Secret Dad

by Victoria Pinder

  "I didn't know he was your connection until last night." It wasn't selfish of her to want her son home first, was it? Rafe might not have brought her Brandon today, but there was always tonight, tomorrow or the next day. He was her baby's father. Clearly she had to take precedence!

  But then, Elizabeth wanted everyone to somehow be happy. Belle was always nice to her. She sighed. "I met him last night and he said he had a hunch on Brandon’s whereabouts."

  "I should have mentioned him before. I'm sorry." Peter's lips curved into a smile. "Have faith, then. He's the best detective in Miami PD and I always get him assigned to my cases as he gets results."

  The sharpness in her stomach didn't alleviate when she pressed her hands into her sides. Her brain screamed at her that she was a fool for hoping. "Everyone keeps saying that, but I’m having a hard time believing in anything right now."

  "Try." Peter brought her close for a side hug after he noticed her shiver. "I can't believe Belle is gone." His head turned and tilted. "I just can’t. Here comes Jennifer." Liz didn't bother to look up. Peter turned her around, his voice quiet. "She’s carrying a car seat and she doesn’t have kids. She is friends with Rafe, though."

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but there were people that blocked her view. Her pulse skipped as the crowd stood in her way. She tried to maneuver so she could see. Her heart lifted as she asked, "What?"

  Peter tugged her to stand in front of him so that she could see and her entire body melted like butter on a hot summer day. People turned toward her and Peter and slowly the crowd parted. "Liz, look."

  Her hand covered her lips. She rushed through the crowd, and elbowed people to let her pass. She had to hold her baby. If he was here, she needed him in her arms. Peter placed his hand on her back and stood tall. "Brandon. He's here."

  Someone stepped on her toes, but she kicked off her high heels and turned backward to see Peter wipe a tear from his eye. "Go Liz."

  That was it. She didn't need any more pushing. She ran forward and unbuckled Brandon from the seat. Her baby boy was home. He smelled like fresh strawberries that were just plucked. She touched his cheeks and stared into his clear eyes. His hair was clean and he seemed healthy. She scooped him into her arms and hugged him tight. "My baby."

  Brandon's laughter was the same even if he weighed more than she remembered.

  She had her son. Thank you Rafe.

  Chapter 4

  Elizabeth stared at her son as he slept beside her bed in his crib, clutching a rattle she hadn’t bought him. He hadn’t quieted down until she gave it to him and now he was fast asleep.

  For hours, she couldn’t stop holding him, and Brandon hadn’t wanted out of her sight either. She had checked him finger-tip to toe and he seemed healthy, without a scratch on him. She brushed his hair over his small ear. Rafe hadn't lied. Her phone had died. She’d noticed the missed calls after she put Brandon to bed and recharged her cell.

  Now after midnight, her mother was fast asleep in her room and her son was safe at home. For the first time in ages, she could breathe.

  She studied Rafe's business card with the police department logo he’d given her the other day.

  It was late, and this was probably his office phone. She swallowed and decided to call him. She'd leave a heartfelt message of thanks. She had lost hope and now her world was spinning again. She took a deep breath, slipped outside onto her personal patio, and then dialed the number.

  On the second ring, Rafe answered, "Hello, this is Rafe Soliz."

  There was something in his deep voice that made her ache. She should have found him sooner. "Rafe, it's Liz."

  "Do you have Brandon with you?"

  She could picture his brow arched at her. Elizabeth glanced into her bedroom and her baby boy asleep in his crib. She dabbed her eyes with the tissue she'd not let go of as she nodded. "Yes, thank you so much."

  "Good. Glad my hunch was right."

  Everything in her life that was good came from Rafe. Her heart pounded, urging her to thank him but words wouldn’t be enough. She took a seat on her cushioned wicker lounger and curled her feet under her thighs. "How did you know? You mentioned that you believed the woman who’d taken him was dead."

  "I met Brandon almost a week ago during a homicide investigation."

  She clutched the phone. Brandon was fine. "What?"

