by Jana DeLeon
Sabine put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Beau, what a moment in time.”
Beau grimaced. “Yeah. It was a moment all right. I started walking toward her and she looked at me. I could tell by the look on her face that she knew exactly who I was. She shook her head and said ‘Please leave. Leave and pretend you never saw me.’ I knew then she’d been pretending amnesia all those years. I opened my mouth to ask why. I deserved a reason. That’s when a car squealed into the parking lot. It was my father. She looked at the car and her face went completely white, filled with fear.”
Sabine sat upright and stared at him. “Oh no!”
“I immediately knew why she’d left—why she’d given me away, and why she’d stayed hidden all that time. My father jumped out of the car and took her out with a single shot to the head, then he turned the gun on himself.”
Tears ran down Sabine’s face and she wrapped her arms around him. Beau hugged her tightly, choked with emotion. “I’ve never told anyone all of that, until now.”
Sabine pulled back a bit and looked at him. “Why did you tell me, Beau?”
“Because I need you to understand how family can hurt you. Biology doesn’t make people care. Please, Sabine, I’m begging you, let this thing with your family go. Stop all contact with them. Have an attorney draw up papers stating that you relinquish any part of the estate you might be entitled to.”
Sabine pulled away from him. “I can’t,” she whispered.
Beau rose from the bed, his heart breaking in two. “What in the world could possibly be worth your life? Please explain to me why these people, these strangers, mean more to you than everyone who loves you?”
Sabine looked at the pain so clearly etched on Beau’s face and her mind raced trying to find a way to erase it. Right now he must think her incredibly shallow, or greedy for the possible inheritance, because from his standpoint, there simply couldn’t be a valid enough reason to keep oneself in such danger. She had to tell him the truth. Even if he was angrier at her than before. “My life,” she began, “is worth so much to me that I’m willing to risk it in order to save it.”
He stared at her for a moment. “That makes no sense.”
Sabine sighed. “It does if you need a bone marrow transplant.”
Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, and Sabine knew that of all the things he’d expected she might say, that wasn’t even on the list. He dropped back down on the bed next to her. “You have cancer?”
Sabine nodded. “Acute myeloid leukemia. I start treatment next week, but in the event that treatment isn’t effective…”
“You’ll need a bone marrow transplant,” Beau finished. “And the best possible scenario is a blood relative.” Beau wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Jesus, Sabine, why didn’t you tell me?”
Sabine’s body responded instantly to the warmth of Beau’s embrace, and her heart broke all over again for what she knew could never be. “I didn’t even tell Mildred about it, Beau. If Maryse hadn’t snitched, she still wouldn’t know.”
“And all that time Maryse spends in labs with scientists?”
Sabine nodded. “She’s been looking for a cure for cancer for years, and all that stuff last month brought it to a head. She hasn’t found a cure, but all the experts are fairly certain she’s found a way to prevent ninety percent of the side effects from radiation treatment.”
Beau’s face cleared in understanding. “I thought it a bit strange that someone who obviously cared about you deeply was gone so often when important things were happening, but she’s trying to push the test through to get you the drug.”
“Actually,” Sabine hedged, “she kinda already gave me a round of it. She’s been prepping me for a couple of weeks before my first treatment. But she’s pushing for the grants and the tests to make sure the formula is the best she can get. She lost her mother and father to cancer…it’s pretty much been her lifelong pursuit to not lose anyone else.”
“She must be frantic, and Mildred. She dated Maryse’s dad forever, didn’t she? That’s why you didn’t tell her.”
“I didn’t want Mildred to worry as much as I didn’t want to drag you into my problems or guilt you into helping me do something you didn’t think I should be doing.”
Beau pushed back enough so that he could look at her. “But I helped you anyway.”
Sabine nodded and brushed a tear from her cheek. “I know.”
“So, in the beginning when you were pushing me away, was it that you really weren’t interested or were you afraid to get involved because of the cancer?”
