Decision (Diversion Book 8)

by Eden Winters

  She placed her tablet on her knees and leaned in, voice whisper-soft. “Do you know what good parents have in common?”

  “No.” If he did, he wouldn’t be asking for her advice.

  “They want to be good parents. That’s the first and most important step.”

  If that’s all it took, Lucky’d be fucking parent of the year. Oops. Parents of the year probably didn’t drop f-bombs right and left. “I’ve got one hell of a partner. He’ll be a good father for sure.”

  “You both will be good fathers. The child will be lucky to have you for parents.”

  ***

  Alejandro slept peacefully. “Does he look like he’s put on weight?” C’mon, kid, get better and come home. Lucky placed a hand on the glass separating him from his new son.

  “A few ounces,” Bo said. “He’s still got to put on some more weight before he can come home.”

  “How about his heart issues?” The young’un was rapidly growing on Lucky. So small. So alone. Unknowing of what a bad start he’d gotten in life. Please let Lucky not lose the little guy now.

  “The way the doctors talk, he might not need surgery. At least, not until he’s older and stronger. Too early to tell.” The grip of Bo’s hand on Lucky’s now-aching fingers told of his fears.

  ***

  Bo and Lucky sat in the Smiths’ living room, a place they’d seen a lot of in the past year. Walter stretched out in his recliner, much more relaxed than he’d been a few months ago. Near death experiences taught one what really mattered in life.

  The aroma of roast beef and apple pie pointed to Mrs. Smith in the kitchen. If Lucky drew out the conversation long enough, he might wrangle a dinner invite.

  “You’ll be happy to know that the victims in your latest case are now safe, except for the young pregnant woman, who seems to have fled.” Walter gazed over his bifocals at Lucky and Bo, blue eyes far too wise. He might as well have asked, “Did you do something?”

  Lucky exchanged eye contact with Bo. While Lucky shared more history with Walter, lately, the boss and Bo had formed a close bond.

  By unspoken agreement, Lucky acted as spokesman. “She’s safe. Remember Cruz, from the Mexico case, and the outfit he works for?”

  Walter’s eyes widened. “Yes.”

  “He arranged a safe place for her in Mexico, and secured the help she needs.” Please let him not ask for more details.

  Walter steepled his fingers under his chin. “Is there any particular reason you didn’t follow proper channels? I assume you had something to do with this development.” He trained his fierce gaze on Lucky.

  Damn the man for being too wise. “The cartels sent people after her. She’s under Nestor Sauceda’s protection. Can’t get safer than that.” Or so Lucky hoped.

  “I see. And her son?”

  Fuck. He and Bo had practiced what to say in the car, but the moment of truth stopped the words in this throat.

  Bo sat forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, face earnest. “He’s with his father, or rather, he will be once he’s released from the hospital.”

  “Oh? I’d been led to believe his father was dead.”

  Bo never blinked, staring Walter straight in the eyes. “No. He’s alive. As soon as Alejandro is stronger, his father will take him home, where that little boy will have everything he needs.”

  For long moments they engaged in a staring contest. Lucky shifted his attention from one to the other. Neither blinked.

  At last Walter settled back in his chair. “I see. You’re certain?”

  Bo maintained his stiff posture. “We’ve never been surer of anything.”

  “As your employer, your friend, and a man who upholds the law, I’ll ask again. Are. You. Sure?”

  “We appreciate your concern.” Bo never flinched; his conviction clear on his face.

  Walter turned his gaze from Bo to Lucky, raising one brow. In answer, Lucky placed his hand on Bo’s knee, presenting a united front.

  Walter shifted focus back to Bo. “Can anyone fault you? Claim you coerced the mother?”

  “It was her idea.”

  “I’d heard she’d asked lots of questions about you. Interviewing?”

  Bo nodded, losing a bit of the tension in his shoulders. “I believe so.”

  “You know I trust you two with my life, in fact I have, literally. However, I want to speak with her as soon as she’s ready. We still need her testimony.” At least Walter hadn’t switched to interrogator mode, so they still had hope of him being on their side.

