His Secret Christmas Baby Read online

  Derrick’s jaw tightened. “It is if we want to make sure she wasn’t murdered.”

  Brianna remembered Natalie’s beautiful face, the tight bond they’d formed as children. She had to find out the truth for Natalie’s sake and for her son.

  DERRICK PHONED HIS INSURANCE company to report the explosion, then phoned Billy Driscill’s house.

  A woman answered. “The Driscill residence. This is Alma, his housekeeper, speaking.”

  “This is Derrick McKinney from Guardian Angel Investigations. I need to speak to Mr. Driscill concerning a criminal matter.”

  “Mr. Driscill isn’t home. May I take a message?”

  “This is urgent,” Derrick said. “It may have to do with the baby who was kidnapped from Brianna Honeycutt’s house.”

  “Oh, dear, I heard about that. How horrible.”

  “Then please tell us where we can find Billy Driscill.”

  “He’s at his cabin on the river.” She gave him the address, and Derrick hung up and reached for his jacket. Brianna was already tugging on her coat and gloves. A blanket of snow whitened the ground, but the flurries had ceased for the moment. Still, the cold hit them as they hurried to her car, and the wind sent the trees into a wild flutter. Branches scattered moisture onto the road so he watched for black ice as he drove, slowing around the curves.

  The road leading to the cabin was a narrow graveled slit carved through the trees, the old log cabin perched on the edge of the riverbank. Smoke billowed from the chimney, and Derrick spotted a pickup truck in the clearing. He cut the engine, opened the door and rushed around the front to help Brianna, but she was already out.

  “What do you think he can tell us?” she asked as they picked their way through the patches of weeds and snow-clumped grounds.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he had a lead about that hospital explosion, but never had enough evidence to pursue a case.” Or maybe he’d known who had done it and covered it up. His son Charlie had always been a golden child, popular and protected by his father who ran the town. Evan Rutherford’s parents had owned half of Sanctuary.

  And judging from the edge in Gage’s voice when they’d discussed the party and that date rape drug, Charlie had had something to feel guilty about or he wouldn’t have resigned from office.

  Derrick raised his fist and knocked, while Brianna huddled inside her coat, staring at the water racing over the jagged rocks. “It’s freezing out here,” she whispered. “Surely this man wouldn’t be so callous as to abandon Ryan in the elements.”

  She turned tortured eyes toward him, and he wanted to assure her—and himself—that no one could be that cruel. But the words stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.

  People could be that cruel. More cruel than she could possibly imagine.

  He’d witnessed the evidence of their brutality on children before. The strangers were difficult to swallow, but the parents—how anyone could hurt their own child never ceased to shock and horrify him.

  “Try to hold on to hope.” He squeezed her arm. “If he’d killed Ryan, he wouldn’t have bothered to leave that note.”

  Despair filled Brianna’s voice. “He could be lying.”

  The memory of the past taunted him. The sight of that small grave on his last case….

  He couldn’t bear to see his own son in the ground.

  He couldn’t deny that she might be right, either.

  He knocked again, and this time, shuffling sounded inside.

  “Hang on to your britches, I’m coming!” Driscill shouted.

  A second later, the door swung open. Derrick had left town years ago, and although Driscill had aged, his hair was graying and thinning, his wrinkles more pronounced, he still had an air of blustery arrogance about him. “What in the hell are you doing up here?”

  “My name is Derrick McKinney.” He explained he was working with Guardian Angel Investigations. “I’m sure you heard about the missing infant.”

  Driscill scrubbed his hand over a few days’ worth of beard stubble that had collected on his jaw. “Yeah, I heard. But what’s that got to do with me?”

  “Maybe nothing, but we need to ask you some questions.” Brianna’s teeth chattered. “May we please come in?”

  Brianna’s body was tense, but she pasted on a smile, one Derrick realized was her attempt to charm their way inside. Driscill responded automatically, his narrowed eyes softening as he waved for her to enter.