Sabine closed her eyes for a moment, trying to formulate the right response. The response that would let him know she cared without leading him on. “I still am afraid, Beau. I have feelings for you, and I’m not going to deny that, but I can’t make you any promises when I don’t know what the future holds for me. I’m not in a position to consider anyone else but myself right now, and it’s not fair to you to keep you on hold.”
Beau dropped his hands from her and stared at her for a moment. Finally, he sighed. “I think you’re wrong, but I respect your wishes.”
Sabine’s relief warred with her guilt. She didn’t deserve this man or his protection. She placed one hand on his arm. “I am so sorry that taking my case has opened wounds in you that were better off closed.”
“It’s probably time I put them to rest for good. But I’ve got to be honest with you. When this is over, I’m going to ask you to reconsider.”
Sabine nodded, praying that when it was all over, she’d have any reason at all to gamble on a future with Beau. “I’ll be waiting,” she said.
Beau leaned over and brushed his lips gently against hers. “Let’s get some rest. I know you’re as exhausted as I am.” He gathered her in his arms and they lay back on the bed. Minutes later, his breathing changed and Sabine knew he was asleep.
She lay there, enveloped in the warmth and caring of the most perfect man she’d ever met, and prayed that tonight wouldn’t be the last time she ever felt this secure.
Sabine had no idea what time it was when she opened one eye and glanced at the dresser. The red light of her cell phone blinked off and on, seemingly magnified by the darkness. Beau was snoring beside her, so she eased out from under his arm and stepped over to the dresser to retrieve her cell phone. As she pressed the message button, she crossed the room and opened the drapes, surprised to see the sun already shining brightly. Maryse was going to kill her for sleeping so late with Mildred in the hospital. She was surprised her friend hadn’t already stormed the hotel, but since Maryse was also hoping Sabine would get lucky, that probably explained everything. When she heard Martin Alford’s voice, she stiffened, frozen in place as he gave her the results of the test.
It was official. Sabine was a Fortescue.
She sank down on the end of the bed and blew out a breath. This was it. It was exactly what she’d been looking for. Well, maybe not the weirdness and definitely not the threats on her life and Mildred getting caught in the crossfire, but she was one enormous step closer to finding a matching donor. Someone in the family might not want her around, but Sabine seriously doubted that every family member was conspiring to kill her.
If they could just find whoever was trying to kill her, everything could go back to some semblance of normal, and God willing, Sabine would have plenty of time left on this earth to enjoy the pure mundane. Beau stirred and looked up at her. The expression on her face must have worried him, because he immediately sat up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. Alford called. I’m officially a Fortescue.”
Beau ran one hand through his hair. “Well, that’s a good thing, right? I mean, considering everything else. Jesus, I never thought I’d be glad for you to be related to those nuts.”
Sabine smiled. “Perspective is a real bitch sometimes.”
“Definitely.” Beau looked over at the window and frowned. “I can’t believe we slept that late.”
> “I’d like to believe I wore you out,” Sabine said and grinned, “but I’m guessing the murder games were probably a bigger exhaustion factor.”
“Well,” he said and looked her up and down, “since we’re already starting late, what’s another half hour?”
Sabine’s body immediately responded to his suggestion. Her nipples hardened and she felt an ache in her core. The same ache that Beau had quenched the night before. She hesitated for a moment, knowing this was a really, really bad idea, but then the memory of incredible pleasure overrode all common sense and she took one step toward him.
And that’s when someone banged on the motel room door.
“Sabine, Beau!” Raissa’s voice sounded outside the door. “Are you there?”
Sabine froze for an instant, then went into overdrive, tossing Beau his clothes and tugging on her own. The oddity of calm-and-collected Raissa banging on her hotel door at a time when she’d normally be opening her shop had sent Sabine into a bit of a panic. Fortunately, Beau sensed her urgency and was dressed, of sorts, before Sabine yanked open the door. Raissa burst into the room, holding a folder and looked relieved when she saw Beau there as well. “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night,” Raissa said. “Don’t you people answer your cell phones?”
