The question shot an arrow of guilt straight through her. “No,” she whispered. Was it her fault Bill was dead? Had she unwittingly allowed the killer access to Bill? “You think whoever did this came through the door?” Tears splashed her cheeks. “But the bedroom window was open—Bill never opened windows. I thought...”
Detective Mawlins’s features softened slightly. “We aren’t sure yet exactly how the killer entered. I know this is difficult for you,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy.
Melissa swiped the tears from her face, indicating that she was ready for him to continue his questions.
“Did your husband mention anyone who might have been angry at him? Perhaps somebody from work?”
“No, but we rarely talked about his work.”
“He owned a heating-and-cooling business, right?”
“Yes, Newman’s Climate Control.” Melissa frowned, thinking of the men who worked for Bill. She didn’t know them well, had only seen them a few times. Bill had made it a point to keep her fairly isolated. She shifted positions, trying to accommodate the dull ache in her back.
“Look, isn’t this enough for tonight?” Dominic asked. “It’s almost midnight, and Mrs. Newman has had a terrible shock.”
Melissa flashed him a grateful look. All she wanted was to lie down and stop the pain in her back, which was beginning to make it difficult for her to think.
“Just a few more questions,” Detective Mawlins replied, then focused on Melissa. “How was your marriage?”
The question caught her off guard. For the first time she realized she was the most obvious suspect, and she saw the cutting edge of suspicion in the officer’s eyes. His concern, the sympathy he’d emanated, had apparently been a ruse to lull her. “I—we—Our marriage was fine. We had some problems, like all married couples, but we were working on them.”
She bit back hysteria, hoping he didn’t see through the lie. How could she tell him she’d intended to leave Bill, that she had an escape fund hiding in the cookie jar? She’d only been waiting for the birth of the baby, then she’d intended to disappear from her husband’s life.
She suddenly realized the ugly truth. Her abusive marriage provided a strong motive for her to kill Bill. Tears once again welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face. Tears for herself and her unborn child... Tears for Bill and the mess they’d made of their lives together.
“That’s enough for tonight,” Dominic exclaimed. “If you want to ask her more questions, please do it tomorrow when she’s rested.” He held Detective Mawlins’s gaze for a long moment, then the detective slapped his notebook closed.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to stay someplace else for a couple of days. This house is a crime scene and will be in the custody of the Wilford Police Department until all the forensic evidence has been gathered.” He stood. “I’ll go with you while you pack a bag of clothing and whatever else you need for a couple of days.”
“And then I’ll drive you to Samantha’s place,” Dominic offered.
Melissa nodded and followed Detective Mawlins into the bedroom. She forced herself not to look at the bed where she’d found Bill’s lifeless body. Still in a state of shock, with ambivalent feelings roaring through her, she quickly pulled together enough clothes and toiletries for a couple of days away from home.
“You’ll be at your sister’s house?” the detective asked when they returned to the living room. “That’s Samantha Sinclair?”
“Yes.” A sickness roiled in her stomach, a combination of the pain in her back and the mistrust in the detective’s eyes.
“Come on. Let’s get you to Samantha’s.” Dominic took her by the elbow and pulled her closer, into his protective arms.
“Oh, God, they think I did it, don’t they?” she said as they reached Dominic’s car in the driveway.
“It’s only natural they’d suspect you. Right now you’re all they have.” He helped her into the car.
She watched as he walked around the front to the driver’s side. He was a handsome man, with strongly chiseled features and thick, dark hair. Although she’d noticed him several times in Samantha and Tyler’s law offices, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile.
Of course, the woman he’d loved had been brutally murdered, and he’d spent time in jail, charged with the crime. That kind of life experience could steal away smiles. Melissa knew all about losing the energy, the will, the reasons to smile.
As he got into the car, she focused her gaze out the passenger window, felt the sting of tears burning at her eyes. She knew she was experiencing some sort of emotional shock, and that sooner or later she would grieve.
Eventually she would mourn Bill’s death, even though she’d fallen out of love with him long ago. She would also mourn the death of her dreams, which had occurred the first time Bill—She shook her head to ward off the thoughts. At the moment she found it difficult to concentrate on anything except the deep, rolling pains throbbing in her back.
“You all right?” Dominic asked, casting her a quick glance before returning his gaze to the road.
“I just can’t believe this is happening.” She shifted position, in an effort to accommodate the cramping sensation, which seemed far more intense than it had moments before.
She looked back at Dominic, trying to keep her mind off the pain. “I didn’t kill him.” She wanted to tell him the truth—how she’d grown to hate Bill, fear him, but that she wasn’t capable of an act like murder. Her secrets were her own, though, and she knew to share them would muddy the waters of any investigation into Bill’s death. She would have to keep her secrets locked inside.
“I’m not the one you have to convince,” he replied, his expression not changing from one of cool detachment.
“Why would I kill my husband? The father of my child? It makes no sense.” She heard the hysterical rise of her voice, knew she was on the verge of losing all control.
“I’m sure the police will do what they can to find out who killed Bill. Right now, what you need more than anything is some rest. This will all sort itself out in the next day or two.”
