Santa's Special Delivery. Val Daniels

away from her door and mentally noted a course of action. With help from a few friends in appropriate places, maybe he could find her before any real damage was done, before she was in real trouble.

      This offense, he was certain, had a name. If he had to call the authorities in, they would label it kidnapping. Poor Lori Warren would be in trouble as serious—or worse—than the baby’s mother.

      With all his heart, Andy wished he’d reminded Lori before he left last night that she couldn’t help little Krissie from a jail cell.

      CHAPTER THREE

      “SHE’S probably Christmas shopping,” the pretty young manager told him with a bright smile when they couldn’t find Lori’s aged red Ford Escort in the Building Three parking lot.

      “I don’t think so,” Andy said. The pit of his stomach felt like he’d swallowed a rock. It flip-flopped heavily. “I don’t think she’s exactly one of Santa’s little elves,” he muttered under his breath. “She doesn’t even have a Christmas tree.”

      “What?”

      “Nothing. I’m talking to myself.” Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen a thing in her apartment that hinted she gave a nod to the holidays, not even a Christmas card. The only seasonal thing he’d noticed were those ridiculous holly earrings she’d been wearing. They’d caught his attention because they matched the green of her eyes.

      “Just because her car isn’t here, that doesn’t mean something disastrous has happened,” the manager said.

      He repressed the retort he wanted to make, refusing to perpetuate the friendly argument they’d started in her office. “No, it doesn’t.” If Lori’d had an emergency and was able to get help, she would have called him.