned that Louisiana’s infant mortality rate of ten deaths per thousand births was higher than the national average. She also found breakdowns of infant deaths by race and region. The statistics, while eye-opening, didn’t provide her the detailed information she wanted.

      She rocked back in her chair, and Brooke took the opportunity to hop into her lap. She idly scratched Brooke’s head and twisted her mouth in thought. Wouldn’t a hospital’s records be a matter of public information? Data on all births and deaths at a hospital would have to be reported to the government, wouldn’t it? If she could get her hands on the records of Pine Mill Hospital, she could compare the information to the state and national average.

      Reaching awkwardly around Brooke to type, she tried a more specific search for Pine Mill Hospital’s yearly data, birth and infant-death totals, but hit a dead end. However the search terms infant death and Pine Mill led her to a two-year-old obituary in the Pine Mill Gazette for the infant son of a local couple.

      Elise scanned the article with her heart in her throat. The baby had died of unknown causes just after his birth at Pine Mill Hospital. Her hand shaking, she hit Print to add the article to her file.

      That made three infant deaths from mysterious causes within a matter of months, all in a small geographic region. Three that she knew of. How many more otherwise healthy babies had died tragically within hours of their births?

      Did she dare contact the parents of the baby boy mentioned in the two-year-old obituary for more information? They could have heard of similar cases, just as she was learning of stories similar to Grace’s. She didn’t want to stir up painful memories for them without good cause.

      As Jared suggested, perhaps her best move for now was to solicit information regarding similar cases. Remembering the online community message board Kim had mentioned at the grief-support meeting, Elise lifted Brooke off her lap and dug the scrap of paper with the URL out of her pocket. When she reached the home page, she created an account for herself and logged on.

      On the first screen, she found a list of the