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Before Luc could respond, Grace asked, “What will happen to Toni?”
Hatcher explained while writing. “The law requires we have her transported by ambulance to the local hospital. She’ll be examined there and kept overnight at the child protection center. In the morning they’ll put her in a temporary foster home while an emergency response worker investigates the case.” He spoke by rote, his demeanor cool and dispassionate, repeating an explanation he’d obviously given before.
“How do we get her back?” Grace questioned.
He hesitated, glancing up. For the first time, his guard relaxed slightly. “To be honest, I’m not sure you can. The best chance you have is to get in touch with the legal guardian, presumably the mother, and obtain a signed custody statement and a medical permission slip. A copy of the birth certificate wouldn’t hurt, either.”
Grace gazed at Luc. “Can we do that?” she whispered.
He gave a brief nod. “Brand can fax or email it to us.”
“Even then, it’s questionable whether the authorities will release her to you.” Hatcher hesitated, eyeing Grace. “Though, a permanent female presence in the home could possibly tip the scales in your favor.” He snapped his notepad closed and pocketed it. “Take me to the baby.”
There was nothing they could do after that. Luc went into the spare bedroom and packed a diaper bag with several days’ worth of clothes, diapers, and baby paraphernalia. Fighting back tears, Grace carefully bundled up Toni for the trip into the frigid night air. The entire time, Officer Hatcher stood in the doorway, watching their every move.
“Wait.” She stopped Luc before he could close the diaper bag. Handing him the baby, she grabbed a floppy-eared rabbit from the pet net and thrust it in among the clothes he’d packed. “What about a bottle and a spare can of formula?” she asked the policeman.
“Can’t hurt.”
“It will only take a minute.” She glanced at Luc. He held Toni, his face expressionless, but she could sense his impotent fury. “Officer Hatcher, would you mind helping me?” She sent Hatcher a pleading look, hoping against hope he’d give Luc the few moments of privacy he needed to say goodbye to Toni.
After a brief hesitation, the policeman nodded. “Two minutes. No more.”
Chattering nonsense while she prepared a bottle, Grace prayed that Luc wouldn’t do anything foolish. To her relief, he appeared in the doorway just as she finished mixing the formula. Without a word, he handed the officer the baby and the diaper bag.
“Here’s my business card,” Luc said. “My private cell number’s on the back. I’ll expect the emergency response worker’s call first thing in the morning.” It wasn’t a request.
Hatcher inclined his head. “I suggest you get those papers together and fast. You haven’t a prayer otherwise.”
And with that he left, Toni gently cradled in his arms.
The minute the door closed behind him, Luc slammed his fist against the wall, knocking a hole in the plaster. Grace came up behind, not sure approaching him at this time was the wisest course of action. “It’s all right,” she told him. “We’ll get her back.”
He turned on her, his eyes wild with fury, dark color streaking across his angled cheekbones. “I won’t let it happen again, Grace. I won’t let them split up my family again.”
Again?She stared at him in alarm. “What do you mean, again?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he headed for the guest room, forcing her to run to keep up with him. “Luc?”
He crossed to the empty crib and took a deep breath, then another. Slowly, his anger dissipated and he took a minute to gaze around the room. It seemed so quiet and empty without Toni. Luc must have felt something similar because he spun the colorful mobile with a surprisingly gentle hand, causing it to chatter. Releasing a sigh, he picked up Toni’s crumpled pink blanket and folded it, tossing it across the headboard. He’d cut himself hitting the wall. A streak of blood oozed from his bruised and scraped knuckles. If it bothered him, he gave no indication.
“I was fourteen when Brand was born,” he began. “I guess you’d call my brother an afterthought, though Mamma and Papà were delighted by the addition. He’d make it an even half dozen, they claimed. The first time I saw him, I thought he was the ugliest creature ever created. I called him ‘monkey face.’”
Grace curled up in the rocker near the crib and watched him with concern. She’d stumbled across something. She didn’t quite know what, but at a guess it had a great deal to do with his feelings for Toni. “Brand’s looks have improved with age,” she said lightly.
To her surprise, a brief grin creased his face. “Yeah. They did.” The grin faded. “Mom died when he was only a couple of months old.”
“Oh, no,” Grace cried softly.
He swatted at the mobile again, sending the cartoon characters careening in a drunken circle. “I’m not sure whether it was the stress of Brand’s birth. She was in her forties by the time she had him. Maybe it was the pneumonia that killed her.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps it was a combination of the two. Not that it matters now.”
“Where was Dom?”
“Papà was in Italy on business. We had trouble contacting him.” His voice deepened, the sound raspy with emotion. “Mom had all that information, but she went so fast she didn’t have time to tell us how to get in touch with him.”
She left the rocker and crossed to his side, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his broad back. His skin felt warm and smooth beneath her face. “What happened?”
To her relief, he accepted her compassion. His arms pulled her even closer, forging a bond against the darkness. “Same as tonight. The police arrived to take us into foster care until Papà could come for us. I fought them. I mean, physically fought them.”
He sounded so cold and remote, so removed from his memories. But it wasn’t true. She could hear the harsh sound of his breathing, feel his tension beneath her hands. “Why did you fight?” she asked.