  “I have coffee.” Driscill gestured toward the kitchen.

  “That would be wonderful,” Brianna responded. “Thank you so much.”

  They followed the older man to the kitchen where he filled mugs and placed them on the table. Driscill sat down beside Brianna but faced Derrick.

  “How can I help?”

  Derrick relayed the details of the case, ending on his conversation with Gage. Anger flashed in Driscill’s eyes at the mention of his partner. “What the hell? Is McDermont trying to pin this on me or my son?”

  “No.” Derrick intentionally used a neutral voice. “Natalie worked at the high school. It appears that she may have known something about a meth lab nearby. One that might be linked to the past and a group called The Club.”

  Driscill’s lips thinned to a straight line. “There were all kinds of clubs in high school.”

  Derrick bit back his irritation. Driscill was so defensive of his son that he obviously didn’t intend to offer any information that might incriminate Charlie.

  “We think there may be a connection between Natalie’s death, the kidnapping and the explosion eight years ago that caused the hospital fire. Did you have any leads on that case? Any suspects?”

  Driscill took a sip of his coffee as if measuring what to say, but the worry lines around his eyes deepened. “Nothing concrete. But it was the worst thing that ever happened to this town. Everyone in a panic. So many people dead, grown-ups, kids, old people. Everyone throwing blame on everyone else.”

  “Can you remember anyone specifically who you thought might have been involved?”

  He shook his head. “We didn’t have a crime scene unit nearby, and by the time the state guys arrived, finding evidence was a mess. Between the rescue workers and the fire, a lot of forensics was destroyed.”

  “Was there any evidence of a bomb?”

  “Not that they discovered. One of the arson investigators said it was some kind of chemical fire, that it might have started in the pharmacy, and ruled it an accident that might have been related to faulty wiring. The hospital paid out their butts in lawsuits, and the director at the time ended up committing suicide. The note said he was haunted by the voices of the dead.”

  “A chemical fire,” Derrick said, his mind racing as a childhood memory surfaced. He had done a project for history one year, a project where he’d had to study the evolution of the town.

  “At one time there were tunnels and mines within these mountains, weren’t there?”

  Driscill cut his eyes toward him. “Yes. Years and years ago.”

  “But some of them are still accessible?”

  “There’s been rumors of the homeless living in them during the winters.”

  “Those underground tunnels would have been a perfect place to hide a meth lab,” Derrick said.

  Brianna’s eyes widened, and Driscill clenched his coffee mug in an iron grip. “You think a meth lab might be responsible for that explosion?”

  Derrick shrugged. “It’s possible. Think of the chemicals involved, the danger in the enclosed space. There are tunnels below the ground where that hospital was built.”

  “And Natalie could have learned who was responsible,” Brianna commented.

  Derrick nodded. “Someone who still lives in Sanctuary. Someone who knows they caused all those deaths.”

  “Someone who thought Natalie was getting too close,” Brianna guessed. “And they had to keep her quiet.”

  “Just like they wanted to do with us when they set that car explosion.”
Derrick turned back to Driscill, his silence nagging at him. “Did you know about the meth lab, Driscill?”

  “If I had, I would have done something to stop it and arrest whoever caused that explosion.”

  “Not if your son was involved.” Derrick watched the man’s face blanch.

  Driscill pushed to his feet, the sound of his chair scraping the wood floor. “My son wasn’t involved in any such thing. Now I’ve told you what I know, so I suggest you get the hell out.”

  HE STARED AT THE CHARRED remains of McKinney’s SUV, and cursed. Dammit, he’d wanted the P.I. and that woman to be dead inside. The note had been only for show, to lure them closer to the car.

  He had no intention of giving that baby back.

  Stupid fools didn’t even realize that now. Why did Brianna have to adopt the kid herself? Why couldn’t she have let another couple from out of town adopt him? Someone who wouldn’t have brought in the baby’s father.

  Someone who wouldn’t have asked questions about Natalie’s death.

