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Chapter Thirty-Four

J etta paced back and forth, jostling the fussy baby up and down with every step. Her daughter, whom she hadn’t named yet, refused to settle down. Eight-thirty p.m. The baby had nursed well and burped, her diaper was fresh, so Jetta wasn’t sure what the problem was. Her mother had offered to cut short her rehab stay and move back in to help, but Jetta deflected the offer. Mom meant well, but Jetta needed to see if she could handle motherhood on her own or not. Being a single mother was a huge responsibility. Thus far, she felt like an utter failure.

Seth’s text about the FinCEN investigation should have cheered her that answers to who was behind framing her father and stealing the money would be forthcoming eventually, but she’d had to resist the urge to throw her phone against the wall. Her OB-GYN had said her emotions might be raw and see-sawing for a few weeks after the birth, but Jetta hadn’t realized how far her moods would swing.

The visit earlier that day with a representative of a Christian adoption agency hadn’t gone well either. The woman had been nice and presented her options with how an adoption might work—open, closed, somewhere in between. Jetta had no idea she had to think about whether she wanted to be part of the baby’s life or not. The decision whether to give her baby up to another set of parents seemed momentous enough without having to figure out how involved she would want to be with the adoptive family.

The niggling idea she didn’t have to decide wouldn’t leave her, that she could simply agree to let Seth be part of her and her baby’s life, and all would be rainbows and unicorns. Okay, maybe that was putting too much of a happy spin on things, and Seth didn’t deserve her sarcasm. She shifted the baby to her other shoulder, then resumed pacing and patting. The baby let out a loud belch.

“Better?” Jetta rocked back and forth as the infant’s cries softened to a whimper. Another burp escaped, and her daughter snuggled down on her shoulder. She eased into the glider chair Mom had surprised her with when she came home from the hospital. She suspected Mom had corralled Seth into putting the chair together, since she spotted the box next to his recycling bin, but she was grateful to have the chair.

With a push, she set it in motion, and the baby soon drifted off to sleep. Jetta’s body relaxed as quiet descended on the house. She’d close her eyes for a few minutes, then put the baby in the bassinet and get something to eat, as she’d only nibbled a few bites of her scrambled eggs and toast.

Seth leaned over her, his warm chocolate eyes shining with a love so intense, so pure, it stole her breath. She reached up, allowing her fingers to brush the shadow along his jawline, marveling at the contrast of the rough texture with her smoother skin. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his gaze fashioned on hers. “Do you see me, sweetheart?”

She dropped her hand, confusion clouding the moment. “I see you.”

“I’m real. I’m here. I’m waiting for you to see me.”

“I do.” She struggled to her feet, the baby suddenly in his arms, not hers. The sight of his big, strong biceps flexing to cradle her infant daughter brought tears to her eyes. The baby didn’t stir with the transfer, simply slept on as peaceful as a lamb.

Bingley’s wet nose on her bare foot jolted her out of the dream and back to reality. It took a few minutes for the vestiges of the vivid dream to receded and for Jetta to recover her bearings. Seth wasn’t there. She was in the baby’s room. Her daughter stirred but didn’t awaken as the dog nudged Jetta again, this time with a soft whine. Shadows had deepened while she had slept with only the nightlight on in the baby’s room. She checked the time on her phone. Nine-thirteen. She’d been asleep for only about twenty minutes or so.

Jetta pushed Bingley out of the way so she could lay the baby in the bassinet, covering the infant with a blanket. Time for some decaf tea and to finish her omelet if Bingley hadn’t gobbled it up, since she’d left it on the kitchen counter. But when she moved toward the door, the dog blocked her way.

“Out of the way,” she whispered.

Bingley responded with a low growl, something he had never done before. She placed her hand on his collar intent on moving him aside when she heard something. She dropped to her knees beside the dog and listened. Yes, someone was moving around downstairs.

Her fingers slipped as she grabbed her phone. If she called 911, she would have to speak, something she didn’t want to do unless absolutely necessary. She didn’t want to draw the intruder’s attention to herself and her baby. She’d text Seth and ask him to call 911. Without giving herself a chance to reconsider, she sent the text, adding she was turning off her phone to avoid detection. She didn’t want any buzzing or beeping to alert whoever had broken into her house. She would stay with Bingley in the baby’s room and wait for help to arrive.