Sabine felt the heat rise up her neck and shot Beau a sideways look. He didn’t look any more comfortable. At least neither of them planned on volunteering exactly why they had ignored their phones. “I overslept and was just checking messages,” Sabine said. “I’m sorry we worried you. Did you drive all the way over here for that?”
Raissa shook her head. “I’ve got some information for you, but I’m not sure what to make of it.” She opened the folder and stepped between Beau and Sabine so that they could both see the stack of papers inside. “That whole issue with the missing medical records concerned me, so I called in a favor. A lot of hospitals have started making digital backups of all their files, so I did some poking around to find out if Mudbug General had joined the wave of the future.”
Sabine stared down at the first sheet of paper. “Holy crap, Raissa. This is my dad’s file.”
Beau raised his eyebrows and looked at Raissa. “People owe you favors that include hacking a hospital’s database? I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what you did for them?”
Raissa looked a bit flustered but waved one hand in dismissal. “I don’t suppose I am. I expect you to use the information and pretend you have no idea how you got it. And don’t, for any reason, let anyone see it. My friend broke at least a hundred different laws to get this.”
Beau smiled. “Given the type of friends you have, Raissa, I’m not really interested in becoming one of your enemies. So I assume there’s something interesting in here and not just your usual run of the flu and athlete’s foot?”
“Anyone insane?” Sabine asked.
“Well,” Raissa said. “There’s nothing on Frances until she was seventeen and she was hospitalized for meningitis, but after that the rest of her file reads like something out of a Stephen King novel. That woman has some serious issues.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Sabine asked.
“Paranoid schizophrenic, according to this. Apparently they keep her fairly well-medicated so there’s minimal outbursts, but it says in her file that the last time they hospitalized her, she swore someone was coming out of the ground to get her. It’s no small wonder she’s been kept in the house and drugged to a stupor.”
“God, that’s awful,” Sabine said.
“Another interesting thing,” Raissa continued, “is that all the Fortescues are allergic to peanuts. It’s in all their records, except Catherine, but she’s a Fortescue by marriage.”
“So any of them could have guessed I had the same allergy, given that it was that prevalent in the family.”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Raissa said, “but that leads me to the really interesting part.”
Sabine stared at her. “There’s more?”
“Oh, yeah, and it’s a doozy.” Raissa flipped through a couple of sheets and pulled one from the middle of the stack. “This is part of your father’s file, except, well, take a look at the test.”
Sabine and Beau leaned over to read the line Raissa was pointing to. Sabine gasped. “He was impotent.” She read the next line out loud. “ ‘Impotency most likely as a result of scarlet fever as an infant.’ But it’s not possible.”
Raissa stared at the paper, then looked at Sabine. “Maybe it’s a huge coincidence that you favor them. Maybe you’re a distant cousin—”
“No,” Sabine interrupted. “Alford left a message this morning. The results of the DNA test were positive.”
Beau and Raissa stared at her, then looked at each other, then back at her. No one seemed to have any idea what to say. “Maybe the test was wrong,” Sabine suggested. “That can happen, right? I mean, men who have vasectomies sometimes still surprise their wives with a baby.”
Raissa frowned. “I don’t know that this is the same thing. Your father was working for a doctor at the time they ran these tests. It looks like he was taking part in some sort of medical trial, but the file doesn’t state for what. I guess anything’s possible…”
Beau shook his head. “But it’s more likely that if you’re really related, your father is a different Fortescue.”
“My mother got pregnant by a different Fortescue?” Sabine sank onto the bed, her mind whirling with a million jumbled thoughts. “But even if that were the case, that wouldn’t show up as a positive paternity, not if I were the child of some distant cousin, would it?”
“Not likely,” Raissa said. “It would have to be an uncle, or a grandparent, I think, to register that closely.”
