LITMIR.BIZ

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phone a little tighter. “I’m afraid the test has to be postponed. That’s why I’m calling.”

      After a slight pause, “What happened?” The disappointment in Dom’s voice was tangible.

      “It has nothing to do with the train’s mechanics.”

      “Then there’s something wrong with you,” Alik surmised, his tone full of concern.

      He sucked in his breath. “You’re not going to believe this, but the track has been taped off as a crime scene.”

      “What?” both men interjected at the same time.

      “That’s right. At the moment I’m the chief suspect in an attempted murder case. As we speak, I’m in the ER in Tooele where I’ve just been fingerprinted by the police. They took a blood sample. I’ve been warned not to leave town until further notice. Oh yes, they’ll give me back my parka after the crime lab has examined it.”

      “It sounds like you need an attorney. Alik and I will phone New York as soon as we hang up.”

      Thank God for choice friends.

      “I appreciate the backing, you two. If it comes to that, I’ll let you know. But this is an entirely different situation than you’re imagining. Just hear me out.”

      For the next little while Zane told them everything that had happened. “You should have seen the little guy with only a thin cotton blanket for protection in that blizzard. An animal could have come along. If we’d done that test tomorrow—” Zane was so choked up, he couldn’t talk.

      “Good Lord,” Alik muttered.

      “How old did you say he was?”

      “An hour maybe.”

      “Mon Dieu.”

      “Everything possible is being done for him here, but no one’s guaranteeing anything.” Not even the attractive nurse who’d brought him coffee had tried to paint a rosy picture. That pretty well said it all.

      “How in the hell could the police think you had anything to do with it when you’re the one who brought the baby in?”

      “According to the doctor, more often than not that person is an accessory to the crime or has knowledge of it. So until the police track down the mother and anyone else involved, I won’t be off the hook.”

      “We’re flying to Salt Lake tomorrow, mon ami. Because of the snow, it will probably have to be a late afternoon flight.”

      “There’s no need to take you away from your families.”

      “We’re coming,” Alik declared.

      When Zane heard that note of finality in their voices, he knew there was no arguing with them. In truth, he was glad they had insisted. He could use their support at a time like this.

      “We’ll phone you when we’re in the car on the way to Tooele.”

      He swallowed hard. “Thanks, guys. It means more than you know.”

      Anxious to check on the baby’s condition, he clicked off and left the cubicle for the Infant ICU.

      While Dr. Parker listened to the baby’s heart, Meg charted its fluid intake and output on the computer.

      “This is a pretty sick baby.”

      “I know,” she murmured, hating to hear the words. Dr. Tingey always kept those kinds of thoughts to himself. Unfortunately, he’d gone home and left Dr. Parker in charge.

      He pulled the ends of the stethoscope out of his ears and turned to Meg. “What’s your take on the man who brought it in?”

      “What do you mean?” she played dumb.

      “You have to admit that without prior knowledge, the chances of anyone finding Baby Doe where he did on a night like tonight are a zillion to one.”

      “I don’t understand your point.”

      “His story is too far-fetched to be believed. When it all comes out, we’ll probably learn it was his girlfriend who tried to get rid of it at home, and he suffered a last-minute attack of conscience.”

      Dr. Parker had never been her favorite person. His remark just now alienated her even more. No sooner had he gone out the door than she felt another presence in the ICU.

      “Is that what you think, too?”

      The stranger’s deep, unforgettable voice brought Meg’s head around to receive the full brunt of brilliant blue eyes alive with pain.

      Horrified he’d overheard Dr. Parker’s comment she said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Broderick. Would you repeat the question?”

      He stood there with his hands on his hips in a purely masculine stance. “Your diplomacy does you great credit, Ms. Richins.”

      For a moment she’d forgotten about the name tag attached to the pocket of her lab coat. Her face went warm. “Please don’t mind what he said. At times no one is immune to the stress of the ER.”

      “I could go along with that if this place resembled a war zone. But it’s as quiet as a tomb around here tonight.”

      He had a point.

      “Dr. Parker has three children of his own. I’m assuming it was the baby’s plight that caused him to venture a negative opinion about you.”

      “Apparently it’s shared by a majority of people. Why not you?”

      The pointed question caught her off guard.

      She could hardly tell him it was the haunted sound of his voice, the look of torment in his eyes when he’d rushed in the ER crying out for help, that had decided her.

      “I’ve always considered a person innocent until proven guilty.”

      There was a slight pause. “It’s nice to know I have one person on my side.”

      “Two,” she amended in the next breath. At his questioning look she said, “You’re forgetting the baby.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      “YOU mean Johnny?”

      She blinked. Johnny?

      “I abhor calling him Baby Doe,” came the explanation.

      “So do I,” she said in a tremulous voice. “John’s my father’s name. I love it. Just don’t let anyone else hear you use it. They would jump to the wrong conclusion.”

      “It will be our secret.”

      Though what he’d said implied a certain intimacy, she knew they were just words on his part.

      “I heard the doctor tell you he’s sick,” Mr. Broderick added. “I take it he wasn’t talking about hypothermia.”

      She shook her head. “No. The baby has an infection. We’ll give him antibiotics for as long as the blood culture comes back positive.”

      “What else is wrong with him?”

      “He’s lost blood. That means he’s missing vital nutrients we’re feeding him through the IV.”

      “The guy’s so tiny. Do you think he’s premature?”

      The questions fired one after the other reminded her of a brand-new father who needed constant reassurance.

      “Probably. But under the circumstances, five pounds is a good weight. Until his lungs are more developed, we’ll continue the oxygen to help him breathe.” She bit her lip. “Thank heaven you found him!”

      “I’ve been doing a lot of that for the last little while,” he muttered, his whole attention focused on the baby. He didn’t act or sound like he was going to leave anytime soon.

      “Excuse

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