Then she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

* * *

Seth lifted the thirty-pound weight in a bicep curl with his left hand, completing twenty reps before switching to his right. He continued alternating every twenty reps until he’d worked each arm with a hundred repetitions. After replacing the weights, he debated whether he should add sit ups to his regime or call it a night. His phone buzzed, distracting him from his late-night workout.

Jetta’s name flashed on the screen, lifting his heart until he read her brief message.

Intruder downstairs. Baby’s sleeping. I’m there with Bingley. Call 911 for me. Will wait in baby’s room until help arrives. Turning off phone to avoid detection by intruder.

His heart rate skyrocketed at the news. This wasn’t how he wanted to hear from Jetta. With Gene Topher’s arrest and FinCEN investigating Yasmine, he thought the danger to Jetta was over, but apparently not. He prayed for her and the baby while dialing 911. After relaying what little info he had to the dispatcher, he ignored her admonition to stay put until first responders arrived and dashed out the back door.

He slipped through the side entrance to Jetta’s backyard, then eased up onto the patio. He paused outside the sliding glass doors leading to the dining room, listening for any noise that would indicate where the intruder was. Hearing nothing, he jiggled the handle to slip the lock. He’d noticed it was loose last year and had pointed it out to Emily, who hadn’t seemed overly concerned. Now he was glad she hadn’t fixed it. The door lock disengaged, and he slid it silently back on its runners. Once inside the house, he gently closed the door to prevent any intruders from escaping easily and crept toward the front of the house.

Nothing stirred. The study door stood open, and he glanced inside as he passed. Someone had turned on the desk lamp, and he glimpsed papers strewn across the desk and spilling out of an open filing cabinet drawer. Someone had been searching, but for what? Emily had said she’d gone through Jay’s papers searching for clues as to who the embezzler might be but found nothing.

A noise from upstairs made him hurry. Hugging the wall, he climbed the stairs. At the top, he paused to listen again. Bingley growled, and a woman’s voice commanded Jetta to quiet him.

Seth eased toward the baby’s room, the door partially open. He flattened himself against the wall and concentrated on slowing his breathing to keep as still as possible—and to hear what was happening inside the room.

“You will tell me what your father has on the embezzlement.” A familiar female voice demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My father was the one accused of stealing that money.” Jetta’s voice sounded strained, as if she were hanging onto to her composure by a thread.

You can do it. Hang on a little longer, my darling. His silent encouragement turned into a prayer God would help her until he could figure out how to rescue her. While every fiber of his being wanted to burst into the room, he couldn’t risk it with the baby and Jetta inside. The other female may have a weapon, so he needed to get the lay of the land before he did anything.

“Your mother told Gene he was collecting information about the embezzler.”

The mention of Gene clued Seth in that Yasmine Topher was in the room with Jetta, but why would she risk confronting Jetta? She’d gotten away with embezzlement for years without anyone being the wiser.

“She never said anything to me, and she’s been through all his papers,” Jetta said. “Please, I don’t know anything.”

Yasmine mimicked her last words, the sarcasm coming through loud and clear. “You are pathetic. You and your mother thought you could figure out what my own brother had no idea was going on right under his nose. He underestimated me, and so did you.”

The baby whimpered, and Jetta must have made a move to the crib because Yasmine snapped, “Stay where you are.”

“She needs to be fed. She’ll start crying harder soon.”

“Then you’d better tell me what I need to know.”

“There’s nothing to tell! If my father had evidence, we don’t know where it is.” Jetta appeared even more distraught as the infant’s wails increased in volume.

“Your precious baby’s getting worked up. You’d better stop messing around and tell me the truth. Where’s the evidence your father hid?”

Seth sensed time was running out. He needed to act fast, or Jetta and her baby might not survive. He shot a prayer heavenward and concentrated on Yasmine’s voice as she harangued Jetta over the baby’s screams. Once he had been very good at figuring out where people were by listening to their voices. His life had depended on being able to slip by open doors without notice. Yasmine’s tone changed slightly, telling Seth her back was to the door. Time to make his move.