Although he said the right words, his voice lacked conviction. He turned into the driveway of the impressive Dark family home. Bleakly Melissa stared at the mansion, from whose windows no lights shone.
She’d run from this house six years ago, run to Bill, believing that he would fulfill her fantasies of love forever more. God, she’d been such a young, naive fool.
“Samantha and Tyler must not be home yet,” Dominic said as he shut off the car’s engine. “Do you have a key?”
She nodded and dug through her purse to produce it. She handed it to him, then got out of the car as he did the same. He grabbed her overnight bag from the back seat, and together they walked to the front door.
“I’m sure Tyler and Samantha will be home any minute,” he said as he unlocked the door. He opened it and reached inside to turn on the entry-hall light. He dropped her bag just inside the door, then spun around to help her inside. “I’m sure everything is going to be fine, Melissa. Get a good night’s sleep and everything will be better in the morning.”
Melissa stared at him, suddenly realizing what her body had been trying to tell her for the past several hours. “Dominic, I’m going to have a baby.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replied, obviously misunder-standing what she was trying to tell him.
She grabbed his hands, squeezing tight as an overwhelming need to bear down crashed upon her. “You don’t understand,” she gasped, as a contraction gripped her stomach. “This baby is coming right now.” And at those words, her water broke.
Chapter 2
Melissa released Dominic’s hands and moaned as she sank down to the entry-hall floor. He stared at her in horror. Surely this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Oh, God, she was going to have the baby right now. There was no time to get her to the hospital, no time to wait around for help. Dominic swallowed around the lump of panic that lod
ged in his throat.
He hadn’t wanted to get involved with her in any way, had only come to her aid as a favor to her sister, and now it appeared he was going to deliver her baby. Life seemed to be hurling a series of fastballs at him, and he definitely didn’t have a mitt.
Another low moan escaped her and jolted him from his momentary inertia. He leaned down and scooped her up in his arms. There was no way he was going to let her deliver her baby on the entryway floor.
“Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight as he carried her into the living room.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, trying to reassure her despite the dread pounding in his heart. “I promise I’ll stay right here.”
He placed her on the sofa, then spied a phone on the nearby table. Grabbing the receiver, he punched in the emergency number. When the operator answered, he quickly explained the situation, indicating they needed an ambulance dispatched to the house immediately.
He didn’t stay on the line, knew the dispatcher could tell him nothing he didn’t know from the police training he’d gone through. When he hung up, he rushed into a nearby bathroom and grabbed a stack of towels.
Before he returned, Melissa had pulled up her dress and kicked off her underpants, readying herself to give birth to her baby.
Although she didn’t make a sound, he could tell the contractions were coming one after another. Her efforts reddened her face as she gasped and panted, and her hands clutched the towels convulsively.
He stood next to the sofa, trying to maintain his distance, not only physically, but emotionally as well. He knew this was her first child, and he’d always heard that first babies took a long time to be born. Surely help would get here before she actually gave birth.
Melissa reached for him. Awkwardly, he stepped closer, allowing her to grasp his hands as she rode another wave of pain.
“That’s it...breathe through it,” he said. “Breathe, don’t push,” he instructed. “For God’s sake, whatever you do, don’t push.”
“Easy for you to say,” she retorted between pants.
“Isn’t it too early? Maybe it’s just false labor,” Dominic said, although he knew he was wrong. Water didn’t break with false labor.
“There’s nothing false about this,” she exclaimed. “And it’s not that early. My due date is in two weeks,” She groaned. “I’m trying not to push...but—”
“An ambulance should be here soon. Once they get here you can push all you want.”
She nodded and bit her bottom lip.
He wanted to pull his hands away, but her grip was almost painfully strong. It should be Bill here, Dominic thought. Her husband should be here sharing this moment. But Melissa’s husband was dead. Suddenly Dominic’s need for emotional distance faded away as he realized that he was all she had.
With one hand he swept a strand of her damp, pale hair away from her forehead, unsurprised to find it soft as silk. “Help is on the way.”
Her gaze held his, and in the blue depths of her eyes, he saw gratefulness and strength. As another pain racked her body, she bore it stoically, silently, and he wondered why he’d ever gotten the impression that this woman was weak, fragile.
Her eyes rolled back in her head and she emitted shallow, rapid breaths. When she looked at him again, he saw the pain and fear that darkened the blue of her eyes. “Dominic, if I die, you have to tell Samantha and Tyler to raise the baby.” The words came between pants, through clenched teeth. “And you have to tell them...tell them I didn’t kill Bill.”
“Shh, you aren’t going to die.” Where in the hell was the ambulance? Why didn’t somebody come to help them? “It’s all right, you’re doing just fine.” His voice held nothing but cool confidence.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so glad you’re here.” Her hands clutched again, grabbing the towels so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Again Dominic was struck by the fact that she didn’t scream, didn’t cry out despite the contractions that tore through her. With a washcloth he dabbed her forehead, murmuring words of encouragement, reminding her to breathe, and praying for help to arrive.
