He’d expected her to ask, and he turned away from the house to look into Mel’s eyes as he told her. “She was a teacher. She resigned when David came to them. It was important to her to spend as much time with him as possible. Her husband is an engineer. They’ve been married eight years, and have been trying to have a child almost since the start. They’re good people, very loving to each other, and with room in their hearts for a family. They were easy prey, Mel.”

He could see in her face the war between compassion and fury, between right and wrong. “I’m sorry for them,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to know that anyone would exploit that kind of love, that kind of need. I hate what’s been done to everyone involved.”

“Life isn’t always fair.”

“Life isn’t usually fair,” she corrected.

She paced some more, casting dark, desperate looks at the bay window. When the door opened, she shifted to her toes, ready to dash. Devereaux strode toward her.

“The boy knows you?”

“Yes. I told you he recognized me when he saw me yesterday.”

He nodded. “He’s upset, wailing pretty good, making himself half-sick, what with Mr. and Mrs. Frost carrying on. We’ve got the woman calming down. Like I told you, we’ll have to take the boy in until we can check the matches and clear up the paperwork. Might be easier for him if you went in for him, drove along with Agent Barker.”

“Sure.” Her heart began to pound in her throat. “Donovan?”

“I’ll follow you.”

She went inside, lighting to shield her heart and mind from the hopeless weeping beyond a bedroom door. She walked down a hallway, stepping over a plastic rocking horse and into the nursery.

Where the walls were pale blue and painted with sailboats. Where the crib by the window held a circus mobile.

Just as he’d said, she thought as her mouth went dry. Exactly as he’d said.

Then she tossed all that aside and reached down for the crying David.

“Oh, baby.” She pressed her face to his, drying his cheeks with her own. “David, sweet little David.” She soothed him, brushing his damp hair back from his face, grateful the agent’s back was to her so that he couldn’t see her own eyes fill.

“Hey, big guy.” She kissed his trembling lips. He hiccuped, rubbed his eyes with his fists, then let out a tired sigh as his head dropped to her shoulder. “That’s my boy. Let’s go home, huh? Let’s go home and see Mom and Dad.”

Chapter 7

“I’ll never be able to thank you. Never.” Rose stood looking out her kitchen window. In the courtyard beyond, her husband and son sat in a patch of sunlight, rolling a bright orange ball around. “Just looking at them makes me …”