Page 47 of The Paternity Puzzle
It was a carefree side of the men Sawyer had never seen before, and he sat there staring at their interaction until an awkward silence fell over the room. Mendoza arched a brow in silent question.
“Um, yeah,” Sawyer said. “That’s all I needed.”
He exited as quickly as he could and strode back to his office. Sawyer opened his phone calendar, where he’d notedAlec’s contact information, and saw the entry for the fertility clinic appointment. Instead of firing off an email to share the update with Alec, Sawyer stared at his phone. He remembered the conversation with Kelsey and her suggestion to call Dr. Flores to put his worries about the insemination to rest. He dialed the clinic before he could talk himself out of it. A receptionist answered on the second ring. He expected the staff to sound harried and frustrated, but the woman was calm and sympathetic as Sawyer stated his reason for calling.
“Can I place you on a brief hold?” she asked.
“Of course. Thank you.”
Sawyer expected someone else to come on the line, an assistant or a nurse, but Dr. Flores greeted him warmly a few minutes later. She understood why he’d called but didn’t rush him or try to guide the conversation. After Sawyer finished explaining his concerns, she patiently described the safety protocols her clinic followed to prevent accidental errors.
“And I assure you, I’ve only acted with a hundred percent integrity,” Dr. Flores said. “If the allegations against Dr. Matisse are proven true, then he acted in the most egregious way. I’d never betray my patients like that. If Friday’s insemination was successful, and I do like your odds, the paternity of your child will match the choice you and Royce made at the clinic. And that’s a guarantee.”
A montage of beautiful images flickered across Sawyer’s mind, not a home movie of experiences he’d already lived but snapshots of what his future would look like. Royce and their child were at the heart of every one. He imagined his husband cradling their baby for the first time, rocking them to sleep while telling outlandish stories, dancing with their toddler in the kitchen, and picking out school supplies that were functional and fun. Everything Sawyer had been bold enough to dream was on the verge of coming true and—
“Sawyer, are you still there?” Dr. Flores asked.
Her voice snapped him back to reality, and he blinked a few times to bring his office into focus. Sawyer’s vision remained blurry, and that was when he realized his face was wet. He chuckled nervously as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Yes, I’m still here. Thank you so much for your time and your assurances.”
“My pleasure. I’ll see you at the pregnancy blood test in ten days.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After they said their goodbyes, Sawyer leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He let peace wash over him and chase away negative and scary thoughts surrounding the potential pregnancy or paternity concerns. Finding faith in a chaotic world felt like throwing himself out of an airplane without a parachute, grasping and clawing for anything to keep himself from hurtling toward his death. It was a free fall of mind fuckery, giving him a false sense of well-being one minute, only to jerk it back when the lifesaving parachute was nothing more than a mirage. Sawyer knew all too well how precarious and precious life was. He’d loved and lost. Floated like a feather and plummeted like a rock. Sawyer had dreamed and failed. Then he dared to love again. Why would anyone set themselves up for such nauseating risks? How could they not? The highest highs weren’t possible without the lowest lows, and knowing he didn’t leap alone made the risk worth it.
A phone rang in the cold case squad room and snapped him back to reality. He’d gotten so caught up in the imagery of free-falling that his stomach lurched as if he’d just landed in the chair, and Sawyer would’ve sworn his hair even rustled in the breeze. Then he heard the familiar rattle from the air-conditioning vent above his desk and laughed at himself. As much as he’d love to get lost in daydreams, he needed to focuson work. He found Alec Bishop’s email address and typed a brief message, asking him to call when it was convenient. Sawyer debated whether to add his cell phone number or just use his direct line at the SPD. He went with the latter since there was no valid reason for Alec to call him outside his office hours. Sawyer hit Send and was surprised when his desk phone rang almost immediately.
“This is Detective Sergeant Key,” he said.
“Hi, it’s Alec.” His voice was soft but eager, just as Sawyer remembered from their private chat.
“That was fast,” Sawyer said. Too fast, or were Royce’s doubts getting to him?
“I was scrolling through my inbox when your message hit. It was a convenient time for me to call, so I did. Is this a good time for you to talk?”
“Sure. I just came out of a meeting with my police chief and the county sheriff after doing a preliminary search for cases that could meet your father’s MO.”
“Wow. You didn’t waste any time. Did you find any potential matches?”
“I only have access to SPD’s cold cases, but I identified five that have all the right markers. I told Chief Mendoza and Sheriff Beecham about your intentions, and they were willing to discuss the opportunity further.”
Alec snorted. “Meaning there are hoops to jump through and hurdles to leap over. Do they realize how much funding I can provide?”
“I did point that out, but you also have to understand that our legal department will have to approve participation.”
Alec sighed heavily. “Fine.”
“You’re welcome to investigate these cases without our help,” Sawyer said calmly.
“That’s not what I want at all. I’m a team player, and I’ll prove it to you. How does your chief and his husband want me to proceed?”
The question gave Sawyer pause. He hadn’t told Alec that Mendoza and Beecham were married. It was common knowledge locally, but outsiders would only know if they’d researched the men. Alec must’ve read into Sawyer’s delayed response because he chuckled.
“Come on,” Alec said. “I did my homework on all the key players in Savannah before I pitched my idea to you at the convention. So hit me with their demands.”
“They just want you to send a formal proposal so they can submit it to the proper channels for approval.” Sawyer paused as he remembered the grievances he shared with Kelsey. “And I also have a caveat.”
“You do?” The question almost came out like a purr. Was Alec flirting with him? If he’d truly done his research, then he’d know about Royce. “Hit me with it.”