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Benedict ignored his wife, but he brought his voice down to a calmer level. “I will not stand here and be accused of such vileness in my own house. Please leave. Do your job and find my grandson.” He turned, seemingly intending to storm from the room when Aslan stepped into his path. “Move.”
“We’re not finished,” my husband explained. He presented Benedict with another form.
The man tore the page from Aslan’s grasp and skimmed the text, brow furrowing. “What is this?”
“A warrant to collect a DNA sample.” Aslan withdrew the test kit from the brown paper bag. “You can do this amicably right now, or we have the right to arrest you for not complying with a legal court order. What will it be?”
Benedict’s shoulders fell.
Bess collapsed back on the chair, squashing her decorative pillows, and cried.
** *
The instant we landed in the Equinox, my phone rang.
Adrenaline surged as I scrambled to remove the device from my pocket.
“Oh my god. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. It must be Bryn. It’s time, Az.
” The phone got stuck. Contorting my body, half falling over the middle console, I struggled to retrieve it.
“Relax.” Aslan righted me. “Don’t panic. See what she says.”
Except, the screen did not announce an incoming call from our surrogate, and all my excitement drained as Costa’s name flashed on the screen. Likely sensing my disappointment, Aslan squeezed my shoulder. “Answer it.”
Mumbling curses, I hit Connect. “I hate you. You about gave me a heart attack,” I snapped in place of hello. “I thought you were Bryn.”
“Bah, I’m way prettier. Did you know your partner drives like a maniac? I’m scared for my life right now.”
I smiled as Aslan started the car and waited for instructions. “Jordyn is a certified defensive driving instructor. Trust me, she knows what she’s doing. What’s going on?”
“Edwards called. Imogen showed up at Sunnybrook Hospital in premature labor about an hour ago. We’re on our way, but Jordyn said to call you. She wants you to meet us there.”
“Imogen. Shit. Is Crowley with her?”
“Not that we’ve been told. Anyhow, we didn’t get a chance to collect DNA from Flynn or Jude.
Nixon was alone at the house with the liaison officer and his daughter.
They’re on their way to the hospital now, too, by the way.
Jordyn wants to give you the warrants and have you chase the other yahoos down. ”
“No. I want to talk to Imogen.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what Jordyn said.”
“We’re on our way.”
I relayed the message to Aslan, and he took off for the hospital .
“Dammit. I don’t want to chase after Jude and Flynn for DNA samples. I want to ask Imogen where the hell she’s been and nail her ass to the floor. That woman knows where her son is, or at least who he’s with. She’s been lying to us, and I don’t know why, but I intend to find out.”
Aslan rested a calming hand on my thigh. “You have to let Jordyn take this one, Quaid. We’re a phone call away from being done. If she assigns you a lesser job, there’s a reason.”
“I still want to see her. I want her to look me in the eyes and tell me the truth.”
“You and Nixon both, I’m guessing.”
***
Aslan couldn’t have been more right. We found Jordyn and Ruiz on the labor and delivery floor amidst a power struggle centered around Nixon, who seemed to want to storm his wife’s room and demand answers.
A doctor, two police officers, Diane and Ronald Walsh, their daughter Odelia, and Flynn, were there as well.
It had dissolved into a chaotic exchange of caustic words.
Flynn held his brother’s shoulders, talking to him in hushed tones.
It did nothing to simmer the fire in Nixon’s eyes.
One officer had Nixon loosely restrained so he couldn’t bolt as a doctor tried to explain something to Imogen’s raging parents, who were also demanding entrance to their daughter’s room.
Sparrow and Zoey weren’t in sight, and I hoped, for the child’s sake, our family liaison officer had taken her elsewhere or stayed back at the house .
I entered the fray, tugging Costa’s sleeve to announce my arrival and yanking him away from the crowd. He’d positioned himself on the outskirts, letting Jordyn handle the problem. Knowing my partner, she’d likely insisted on taking charge.
“What the hell is happening?”
“They won’t let Nixon or the parents in to see Imogen yet.
Apparently, she was dazed upon arrival and having contractions.
So far as I understand, she’s still lethargic, but they believe they’ve managed to stop labor.
” Costa shook his head. “Nothing is guaranteed, though. Not at this stage. They’re afraid this situation might upset her. ” He motioned to the hostile energy.