  Time for Lucky to speak up. “We’ll get it from Mexico. She has bad memories of the United States. She doesn’t want to come back.”

  “Understood.” The firm set of Walter’s jowls relaxed. “So, when do I get to meet your son? Alejandro, is it? What story will you tell?”

  Bo resumed the telling, like he and Lucky practiced in the car on the drive over. They’d worked out the details last night instead of sleeping. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but we’re hoping to bring him home in about a month. As to what we’ll say, those close to us know Lucky and I have been talking about having a child through a surrogate. It just happened earlier than we planned.”

  “Well, I look forward to meeting him. Legalities?” Again Walter raised one bushy gray brow. Kinda looked like a caterpillar crawling across his face.

  The moment of truth arrived. Lucky swallowed hard and spoke up. “Won’t you be better off not knowing? Plausible deniability and all that?” The fewer people who knew the truth, the better.

  “Lucky, I’ve told you before, though I wouldn’t dare say so at work, but I think of you as a son. This includes you, Bo. Yes, I want to know what I should prepare for should I need to vouch for you.”

  Bo blew out a heavy breath. “Without my knowledge, Yolanda listed me as the father on Alejandro’s birth certificate. I never asked her to, and I only found out yesterday.”

  “What if her family challenges you? Or the father’s family?”

  “She has no family except for the father who pretty much sold her into slavery and disappeared. She’s not sure who her baby’s father is, and has reason to want to forget her time with the cartel.” Bo paused for a long moment. “It wasn’t consensual.”

  Walter closed his eyes and released a forceful exhale. “That poor girl.”

  “Even with the circumstances of her son’s birth, she wanted him in a good family, not shuffled from home to home, or worse, winding up a pawn to the cartels.” Bo sank against the back of the couch, touching Lucky at shoulder and thigh.

  Lucky put his arm around Bo. This couldn’t be easy for him. He needed support. Support Lucky could give.

  Slowly, slowly, Walter opened his eyes, cutting a sharp glance to Bo, then to Lucky. “I’ll be talking to the mother, but under the circumstances, I fully understand and can’t say I’d act any differently in your shoes.”

  The stiffness in Bo’s shoulders relaxed, returning a moment later with Walter’s added, “However, you’re acting with your heart. I’ve made it my life’s work to uphold the law.”

  Oh, fuck. Walter wasn’t going to support them on this? He’d counted on the boss to help him research the legal pros and cons of the situation.

  Walter directed a rather stern gaze at Bo. “I understand you not wanting the child in the foster system, and your willingness to take any risks to prevent the mother more pain. Tomorrow morning, I’m making a few phone calls. When you take your son home from the hospital, it will be with a clear conscience.”

  Was he saying…

  “But, Bo”—Walter’s demeanor softened, laugh lines forming around his eyes. “You will be taking your son home.”

  Oh, fuck. Bo clung to Lucky, tears in his eyes. Had anyone ever died of relief? “Thank you, sir. Oh, God, thank you so much.”

  Lucky blinked hard to clear his suddenly swimmy vision. Damned allergies.

  Walter clapped his hands together. “Now, I think congratulations are in order. Will either, or both
of you, need time off for parental leave?”

  Bo wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Lucky’s sister lives with us, takes college courses online. We’re hoping she’ll help with childcare, so we won’t have to take much time off.”

  “Good. As I said, I expect to meet him soon. Just wait until you tell Lucille.” Walter’s eyes sparkled. The Smiths never had kids of their own. Now they’d get to be honorary grandparents. Lucky easily pictured Walter and his missus spoiling the kid rotten.

  Honorary, hell. They would be the kid’s Gramps and Granny. Would she take the news as well as Lucky hoped? While he adored the boss’s wife, he knew Walter far better than Mrs. Smith.

  “Lucille!” Walter called, his booming voice holding far more affection than usual.

  Mrs. Smith hurried into the living room, untying strings and slipping her apron over her head. The genteel Southern belle would never entertain guests while dressed for cooking. “Yes, Walt?”

  Walter nodded toward Bo and Lucky. “The boys have something they want to tell you.”