  Someone who wouldn’t be stirring up the town now with questions about the past.

  A past that needed to stay buried. Exposing the truth after all these years would only cause more pain and heartache to the town. It would tear apart decent people’s lives.

  His would not be destroyed. He’d kept his secrets too long. He had to do whatever it took to protect himself and his family.

  Yes, the Honeycutt woman had to die. And so did McKinney.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brianna contemplated the former sheriff’s reaction as she settled in the car and buckled her seat belt. She remembered Sheriff Driscill as being formidable but friendly, and she’d never had trouble with the law herself. Although he had come to Magnolia Manor a few times when she’d lived there as a teen, it was always to question some boy who he suspected had caused trouble.

  Most of the town supported the center for abandoned kids, but there had always been a few who didn’t want them around. The ones who were quick to blame any petty crime or problem on the teens they considered delinquents just because they had no family.

  “Why do you think he got so angry?” Brianna asked as Derrick drove down the driveway from Billy Driscill’s cabin to the highway leading back to Sanctuary.

  “Because we hit a nerve. He has always protected his son, and he obviously thought I was trying to implicate Charlie in the explosion.”

  “Why would he automatically think that?”

  Derrick let a half smile slide onto his face. “Because Charlie is guilty of something, and his father knows it. And he also knows that we’re getting closer than he ever did to the truth about that night. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless Charlie was in this club, and Driscill sabotaged the case or hid evidence to keep his son from going to jail.”

  “And the town from knowing that he was responsible for all those lost lives.” Brianna shuddered. “Do you think that’s why Charlie resigned from running for sheriff? That his guilt finally caught up with him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t imagine living with the knowledge that I’d killed innocent people,” Brianna said. “Even if it was an accident.”

  “Well, don’t feel sorry for Charlie until we get some answers. He may be responsible for Natalie’s death and for Ryan’s kidnapping.”

  The image of Derrick’s SUV on fire flashed in her mind, and the sound of the explosion reverberated in her head. “And for nearly killing us.”

  Derrick took her hand in his. “Hang in there, Bri. We’re going to find Ryan. I know we will.”

  Brianna wrapped her hopes around his words and clung to his hand. She prayed he was right. She missed the feel of the baby in her arms.

  Her stomach clenched as her imagination took a fantasy detour, and she imagined holding Ryan with Derrick by her side. The three of them as a family. The family she’d never had.

  The family she wanted more than anything.

  DERRICK FOUND CHARLIE DRISCILL at the garage where he’d worked since resigning from the sheriff’s department. Apparently his hobby had been tinkering with cars and old man Jones had wanted to sell his business and move to Florida because of his arthritis, so Charlie took over the business.

  Derrick glanced at Brianna as they walked up to the entrance. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Yes.”

  Her bruises reminded him that beneath that sweater, her ribs must still be aching, but she didn’t complain. She held her chin up and followed him inside. The smell of grease, oil and sweat permeated the air. The front desk was unmanned, so he picked his way past stacks of car parts and tires to the garage. The sound of country music wafting from a radio echoed off the cement walls, and a pair of feet protruded from beneath an old Chevy.

  “Charlie Driscill,” Derrick called. “Charlie, we need to talk to you.” He nudged Charlie’s feet with his own.

  A second later, Charlie rolled from beneath the car, frowning as he peered up at them. “What you need? Work on your car?”

  His was too far gone. “No, we need to ask you some questions. It’s about the baby kidnapping.”

  Charlie pushed to his feet. “I’m sorry. I heard about that.” He grimaced as he looked at Brianna. “That guy did a number on you, didn’t he?”

  Brianna touched her cheek self-consciously, and Derrick clamped his jaw tight. “Yeah, he did. And we’re trying to find the baby and the man who took him.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Charlie shrugged. “I’m not the law around here anymore.”

  “But I think you can help.” Derrick produced his ID. “I’m working with Gage McDermont at GAI and I just spoke with your father.”