Sabine covered her hand with her hands. “Oh, Lord, that’s awful. My dad couldn’t possibly have known, could he?”
“Don’t go down that road just yet,” Beau said. “There’s always another explanation.”
Sabine looked up at him. “Like what?”
“Well, the Fortecues could have lied about the results,” Beau said.
“Why would they do that? What could they possibly have to gain by pretending I was Adam’s daughter?”
Beau looked at Raissa, who frowned. “Maybe so you’d stop looking for your father,” Raissa said.
Sabine stared at her for a moment. “Then that means they know the truth.”
Raissa nodded. “I think they’ve always known.”
Chapter Sixteen
The shrill ring of Sabine’s cell phone cut into their conversation, and Sabine flipped it open, desperate for any possible distraction. Her mind was overloaded, her emotions overwhelmed. This was so much more confusing than she’d thought it would be. And so much more dangerous. She glanced at Beau and Raissa, who were studying her with matched looks of concern, and pressed the Talk button.
“Sabine?” Catherine Fortescue’s voice was the absolute last one she expected to hear at the moment, and the last one she was prepared to speak to.
“Ye-yes.” Sabine pointed to the phone and signaled to Beau and Raissa.
“Sabine, this is Catherine Fortescue. I hope I didn’t call too early.”
“No, Catherine,” Sabine said, trying to keep her voice calm. “I’ve been up for a while.”
“Good, then that means you’ve gotten the message from Mr. Alford about the test results. I can’t tell you how pleased the family is to have Adam’s child with us. I’m sorry we had to jump to legal proof so soon after our first meeting, but now all that unpleasantness is behind us.”
“I understand,” Sabine said, “and I told Mr. Alford that I’d expected to take the test. It wasn’t an inconvenience, I assure you.”
“Thank goodness. I was a little concerned. It’s all so tacky, really. But the reason I called is that we’d like to meet with you to get to know you better and to start working on some of the more unfortunate legal work required to set up your trust fund.”
“Oh no,” Sabi
ne protested, “I already told you I didn’t want any money.”
“The Fortescue estate is quite clear on the rules for heirs. You’re the firstborn child of a firstborn child, and that comes with certain privileges, as well as obligations, I’m afraid. While I certainly have the utmost respect for your wishes, we really don’t have much choice in the matter. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you’d like with the money once the fund is established and transferred.”
“Of course.” No point arguing. She’d just deal with it later.
“If you’re available, we’d love to have you over tonight for dinner.”
Deciding the best possible decision at the moment was no decision, Sabine said finally, “I need to check my schedule at the shop first. If that’s okay, can I give you a call in the next hour or so and let you know for sure?”
“That will be fine,” Catherine replied. “And please feel free to bring your detective friend. Mr. Alford says he has a reputation for being quite a specialist at this sort of family dynamic. He might be able to lend some advice.”
“Thank you. I’ll let him know.” Sabine said goodbye and closed the phone. Beau and Raissa were brimming with impatience. “Catherine wants me to go to dinner tonight to ‘get to know me better and start the legal work for my trust fund.’ ” She looked at Beau. “You’re invited.”
Beau shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“Nobody likes it,” Raissa pointed out, “but it does present an opportunity for the two of you to get a closer look at the Fortescues in a somewhat manageable environment. The sooner you find out what they’re hiding, the sooner Sabine’s life might get back to normal.”
Beau stared at Raissa as if she’d lost her mind. “How the hell is that manageable? Possibly confronting a killer on his own turf? Especially that turf—isolated doesn’t even begin to describe the Fortescue estate. That’s the quickest way to ensure a call to the coroner in my experience.”
Raissa shrugged. “So go about your normal business and wonder if today is the day, or if it’s going to happen in Sabine’s apartment, or her shop, or this hotel. Since Sabine’s poisoning never got out and Sabine herself hasn’t mentioned it to the family, whoever took that shot at her probably thinks the entire thing was dismissed as accidental. Same with Mildred’s accident in Sabine’s car.”