Page 40

Caving, I approached the makeshift kitchen area and browsed the Keurig pods, dismissing the flavored ones and selecting a generic brand medium roast. I popped it into the machine and puzzled the buttons.

A tray of mugs sat beside it on the counter, and I examined each of them, knowing they would never have been washed to my standard.

I found a suitably clean cup and started the machine. While it brewed, I checked my phone. Nothing from Bryn. Unable to shed the anxious buzzing in my belly, I tapped her number.

She answered right away. “Hey, Quaid.”

“Hi. How far apart now?”

Her smile came through in her tone. “Not quite six and a half minutes. The contractions are a bit heavier. Nothing I can’t handle.”

I sighed. “Why is it taking so long? It’s been hours.”

“I know, sweetie. These things take time. Ow… hang on.” I listened as she practiced the breathing exercises I’d read about in books.

“Are you having one now? Are you okay? ”

She made a faint noise of acknowledgment, and I caught myself clutching the phone and breathing with her as my entire body tensed at the mere thought of her belly contracting around my baby and urging him or her to make their exit. Beads of sweat popped out across my hairline.

Costa’s gaze clashed with mine, and he winked with a knowing smile.

Nixon poked his head into the room, scanned, and left again with a look of utter disgust. I needed to talk to him if he was done chatting with Imogen. We needed to know if she’d disclosed anything about the child’s blood father.

But Bryn’s controlled breathing and the tiny noises escaping her throat as she worked through a contraction held me stationary.

I listened to her brother or his boyfriend in the background, coaching her through it and wished it was me.

I wanted to rub her back or hold her hand.

I wanted to offer her ice chips and dab a cool towel over her forehead.

I clutched the counter when a wave of dizziness hit. The machine had finished brewing my coffee, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered but Bryn and my baby.

After less than a minute—it had felt like ten—the contraction eased, and Bryn breathed normally again. “I’m good. They aren’t too bad yet.”

“It sounded bad.”

“Believe me. It’s tame.”

Tame? I was exhausted from having experienced one.

“I hate to imagine them worse. Are you sure you shouldn’t go to the hospital? Maybe I should come to the house and—”

“I’m fine, sweetie. Arden and Iggy are here, and you’ll be the first person I contact when we head out. I promise. ”

“Can I do anything?” I clutched the phone so tight the plastic case creaked.

“I’ve got all kinds of support.”

I wanted to do more, but before I could make another suggestion, the call-waiting beeped. I drew the phone from my ear to see who it was.

Aslan.

“Bryn? I have to go. Az and I are working on this case until you call, but we’ll be ready for you.”

“I know. Go do your thing.”

“Okay… But is he or she kicking still?”

“Not really. A bit of squirming now and again as they settle, but we have a good, strong heartbeat. Iggy’s been checking.”

“Okay.” Another beep from my call-waiting. “I have to go.”

I switched the phone to my other ear, balancing the device awkwardly as I took Aslan’s call and maneuvered my full mug of coffee to the counter, hoping the hospital had something that wasn’t powdered milk. I would use real sugar if I had to, but I drew the line at shelf-stable dairy.

“What’s up?”

“Where is Nixon going?”

I paused, confused. “What?”

“Nixon. He left the hospital.”

“He…” I spun and faced the crowded waiting room, puzzling Aslan’s words. “What do you mean he left? Are you sure he didn’t step outside for fresh air?”

“I thought that too, so I wrapped it up with Clementine’s parents and followed him, but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Shit. ”

Costa and Jordyn glanced up from across the room where they were chatting.

Abandoning my freshly made coffee, I bolted for the door, aiming not for the elevator but for Imogen’s room.

The constable had been joined by hospital security, and when I demanded to be let inside, the latter refused to allow it.

“You’re interfering with a case,” I barked at the burly man who stood in my way as though he had more authority than a Toronto detective.

“The patient is in distress, and I’ve been told to admit no one.”

It was then I noticed the silently flashing lights that lined the upper edge of the hallway. A doctor and nurse raced from another room and aimed for Imogen’s. When they opened the door, a woman’s soft moans hit my ears, and my stomach dropped.