  "The woman in the photo and her partner you showed me. They were suspiciously killed." Rafe’s mechanical voice held no trace of the man in Vegas.

  Coldness enveloped her as she imagined blood and bodies surrounding her baby boy. It was worse than a movie. Her throat clogged. "And Brandon?"

  "We left him in the care of the woman's sister."

  Ice ran in her veins. Her imagination was probably wild and untrue. Her breaths became shallow. "She could have hurt him."

  "But didn’t. She's a good person, a lawyer, and what we assumed was next of kin through adoption. When I saw your photos, I knew immediately Brandon was yours."

  The detective, Jose, assigned to her case never mentioned finding a child, her son. Rafe was the one who had returned their baby boy. She chewed on her lip and realized she'd have nightmares about what could have happened forever. She closed her eyes. "Rafe, you have no idea what it's like to have someone take your baby."

  "Glad you have him back and that's he's safe."

  Noises echoed from the speaker and she assumed he was moving across a room somewhere. She hugged her waist and stared at the moon. It was late and he probably needed to sleep. Most people did. She tightened her grip on her phone. "I can't ever repay you."

  "This is my job, Liz. So don’t thank me. Soon we're going to have to sit down and discuss my rights to see him."

  No one was going to take Brandon, not even Rafe. She stilled. "I can't lose him again."

  "I want to get to know him, but I don't want to fight with you."

  Air went in and out of her lungs. She had to trust Rafe. He’d brought Brandon home to her. If he’d wanted to fight her, he could have done things differently. "I know you're one of the few good ones out there. We'll figure it out.”

  “Thanks.” He then typed something into his phone as he said, “I think we should probably have him see a child therapist. We have a child psychologist at work who always gets the truth out. Brandon might need a therapist to help adjust.” Then he messaged her a link with a name. “This woman looks like she’d pass a security test and her resume would pass for the Morgans.”

  “You're right about therapy. He's only one. He can't exactly talk about this week and who knows what he saw."

  "Tomorrow. We'll talk." He yawned. "Have a nice night."

  She scooted closer to the edge of her lounge chair. "No, wait."

  "What?"

  Her breaths became faster now as she hugged her stomach again. "Why did you send Brandon with Jennifer? Why didn’t you bring him yourself?"

  More movement from his side of the phone echoed in her ear. "A few reasons. I'm just now leaving the station and it’s two in the morning. Brandon needed you but you weren't answering your phone. There was a major drug bust tonight and I couldn’t get away."

  She closed her eyes. If she’d answered her phone, she'd have rushed to the station and perhaps thrown her arms around Rafe. She shouldn't imagine it, but the image stayed branded in her mind. "My phone died. Why did you call Jennifer of all people? She's my brother's ex."

  "She's my ex too, high school, and I knew she'd help. I didn't want you to go another minute without Brandon so I found another way."

  Rafe truly was perfect. A hero. She pressed her lips together. If Jennifer was his ex, then he clearly dated beautiful women full of life. Jennifer’s painted pouty red mouth matched her dark brown hair, but if Liz tried, she’d look like a clown.

  Ordinarily she was the nice girl that guys never noticed until someone mentioned her bank account and pinks and pastels were made for her. Rafe hadn't known her last name or about her inheritance in Vegas. Somehow she had
to thank him. "You're just leaving now?"

  She heard a car door open. "Yeah."

  She stood. Brandon was sound asleep, in her home. Because of Rafe. She needed to see him again. "If you want, I’ll prepare dinner for you, as a way of saying thank you. You can stop by."

  "That's not a good idea.” It felt like an eternity passed before he added, “It's late, Liz."

  So what? They were still up. Her entire body was zapped full of energy. Truth was, all she knew about Rafe came from their one night together almost two years ago. And now, he’d saved her boy. She tugged at her ear, her earrings put away. "Rafe, we're pieces to Brandon's family. I'd like to get to know you. For instance, are you married or do you have a steady girlfriend?"

  He started his car engine. "No to both those questions. I noticed you don't wear a ring. Any boyfriend on your end?"

