My Baby, My Love

Home > Other > My Baby, My Love > Page 17
My Baby, My Love Page 17

by Dani Sinclair


  Noah took the paper from her fingers. The mailman had tried to deliver a parcel to the house that had been sent by registered mail. Since it required a signature, the mailman had delivered a yellow reminder to come by the post office to claim the item.

  “Only one person would have sent something to me at an address I didn’t even know existed. Jerome must have mailed the tapes to me to throw off suspicion, Noah. What else can it be? I’ve got no connection to that house. And that would explain why those men want me. There must be something on the tapes that will incriminate them, probably even identify them.”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. It really was the only thing that made any sense.

  “We’ll finally know what’s on those tapes that’s so valuable. If you’re finished in the bathroom, I’m going to get ready. We can drive to the post office and collect the package. Once we turn it over to the FBI, those men will be too busy running away to bother with me.”

  He hoped she was right. This was the first time he’d seen a sparkle in her eyes. Foolishly, part of him wished that he had been the one to put it there, but the sane part of him was simply glad that this was coming to an end.

  She stood and offered her mouth for a kiss.

  The simple trust of that action unbalanced him completely. “No regrets?”

  Her eyes were wide, completely guileless. He saw nothing but confidence and acceptance in her expression.

  “Should I have?”

  “No, Sydney. None at all.”

  “Good—” she kissed him quickly “—’cause I don’t have any.” And she hurried into the bathroom fairly bubbling with excitement.

  Noah smiled after her, a bit ruefully. Would he ever understand her mind?

  She’d donned another pair of shorts and pink print top. And while there was nothing overtly sexy about the top, the shorts were very short shorts leaving a wonderful expanse of leg for him to watch. She seemed so unaware of her sensuality. It delighted and amazed him.

  “All set?”

  “Yes. Thank heavens for front-clasp bras.”

  He had a sudden strong urge to unbutton that blouse and check out the front-clasp bra for himself. “I could have helped.”

  “I don’t think so,” she scolded. “We’d never leave this motel room.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  Her expression softened in memory. “No.” She gazed around. “I’m always going to have fond memories of this place.”

  “Me too. Want to take your clothes off and get naked again?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively just to hear her laugh again.

  Sydney obliged and slapped him playfully. “Later, mister. First we turn this evidence over to the police.”

  That brought all humor to a halt. “We should call Wickowski.”

  “At seven twenty-five in the morning? I know he’s dedicated, Noah, but even the FBI must sleep sometime. Would he be in his office this early? Why don’t we wait and see what the package contains first.”

  “I’ll call and leave a message,” he temporized. She was only a little smug when she turned out to be right. Wickowski wasn’t in yet. He left the message and they gathered their belongings and repacked the car.

  “This is going to be the most traveled African violet plant I’ve ever owned,” she told him. “I only hope I don’t kill it by moving it around so much.”

  “If you do, I’ll buy you another one to replace it.”

  She smiled. “How did you know they were my favorites?”

  “I’d love to take psychic credit here, but the truth is, I didn’t. You already had two large bouquets of cut flowers, so when I saw something different, I bought it.”

  “I’m glad. Someday I’m going to have a garden and a greenhouse filled with plants.”

  “A real homebody, huh?”

  She peered at him from beneath lowered lashes. “While other women dreamed of exotic careers, my dream was always to have a big old house filled with kids and animals and plants to love. Not very modern of me, I’m afraid.”

  Noah relaxed, envisioning the scene. Until now, he hadn’t given much thought to the baby as a real live human being, but he could picture Sydney inside his father’s old house, surrounded by dogs and cats and plants and kids. Two or three at least.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” she asked. “Am I boring you?”

  “Not at all. I like your dream. I just didn’t hear a husband mentioned in that scenario.”

  She blushed and shifted uncomfortably. Noah decided to let her off the hook when she changed the subject.

  “The tapes mean Jerome was helping the bank robbers, don’t they?” she asked.

  “You knew that was a possibility, Syd. I suspect we’re going to find Jerome was deep in debt. He always liked to live well.”

  “Yes. I never thought about where the money came from, but now…” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have gone back to him, you know. No matter how much money he had. Our problems weren’t about money.”

  “I know.”

  “I never thought of myself as a quitter, Noah, but I began to realize our marriage was a terrible sham that was never going to work no matter what I did. We couldn’t communicate. Not on any level. I couldn’t believe how fast or how much he changed as soon as the artificial insemination was over. It was as if all he wanted from me was the child.”

  Guilt slammed him. He should have spoken up this morning instead of building a marriage of sand castles in his mind. Sydney might very well view his proposal the same way.

  “What did you expect from marriage?” he asked cautiously.

  “I thought we’d work together to build a bond based on trust and sharing and mutual goals,” she explained. “But he changed so quickly from the man I thought I knew into this demanding, impossible person I didn’t even want to know.”

