Hopefully.
She wondered sometimes.
As Hunter reached the car she’d parked out front of the waterfront mansion, she didn’t feel very wise.
Mick was there.
He’s up there.
She sat in the driver’s seat without turning on the car, staring through the window at nothing but the thoughts swirling in her head.
He’s up there.
What did Charlotte mean by that? How would she know he was in a particular spot of the hotel at that moment? Mick wasn’t the kind of guy who held still for very long. Except for that time he had food poisoning—
Is he sick? Is that how she knew exactly where he was?
She turned on the car.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Maybe.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kim tucked the baby into the car seat and sat behind the wheel. The baby screamed to be released. It reminded her of times back when her high school boyfriend practiced with his band, and she’d perch in front of the speakers to show her support.
No way to get away from the noise.
She twisted in her seat and raised her voice over the din.
“Please stop. Please? We’re just going shopping and then we’ll go home and—”
Her voice crumbled, pounded to dust by the baby’s wailing. Placing a hand over each ear, she turned and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. A tear slid down her nose and into her lap.
This is my punishment.
A line she’d heard in church echoed in her head.
You reap what you sow.
How did it go? Something about sowing your sinful nature, meant you’d reap destruction. She remembered asking her mother why it was bad to sew and her mother laughed.
Kim’s stomach lurched at the thought of her mother finding out what she’d done.
She’ll know. She’ll know he isn’t Josh Jr.
A silence settled in the minivan and she peered up into the rearview mirror. Behind her, the baby, still red-faced from his fit, gnawed on his fist.
Thank you.
She turned the key and the engine roared to life.
The baby shrieked a single note that felt like an icepick through the back of Kim’s head.
Her knuckles turned white on the wheel.
I’m reaping what I sowed.
The baby wanted to go home. If she’d thought about the consequences of her kidnapping another woman’s baby at all—which she hadn’t—she would have realized the baby himself might have something to say about being torn from his mother.
The lack of information in the paper about the baby swap ate at her night and day. Why didn’t they talk about Josh Jr.? Where was he? They’d reported the baby returned wasn’t Mason Bennett, but then nothing. Did they know he was blind? Mrs. Bennett looked rich. The clothes her baby had on were worth more than every stitch of clothing Josh Jr. owned.
Maybe that woman could find a doctor who could fix Josh Jr.—in Sweden or something? She’d heard about rich people being cured in other countries. She’d fed herself that thought a thousand times in the last few days, trying to convince herself Josh Jr. was better off in his new home.
Kim started driving. At the first traffic light she pushed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
She’d written down the couple’s name and address. Shana and Carl Bennett. She’d done a few Internet searches and found their house easily enough. They lived on the beach. Well, not on the beach, but a heck of a lot closer than she did.
Josh Jr. would have a better life with them.
Oh no.
A thought hit her so hard it felt like a knife stabbed into her belly.
What if they didn’t keep Josh Jr.?
What if they weren’t even allowed to keep him?
The baby behind her found a new gear and screamed at a higher pitch.
No, no, no...
She’d felt a little ill when she read in the paper the Bennetts knew Josh Jr. wasn’t their baby. As long as they didn’t know, there remained a window for her to think. She’d imagined scenarios where she stole Josh Jr. back and replaced him with their awful baby. No one would even know. When that window closed, she kept from losing her mind by telling herself Josh Jr. would be better off with the rich couple.
But what if they didn’t keep him?
What if the police put him in an orphanage?
A horn blared. Kim jumped, startled to hear something louder than Mason Bennett.
Green light.
She hit the gas. She traveled another quarter of a mile in a daze and stopped at the next light, for once, happy to hit the light. It gave her time to think. The baby settled into quiet wet sniffles, as if he wanted her to think, too.
Josh Jr. in an orphanage.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Kim perked as a thought lighter than the dark notions roiling in her brain bobbed to the surface.
I could adopt him back.
Maybe no one would want a blind baby and she could adopt him?
No sooner had her spine straightened with this buoying thought, than her shoulders hunched again.
No. Josh would never allow her to adopt someone else’s baby. Not when he was happy to make his own kids. And they wouldn’t pass the finance hurdles adoptive parents no doubt had to clear. Not to mention the inspections. The State only had to spot the fist-sized hole in the living room wall to know Josh couldn’t deal with another screaming child. He’d been staying at the bar even later since she brought home wailing Mason Bennett.
They’d put Josh Jr. in an orphanage and he’d be adopted by another couple. They could be anyone. They’d probably be kind, if they were the sort of people to adopt
