"That's awful." His skin electrified as he sucked in his breath. The words didn't describe how gut-wrenchingly upset Peter Morgan must be, and today of all days. Because of his job, Rafe knew that life ended faster than expected, but it was their wedding day!
The last time he saw Belle was when he’d picked up his mother from work, and she’d asked his opinion on flower arrangements. Peter had worn a huge smile, telling Belle that he loved her. This was too cruel.
Jennifer pressed her lips together and then released her full mouth, knowing she could trust him. "It means if I play my cards right, I can have a second chance with Peter."
Seriously. She was going to do that again. Really? She should give up and move on with her life. How would anyone compete with a dead woman for a man's affections? Ghosts were sometimes worse than live human beings as the memories haunted forever. He hadn't forgotten his own father. He sighed as he continued to play with Brandon's grip on his fingers. "Jen, don't."
Jen heaved her ample chest as she crossed her arms. "Don't get jealous on me. We talked about us needing space yesterday. Rafe, why did you bring me here?"
Right. She had talked, assuming that he wanted her as all men must, and he’d kept his mouth shut. Today was not his day to fix all things named Jennifer Gonzales. Jen was here to ensure he kept his promise to Liz, without him telling her of their connection. Jennifer would find a way to use this development to, somehow, try and get Peter Morgan back as her own. He motioned with his free hand toward the baby. "Jen, this is Brandon."
Her nose curled as her lips went pencil thin. "I don't talk to babies."
No, she wouldn't, unless the baby was cast on one of her telenovelas. Then she'd act the part, but he knew babies hurt Jennifer to look at. She never spoke about it, but that elective stomach surgery her mother had insisted on snipped one of her ovarian tubes. She'd likely never have children of her own.
By chasing Peter Jen was on a path to get her heart broken, again. Rafe rocked the car seat. "Brandon is Elizabeth Morgan's missing son. I have an appointment, and she's not answering her phone though I have no idea why. She knew I promised to get her son to her today, if I could."
A huge smile grew on Jen’s face as she processed his words. Then she said, "She's at Peter's house. For the wedding. But now…"
Poor Peter. He fished his keys for the Escalade from his back pocket. "Can you bring Brandon to Elizabeth? I have everything of his in my car, but I am on duty until 2 AM."
Jennifer took his keys then dug in her pocketbook for hers. "Sure, it’ll be easier to switch cars. Rafe, this is wonderful."
Clearly she saw this as an opportunity to ingratiate herself. His stomach churned, but then he returned his gaze to Brandon. His mother deserved a good day. Elizabeth Morgan had been through enough, and how she’d cried as she held his arm earlier unmanned him. He had promised her he'd get Brando to her today, but he had no idea how he'd deal with her personally. If he wasn’t expected at the drug bust, he’d go to her now.
At 2 AM, she’d be in bed with Brandon beside her. So he had one night to figure out what he'd say as he needed to see Brandon again and be his dad for the rest of his life. He leaned over and ruffled the little guy's hair. "I'm glad you think so. If for whatever reason you don't see Elizabeth, come right back here. Do not leave this baby alone."
“Why, was he kidnapped and then held hostage or something?”
“Kidnapped yes, but the ones who did it are dead.”
“So I’m safe.” Jennifer stared at the diaper bag, but did nothing. Her gaze pointed to him as she silently stated she wasn't signed up for physical labor. Rafe understood her cue and picked up the car seat and baby bag as she directed him toward the door. "Don't worry. I was at the mansion when you called so I know right where she is, but I will return the boy to you if she's gone. Thank you."
He stated the obvious as he opened the door for her and the baby. "I'll help you load him into my truck."
"When will you be done?"
He sucked in his breath. He didn't need Jennifer calling him tonight. Tonight he needed a cold shower and to figure out his next move. He’d be involved in his son's life, for the rest of his life. How to process Liz/Elizabeth? "As I said, I don’t get off until 2 AM. I don't think Elizabeth should wait half the night."
"No, she shouldn't. I wanted to know in case she asked." Her gaze narrowed. "Why do you care so much?"
