The Deputy’s Duty

freaked out counted. Was she being paranoid to think the driver of the car had deliberately tried to run her down?

“That guy was a total jerk,” the woman muttered as she walked away to her own car.

On shaky legs, Meghan made her way upstairs. Once there she gave her name to the men at the front desk, then she was escorted through a metal detector and put on another elevator to the tenth floor.

Meghan was greeted by a fortysomething woman with red hair and stylish glasses perched on her nose. She held out her hand. “I’m Carol Marsden.”

The name of the sender on the email that set the appointment. “Nice to meet you. I’m so glad you could meet with me today.”

Carol laughed. “Not me, honey. One of the partners. Come along.”

Meghan was surprised by that news. And curious. Why was a partner in one of Boston’s biggest law firms interested in her custody case?

Carol led her to a conference room. “Mr. Dean will be right in.” A pitcher of water and glasses sat on top of the oval mahogany table.

“Please help yourself to a glass of water.” She gestured toward a sideboard with a pot of coffee steamed on a warmer next to a stack of ceramic mugs. “Or a cup of coffee.”

Meghan sat in one of the leather captain’s chairs, laid down her file folder and poured herself some water. Her hand shook. She took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Ryan was sure Roman wouldn’t come after her, especially in such a public way. There was no reason to think the incident in the parking garage was related to Christina, Georgina or Roman Wykoski. She remembered how she’d kept having the strange feeling she was being watched all weekend. Paranoid.

Still, she’d tell Ryan when she returned to Fitzgerald Bay.

A distinguished-looking man entered the room. He had to be in his sixties. His navy pin-striped suit and red tie screamed power. And money. Meghan swallowed, thankful this meeting was a free consultation.

“I’m Frank Dean,” he said, holding out a manicured hand.

She rose to shake his hand. “Meghan Henry.”

“Is this the information I requested?” He picked up the file folder.

“Yes.”

He moved to a chair across from her and silently read through the contents of the folder. When he was done, he snapped it shut and stared at her.

Nerves had Meghan’s foot tapping beneath the table.

“The letter is compelling,” Dean finally said.

“My cousin’s wish was that I raise her child.”

“I understand Christina Hennessy has been arrested and is in jail.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I knew Burke,” he admitted.

Ah. So that was why he was seeing her. “His death was a tragedy.”

He nodded. “You do realize that seeking custody of Georgina Hennessy will be a challenge.”

THIRTEEN

Meghan swallowed back the trepidation clogging her throat. “I’m up for it. I want her. I love her.”

“Good. I know Burke loved her, too. It horrifies me that Christina killed him.”

“She hasn’t been convicted of the crime,” Meghan said.

“True.” He steepled his hands. “And not our concern here today. Gaining custody of Georgina is. There are some things that need to be set in place before we bring a custody motion before a judge.”

“Like?”

“The most basic hurdle is you have no viable income. Freelance journalism hasn’t netted you very much financial stability.”

She winced. “I still have money from my parents’ life insurance.” Eventually those funds would run out, though. Something she’d known, but since she lived a frugal life as her parents had taught her, she hadn’t ever been too worried about her finances, figuring when the time came, she’d step up her income.

“Which isn’t enough to sustain you and Georgina for very long. Especially after you get my bill.”

Her stomach sank.

“We need to have something more substantial to bring before the judge to prove you can provide for the child in question.”

Blood pounded in her ears. “Like what?”

“The recent sale of a story that generates a decent wage and the possibility for future earnings. Or a job offer that will provide a steady income and benefits. Or you get married to a man with stable employment. Once that problem is solved, then we can move on to the others, which frankly aren’t many.”

She swallowed hard. Her mind raced. Good-paying jobs for more than an hourly rate were scarce in Fitzgerald Bay. She doubted waitressing at the Sugar Plum or scooping ice cream at the local parlor was what Mr. Dean had in mind. She’d have to return to Boston and pray she found something that would start right away and pay well. Her heart squeezed tight. She didn’t want to leave Fitzgerald Bay. She liked the path her life was taking there.

But the alternative was unthinkable. She had to get custody of Georgina.

She could write the piece she’d already sketched out. The article could send her career on an income- generating path if CNN picked it up, like the editor at Boston City News hoped.

Or the last option was to get married.

There was only one man she’d consider for the job of husband. Ryan.

She’d fallen in love with him. She was ready to trust her heart and life to him. He was honorable and brave. A man of integrity. Gruff at times, but with a tender heart that made her feel safe and special.

But did he love her?

Cared for her, yes.

Found her attractive, she hoped so. The way he kissed her said he did.

But love?

They hardly knew each other. At least romantically. Chasing a madwoman across state lines and one social date didn’t count as much of a courtship.

A marriage took time and commitment. A wedding couldn’t just happen overnight, either.

Unless they eloped.

An elopement would solve everything. Well, if she had a willing groom. Doubts assailed her. What if Ryan didn’t love her?

Then where would she be?

Back to the only real viable option. Writing the piece she’d promised to deliver to the editor at Boston City News.

She had to write the article. For Georgina. For herself. She couldn’t risk not writing the piece.

She only hoped and prayed she wouldn’t have to sell it.

Tonight, she would find out where she stood with Ryan. Then she’d know what she had to do.

* * *

Ryan arrived at Meghan’s house a little before six with dinner from the Sugar Plum Cafe in a to-go bag. He’d decided he wanted to spend the evening alone with Meghan instead of in public view. Already people were linking them as a couple. And strangely he didn’t mind.

He was falling for her, hook, line and sinker.

But he’d take it slow. She’d been hurt badly in the past. Something he never intended to do.

She opened the door to him with a beaming smile that took his breath away. He drew her close with his free hand. She laid her cheek against his chest. “I’m so happy to see you.”