“Help isn’t going to get here in time,” she gasped. “We’ve got to do it. We’ve got to do it right now.” Her face reddened as she bore down. Dominic set the washcloth aside and moved to her feet
After losing Abigail and being charged with her murder, Dominic had believed that nothing could ever touch him again. But when he saw the head of the baby crowning as he moved into position to aid the baby’s arrival into the world, the utter wonder of birth filled him.
“I can see the head,” he cried, a euphoria sweeping through him as he placed his hands beneath it. “Push, Melissa. Come on, you can do it. Push.”
She closed her eyes and strained, and Dominic found himself caught up in the moment, his heart pounding frantically as he gently guided the baby’s head and shoulders.
“It’s a boy,” Dominic exclaimed as he held the precious baby in his hands. The infant gave a little cough, then cried lustily.
Dominic laughed in exhilaration as he counted fingers and toes. “He’s perfect...absolutely perfect.” Pale hair decorated the top of the baby’s head and his face was reddened from his cries. A miracle.
Dominic felt a lump of emotion in the back of his throat. As he held the warm, wiggly bundle, the infant seemed to look at him, newborn blue eyes appearing to study him as the crying momentarily ceased.
For a brief moment, Dominic wished this child was his, wished that he could be there for every step of life this little boy would take.
He placed the baby on Melissa’s stomach and as her gaze captured his, he knew a bond had been established not only between mother and child, but between him and Melissa, as well. It didn’t matter that he hardly knew her; he’d just shared with her one of the most intimate, thrilling experiences two people could share.
From this moment on he would have a special place in her life, no matter what happened afterward.
Sirens wailed in the distance, then sounded closer and closer. “That must be the paramedics. I’ll go let them in,” Dominic said.
Suddenly, more than anything, he wanted to be away from this woman and the child whose first sight of the world had been his face. He needed to be away from this woman, whom tragedy had touched just before giving her ultimate joy.
“Dominic?”
He hesitated at the doorway and looked back at her. Even with her hair in damp ringlets around her face, and wearing the strain of exhaustion, she was beautiful.
“Thank you.” Her eyes grew luminous with the press of tears, and he knew that reality, when it struck, would hit her hard.
The reality was that a life had been stolen from her, and another given to her. A bittersweet exchange of souls, one to mourn, one to celebrate. He nodded, turned and went to let the paramedics into the house.
Within fifteen minutes, a stretcher bore Melissa and baby to the ambulance. Dominic had promised her he would remain behind and explain the night’s events to Samantha and Tyler.
He stood watching as the ambulance pulled out of the driveway, its lights shooting scarlet beams into the night. When the vehicle disappeared from sight, he closed the door and went back into the living room to await Samantha and Tyler’s return.
Sinking down onto the sofa, he leaned his head back and drew a deep breath. Now that the adrenaline euphoria of the birth had waned, exhaustion seeped through him. What a night.
He dreaded having to be the one to release the barrage of news to Samantha. As of tonight, not only did Samantha have a new nephew, but her brother-in-law had been murdered and the prime suspect was her younger sister, Melissa.
Dominic swiped a hand down his face and frowned thoughtfully. He believed Melissa when she said she hadn’t killed Bill, but there were questions that nagged at him, that undermined her fierce denial of guilt. And one of the biggest questions he entertained at the moment was
how Melissa had gotten the bruises on her legs.
As he’d delivered the baby, he’d noticed fading, yellowish marks on her thighs and calves, along with several livid purple areas that indicated more recent injury.
How would a young woman get such bruises? A fall? It would have to have been more than a single fall to explain the different ages of the bruises.
He shook his head, telling himself that surely there was a logical explanation. In any case, it was none of his business. She was none of his business.
Melissa awoke to early-morning sunlight streaking through the window of her hospital room. Her first conscious thought after a night of dreamless sleep was of the baby. Her baby. Her son. Her heart swelled, and she felt as if she’d accomplished something better than any woman had ever done before or would ever do after. She’d birthed a perfect, beautiful baby boy.
She turned her head to look at the baby sleeping in the infant bed next to her. Wrapped in a blue blanket, with a little blue hat covering his pale hair, he was snuggled into a ball. Joy mingled with love and flooded through her.
After the doctor had checked over the infant and pronounced him in perfect health, she’d examined him in minute detail. She’d marveled at the tiny hands with perfect little fingernails, had been awed by the blue eyes that peered at her so solemnly. Everything seemed a miracle, from the sweetness of his silky skin to the lusty cries he made when hungry.
As if aware of her scrutiny, now his little face wrinkled in a frown, and he emitted an awakening bleat for attention. Although she was sore, Melissa eased herself out of bed and to his side. She picked him up and cuddled him against her, then got back into her bed.
As she removed his cap, her heart pounded with a love she’d never felt before—a protective, maternal love that had only been hinted at during her pregnancy. She caressed the top of his head, felt the silky strands of his pale blond hair.
“You’re a sweet baby boy,” she whispered. His eyes gazed into hers with complete acceptance, abiding innocence and total trust. It was as if he knew she would never do anything to harm him.
Reluctant Dad Page 2