His cheeks felt hot. "It’s what I’m paid to do when assigned to the Morgan cases."
"Right. Okay. Whatever." She twisted her head and smiled at Brandon as if he was her meal ticket. Jennifer would eventually figure out his connection but for now it was better to avoid her questions.
They made their way out of the station and she opened the rear passenger door. Rafe locked the car seat into the base and winked at his son. He'd see him soon. Then he turned toward Jennifer who jumped into the front seat of his Escalade. He held the door for her. "Okay, be careful with Brandon."
She shrugged as he closed the door. Jen rolled down the window and started the engine. "I've never heard you sound like you care so much. Perhaps it's time for you to get married and have those children, Rafe."
Years ago, when they'd been in school together, he had pictured Jennifer as the love of his life. The image hadn’t surfaced in years, despite what she said or thought. "Are you offering to drop that Peter obsession your mother instilled in you?"
She reached out the window and patted his shoulder. "I can't, but I want you to be happy. You're too wonderful of a man to wait on the sidelines for me. I want you to get out there."
She could think what she liked. He stepped away. "Night, Jen."
She drove into the darkness bringing Brandon to Liz, which meant he’d finished his job. Rafe returned to the station and passed all the guys at their desks in the back without saying a word to anyone. At his office, he closed the door and found the keys to the police car to go to the drug bust.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth couldn't hold herself upright anymore in the shower, so she lowered herself to sit and curled her legs toward her body. The cold spray misted her bowed head as dribbles of water rushed down her nose and body. She felt numb.
Everything crashed in her mind. The best detective in the Miami Police Department was Rafe? Seriously? Her heart ached to believe him. Rafe had said that he'd get her boy home to her today. She knew better than to trust him or anyone. For the past week, no one had discovered a clue about Brandon, but her heart knew her baby was out there. Rafe made her hope.
The water splashed her shoulders, keeping her in the present, reminding her that everything can change in a heartbeat. The man she met in Vegas, who had fathered her child, had knocked on her door when she’d needed him the most.
That night his smile had told her he found her tempting. She remembered meeting him as he passed the table she sat at poker table. His walnut-shaped eyes and muscular body had made her lose her hand. The moment he’d sat next to her, in the background she heard slots and cheers, like it was a chorus, but she was mesmerized. The headiness of being near him had made her want him more than she’d wanted any other man. He hadn't known that she was Elizabeth Morgan, heiress, and had just liked her, for her.
Impossible that he was here now when she’d never expected to see him again. Outside the window in the bathroom, sunset loomed in the window that overlooked Biscayne Bay. Bile rose in her throat. The day was over.
He had failed.
Today was another end to another horrible day. She knew better than to feel anything, but her son had to be alive. The smell of his skin had faded in her mind, and she needed to hold her boy again.
A knock on the bathroom door jarred her from her thoughts. "Liz, it's almost time to go. Are you done in there?"
Her mother, Isabelle. Two days after losing Brandon, her mother had contacted her when she’d spent a lifetime without a mother at all. Then a day later, investigators tracked Brandon to Miami, where her mother intended to
go as well so she moved here too. She’d stood by her mother as Isabelle reintroduced herself to her adult children. Liz’s heart hoped she'd find Brandon soon. Reuniting with the whole Morgan family meant she had more than just her two brothers, Luke and Matthew. She'd take help from anyone as long as it brought Brandon home.
Her mother's return had been a miracle, but Liz kept her focus on Brandon. Her child had just turned a year old when he'd been ripped away. She placed both hands to her sides and pushed herself to stand in the shower. "In a minute, Mother."
Her mom’s voice echoed through the door. "I placed your dress on the bed. What shoes do you want to wear?"
Nothing truly mattered. Nothing except her lost son. The tingle up her spine told her that losing Brandon was because she was stupid and she should have known better. Her shoulders slumped. She didn't want to go to her brother's wedding, which had been planned long before she’d arrived. Liz had begged Matthew and Luke to join her tonight; she was going to ask Peter for help. She swallowed back the bitterness and took a deep breath. "My Valentinos in red, but I don't want to go, Mother."