Costa leaned against my shoulder, lowering his voice. “Nixon’s losing his shit about the paternity test and wants answers.”
“Did you get his sample?”
“Yep.” Costa nodded at Flynn. “This one showed up around the same time we did. Nixon must have called him from the car. We haven’t pulled him away yet.”
We also needed a sample from Ronald, Imogen’s father, while he was at hand.
I turned to Aslan. “Can you take care of them and get the samples to the lab here at the hospital? Ensure they prioritize the results and deliver them directly to Jordyn in case we aren’t around.”
“On it.”
Costa got the keys to the Charger from Jordyn and explained where they had parked. “We came through emergency. Nixon’s sample is in the trunk along with the extra kits.”
“The lab will need a copy of the paternity test to compare,” I added. “Don’t leave them with the original.”
Aslan snagged a handful of my ass and kissed my cheek. “I’m not that stupid, Quaid. Be back shortly. ”
He headed to a bank of elevators at the end of the hall and was gone. The only person we would be missing was Jude, but the process of elimination would work in our favor. If none of the others fit the bill, we’d have to hunt him down.
Unless it was someone else altogether, but I doubted it. My gut told me whoever had taken Crowley was among the people we’d already met.
“Where’s Imogen’s room?”
Costa angled his head to a closed door a short way down the hall. “They won’t let us in either. Not yet. They want her to rest.”
I eyed the group. The doctor spoke to Nixon.
Flynn hovered nearby, clearly monitoring his brother’s temper.
Diane shouted at a nurse while Robert seemed to be doing what he could to pull her away.
The officers were focused on Nixon, probably due to the unpredictable storm in his eyes.
I could hardly blame him. Odelia looked on, amusement on her face, but paid no attention to Costa or me.
At the end of the hallway, another elevator opened, drawing my attention.
Benedict and Bess exited, dashing down the hall and into the fray.
Benedict immediately shouted at Flynn, who shouted back.
Nixon stamped a foot and demanded to see his wife.
Diane broke free from the nurse and swung her handbag at Benedict.
Bess stopped it from hitting her husband before Jordyn jumped between the two aggressors and shouted for them to knock it off.
I groaned. The situation had gone from bad to worse. At this rate, we wouldn’t get anywhere.
I nudged Costa’s arm. “Cover me.”
My best friend tore his attention from the chaos. “Why? What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going to chat with Imogen.”
“You can’t. ”
“I have a missing eight-year-old boy, and Bryn’s in labor.
She could call me at any moment to say she’s ready to have my baby, and I’m not sitting by watching this soap opera play out.
” I motioned to the fighting. “I’m done fucking around.
Imogen knows something, and I’ll be goddamned if I wait another second to find out what she’s hiding. ”
A spark shone in Costa’s eyes, and he cracked a wide smile as he stared at me, seemingly mesmerized.
“What?”
Patting my cheek, he whispered, “This ferocious attitude is exactly what made me start paying attention to you in the first place.”
I shooed his hand away with a laugh. “Look sweetie, Aslan mentioned you might bend over for me if I asked nice, but there isn’t time.”
Costa guffawed. I loved shocking him speechless. It was far too easy.
“What? You aren’t truly afraid of taking it up the ass, are you? He thinks you are, but I know better.” I gave him a slow perusal and wiggled my brows. “You’re a brave soldier, aren’t you?”
“Fuuuck. Why you gotta ruin the moment? I was offering you a compliment. Now I’m going to have nightmares. Jesus.”
Chuckling, I patted his cheek in return. “Sing my praises later, sweetheart. We’ve got work to do.” I spun him and used his body as a shield to block my presence before hissing far too close to his ear. “Pretend you never saw me.”
“Good god. Stop breathing on me. Next thing, you’ll have your tongue in my ear.”
“Mm… Sweet nothings,” I teased.
Laughing, he shoved me back. “Fuck off, Quaid. I swear to god, you’re worse every day. I can’t believe your husband lets you get away with this shit. Go do whatever the fuck you’ve gotta do. I’ve got your back. ”
“Thanks.”
And he did and always would because no matter how much I razzed or teased, Costa had become my best friend.
He moved among the group as I slipped down the hall into Imogen’s room. I had no intention of upsetting a woman who was walking the razor’s edge of labor when her child wasn’t due to be born for several weeks, but a conversation needed to be had.