  Anger and wariness flashed in Driscill’s eyes, then he grabbed the rag attached to his belt and began to wipe his hands. Derrick and Brianna followed him to his office.

  “And they told you to talk to me? Why? I didn’t have anything to do with a kidnapping.”

  “It’s indirectly related.” Derrick summarized the facts he’d unveiled so far, and their speculations about the connection between a current meth lab and one that might have been responsible for the hospital explosion eight years ago.

  Driscill frowned and rubbed his chin. “I still don’t see how I can help. I didn’t do drugs back then and I sure as hell don’t now.”

  “But you were a deputy around here and acting sheriff for a while. Did you ever investigate any kids for drugs, or get wind of a possible meth lab in the area?”

  Driscill seemed to think for a minute. “I broke up a couple of kids smoking weed a few times, but never made any arrests. It was petty stuff, and they weren’t selling. I let them off with a warning.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Up at Taylor’s Ridge. You know how it is. It was just kids’ stuff.”

  “No meth?”

  A vein pulsed in Charlie’s throat. “No heavy stuff or I would have busted their butts.”

  “How about eight years ago? The rumor is that there was a club back then, some group that put together a lab.”

  Driscill stroked his jaw. “There were all kinds of clubs in high school.”

  “Think, Driscill. I was gone from Sanctuary by then.”

  “Please, Charlie,” Brianna urged softly.

  “If Natalie found out about this club and they were responsible for people dying in that hospital fire, one of them might have killed Natalie to keep her quiet.”

  “Killed Natalie?” Driscill’s brows rose. “I thought she died giving birth.”

  “In light of what’s happened,” Derrick said, “her body is being exhumed for an autopsy.”

  Driscill’s mouth flattened.

  “We know Harry Wiggins brought a date rape drug to the party you guys attended eight years ago, the same night the hospital burned down. Where did he get the drugs?”

  The vein in Driscill’s neck throbbed again, the wariness in his expression deepening. “I
have no idea. That was Harry’s doings. He was always a science geek.”

  Derrick narrowed his eyes as a thought struck him. “A science geek?”

  “Yeah, he was only at the party because he brought the drug. We weren’t friends.”

  Derrick nodded. “Maybe Harry and some of his geek friends created the meth lab.”

  “Harry is dead now,” Charlie said gruffly.

  Right. So he couldn’t have orchestrated the kidnapping. “But if one or more of his friends still live around here, they wouldn’t want the truth to be revealed.”

  “Can you remember who Harry’s friends were?” Brianna asked.

  A tense hesitation followed.

  “Please tell us, Charlie,” Brianna whispered. “Whoever did this may have Ryan. And if he killed Natalie and tried to kill me and Derrick, there’s no telling what he might do to the baby.”

  Charlie’s face softened at her plea. “Some guy named Wilbur Irkman,” he declared. “He’s the only one I remember. The guy went to college, but his mother was ill and he moved back to take care of her. I think he’s some kind of pharmaceutical rep now.”

  Derrick nodded and jotted his name in his notepad. A pharmaceutical rep would certainly know a lot about drugs.

  Legal ones and illegal.

  “I KNOW WILBUR,” BRIANNA SAID as they drove toward Irkman’s house. “He was valedictorian, always won the science fairs and earned a full ride to UNC.”

  “Which he didn’t deserve if he was responsible for that explosion and those deaths,” Derrick commented.

  Brianna sighed. “But Wilbur was too thin to be the man who kidnapped Ryan.”

  “He could have hired someone else to. The entire club could have orchestrated this together to cover themselves.”

  Brianna turned to stare out the window. The daylight was waning, the dark storm clouds casting a dismal gray across the mountains. The temperature was dropping again, the wind rattling the trees.

  Her heart clenched. Babies couldn’t talk but they formed bonds with people, and Ryan had bonded with her. He must sense that she wasn’t around, could smell the difference between her and this stranger.