She wanted to scream at the woman. Not out of jealousy; she wanted Roxanne to take her cheating, murdering husband. God knew she was finished with him. All she had to do was think about her parents and she was ready to crumble into little bits and pieces. The only thing holding her together was her plan to keep Mia safe.
The instant he closed the office door, his hand was around her throat, squeezing. She was plastered, her back crushed, against the wall. Instinctively, she dropped her purse and started clawing at his hand. It had no effect.
Sean was glaring down at her with what looked like total hatred in his eyes. Just as Darby was ready to pass out, he let go. She slid down the wall, crumpling on the floor. After coughing and sputtering a bit she gulped in oxygen. Sean said, “Get up.”
In a less-than-graceful fashion, Darby rose, rubbing her neck. Her bare neck. She looked down and saw that the floor was littered with her pearls. The strand must have broken during the encounter. She opened her purse and began the task of picking the pearls up off the floor. Not an easy accomplishment with your belly in the way. Sean sat behind his desk while she spent the better part of five minutes hunting around.
By the time she had what she hoped was all of them, she was seething and terrified all at once. “What do you want?” she asked as she inched toward the door.
“Did you bring the money?”
“Gary has it. I gave it to him as I was on my way out.” Sean was silent for a moment. “Is that all?” She rubbed her tender throat.
“People will notice if you don’t stay for dinner.”
Darby shook her head. “Your whole staff knows you were in here with Roxanne. That’s about as much humiliation as I care to take for one evening.”
“If you were keeping up your end in the bedroom, I wouldn’t have to look elsewhere.”
Furious that he had broken her pearls, totally humiliated, and angrier than she had ever been in her life, Darby said, “I stopped caring what you do when you killed my parents.” With an abundance of caution, Darby reached behind her and turned the knob just in case he came around the desk and grabbed her again. “In fact, why don’t you spend the night with Roxanne tonight? Finish what you started.” Darby had the door open and was back in the kitchen, hoping there was safety in public. It worked. She glanced behind her and Sean was standing in the doorway seething, but stationary.
Darby got into her car and locked the doors before she started the engine.
* * *
Sean took her seriously and didn’t come home. Darby’s back was aching, probably from wearing heels the night before, so she was slow to get out of bed.
She couldn’t wait until baby Mia arrived and she could go back to drinking coffee. Orange juice just didn’t cut it. She got dressed and realized she had a problem. She had deep purple bruises around her throat where Sean had choked her the night before. Going to her closet, she switched out her scrubs for a lighter pair, then grabbed a lightweight turtleneck. She felt like an idiot. It was going to be in the mid-eighties. She went back into her closet and selected another pair of scrubs and a scarf. This look was only slightly better than the turtleneck, but it hid the bruises. It did not, however, hide the bruises on her arm from Sean dragging her through the restaurant. So she went into the bathroom and carefully applied some makeup. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough and she could always put on the sweater she left at the office for days when she got chilly. Though those days had been few and far between since she’d been pregnant. If only the spasms in her back would go away.
It was just about sunrise and she wanted to be out of the house before Sean returned. The baby was very active, which made her back hurt more. It was going to be a long day.
But a good one. She had a seven o’clock appointment with the psychologist and a nine o’clock appointment with her OB/GYN. She could use the break in between to grab breakfast at the Sammy J’s in Cove Plaza. It was a small place tucked into a corner behind a doughnut shop with great food. Darby had bacon on the brain as she drove away from the house.
Traffic was nonexistent, so she was in front of the doctor’s office in no time. For some reason she glanced across the street at the darkened office of Jack Kavanaugh. A plan began to take shape: perhaps the trustworthy stranger was just a few feet away.
She had extra time, so she turned her car around and made the quick round-trip in less than twenty minutes. She was looking through her tote bag, out in front of the doctor’s office again, when a knock on her car door window jolted her back to the present. It was Dr. Pointer. Darby left her tote in the car, taking just her purse inside. Hearing the pearls roll around in it was an unhappy reminder of the night before.
They went to the conference room and try as she might, Darby couldn’t get comfortable. She was shifting around in her seat like a toddler.
Without preamble Fran asked, “How have you been feeling?”
Darby shrugged. “About the same. Well, almost the same.”
“Meaning?”
Darby glanced away, unable to maintain eye contact. Lying didn’t come naturally to her. “I’ve had some dreams.”
“About?”
“Hurting myself.” She paused. “Hurting the baby. I just don’t know how I’m going to cope with a newborn. I don’t have any practice with babies. When other girls my age were babysitting, I was at the barn.” She lifted her head. “One year in high school my parents let me raise a pig for the county fair.” She smiled at the memory. “Most people don’t realize that pigs are smarter than dogs. By the time the fair rolled around, my pig could sit, stay, lay down and offer his hoof. We won first place.” Her expression changed again. “Then I learned that Patty—that was my pig’s name—was off to slaughter. I put up such a fuss that my father ended up buying the pig for me. We were inseparable until she died when I started Vet school.”
