Adopt-a-Dad

“I already have. Her name’s Jenny.”

“I mean someone you love.”

“Like I love you guys? I don’t think so.” He gave her a hug that was meant to be reassuring, but her eyes were still troubled.

“Oh, Michael…”

“Don’t fret about him, Shelby,” Garrett said roughly, putting an arm around his sister and giving her a squeeze-almost as if he was protecting her. “Our Mike’s a big boy now. He’s got himself into this mess.”

“It’s not a mess,” Michael protested, but Garrett shook his head.

“This mess,” he repeated. “He may not see it yet, but it’s a minefield. But don’t worry, Shel. If there’s one thing Mike’s good at, it’s minefields. He’s not security chief of Maitland Maternity for nothing.”

Garrett hesitated, then sighed. This evening had got sidetracked, and he’d called them together for a purpose. “I suppose there’s no chance of you helping us look for our mother now, Mike?”

“No.”

“You being so busy with your new wife and all?”

“Get off my case, Garrett.”

“Yeah, right. But you’ll squeeze in Jake and Camille’s wedding tomorrow?”

“I don’t-”

“You’d better,” Garrett warned. “You’ve married the woman, and now it’s time she meets your family.”

“It’s not as if-”

“Just bring her tomorrow, Mike,” Garrett said heavily. “We’ll judge your new wife for ourselves.”

CHAPTER SIX

MICHAEL LEFT, and he should have gone straight home. He was tired, wasn’t he? The last sleep he’d had seemed days ago, in a hotel in El Paso.

With his wife.

The words kept drifting into his mind and staying. His wife.

She wasn’t his wife, he told himself savagely. She was just some woman he’d done a favor for. She had nothing to do with him.

The car nosed itself toward her apartment all by itself.

What was he doing? It was close to midnight. Jenny’d be asleep, and he had no business being there.

He’d just drive by to see.

To see what? He was being a dope.

But he’d just drive by, all the same.

HER LIGHT WAS ON.

He couldn’t see Jenny’s apartment from the street. It had one lousy window looking out over the fire escape at the back, but Michael knew it well enough by now. He’d just sort of head his car down the back alley where he’d parked it before and look up, and- Her light was on.

So what if it was on? So what if she was having a sleepless night?

Maybe she was having cramps again.

It had nothing to do with him, he told himself, a note of desperation entering his logic. Tomorrow he’d convince her to move into his place, but for now she didn’t want him. If her muscles cramped, then she’d just walk around until they eased. It was only for one night.

That was that. He should never have come here. He backed his car onto the street again and turned away from-

No. He didn’t turn away. His car slowed to a crawl. Another car was parked in front of the apartments.

Not just a car. A Mercedes.

This wasn’t the sort of neighborhood where you parked a Mercedes, Michael knew. For one thing, no one in this neighborhood owned such a pricey car. For another, it was careless. On Saturday nights, vandalism was at its worst, and parking expensive cars in this low-income district was asking for trouble. Michael had left his Corvette here two days ago, in broad daylight with Jenny inside, and even then there’d been trouble.

But why was the Mercedes here? And why was Jenny’s light on?

Maybe there was no connection at all. Still… Edgy, he drove slowly past the car and noticed the tiny sticker on the edge of the windshield. It was a stylish S, so small and discreet that thieves weren’t supposed to know what it stood for, but Michael did. He’d been a cop. He was trained to notice such things. The S stood for Sparchan’s Rental Service-suppliers of luxury rental cars for the well-heeled tourist.

So what was a well-heeled tourist doing parked outside this dump of an apartment block at midnight?

When Jenny’s light was on?

He didn’t like it, and suddenly his logic wasn’t driving him. Instinct was. It took him ten seconds to park the car, ignoring the threat of thieves and vandals, and another ten to race up three flights of stairs.

Jenny…

At the top of the stairs he forced himself to pause. He’d been trained too well to rush in without thought. Stop, think and live. That was his legacy from Dan. It was a hard-learned lesson, but one he’d never forget. He paused and slid along the wall, his eyes on Jenny’s door.

It was wide open, and a woman was speaking. Not Jenny. An older woman with an aristocratic English accent. Measured, controlled and icy with contempt.

“You’re coming with me, my dear. Now! If you believe I’ll allow my grandchild to be born here, then you’re even sillier than I think you are.”

Michael frowned. There was real venom behind the words.

“I’m not coming with you, Gloria.” That was Jenny. Her breathing was too fast, and it was all he could do not to rush in. “You can take your thugs and leave. I’m staying right here.”

Thugs!

Wait… Force yourself to wait, he told himself harshly. Rushing could do more harm than good.

The thugs wouldn’t be doing any physical harm, he figured, his thoughts racing. If it was Gloria, she wouldn’t allow Jenny to be hurt-not while Jenny was carrying the baby she wanted so much. Somehow Michael forced himself to keep still, straining all the time to hear.

“You’re not staying here.” Gloria’s voice lowered, became silky smooth. Michael slid silently along the wall until he was beside the doorway. He could hear but not see. Thugs, Jenny had said. How many? “It’s time this nonsense was over. I have a plane waiting to leave. The immigration people were ready to escort you there for me, and then you had to be so foolish as to take such drastic measures to avoid them. You might have known it wouldn’t work. What did you pay to have someone marry you?”

“I didn’t pay Michael. He wanted-”

“Of course you had to pay. No one would want you like this.” The woman’s voice was disdainful. “Look at you. This place is a disgrace, you’re fat and unattractive, and your breeding’s appalling. What my son saw in you-”

“Peter wanted me.”

That stopped her for a moment. “Oh, yes,” Gloria said at last, her voice an angry hiss. “My esteemed son. He wanted you. For about five minutes. You know very well the only reason he married you was that you were so low- class he knew it would upset me. You were a grubby bit of boyish rebellion, nothing more.”

“Get out,” Jenny whispered, and Michael could hear fear mixed with her anger. “Get out now, this minute, or I’ll call the police.”

“You just try it, my dear.” There was a pause, then Jenny’s breath rasped inward, as if something dreadful had been placed before her. “This is for you, my sweet daughter-in-law. We need to be sure you come quietly. Unless you agree to accompany me like the meek, quiet mother of my son’s heir.”

“No.”