I closed the door quietly behind me as Imogen opened her eyes. She must have been resting or dozing, but I figured she hadn’t been asleep based on her immediate alertness.
“Detective.” She seemed more frazzled than dazed. Her eyes were clear, if not strained at the edges.
“You’ve returned to us.”
She glanced at the door as though plotting her next move, mind visibly spinning, and I wondered how much of an influence she had on the doctors and ensuring her family was kept at bay.
For an instant, her gaze landed on the call button hooked to her bed within arm’s reach.
She didn’t move to press it. Instead, she focused on her round belly under a pale blue hospital gown.
Placing her hands on the swell, she moved them lovingly.
Her nails were neatly manicured, but her fingers were grimy, which made me wonder again where she’d taken off.
An IV ran from her arm to a tall pole beside the bed. A bag of clear fluid hung from a hook, the liquid slowly traveling along the thin tubing. She didn’t answer.
I approached the bed, scanning her head to toe.
Frizzy pieces of hair framed her face. The rest was pinned back in a messy ponytail.
Hollow cheeks, a troubled look in her eyes, and dirt-stained fingers seemed to be the only evidence she’d vanished into the unknown for a time. That and the hesitancy in her posture .
I stared at her swollen stomach, following the path of her hands as she rubbed her belly.
I thought of Bryn and the countless times I’d watched her do the same thing.
Although infrequent, I cherished the few times she’d allowed me to place my hands over her belly to feel my unborn child kicking inside her.
It was an indescribable experience that had brought me to tears, and I’d relived it every day.
“Is this one Nixon’s baby?” I asked randomly, as startled by my question as Imogen appeared to be at hearing it.
Her feigned shock didn’t fool me, and I met her gaze challengingly. “Our abductor sent another note while you were gone.”
Her face fell. Worry lines indented her forehead. She didn’t speak.
“Aren’t you going to ask what it said?” But of course she wouldn’t. She didn’t have to. She already knew.
“I have a feeling I don’t need to.”
“It was paternity test results. We’ve been led to believe your son’s abductor is Crowley’s father. Rather, his natural father with whom he shares DNA. Do you want to chime in?”
She stared at her swollen belly and shook her head. “Does Nixon know?”
“Yes. Right now, he’s tearing a strip off the doctors because they won’t let him in to see you. They’re afraid he’s too hot and might set you off. I’m not sure I blame him. It’s a hell of a blow to find out after eight years that your child isn’t your flesh and blood.”
A single tear trailed down Imogen’s cheek. She said nothing. As though noticing her dirty fingernails for the first time, she scraped at them for a second before tucking them under the covers.
I was about to ask if Sparrow was Nixon’s child when my phone rang, loud and blaring into the quiet room. My heart jumped into my throat, and my skin came alive with anticipatory goose bumps.
Imogen startled, causing the monitor beside the bed to beep .
I scrambled to retrieve the device from my pocket, ready to sprint away and leave Jordyn with this mess, only to discover Aslan’s name on the screen.
Letting out a heavy breath, my blood pressure slowed, and I connected the call. “You almost gave me a heart attack. Everyone needs to stop calling me unless their name is Bryn. What do you want?”
“Sorry, hot stuff. We have a situation.”
“I don’t need more situations.”
“I know, and it’s not good.”
I threaded my fingers through my untamed hair and spun, giving my back to Imogen as I lowered my voice. “What?”
“Clementine has been brought into the emergency room. She’s been attacked.”
“What?” The door to Imogen’s room opened as I spun back to face the woman on the bed. “What do you mean attacked?”
Imogen stared into my eyes, her face unreadable yet full of sorrow.
“I mean, someone stabbed her and left her for dead. They’re racing her into surgery right now. I’m getting all the information I can.”
“Hey! You can’t be in here,” a voice said from behind me as Aslan’s words rang in my ears, and my gaze landed on Imogen’s hands. The instant she caught me staring, she tucked them beneath the covers again and refused to meet my gaze. I’d seen enough.
An angry doctor snagged my arm and yanked me around to face him as I finally found the words to respond to my husband. “I’m on my way.”
I didn’t wait for the reprimand and shoved around the man in the lab coat as I barreled into the hallway, searching for Costa or Jordyn or someone who could explain what the hell was going on.
Table of Contents
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