Page 3 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)

THE PAST

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

April

Barbara and Greg Washburn

Corporate attorney Barbara Washburn exited the courthouse in Alexandria, Virginia, after successfully defending her client, a tech company, in a high-stakes lawsuit.

As she strode toward her SUV, she checked her phone for messages.

A text from her adoption lawyer caught her attention and caused her heart to beat faster. Barbara pressed the call icon.

“Hello, Barbara. I’ve been expecting to hear from you.”

“I just left court. Any news, Maryann?”

“Good news. We found a baby for you and Greg to adopt. A girl named Julia, according to a silver nametag hanging around her neck. Someone abandoned her at a fire station. How soon can you and Greg get to Miami?”

“Hold on.” Barbara checked the airlines and booked two seats on a flight leaving Virginia in two hours. “We’ll be there by seven.”

“I’m here now, so I’ll meet you at Miami International Airport tonight. Text me your flight information.”

“Will do. See you soon, Maryann.”

Cautious excitement rippled through Barbara. Unable to have their own biological children, she and Greg had been trying to adopt a baby for the past two years without any success. Could this baby girl named Julia be the answer to their prayers?

When Barbara called her husband to share the news with him, she kept her tone neutral for fear of raising false hope.

“Greg, Maryann called. There’s a baby, a girl, in Miami.

I’m going home to pack a bag for us. Can you meet me at the airport?

Our flight leaves in two hours.”Greg, a financial analyst with a major accounting firm, replied in the same moderate tone as Barbara’s, “I’m leaving the office right now. ”

As their plane winged its way toward Florida, Barbara and Greg held hands and prayed for a miracle.

“If this doesn’t work out, honey, we should discuss other options,” Greg told her in a quiet voice.

“You mean use a surrogate and sperm donor.”

“Yes.”

“That poses a whole new slew of difficulties.”

“It does, but it’s a viable option.”

“All right,” Barbara conceded. “We’ll explore it further if this adoption fails.”

Greg lifted his wife’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I love you.”

Barbara rested her head against his broad shoulder. “I love you, too.”

Their flight to Miami arrived on time. They met Maryann Jones, who drove them to a wealthy gated community consisting of landscaped yards and spacious one and two-story homes sitting on an acre of beachfront property.

Maryann turned into a driveway and parked behind a sedan. “Mr. and Mrs. Mock are a retired couple who foster infants until they’re adopted. They’ve had Julia in their care now for eight weeks. A social worker from DCF is also here. Her name is Pamela Rojas.”

She pressed the doorbell, and a sweet-faced woman greeted them. “Come in, please. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Crystal Mock.” A handsome man dressed in slacks, a short-sleeved shirt, and an Argyll sweater vest joined them. “And this is my husband, Paul.”

Barbara, Greg, and Maryann introduced themselves to the Mocks and to Pamela Rojas, who held Julia in her arms.

“Would you like to hold her?” the social worker asked.

Barbara nodded. The moment she held Julia in her arms and looked down into her angelic baby face with its deep brown, expressive eyes and head full of dark hair, Barbara’s heart exploded with fierce maternal love. She glanced up at Greg, who was gazing at Julia with tears in his eyes.

“This is our daughter. Julia Mae Washburn.”