"I know what it's like to lose your children and to find them again. Right now, your brother needs us. So, the jewelry?"
No, she'd not get another minute alone. Perhaps it was for the best. Her mother had lost all six of her children. Her brother Luke, Matthew and herself, the triplets, were all raised in boarding schools as their father ripped them from her mother's arms. Her mother had been imprisoned by her own father. The story sounded surreal, though her own mother, Isabelle, had been a rock since she let her into her life.
If only she could believe she'd find Brandon, unharmed. She turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a thick, green towel. "I'm out."
"Oh good. I'll see you in the living room in fifteen minutes so we can walk over to Peter's estate together."
“Wait!” For years she assumed her mom must be dead. Isabelle understood how she felt, losing her children and finding them again. She opened the door and spoke before Isabelle Morgan walked away. "How did you survive all those years without...?"
"There, there." Her mother turned around and then walked toward her with her arms opened. Liz’s eyes glazed with tears. "I never gave up that my children were alive and healthy and somehow I would get home to them."
Hope wasn't her friend today. Once again the sun had gone down and she would spend another sleepless night blaming herself. "You knew who had them, when I would give anything for a clue. Did that help you keep faith?”
“Yes and no.” Isabelle fisted her shaking hands. "Mitch kidnapped me and had me sent away to a bunker to keep me from all my children. He told the oldest three that I was dead, and he let you three grow up without any parents. How could Mitch possibly explain the three of you to Peter, John and Victoria? He’d have to tell them what he’d done to me. He couldn’t take you home without explaining my disappearance. I had no idea what boarding school you were in or what happened to you, but I had my faith in God that he'd keep you safe, even if it was to torture me with knowing I could never be with any of you."
"Mom, I'm scared, all the time." The whispered confession stole her strength as she sank to the edge of the bed. "Anything might happen to him."
"Don't. All we can do is pray." Her mother picked up her dress. Elizabeth dropped onto her bed, and her blanket took a few more of her tears before she stood. Without another word, she let her mother throw the dress over her shoulders. It slipped down to cover her as she’d lost weight this week. Her mother helped put the dress into place. Once she was nominally done, her mother wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight. "Your Brandon will be found. Now choose jewelry so we can get going."
Without even looking at her collection, Elizabeth picked up the set she always kept at the top and pushed the earrings on her lobes. "The diamonds are fine."
Her mother fixed the necklace around her neck and Elizabeth closed her eyes. Earlier, Rafe's touch had made her feel protected, as if Brandon would be returned. A knot in her stomach grew, warning her that she imagined far too much when it came to Rafe.
One night in Vegas did not make a man a dad and even if he was the best detective in Miami, he had failed. Tonight, she’d go to the wedding to ensure her new siblings knew her and used their influence to help her find her son. She needed the best resources and connections. She picked up her phone on the dresser and realized she hadn’t charged it. It was almost dead.
Instead of spending another night in her head with her thoughts, she followed her mother out the door. Her body was numb, but she continued forward. The walk next door to Peter's estate and her mother's old home was packed with the press who must want a peek at the wedding. In Los Angeles, no one ever wanted her picture—this was strange.
They chose to walk across the back lawn, near the Intracoastal by the lights of Miami reflected on the waters.
Her heart squeezed. Had Brandon been taken because her family had money? The investigators thought so, but then why hadn’t she received a threat with a ransom demand? She'd pay anything. The last threat that Luke had brought home to her an hour before Rafe arrived was for them to leave Miami, despite the fact that the clues led her to believe that her son was in the city, somewhere.
A few days before she’d bought the house next to her brother. Peter had the best resources money could buy and she needed to get him more involved. It was her last hope.
The second they crossed onto Peter's grounds, they saw his yacht empty of guests invited for the wedding.
Her eyes widened and she took her mom’s arm. What was wrong? Her heels slipped in the grass as they turned to go into the main house. "Wasn't the wedding to be on the water?"
