The Baby Snatchers (18 page)

After all, his little sister had also made
some difficult choices in her life, but from the love and concern
he showered on her, it appeared Cam neither judged her, nor laid
blame. She could only hope he’d be as merciful if, and when, it
came to her.

She remembered how she’d left him, in a rush
to get away. She’d spent all of her second day off in her
apartment, rehashing the night and dredging up memories of the
past. She should call him and apologize for her hasty departure and
thank him again for his hospitality.

She also hadn’t had a chance to talk to him
about Cynthia’s fears and insecurities. Georgie was sure he’d want
to know. She was just as certain he’d offer the teen all the
reassurances Georgie had already mentioned to her. Whatever else
Cameron Dawson was, he was good and kind and compassionate, at
least when it came to his sister.

Removing the stethoscope from her ears, she
made a notation on the baby’s hospital chart and then hung it back
on the crib. It was almost time for her break. She’d grab a coffee
and head outside into the wintery sunshine. The morning had been
cool when she’d arrived at work, but by now it ought to be perfect.
Even in winter, the temperature in the heart of Sydney remained
pleasantly mild. Most June days saw the mercury climb to at least
sixty-two degrees. There was no better time to make a call to the
man she just couldn’t get out of her mind.

With coffee in hand, Georgie found a spot on
the grass out the front of the hospital. Several other nurses lay
sprawled on the ground chatting with each other or texting or
talking on their phones. She tugged her cell from her pocket and
dialed Cameron’s number. It was answered on the second ring.

“Good morning,” he greeted her and she could
hear the smile in his husky voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Good morning,”
she replied, all of a sudden feeling unaccountably shy.

“How are you?”

“I-I’m great,” she stammered and then cursed
the blush that burned her cheeks. She felt like a tongue-tied
teenager greeting the guy she’d been crushing on all year. With an
effort, she slowed her breathing and forced the nerves aside.

“I… I just wanted to call and apologize for
leaving so abruptly the other night. I had a lovely evening. I… I
don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s fine, Georgie,” he replied, his voice
soft and caring. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have mentioned my
past. I could tell my attitude alarmed you, and I’m sorry. It’s
been a sore point for me for as long as I can remember, but it’s my
bad. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it. No wonder you ran.”

“I didn’t run,” she protested gently.
“Besides, I’d like to hear more about your past, about the real
Cameron Dawson. We all have a past—me, included. Sometimes it’s
good to show your vulnerable side.” She thought about the way she’d
blubbered all over him and added, “Like I did.”

“I’m honored that you trusted me enough to
do so.”

The gentleness in his voice sounded so
genuine, she couldn’t help but believe he meant it.
How had she
stumbled across this wonderful man?
A man who seemed to share
her interest, if his heated kisses were anything to go by.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, suddenly
overwhelmed by a wave of emotion. “You’re very kind.”

“I’m not sure kindness has anything to do
with it. I’m just being honest.”

She smiled and her heart sang with joy.
Could he get any more perfect?
There must be something wrong
with him that she hadn’t yet discovered. There had to be some
reason a man like Cameron Dawson was still single. Nobody was as
good and kind as he was without some hidden flaws. It just wasn’t
possible.

“How’s Cynthia?” she asked, remembering the
other reason for her call.

“She’s great. Better than I’ve ever seen
her. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for her.”

Georgie brushed off the praise. “It was
nothing. Besides, I had a good time, too. Who wouldn’t want to
spend the day getting pampered?”

Cam laughed. “Me, I guess. Maybe it’s a girl
thing?”

Georgie chuckled and then her smile faded.
“Cynthia’s a little concerned you might ask her to leave if you
start a relationship with a woman,” she said quietly.

It was only after the words were out of her
mouth that Georgie thought about how that might sound.
Did he
think she was angling for a relationship? That she wanted to move
things between them so fast?
A fresh wave of heat burned her
cheeks. She hurried to explain.