Fran’s eyes followed her every gesture. It was unnerving.
“Darby, how can you think you’ll be a bad mother with your history?”
“Because it doesn’t include handling a newborn.”
Fran leaned back and her head tilted sideways. “Want to tell me about the scarf?”
Darby reflexively touched the soft fabric. “Scrubs are pretty androgynous, so I like to spruce them up now and then.”
“And the bruises on your arm?”
“I went one-on-one with a pit mix yesterday. I get bruises all the time. You can ask my staff.”
Fran moved her seat closer. “Are you safe at home?”
Darby pretended to be shocked by the implication. “My husband loves me,” she insisted. “He’s totally devoted.”
“What about the baby?”
“What about her?” Darby replied.
“How does your husband feel about the baby?”
Darby shrugged. “So maybe he wasn’t thrilled at first, but once he saw the sonogram his whole demeanor changed. He’s really excited.” She proclaimed by rote.
“There are places I can recommend for you. Places where you and your baby will be safe.”
Darby gave a dismissive wave of her hand but she couldn’t maintain eye contact. “Even if Sean didn’t want the baby, which I’m telling you is false, he knows the baby inherits from the family trust and he wouldn’t be able to resist that kind of money.”
“So you fight about money?”
“No more than other couples.” That sounds lame, even to me.
“That doesn’t make sense, Darby. Your family is prominent and very wealthy. You were an only child. You mentioned in passing that your husband owns a struggling restaurant while you have a thriving practice. It wouldn’t make sense for him not to feel a tad emasculated and possibly take his frustrations out on you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you Sean isn’t like that?” Wrong! Sean is exactly like that.
“If you say so.” The doctor reached into her bag and took out a business card that she slid across the table toward Darby. “Margaret Hindel is a friend of mine an
d she runs a safe house for abused women.”
“I’m not—”
“I know. I just want you to have a resource in case you ever need it.”
God, if only it was that simple. Darby rubbed her aching back as she glanced up at the clock. “Same time on Thursday?” she asked.
The doctor nodded. She reached out her hand and closed it over Darby’s, then said, “If you need me, any time, just call.”
“Thank you,” Darby replied as she slid her hand away.
She greeted the staff at the doctor’s office on her way out. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she knew the baby needed some fuel. Glancing across the street, she noticed the lights were on in the Law Offices of Jack Kavanaugh.
Stopping at her car, she pulled out the tote and walked over.
She was totally unprepared for what she saw. Jack was definitely an attractive man, but unlike the other times she had seen him, today he was sporting a gunmetal gray, custom shirt with a lavender tie, and his dark hair looked recently cut and styled.
And he smelled good.
And Darby was being a fool. Haven’t I learned my lesson about lust at first sight? God knows I’m paying for it. Dearly.
“Do you have a few minutes?” she asked.
“I don’t have to be in court until ten.”
Well, that explained the suit and tie. He ushered her inside his cluttered office. Darby thought he was in dire need of a secretary and a trip to the Container Store.
“I assume this is about your family trust?” he asked.
She nodded as she pulled the document out of her tote and handed it to him. “It’s pretty straightforward. Upon my parents’ death, I became trustee.” She was talking while he thumbed through the pages. “Obviously there has to be an adjustment for my daughter. Should anything happen to me, she’ll need a trustee to handle the money and investments until she reaches the age of twenty-five. As you can see, the trust will pay for her living expenses, her education, and her needs as she grows up, but the bulk of the money stays in the trust until she’s an adult.”
Jack placed the papers on his desk. “The way this is set up, you became the trustee the moment your parents died. I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“If something happens to me, I want to name a successor trustee for Mia.”
He pointed at her belly. “Mia?”
Darby nodded and smiled, then she absently rubbed her belly as she spoke. “I need someone trustworthy and knowledgeable.”
His expression showed that he suddenly understood what she was getting at. “You do know I handle mostly criminal cases, right?”
“Then you’d be perfect because it would be a crime for my husband to get his hands on the money. We both know that if I was out of the picture, Sean would be the logical substitute trustee.”
“‘We both know’?” he prompted.
What the hell, he wasn’t going to judge and if he did, she had nothing to lose. Darby untied the scarf around her neck and rolled up her sleeve, baring the litany of bruises.
Jack’s expression changed and his brows pinched. “Your husband beats you?”
“So now you know why I can’t let him have control of what is rightfully Mia’s.”
“Why are you so sure you aren’t going to be around? Is it so bad that you think he’ll kill you?”
She shook her head. “So long as I keep giving him money for his failing restaurant, I’m safe.”
“You don’t look too safe,” he countered.
“I can handle Sean.”
“Looks like you’re doing a stellar job, from where I’m sitting.”
“I don’t need lectures, Mr. Kavanaugh.”
“Jack,” he corrected. “You need a divorce and an Order of Protection.”
“Which he will ignore, and the only thing that will come of it is he’ll be even angrier. And I’m his favorite target when he’s angry.”
“I have a brother who’s a PI. We could set up surveillance and—”
“I already know what I’m going to do. Now I just need to take care of the Trust.”