  "No." The idea of another man touching her, immobilized her. She shook her head as a way to loosen up, but the memory of that night in Vegas burned through her. She let it go. "I’m a single mom. Who would want me?"

  "A lot of men."

  That was never true. She was usually too reserved and men liked women full of excitement. She decided to head back inside and placed her hand on the patio door. It felt like a shadow enveloped her. She turned around but saw nothing. She bit her lip and slipped into the house, immediately locking the door. "Are you sure you won't stop by for dinner?"

  "I don't think I should."

  "Why not?" She then went to her security panel and clicked the button to ensure the house was locked and secure. Morgan security was top notch. John, her brother, had been in the FBI and tested the security details himself. No one would get to Brandon if she stayed with her family. She breathed easier and focused on Rafe.

  "Because Elizabeth Morgan, I just found out my one night in Vegas turned out to be you. I went to school with your brothers because my mother was their maid, not because we were equals. Your father wanted to ensure my mother was there to watch his boys."

  The brothers he referred to hadn't known she existed ‘til last year. Luke and Matthew had been the ones she’d depended on all her life. She sighed. "John and Peter? They are nice, but I didn't know them or your mother growing up. My father hid us away in boarding schools to punish our mother."

  "Yeah. I heard about that from my sister, Caro. Growing up in the House of Morgan was not an easy life. I watched on the sidelines how your father controlled Peter, John and Victoria. Mitch Morgan was a cruel man."

  "I'm not like them." His observations gave her pause. Both of her brothers sang Rafe's praises the moment she had asked. She went to the hallway and listened to the empty mansion. "I met the rest of my family as an adult weeks ago. Can we get lunch tomorrow and discuss Brandon?"

  Silence clung to the air for a few minutes. Finally he said, "Okay. I'll come to your house then."

  Step one in the somehow pay Rafe back for returning her son would begin then. She'd have to find out more about him to truly understand his ways and let him into her life— which felt dangerous but made her pulse hum. "Perfect. And thank you for everything."

  He made a sound deep in his throat that reminded her of Vegas as it echoed through the phone. "Don't say that."

  Her heart pounded. "One more thing." She wished she could see him right now. She’d hold him and hug him to keep him close, though a kiss might be nice too.

  "What, Liz?"

  "How did you not know about my case a week ago? Peter said you always work his cases for him. Did he not ask for you then?"

  "Not that I know of. For some reason a good friend of mine, Jose Perez, was assigned your case. He didn’t pass it along, but to be fair I helped Jennifer move furniture last weekend and took a day off. I had no idea that one day would cause me to miss you."

  "Mr. Perez never had any answers when I practically poured my heart out to him." In fact, his cold eyes seemed to assess her wallet as he’d pretended to take notes.

  "He was also working the murder investigation, which must have been his priority."

  "He doesn't matter anymore. I can't wait to repay you somehow. Bringing Brandon home saved my life."

  "You don't have to do anything; this is my job."

  "Yeah, I do." In Vegas, she'd been hypnotized by the passion in his brown eyes and then yesterday his tender touch warmed her heart. Whatever Rafe needed, she'd help him. "See you tomorrow Rafe."

  She ended the call and turned the lights out in her new mansion. With her family around, and Rafe, this was likely the best place she could ever settle down in. Tomorrow, she'd see him. Tonight she'd dream about Rafe, that is if she could sleep at all. She glanced at her son in his crib and rubbed his narrow shoulders as she counted his breaths.

  Finally, she lay on her bed. For once she had everything, including the possibility of a partner.

  Chapter 5

  Rafe shielded his eyes from the sun as he walked to his Escalade from his beach condo in Bel Harbor and swung the keys around his finger. 8:30 AM. Few people were out on the ocean and as it was a Miami winter, no local sunbathers dared the 80 degree weather yet so everything was peaceful and quiet. He hadn’t slept much last night, going over how fast his life had changed.

  Today he’d see Elizabeth and Brandon, together. He had no idea what he'd say but his pulse quickened in anticipation.