  She turned her attention toward Lucky and Bo, eyebrows raised and a smile playing over her lips. Bo and Lucky shared a quiet moment. Bo had always been better with words than Lucky. He gave Bo’s hand a quiet squeeze.

  Bo said, “We have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Oh?” The diminutive white-haired lady stepped farther into the room, resting a hand on the back of Walter’s chair.

  Now that they’d gotten Walter’s blessing, Lucky might blow up if he didn’t share the news. “We have a little boy in need of a grandma.”

  “Grandma?” She placed a wrinkled hand over her heart and flicked her gaze down to her husband, who nodded. “You’re expecting a child?”

  Bo continued the story. “No, ma’am. He’s already here. His name is Alejandro Schollenberger.” He cut a glance to Lucky. “For now.”

  “How? What?” She squinted between Lucky and Bo, her puzzled frown easing into a dazzling smile. “It doesn’t matter. Congratulations!” Moving her hand from Walter’s chair to his shoulder, she asked. “Do you hear that, Walt? We’re going to be grandparents!” She cocked her head to the side a moment. “No, I guess we already are. When do we get to meet him?”

  “Soon,” Lucky replied. “He’s still in the hospital right now.”

  “There’s one more thing.” Bo’s grip tightened on Lucky’s hand. “His middle name is Gualterio. It’s Spanish for Walter.”

  Walter froze, glancing from one to the other. At last, with shimmering eyes, he said, “I’m honored.”

  Mrs. Smith ran a hand over her damp cheek, giving an audible sniff. “I can’t believe it. Grandparents. We get to be grandparents.”

  They’d told Walter and his wife the truth, and the couple had their backs. Lucky crossed the floor in three long strides, wrapping his arms around both Smiths. “I won’t be telling this at work either, but I love you, old man, Mrs. Smith.”

  Bo joined in the hugfest. Soon, they’d bring their son to meet the people who’d help guide him in life.

  Mrs. Smith abruptly pulled back. “Oh, my! Dinner should be ready. Let’s talk more around the table.”

  Walter didn’t mention Alejandro again, allowing his wife to ask all the questions, but several times during their meal, he smiled for no apparent reason.

  Lucky shifted in his seat, an unfamiliar stirring in his chest causing discomfort. Wait, not discomfort, since warmth radiated through him. Oh hell no! Was that what heart-warming meant?

  Walter and Mrs. Smith would get to be grandparents. And damned good ones.

  With the formidable Smiths in their corner, Bo and Lucky took one step closer to bringing their son home.

  Now to talk to Charlotte.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lucky eased through the front door, bracing for the questions his sister would ask: Why did I have to leave today so you and Bo could talk? What did you talk about? Where have you been? Were you working? At least he’d texted her to say he and Bo wouldn’t be home for dinner.

  Nothing. TV off, no one on couch, not even the cat.

  Ty and Charlotte must’ve gone to bed and took the pets with them. “The coast is clear,” he hissed over his shoulder. Bo crept in behind him.

  They locked up, set the alarm system, and settled into bed.

  Lucky dreamed of diapers, bottles, and walking into rooms completely filled with crying babies.

  ***

  If Lucky focused hard enough on the case, maybe he’d overcome the temptation to tell Loretta Johnson everything. Her setting up shop at Bo’s old desk put her in Lucky’s proximity way too much of the day.

  Until Walter wrangled all the legal issues, he and Bo would keep the news to himself.

  He needed to talk to his sister, and soon. Before anyone else.

  “Lucky, take a look at this.” Johnson angled her laptop screen into his field of vision.

  “What’s two deaths at two different nursing homes got to do with our case?” A case they didn’t completely own anymore and had to report to other agencies.

  “Both patients took the same blood pressure medicine.”

  “A lot of people take the same medicine.” Even as the words left his mouth Lucky opened another window on his browser and keyed in his favorite drug information site. “Both prescriptions were compounded.”

  “Right. And both facilities claimed to have tossed the empty bottles, which we both know would bring the state board of pharmacy down on them so hard folks in Alabama would hear the screaming. Then again, most of the people I spoke to wouldn’t meet my eyes, claimed ignorance, or were suspiciously absent.” Johnson drummed her nails on the desktop. “All six times I showed up unannounced. They can expect a surprise inspection within the next week.” She grinned. “Anonymous tip.”