“I-I don’t mean you and me… That is, that
we
might… Oh, God…”

His gentle laughter did nothing to ease her
embarrassment. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be,
Georgie. I understand what you’re trying to say. Somehow or other,
you were able to get Cynthia to confide in you about her feelings
and she told you about her insecurities. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Georgie replied, relieved he was
taking it in the manner she meant.

“I admire you for getting her to open up to
you and I’m grateful for it. She raised the subject with me this
morning over breakfast, so your revelation doesn’t come as a
complete surprise.”

Georgie was filled with satisfaction,
pleased that Cynthia had taken Georgie’s words of advice to heart.
“She did?”

“Yes, I was going to call you and thank you,
but I hadn’t found the time.”

“What did she say?”

“Pretty much what you just did, only your
name came up in the conversation as the relevant third party. I
think she suspects there might be something between us.”

Georgie’s heart beat a little faster. She
tightened her grip on her phone.
There was something between
them? Had Cameron just admitted it?
She couldn’t believe how
much she wanted it to be true.

“Cynthia was plain about her feelings,” Cam
continued. “She wanted to know where she stood; what would happen
to her if I moved a girlfriend into my apartment.”

“W-what did you tell her?”

“That it didn’t matter who I was dating;
she’ll always have a home with me for as long as she needs it.” His
tone lowered to a husky drawl. “I told her I was sure you’d
understand.”

A swarm of butterflies took up residence in
Georgie’s stomach and her pulse kicked up another gear. She
couldn’t believe they were talking about having a relationship;
that he’d begun to think of her in that way—the same way she’d
begun to think of him.

After leaving his condo, she’d spent the
rest of the night dreaming about what it would be like to spend
every spare moment with him, claiming him as her own. The fantasies
had been overshadowed by her concern about his attitude toward
adoption and she’d been kept sleepless for the past two nights.
She’d woken tired and restless, yet eager to see him again.

From what he’d just said, he was as keen
about her as she was about him, but she needed to be certain. She
was way past the age of playing games and the last thing she wanted
to do was embarrass herself by presuming feelings that might not be
there. She cleared her throat of a bout of nerves. “Just so we’re
clear on this, you… You like me, right?”

“I thought I made that clear when I kissed
you the other night?”

Georgie blushed once again at the memory,
but managed to reply. “Yes, well I guess you did. It was a very
nice kiss.”

“
Nice?
” he asked, his voice tinged
with laughter.

Georgie smiled into her phone. “Okay, it was
a little more than nice. It was…amazing.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “it was.”

Silence fell between them, like they were
both remembering the explosiveness of their first kiss. Georgie
couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to take things
further.

“I want to kiss you again,” Cameron
murmured.

“Me, too,” she admitted breathlessly.

“Where are you?”

“At work. How about you?”

“Same.”

“What time do you finish?”

“Six. How about you?”

“I’m supposed to get out of here at four. If
I’m in the middle of assisting a labor, I’ll sometimes stay later,
but today I’m working on the post-natal ward, so I should get away
on time.”

“We might be able to get together, maybe
grab a bite to eat.”

Georgie’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you
asking me out?”

There was another brief pause and then Cam
said, “Is that all right?”

Excitement and anticipation swirled through
Georgie’s belly. An image of her infant son materialized before
her, but she steadfastly pushed it away. She forced a grin. “You
bet.”

“Great. I’ll call you when I get done here
and we’ll work something out. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll wait to hear from
you.”

Cam cleared his throat. “I… I was wondering
if I could ask you something work-related?”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember when I asked you about the
number of babies that have died on your ward during the last twelve
months?”

Georgie frowned slightly, bemused at his
change of topic. “Yes.”

“I’ve been going over the hospital records.
The actual number is fifteen.”

Shock rendered her momentarily speechless.
“
Fifteen!
No, there’s no way that can be right.”

“That’s exactly what Deborah Healy said at
first, but the records verify the fifteen.”

