Though he tried to focus on the crime scene alone, something kept drawing his attention back to the ambulance where Pilar stood. This time she wasn’t paying attention to him at all. She only had eyes for the baby who was giving the EMT hearing damage as he tried to get a heart rate.
Zach figured from the baby’s healthy cry that he was going to be fine, but Pilar’s expression was stark and anguished. Was that just her empathy for the baby who had lost a mother that morning?
For a few sick seconds, Zach was jealous of that baby. He wondered how it would feel to be the recipient of Pilar’s empathy or her compassion. Then he grabbed hold of his wayward thoughts. He didn’t need anyone to care about him. People who cared got hurt, felt losses so profoundly that their hearts seemed to have been riddled with bullets.
Though he didn’t need it himself, Zach still valued the kind of compassionate care Pilar brought to her work. As a police officer, he’d seen far too few people who truly cared for their fellow human beings. The children of Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency were fortunate to have someone like Pilar on their side.
Chapter Two
Pilar took several long, deep breaths as she waited for her world to stop spinning. The knowledge that the baby appeared healthy wasn’t enough to slow this Tilt-A-Whirl she’d been riding on and couldn’t get off. If she looked up the word “surreal” in the dictionary, she would find a photograph of this scene outside the Tiny Blessings building. She would see flashing lights and uniformed emergency workers and a crying baby.
And she would see the man she’d secretly mooned over for the last two years standing not ten feet away from her and still looking past her as if she was invisible. Obviously, the crisis hadn’t changed anything.
She’d been overwhelmed enough just discovering the abandoned child, but that was before Zach’s deep voice had rolled into her ears and jolted her pulse. He was so out of context away from the church that it had taken her a few seconds to get her bearings. Not that she wouldn’t have recognized his voice anywhere, as many times as she’d overheard him talking with church friends and had wished he’d been laughing with her instead.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, careful not to get caught staring again. She’d been humiliated enough the first time. He looked so strong and proficient, taking charge of the scene and offering direction to the young uniformed police officer standing next to him. Usually the one to volunteer to head projects, Pilar felt relieved to leave the situation in Zach’s capable hands.
The wind was whipping through his wavy brown hair, forcing him to shove it out of his eyes. He wore his hair a tad longer than the current extreme styles, so it fell low across his forehead and curled the tiniest bit at his nape. Zach marched to his own fashion drummer, as well, even now looking endearingly rumpled in his sport jacket matched with a pair of khaki slacks that had never known a knife crease.
When she’d already watched him longer than she should have, Zach glanced back at her. The most startling pair of cornflower-blue eyes in, well, the history of cornflower-blue eyes, trapped her in their examining stare. Her breath hitched, and goose bumps appeared on her forearms, but she couldn’t look away.
At first he didn’t, either—his eyes wide. What did he see when he looked at her? Just another witness to interview? A case number? A day on the job? She hoped he didn’t see her yearning. She’d hidden it so well before just as all secret crushes should be carefully guarded, but her resistance was down this morning, her self-protection compromised. She exhaled when he finally looked back at his fellow police officer, but she felt oddly disappointed.
A hearty laugh pulled Pilar back to the commotion next to the ambulance.
“This one’s got a pair of lungs on him,” said one of the EMTs.
The other one laughed with him. “He’s just offended that you’re poking at him. I would be, too.”
“You take him. I’ll call in his vitals.” Before the second guy could protest, the first was off with the radio.
Gabriel continued to wail, his face becoming reddish-purple and his feet beating against the blanket. She couldn’t help smiling at him. He’d been dealt a tough blow that morning, but he was a fighter. He was going to be okay. She just knew it.
Pilar touched his head once more, her fingers tracing a path through the sweaty fuzz, and then the paramedic took him inside the ambulance. Her eyes and nose burned. She should have been praising God that little Gabriel appeared to be all right. He would be fine, and Zach would locate his mother for him. That was what she wanted, right? With surprise and a fair amount of guilt, Pilar realized she didn’t want Gabriel’s mother to be found.
As the ambulance pulled away from the curb, its precious cargo inside, Zach turned back to Pilar, anxiety heavy on his chest. He should have taken the easy-out clause Sergeant Roy Hollowell had offered him when he’d called in. The sergeant knew Zach’s history and was trying to save him some grief by not assigning him to the case, but Zach had insisted. Now he wondered why he’d volunteered to suffer.
He scribbled again on his notepad, taking down crime scene details. Hopefully, he would find enough leads this morning to keep him busy all afternoon. He turned to Pilar, who was walking back toward him, the wind blowing dark bangs into her eyes. She shoved her hair back from her face and rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms.
This time he didn’t bother worrying about offending her. Chivalry wouldn’t die under his watch if he could help it.
“Here, take my jacket,” he said, already descending the steps and lowering it onto her shoulders.
She started to speak, but he waved away her protests. “Don’t worry about it. I need to ask you a few questions, and I don’t want you to freeze while I’m doing it.”
But she wasn’t listening to him as her gaze was focused on his shoulder holster and the .40-caliber semi-automatic that until then had been hidden under his jacket. He asked his first question to distract her.
“Can you tell me the approximate time when you first noticed the baby?”
Pilar’s head jerked until she met his gaze again. She chewed her lip for several seconds and then shook her head.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay, but try to think back. Do you know how long you waited after discovering the child before you called police? Dispatch recorded your call at 0724.”
Her gaze darted from the basket to the office entry and back before she turned to him, again shaking her head. Zach gripped his pen tighter but refused to become frustrated. Pilar was going to be helpful to him. He only needed to ask the right questions first.
“Let’s start with something else. Did you see anyone suspicious-looking around the building just before or just after you found the victim?”
Pilar rubbed her chin and looked at the ground. For a third time, she shook her head.
Zach’s jaw tightened. Was she purposely being difficult, or did she really not remember anything? From everything he’d ever sensed from or heard about the ultratogether Pilar Estes, he would have expected her to be able to relate the story in minute detail. Was she hiding something? And if so, why?
The basket drew his attention then, as full of questions as it was empty of its earlier contents.
“Can you show me exactly where you found the infant?”
This time she didn’t hesitate at all. She climbed the porch steps and peered down at the open basket, the cashmere blanket folded inside it. Her posture relaxed, and she pressed her lips together as if holding back a smile. When she glanced back at him, she raised an eyebrow though she easily could have said “duh” at the lame question, worthy of a rookie cop.