Jack took out a legal pad. “Who do you want to designate as the new trustee?”
“You.”
He looked up and she met his gaze. Seeing his light chocolate eyes made her stomach flip flop. God, she was such a loser. What kind of woman lusts after a man when she’s almost nine months pregnant and about to pull off a brilliant plan that will put her away for a long, long time? “You,” she repeated. “I need someone I can trust who won’t be intimidated by Sean. He is sure to go batshit when he finds out about this. But there are two people who will contact you. Please, and this is very important. Please do not let anyone know about these two women.”
She handed him her business card with Peggy’s and Lyssa’s names written on the back. “Give them whatever they need but make sure you keep anything they tell you secret. And don’t let Sean find out about them.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. I can’t tell you when; you’ll just have to trust me on that one. And the—Oh!”
“What?” Jack said as he ran around the desk to where Darby was doubled over.
“Back ache. Nothing major, just another one of the joys of pregnancy.” Slowly the cramp stopped and she looked at the clock. “I have to go to the doctor’s office now.”
“Nice idea,” Jack said. “You don’t look very good.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Should I help you over?”
“Sorry. But don’t walk me; I’d like to keep our relationship quiet for now.” She reached into her purse, ripped the lining and gave him the second cashier’s check, for five thousand dollars. “What do I owe you?”
“Fifteen hundred.”
“Here,” she said as she handed it to him. “You can just keep the remainder in escrow. I couldn’t risk writing you a check in case Sean goes over my records.”
Darby was in agony by the time she waddled across the street. She went to the receptionist, who immediately looked concerned. Then Darby realized she’d left her scarf at the law office. She covered the purplish bruises with her hand. Again in the course of fifteen minutes, her back cramped and she doubled over.
She heard the receptionist call for the nurse. Together, the two of them got her back into an exam room. Darby couldn’t get comfortable. The sharp pain was now starting near her spine, then wrapping around her abdomen.
Her OB/GYN’s partner came in; Dr. Moser had an odd smile on her face. She snapped on a pair of exam gloves as Darby removed her scrub bottoms and sat with a paper blanket draped over her on the edge of the exam table.
“Is an internal exam good for the baby this close to delivery?” Darby asked.
The doctor laughed. “Did you not read a single baby book? A due date is a guess at best. When did the back pain start?”
“Last night.”
“And you didn’t think to call?”
“And tell you what?” she asked as she scooted down and placed her feet in the stirrups. “That I had a back ache from wearing heels last night?”
“No, but you could have told me that you were in a stressful situation with your husband and I could have admitted you for observation.”
“I didn’t know that,” Darby said on a sigh.
Then her body seized and the doctor calmly said, “Breath like this…hee, hee, haw, haw. Shallow, little breaths will help with the pain.”
Darby did as she was told, but the pain didn’t seem to want to go away. It wasn’t until the cramp stopped that she realized the doctor had already removed her gloves and called out for one of the nurses.
“Darby, what you have, and have been having since yesterday, is back labor. You’re already seven centimeters dilated, so I’m thinking you’re going to have this baby in a matter of hours.”
Darby blinked. “But she isn’t due for another month.”
“Yeah, well, interesting thing about babies: they have their
own sense of timing. The nurse will help you get dressed, I’m going to call for an ambulance to take you over to the hospital.”
“I can drive. It’s not that far away.”
“You can’t drive. What you can do is call whoever you want in the delivery room with you.”
Darby immediately thought of her mother and tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn’t want Sean there, but she knew the potential danger of not telling him. Reluctantly she dialed his cell. It went to voice mail.
“I’m in labor. I’m having the baby at Martin Memorial North.”
Maybe she’d get lucky and he wouldn’t check his messages.
The ambulance was there in a matter of minutes and her exit via stretcher didn’t go unnoticed by the shopkeepers and the people on the street. But the last face she saw before they closed the ambulance door was Jack Kavanaugh’s, and he gave her an encouraging smile.
CHAPTER FIVE
Six weeks had passed since Sean had burst into the delivery room wearing a crisp shirt and the hint of Roxanne’s perfume. Things were getting worse, but Darby so adored her baby girl that she was having second thoughts about her plan. She was so enchanted with her daughter that she couldn’t imagine handing her over to Lyssa. She kept having fantasies about Sean being hit by a train, or falling victim to some other unforeseen disaster, and she often woke in a cold sweat. He was coming home at night less and less, so Darby was almost hopeful that he was going to leave her for Roxanne. Anything that got him out of the house would make her plan unnecessary.
Until this morning, this is, when Sean had backhanded her for not fixing a bottle fast enough. It was the first time he’d struck her since the first pediatrician’s visit, when the doctor had voiced concern about Mia’s lack of weight gain. He suggested they put the baby on formula. So after the visit they’d stopped and bought several varieties of formula, then went home. Sean had made her put the baby in her cradle while she made a bottle, but before she’d had the chance to even open the container, he’d shoved her into the wall. Darby slid down, off balance.
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