  His building had an adjacent parking lot where he was lucky enough to keep his car without a valet. His phone rang and he took off his sunglasses to read the number. Jennifer. "Hello?"

  The ex-girlfriend who never quite disappeared and kept him close as a friend, and he owed her for yesterday.

  "Rafe, I need your help."

  "Jen, not now." He tugged at his collar and climbed into his vehicle. His stomach churned, demanding a Cuban coffee and eggs.

  Her voice cajoled. "Rafe, it's important."

  Perhaps his sister was right and he shouldn’t speak to Jennifer Gonzales again, but then Caro didn't know Jen the way he did. Jen had it much harder than they did growing up. While his mother had the stigma of being a maid, they’d always had a nice home and food on the table. Not so for Jen. He started the engine of his SUV. "What is it?"

  "I need you to stop by the studio this morning."

  Had Belle Jordan been found? The question popped into his head immediately. Jennifer was on a mission to win Peter Morgan back into her life. Her every action yesterday when she’d picked up Brandon for him indicated her renewed interest in the House of Morgan. He shook his head and decided to follow Caro's advice starting now. "I'm on my way to work."

  "Rafe Soliz, we both know you worked late last night." Jen then changed her fast-paced dialogue to more of a suggestion. "No one is going to say anything if you come in late today."

  His mind went back to high school, when he’d witnessed her own father inappropriately kissing Jen’s neck and pawing her breasts. He'd been there for her then and swore he'd be there for her now. The image stayed with him even as he shook his head. "That's not how my world operates, Jen. Police officers go to work."

  "Rafe, I need to talk about what I did." Her high pitch made her sound like a younger version of herself.

  "What you did? Fine, Jen. I'm on my way." This wasn't good. Whatever she had to say was probably something he didn't want to know about, ever. He turned his car toward the highway instead of breakfast.

  She said, "Thanks Rafe."

  He clicked off his phone and threw it on the empty passenger seat. Checking the rear view he was reminded of Brandon in the back seat, gazing at him with familiar brown eyes. He’d deal with his ex, and then he’d get to see Brandon again. His heart lifted. He'd see Brandon again.

  Today was lunch with Elizabeth. He’d decided to take the whole day off. They'd set a schedule. There had to be a way he could see his son without getting too involved with any Morgan, most especially Elizabeth.

  He stopped at a gas station near Jen’s studio and picked up two cafe cubanos, one with extra sugar. He also bought a
pastry for himself and carried it into the acting studio. He maneuvered his way through a faux sunset at the faux mansion near the beach set and continued straight to Jen's dressing room. None of the cast blinked that he was there and a few nodded in recognition.

  Once he was at her door, he knocked. The door flew open as she shouted, "There you are."

  Rafe passed her a cubano that she wrapped her fingers around immediately, lowering her gaze and sipping her extra sugary coffee. He closed her dressing room door behind him. "I'm here. What's going on, Jen?"

  Her eyes opened wide surrounded by long, fake lashes—she was fully dressed in a figure-hugging ball gown. "Rafe, I lied to Peter last night."

  This was always the way. She wanted to do something she'd regret or she’d already done it and now had to confess. Her blue dressing room, furnished in white, was Jen’s private retreat, and Rafe sank down on the couch. "What?"

  She focused on a vibrant Picasso original opposite the couch. "I made him think we had sex after everyone left his house."

  His face heated with shame that she would do something like that. "Jen, why would you?"

  She sipped her coffee. "’Cause all I hear in my head is how I'm a stupid cow for losing Peter Morgan and that I have to do anything to get him back."

  Both her parents, in different ways, gave her a hard time that she didn't deserve. He knew that. Rafe tried to stay absolutely still and interject calm, rational thought. "Your mother doesn't live with you anymore." Her dad was in jail.

  She turned and slowly descended on the couch to not rip the tight dress she wore and stared at him. "Her opinion hasn't changed."

  All his life, he'd been protecting her. He stroked her arm to keep her calm. "Jen, you can't live your life in a way that pleases your mother." He took her hand.