“Is she in labor?”

“I’m not a doctor.”

To the constable, I asked, “What happened?”

The man eyed the security guard as though unsure who to defer to. Ultimately, he tugged me aside and shared that Nixon and Imogen had started yelling. A nurse removed Nixon, but Imogen had tried to go after him.

He shrugged, knowing I could follow the story to its natural conclusion.

“Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Costa and Jordyn came up behind me. Diane spoke with a nurse in the background, who I figured must have been explaining about Imogen. Diane held a hand to her mouth, nodding at whatever the nurse said. The distress of the conversation was palpable from thirty feet away .

I pulled Costa and Jordyn out of earshot and was about to speak when the nurse guided Diane toward Imogen’s room and allowed her entrance.

“Hey! Stop. I need to talk to you.” But Diane didn’t stop, and when the door banged closed, I was met by the brick wall of a security guard as he barred my way.

At that moment, Aslan appeared from the bank of elevators at the end of the hallway and jogged toward us.

“Tell me you found him,” I shouted before he crossed the distance.

“Nope. I looked.”

I tore a hand through my hair and growled in frustration.

“What’s going on?” Jordyn asked.

“Nixon vanished, and Imogen’s in labor.”

“Christ. Where did he go?” Costa asked, frowning.

“No idea. Aslan saw him leave the hospital less than ten minutes ago.”

“Do you think he knows where Crowley is?” Jordyn asked.

I considered but shook my head. “No… I don’t know. I have a feeling Imogen tried to get Crowley back before his parentage was outed. She knew it was coming and didn’t want Nixon to find out.”

“But she couldn’t locate him?” Aslan asked.

“I don’t think so.” I spun and paced, staring at the mountain of disconnected information we’d gathered over the past few days, trying to make sense of everything.

The money. The nanny. The hostility between family members.

If Imogen was the one who had confronted Clementine, why?

What did the nanny know? How was she involved? Why was she fired?

“I think Imogen told Nixon about her affair, and Nixon left to face off with the man involved, which means…”

“The father isn’t present,” Costa said .

“Exactly. Nixon went after him.”

A momentary silence settled over us before we all spoke at once. “Jude.”

As a unit, we turned and raced down the hall to the elevators, but Costa spun and held his hands up, blocking the way.

“Whoa, hold on. You two stay here.” He motioned to Aslan and me.

Before I could protest, my phone rang, and Costa pointed at my pocket where the sound had emerged. “And that’s exactly why.”

Confusion turned to realization, and I froze, glancing at Aslan as a shot of adrenaline flooded my system. “But… I talked to her less than ten minutes ago. It can’t be… Her contractions were still more than six minutes—”

“Answer it, Quaid,” Aslan and Costa said at the same time.

I dug my phone from my pocket and was greeted with Bryn’s name on the screen. My hand shook so badly that I struggled to connect the call. “H-hello?”

“Hi again. We’re going to the hospital. My water broke.”

My vision blurred, the floor tilted, and emotions clogged my throat as I turned to my husband.

Aslan snagged my elbow, stabilizing me on my feet as he removed the phone from my hand. “Hey, Bryn. Are you headed in?” He smiled and tugged me against his side, kissing the top of my head. “We’re already here… Okay. See you soon.”

Another hand landed on my back and rubbed comforting circles. I didn’t register who it belonged to until Costa said, “See. Stay here. We’ve got this.”

“Plus, you can keep a half-eye on the family for us,” Jordyn said.

“Not his job anymore.” Costa bumped Jordyn’s arm. “We’ll be fine.” He pressed the call button for the elevator and added, “Go have a baby, Quaid. I’ll check in soon. ”

A haze surrounded me as I watched Jordyn and Costa enter the car when it arrived. Before the elevator doors shut, I locked gazes with my best friend. He winked and mouthed, “You’ve got this.”

Then they were gone.

Aslan cradled me in his arms and rocked us gently from side to side. “Are you all right?”

“No. We can’t have a baby yet. We don’t have a name.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“And I didn’t get those clothes rewashed.”

“Not a big deal.”

“Az, I’m dizzy.”

“Breathe, hot stuff. You’re not breathing.”