Mystery Inc

Case 2

Runaway

Note: By request, the 2nd part of what I usually just refer to as those 'Bailey and Mark' stories.

1

Bailey jerked upright in bed, gasping, not sure what had awakened her.

She caught herself groping in the nightstand for her gun. Shaking her head, she sat still and listened.

The house was silent. Mark had left early, going to his shop to get some bikes ready to ship to Florida to a client. Payge was back home with her mom Austin and Ken. Even Spiderman was gone, enjoying his new home with Ken.

Bailey glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just past ten in the morning on what looked to be a gray Saturday. She had stayed up late the night before, helping Glen track down some leads on a guy who skipped out on his child support. She wasn't used to sleeping in, and was groggy because of it.

The noise made her eyes widen.

It sounded like a kitten mewling. From the front yard. Bailey rolled her eyes and climbed out of bed. Great. Now Mark's house would be overrun by the neighborhood strays. Bailey did not mind animals, or pets, but didn't particularly want one for herself. Spidey was all right, in small doses. She tolerated him. He seemed to love her, in spite of, or maybe because of, her standoffish attitude toward him.

She padded in her shorts and tank top-her standard pajamas-to the kitchen. Bailey peered through the fridge and found a bottle of Mountain Dew. She didn't like coffee, so she trusted soda to get her caffeine fix. She twisted the cap and chugged half the bottle, shuffling toward the front door.

Bailey pulled the door open and peered outside, squinting in spite of the cloud cover. The bedroom had been relatively dim in comparison. She looked around the yard and saw nothing. She hoped the cat hadn't crawled under the house, because she was not going to go crawling in after it.

She was about to turn back toward the kitchen, thinking breakfast, when the noise came again. This time from in front of her. Bailey looked down, blinking a few times to clear her bleary eyes.

There was a baby carrier on the porch at her feet.

More important than that…there was a small moving bundle seated in it. A tiny hand waved the air.

"Oh…shit…" Bailey muttered, staring, not believing her eyes. Whoever had dropped the baby had also left an overflowing diaper bag and a manila envelope. 'Mark Calaway' was scrawled across the front in black permanent marker. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit." Bailey kept repeating the word. She glanced at the bottle of Mountain Dew in her hand, wondering if somebody had spiked it. She had to be hallucinating.

That thought ended as the baby cried out. At first it was just a hitching, soft sob. It turned into full on wailing. Little hands waved the air again, this time either in anger or…hell, she didn't know. Bailey tossed her bottle into the yard and kneeled down, gathering the baby's things. She gripped the carrier last by the plastic handle that rose from the side and shuffled into the house.

The baby was still crying. Bailey had no experience with babies. A kid Payge's age was not so bad, she could talk and mostly take care of herself. A baby was a whole other ball game.

Bailey shoved her hair back with shaking hands and leaned down to peer at the squalling kid. It appeared to be a boy. At least, that was the impression she got considering everything was blue. Blue blanket, blue sleeper, even his carrier. Her observations were not quieting him down though.

"Shh…it's all right…little…uh…guy." Bailey said, experimentally rocking the carrier. He did not seem to like it as he let out yet another piercing cry. She was alarmed at how red the baby's face was. Muttering under her breath, scared to hurt him, she reached out and worked at the clasp holding the kid in the seat. After two minutes of fumbling that felt like a lifetime, she finally freed him. She untucked the blanket and carefully eased her hands under him, supporting his head like she'd seen people do a million times.

Whoever the kid was, he was tiny. Couldn't be more than a month old, if he was even that. His skin was a smooth cream color, his fine hair dark red against his scalp. His crying had quieted a bit, but he was still hitching like he'd start up again.

Over his pitiful sobs, Bailey muttered to him without realizing she was doing it. "Look kid, I know you don't wanna be messin' with me, I don't know what to do with you…never been around a baby before…" She rattled the statements off again, and he seemed calmed by the sound of her voice. Bailey cradled him in her arms and watched his eyes blink open, stunned to silence by the intense green color. Mark's eyes. What the hell?

"Oh, kid. I know somebody that's got a shit load of explainin' to do." Bailey whispered. Swaying, keeping him fairly quiet compared to the fit he'd just thrown, she grabbed the cordless phone and dialed Mark's cell.

"Hey, darlin'. You just now getting up?" Was his way of answering. Bailey sighed.

"And in the strangest possible way."

