The Baby's Guardian by Delores Fossen

Sabrina Carr, one of the maternity hostages, and she’s in my protective custody. Wherever I go, she goes with me, so private conversations are out.”
    “Sabrina Carr,” the man repeated. She didn’t think it was her imagination that he had some disdain for her. “Gavin Cunningham came to you, and you encouraged his lies.”
    “Hardly.” Sabrina lifted her shoulder. “Gavin just filled us in on the details. Before now, I had no idea that the biological father he wanted me to find was you.”
    “It isn’t me. And whatever that slick weasel told you, it’s a lie.”
    “Really?” Shaw said with skepticism dripping from his voice.
    “Really. Because he’s trying to set me up. You want to know who’s responsible for that hostage mess?” He pulled out a small tape recorder from his pocket. “Well, I got the proof of who’s guilty right here.”

Chapter Eight
    Shaw was having second and third thoughts about Sabrina sitting in on this meeting with Rouse and Gavin. He didn’t want her more stressed than she already was.
    But he also didn’t want her out of his sight.
    He trusted almost all his men, but those same men he trusted were swamped with the hostage investigation and the normal cases. Besides, it was possible that Gavin would be more open if Sabrina were in the room, and that openness could maybe lead them to the truth—even if this wasn’t standard procedure to have a victim in the same room with the possible perpetrators.
    “I want you to stay off your feet,” Shaw insisted, and he led Sabrina back to the chair in the interview room where she’d sat earlier.
    Shaw sat next to her, directly across from Gavin, but Rouse didn’t sit. He walked in, slammed the door shut and aimed glares at all of them. He saved the more intense glare for Gavin.
    “I have proof of what you’ve done,” Rouse accused the other man.
    “And if you hadn’t stolen the DNA from the hospitallab, I would have had proof that you’re my father,” Gavin accused right back.
    “Not a chance. I had your mother checked out, and she might have worked for me, but I didn’t play under the sheets with the waitresses. Or with any woman other than my wife,” he quickly added.
    Rouse held up the miniature tape recorder and clicked the play button. Shaw immediately heard a man’s voice.
    An angry man.
    “I won’t let you get away with this, Rouse. So help me, I will make you pay. I’ll ruin the only thing you seem to give a damn about—your precious name—and I don’t care what I have to do to make that happen.”
    It was clear that it was Gavin’s voice, and the young man jumped to his feet. “That conversation had nothing to do with what happened at the hospital.”
    Rouse smiled. “Didn’t it?”
    “You know it didn’t. Play the rest of it.” But then he shook his head and sank back down into the chair. “Yes, I did threaten him, and it’ll sound as if I’m trying to set him up. But I didn’t.”
    Gavin’s reaction seemed honest, but Shaw wasn’t about to declare him innocent of anything. “Why did you want to make Rouse pay?” Shaw asked. But he thought he already knew the answer—because Rouse wouldn’t acknowledge that Gavin was his son.
    “Tell him,” Rouse prompted when Gavin didn’t answer.
    Gavin took his time responding. “I sued him on behalf of a client, and I lost.”
    “He lost because he tried to cut some corners withdepositions, and I caught him in the act. It was his first big case,” Rouse happily provided. “And he blew it big-time. That didn’t sit well with the partners in his law firm, and since one of them is a golfing buddy of mine, I explained he should rethink his decision about keeping on the boy genius here.”
    Shaw silently groaned. He glanced at Sabrina, who had her eyes tipped to the ceiling. “So, you faked this whole fatherhood accusation to get back at him?” Sabrina asked Gavin.
    “No!” Gavin practically shouted.
    “You bet he did,” Rouse contradicted, his