Georgie’s thoughts spun madly. She’d worked
on Ward Seven the past two years. Surely she’d know if there were
more deaths than the ones she’d been directly affected by. The
nurses had a handover before the start of every shift. Something
like the unexpected death of a newborn would be mentioned as a
priority… Wouldn’t it?

She thought back to the three dead infants
she knew of and tried to remember whether any reference to them had
been made in front of the other staff. She realized that only the
death of Cynthia Dawson’s baby had been mentioned by her mother at
the handover. For the babies of Danielle Jamison and Sandra Briggs,
Marjorie had spoken to her in the privacy of her mother’s office.
Was it possible so many more babies could have died on the ward
without her knowledge or the knowledge of some of the other nurses?
She refused to believe it.

“The records must be wrong,” she replied
adamantly. “I know of only three. I… I was involved in the delivery
of all three. It’s not something I’ll ever forget. You need to go
back to the general manager and get her to check those records out.
There must be some explanation for the mistake.”

“That’s the thing, Georgie,” Cameron
replied, his voice now scarily somber, “I don’t think there has
been a mistake.”

Georgie stared dazedly at the beautiful day
that surrounded her and was oblivious to the warm sun on her face.
Cameron sounded so certain…
But how could that be right?
She
needed to talk to her mother. Marjorie had been in charge of the
ward for many years. She’d know the true numbers. She might also
know why the hospital records were wrong. Georgie would go to her
right away and seek an explanation. If anyone knew how to set her
mind at ease, it was her mother.

“I-I have to go, Cameron. My break’s nearly
over.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll call you later.”

If he was puzzled by her abrupt farewell,
Georgie didn’t care. She had to speak to her mother and get this
sorted out, once and for all.

With that, she finished what was left of her
coffee and tossed the Styrofoam cup into the trash. Brushing off
her skirts, she headed back to the ward. She was halfway back when
another thought raised its head: Cameron was a detective. Why was
he looking at the hospital records? Though she had nothing to fear,
she shivered with a sudden premonition that her life was about to
be turned on its end—and not in the way she imagined.

Cameron stared at the files piled high on
his desk and sighed. He was certain Georgie’s shock at the number
of babies who had died on her ward over the past year was genuine
and that certainty only emphasized the GM’s suspicion that the
lines of communication had broken down.

The three most recent deaths were the ones
Georgie had referred to and she’d been the midwife on duty during
the births, though the files showed she’d not been on duty when the
infants died. According to the hospital notes on each patient,
autopsies had been offered, but none of the mothers had taken up
the opportunity to possibly get answers into the cause of their
babies’ deaths. His sister included.

Cynthia’s file had been among the most
recent baby deaths that had occurred on Ward Seven. Georgie’s
report of the labor was much as she’d said: The labor was
uneventful. Cynthia delivered a healthy baby girl. There were no
abnormalities detected on the tests conducted on the baby straight
after her birth. The report was eerily similar to the one he’d read
in Danielle Jamison’s file.

The later report, prepared by Marjorie
Whitely in her capacity as the Nursing Unit Manager, stated that at
0200 hours, the baby was found in her crib, cold and unresponsive.
CPR was administered, but the baby couldn’t be revived. The mother
had been informed and was understandably devastated. An autopsy was
offered, but declined. It was Marjorie Whitely’s opinion that the
baby died from complications arising from the mother’s long-term,
illicit drug use.

The line caught Cam’s attention and he
frowned.
Cynthia hadn’t done drugs…
How could the NUM have
gotten it so wrong? He flipped over a few pages and found a copy of
the hospital’s death certificate which gave SIDS as the cause of
death. It had been signed by a Doctor Frederick Rolleston, who had
a string of letters after his name.

Had Marjorie Whitely merely presumed
Cynthia’s baby died from the side effects of her mother’s drug
habit, without ever giving the matter serious consideration? Was it
because the majority of patients who gave birth on Ward Seven were
drug addicts that she’d jumped to the most obvious conclusion? Was
that all it was? A mistake made in the early hours of the morning
when no other evidence of the cause of death was forthcoming?