"What do you mean?" Mark sounded distracted. Bailey could hear the distinct sound of metal hitting metal. He was working on one of the bikes.

"Someone left you a little gift on the front porch this morning." Bailey winced as the baby began wailing again. "And you need to get your ass home NOW."

"I just…I don't know how this happened…"

"Do I need to break out the high school anatomy books?" Bailey asked, watching as Mark heated a bottle for the little boy.

"I mean…I've always been careful." He gave her a look. "Except with you. Because you told me you couldn't…"

"Yeah, yeah." Bailey was once again holding the little one. She'd put him in Mark's arms as soon as he walked in the door. Mark had taken one look at the kid and gone white. "I can't. But somebody could, right?"

"Are you mad at me? I didn't know about him, Bailey." Mark said, looking at the baby, keeping his voice low. He'd changed the kid's diaper because he was wet, and that had calmed him considerably. Every time Bailey held him, he made smacking noises with his lips, a sign of being hungry. So here he was…preparing a bottle. Something he hadn't had to do since Austin was a baby.

"I'm not mad. Just confused." She said, taking the bottle when he held it out. "Why am I feeding him? I don't know what the hell I'm doin'!" She stepped toward Mark. Mark held up his hands.

"Sit. I'll show you. I wanna go through his stuff, and maybe we'll figure out what the hell is going on." He led Bailey to a chair at the kitchen table and showed her how to correctly hold the bottle and the baby. She was reluctant…and that was an understatement.

Mark went to the living room, grabbing the diaper bag and envelope. At a glance, he did not recognize the handwriting. Not that he would. He didn't make a habit of getting samples.

He returned to the kitchen. In spite of herself, Bailey was watching the little one eat with fascination on her features, cuddling him protectively in her arms. She glanced up when he pulled a chair out for himself. Mark gave her a sad smile. Bailey returned it.

"Well?" She asked, watching as the little one spit the bottle out.

"You gotta burp him." Mark said. "Here…put him up on your shoulder…" He positioned the baby and grabbed a dishtowel to protect Bailey's bare skin. "Sometimes they spit up."

Bailey shot him a sour look and dutifully began patting the little guy gently on his back. "What good is this gonna…" Before she could finish, the baby let loose a loud belch that made her jump.

The baby sighed contentedly and snuggled into the crook between her shoulder and neck. Bailey absently stroking his back, watching as Mark went through the bag. It was full of diapers, toys, clothes. Three cans of formula were tucked in the bottom, along with a spare bottle. That was it.

He shook his head and studied the envelope as if it were a snake poised to bite him.

"Get on with it." Bailey instructed, not liking the hesitation.

Mark smirked and tore the envelope open on one end. There were several papers inside, including what looked like a birth certificate.

Mark picked it up gingerly, looking it over, a frown forming on his features. "His name…"

When Mark could not seem to finish, Bailey reached for the paper. "His name is…" He didn't hand it over, so she goaded him on.

"It says…Caleb Michael…Calaway." He said haltingly.

"Caleb, huh?" Bailey shifted the baby a bit. He was drooling on her neck. He was a warm cuddly ball against her chest.

"He's only two weeks old." Mark said it almost helplessly. "Christ. It's got MY name for the father. The name of the mother…it's blank. There's no name."

"How is that possible?" Bailey asked.

"I don't know. I know that sometimes women leave off the father's name if he's not involved in their life anymore. But I've never heard of a woman getting her name left out of it."

"Mark." Bailey said his name softly. He looked up and met her calm gray eyes. "Is it possible he IS yours?"

"I…" Mark sighed. "I don't know how it coulda happened. But, yeah. It's possible." He looked to Caleb. "I just…I had a couple of dates with this girl…just a casual thing, we met twice, that was it. But I swear to you, Bailey, I used a condom every time."

"Condoms break, Mark. It's a well documented fact."

"Not this time. I was especially careful because I didn't really know her…and I knew that it was just for a couple of days before she left town. She was movin' to Utah to live with family, at least that's what she said. Hell." Mark shoved a hand through his long, dark red hair. "It's not possible, but it fits. She's the only one besides you I've been with in a while. And the timing is just about right, if he was born this month…" Mark made a quick count on his fingers. "Fuck."

"So what are we gonna do?" Bailey asked softly.

"I don't know, darlin'…" Mark reached over and touched the back of Caleb's head with a fingertip, sighing at the feel of downy soft hair against him. "I just don't know…"