  Lucky raised his gaze to hers. “Go talk to them again. Find out who compounds for the nursing home patients, and if anyone else takes the same medication. If you can get me a sample, I’ll buy you lunch.”

  “Bucky’s Barbeque?”

  “Wherever you want.” Treating Johnson gave him a free pass to eat ribs and French fries, right? Oh, and sweet tea.

  Lucky continued perusing grades and other records from Clifton High. Five years ago they’d ranked second in the state for academics—second to last. Now, they ranked in the top ten. How’d they turn around so fast?

  He stared at the bottle of pills on his desk, the ones he’d taken from Ty. Sooner or later he’d get to the bottom of the mess, find the connections he needed.

  And probably not like what he found. Though every minute spent at work postponed his inevitable chat with his sister.

  Oh, hell. Until he got the conversation over with, he’d be no good at work.

  ***

  Charlotte dabbed at her eyes. A box of tissues sat on one side of her on the kitchen table, a pile of soggy paper on the other. “Y’all don’t need me anymore.” Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs.

  Lucky so didn’t want to be doing this. What the hell was he supposed to say now? He’d almost be willing to keep Alejandro a secret until Charlotte gave birth to Bo’s baby. But how could he explain having a little boy living in the house for months, possibly years?

  Nope, not a good plan at all.

  “Oh, Charlotte, no.” Bo rubbed a hand over her back. “We need you. You’re family. We love you.” He mouthed, “What can I do?” over the weeping woman’s head.

  Time to man up. Lucky pulled out the next chair, parked his ass, and took his sister’s hands in his. “Look, Char. We appreciate what you offered. This has nothing to do with you not getting pregnant in the first five minutes of trying.”

  Charlotte wailed harder. Oops. Well, those sure weren’t the right words.

  Bo shot a glance Lucky’s way sharp enough to cut a two-dollar steak. “What Lucky is trying to say is, we need you now more than ever.”

  She raised her head and gave a sniffle. Her puffy eyes and red nose stabbed straight th
rough Lucky’s heart. He’d promised to always be there for her, never cause her pain. Once again, he’d failed. “You do?”

  Bo pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, such a tender gesture. Pure Bo. “Of course we do. Neither one of us has much experience with babies, and you’ve raised two kids. Plus, Andro has medical issues. You’re studying to be a nurse. Who better to have around?”

  “I can do that.” Charlotte sniffled again. “I still can’t help but think I let you two down. I mean, I offered to help make you parents, and give you a baby of your own flesh and blood.” She paled. “I’m sorry, I…”

  “Shh…” Bo stroked her hair. “It’s okay. If anyone asks, Andro is my son. Some day in the future, if you’re still willing, maybe we can try again. Give him a little brother or sister. What do you say?”

  In Lucky’s mind Bo comforted their kids through skinned knees and, later on, broken hearts. Still, his own heart ached. Seeing Charlotte disappointed damn near gutted him.

  She’d offered so much of herself to make them happy. There was no right or wrong answer here. No matter the decision, there’d be a cost.

  Lucky did all he knew to do: wrap his sister in his arms and hold on.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lucky slouched into work after an all-too-brief hospital visit, tiptoeing off the elevator and past the reception desk. Lisa, back turned while she searched for something in a filing cabinet, didn’t notice him.

  Good. Bo had promised not to share with her or anyone else in the department—yet. Her gushing about their impending arrival might derail his plans to maintain a sonofabitch image.

  All pretense of sharing a cube with Bo flew out the window the moment Lucky arrived at his desk. No sign of Bo, not even his computer docking station. Instead, pictures of Rone Johnson covered the desk, and a magnet on the filing cabinet declared, “Monday hates you too!”

  A flower pot shaped like a duck sat on the desk, overflowing with ink pens.

  Loretta Johnson sat at the next desk, typing away at her laptop. Without so much as looking up, she handed Lucky a cup of Starbucks and resumed typing.