panicked. Sheâd stopped babbling. In fact, sheâd stopped talking completely. Now she just sat in front of the fire staring at the baby. She looked mesmerised. His cop instinct kicked into gear. Please donât let her be a crazy. The last thing he needed today was a crazy. He walked over and touched her hand, kneeling down to look into her eyes. Heâd heard some bizarre tales in his time but this one took the biscuit. âWhatâs your name?â She gave him only a cursory glanceâas if she couldnât bear to tear her eyes away from the baby. âCarrie. Carrie McKenzie. I live upstairs.â He nodded. The accent drew his attention. The apartment upstairs was used by a business in the city. They often had staff from their multinational partners staying there. His brain was racing. Heâd seen this girl, but had never spoken to her. She always looked so sadâas if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He racked his brain. Had she been pregnant? Would he have noticed? Could she have given birth unaided upstairs? His eyes swept over her. Pyjamas and a dressing gown. Could camouflage anything. He took a deep breath. Time was of the essence here. He had to ask. He had to cover all the bases. âCarrieâis this your baby?â Her head jerked up. âWhat?â She looked horrified. And then there was somethingâsomething else. âOf course not!â A feeling of relief swept over him. Heâd been a cop long enough to know a genuine response when he saw one. Thank goodness. Last thing he needed right now was a crazy neighbour with a baby. He reached over and pulled the fleecy blanket down from around the babyâs face. The baby was breathing, but its cheeks were pale. The nearest childrenâs hospital was Angelâs, all the way up next to Central Park. They wouldnât possibly be able to reach there in this weather. And it was likely that the ambulance service had ground to a halt. He had to prioritise. Even though he wasnât an expert, the baby seemed okay. He stood up. âHow did you find the baby?â Her brow wrinkled. âI heard a noise. I thought it was a cat. I came downstairs to see.â He couldnât hide the disbelief in his voice. âYou thought a baby was a cat?â Her blue eyes narrowed as they met his. His tone had obviously annoyed her. âWell, you know, it was kinda hard to hear with your music blaring.â He ignored the sarcasm, even though it humoured him. Maybe Miss Sad-Eyes had some spunk after all. âHow long since you first heard it?â This was important. This was really important. She shook her head. âI donât know. Five minutes? Maybe a little more?â His feet moved quickly. He grabbed for the jacket that hung behind the door and shoved his bare feet into his baseball boots. She stood up. âWhere are you going? Donât leave me alone. I donât know the first thing about babies.â He turned to her. âCarrie, someone left this baby on our doorstep.â His eyes went to the window, to the heavy snow falling on the window ledge as he slid his arms into his jacket. âOutside, there could be someone in trouble. Someone could be hurt. I need to go and check.â She bit her lip and glanced at the baby before giving a small cursory nod of her head. He stepped outside into the bitter cold, glancing both ways, trying to decide which way to go. There was nothing in the snow. Any tracks that had been left had been covered within minutes; the snow was falling thick and fast. He walked to the other side of the street and looked over at their building. Why here? Why had someone left their baby here? There were some lights on in the other apartment buildings on the street. But most of the lights were in the second or third storeys. Theirs was the only building with lights on in the first floor. It made sense. Someone had wanted this baby