"There are more people on the patio than were invited to the ceremony. Let's get to the house and find out what's going on." Her mother sped up and dragged her along. Elizabeth held her breath and prayed that nothing else was so awful as her own tragedy. The whispered voices as they drew near the house and the people milling close sent a chill down her spine, despite the tropical heat of the city.
She peered through the glass doors into the house itself. "This is quite a crowd."
Her mother grabbed Elizabeth’s arm with icy fingers. "Something is wrong."
Their family needed a break. This was too much. She swallowed and patted her mother's hand. "How do you know?"
"Feel the air."
True. Electricity coming from everyone who stared with pity and wonder at her brother told her enough. Another drama. This time it was around her brother, Peter. It was like the Morgans were cursed. Liz needed to focus on others and let go of the huge gaping hole in her heart, but she couldn't. Brandon was with her every second. She blinked away the image. "Let's go find Peter."
As they made their way inside and through the crowd the words “tragic” and “horrible” spun around them. Victoria hugged her husband Colt close and kept her daughter in the embrace. John and his wife Alice were shoulder to shoulder talking to guests as they kept others away from Peter. Elizabeth passed her siblings. “Peter?”
He turned around and the moment he realized who they were, his shoulders slumped. Then he reached out and hugged them both. "I'm glad you two are here."
Her brother deserved happiness. They all did. It seemed impossible to her right now since her own heart was missing. She sighed as he pulled away and their mother massaged his arm to keep him close. "What's going on?"
Peter's eyes glazed over, like he was explaining a nightmare that didn't sound or feel real to him. "Belle's plane crashed. We have no word on either her or the pilot."
Her heart thumped as her eyes watered. This was even worse than she could have ever imagined. Belle, Peter's wife long before their “wedding” planned for tonight, had been the first person to welcome their mother home.
Kind Belle was solid and loving, and would come over just to make sure that Elizabeth was eating. Goosebumps dotted her arms that she knew she wasn’t alone.
Her o
ther brother John, who had joined the FBI to get the goods on their father, still hadn't found any clues on Brandon's whereabouts. The Morgan name was nothing but death and misery. "Oh my God."
Peter swayed on his feet as a stranger with a question on his face despite the formal clothes for the wedding walked past them. "I don't know what to tell people."
"Don't worry about it," their mom said. Isabelle Morgan crossed her arms and shook her head. "I’ll handle the door.” No one should be here, Liz thought, but people had been invited for the wedding. Poor Peter. “Liz, stay with your brother until the rest of the family arrives."
Isabelle hugged her son and then walked away.
Right. Stick near her oldest brother, a man she’d only recently met, and offer condolences when her heart was broken too. Liz guided Peter toward a quiet corner. "What can I do?"
His head bowed, much like Luke’s did when he accepted full responsibility for something Matthew had done. Peter shouldn't feel guilty about any of this—though she never believed anyone who told her the same regarding Brandon. Finally he said, "I feel a part of me is missing, Liz. Belle was my wife though in public we were to marry tonight."
Her phone felt cold from where she’d tucked it in her bra, and she wondered if that last jolt was a signal that her battery was nearly dead. What if Brandon was found? She should be home! But for this one second, she had someone near her that felt how she did and she prayed that Peter would see her as his family and help her too. Brandon was in her heart and mind, all the time. She reached out and hugged her brother again. "I'm so sorry."
He petted her hair as he shook his head. "Don't be. You have your own issues going on."
Others coughed behind them so someone else must want to shake Peter's hand. She backed out of the hug and let him nod his head at the strangers. She hugged her waist and the moment the people walked away, she asked, "Do you truly use Rafe Soliz for detective work?"
"All the time." His fast answer made her heart quicken. He hadn't lied to her about that, just getting her son home today. Coldness enveloped her as she told herself not to hope for so much, so fast. Peter had no idea her thoughts as he continued, "I've known Rafe all my life, and he's the best. We went to school as children and his mother took us all home. I'll have him added to the search and rescue once I hear anything. I assume you spoke to him already about your son's case."
Secret Dad Page 3