  Noah saw she wasn’t trying to score any points off his own tendency to dominate. In fact, she sounded puzzled and uncertain.

  “You’re a pretty strong personality, too, Sydney. I’d think you could hold your own against any orders he might try to give.”

  “Maybe. If things had been normal. But Jerome wouldn’t listen. He made arbitrary decisions and expected me to blindly obey. When I refused, he went into rages.”

  Noah gripped the steering wheel more tightly. “He hit you?”

  “No. But I suspect it would have come to that soon enough. His anger seemed to be escalating. His temper was unpredictable. Looking back, I think you were right that he was using our marriage to move up in the world of banking. He was promoted to assistant manager right after we announced our engagement and he was up for another promotion right before he was killed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sydney shook her head. “It was my own fault. The whole thing taught me a valuable lesson. I’ll never be tempted to rush into something as important as a marriage ever again.”

  Noah nearly ran the car off the road.

  “Noah! Look out!”

  “Sorry. What do you mean by that? Are you saying you don’t ever plan to get married again?” His stomach knotted even tighter as he saw all his carefully laid plans mentally collapsing in ruin about his head.

  “Believe me, marriage isn’t something I plan to jump into again anytime soon, if ever. Isn’t that our turnoff coming up?”

  “What? Yes.” He switched lanes, making mental switches as well. He’d had his game plan perfectly orchestrated in his mind, only to discover his opponent had left and he was playing solitaire on an empty field.

  “Noah, are you okay?”

  “Sorry, I was thinking about what you said.”

  She’d married Jerome a few months after meeting him. If she thought that had been too soon, it was highly unlikely she was going to accept a proposal from Noah after days rather than months. Time to retreat and regroup. Obviously, she considered what happened between them last night nothing more than mind-blowing sex.

  Noah pulled into the parking lot behind the post office and blin
ked in surprise.

  The small brick building was surrounded by police.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Police Chief John Hepplewhite looked from the yellow slip of paper to each of them in turn. “You should have reported this right away,” he said mildly.

  “This is right away,” Noah explained. “We found it early this morning.” He surveyed the damage inside the post office and shook his head. “Apparently our intruders found it yesterday.”

  “But why didn’t they take it with them?” Sydney asked.

  “They must not have recognized the importance until later on,” Noah said reasonably.

  Hepplewhite walked over to the usually unflappable postmistress, Bianca Tooley. Her seasoned face creased with more animation than Noah could ever remember seeing on it. A fixture at the post office ever since Noah could remember, she always had a black Labrador named Spider at her side. Her current retriever sat watching the commotion from sad, jaded eyes.

  Miss Tooley, who didn’t hold with any of that “Miz” nonsense, was giving the chief one of her cold-eyed stares. She looked pointedly at him and said something short and probably pithy, knowing Miss Tooley.

  “We’ll look for the package,” Hepplewhite said a few minutes later, “but I think we can assume it’s what the thieves were after. If so, it isn’t likely we’re going to find it. Are you going to be around?”

  “Actually, we need to go back into D.C. and check Sydney’s apartment.” At his side, she tensed, but didn’t protest. “I’ve also got to make arrangements for Jerome’s car and run a few errands, but we’ll be happy to check back.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Nothing had prepared them for the devastation they found inside Jerome’s apartment. Where the burglars had ransacked Laura’s, they’d destroyed this one. Everything breakable was smashed beyond recognition. Sofas and chairs had been slashed open, reminding Noah of the mattress back at his place.

  “Someone was angry. This looks like spite to me.”

  “How could they do all this damage, yet no one heard a thing?” Sydney whispered, stricken by the extent of the mess.

  He touched her back in silent support. “Most people work, Syd. If I was a burglar, I’d go in during the day posing as a repair person. No one would look twice.”

  “So where do we start? I’m not even sure what we’re looking for. If Jerome had any tapes here they would have found them. I mean, look at this mess, Noah.”

  “I know. I need to find his insurance information and his bank records and everything else we’ll need to close out his estate.”

  Sydney shuddered. “Try his bedroom. He kept all his files in there. I’m going to check my plants.” She picked her way carefully through the rubble.

  Pushing aside a bent piece of modern art, Noah knew instinctively that the expensive furnishings had belonged to Jerome, not Sydney. A woman who could enthuse over wainscoting and an old house wouldn’t select a black leather sectional couch for her living room. Nor did he see Sydney watching enough television to account for the wide screen set that lay smashed all over the carpeting.

  He heard a soft moan and quickly ran for the back bedroom. Sydney stood just inside, staring at the ruin. A multitude of plants had been dumped, kicked and otherwise sadly mutilated. Their dirt had been strewn over the contents of a very feminine bedroom.

  Sydney stooped over a white African violet that appeared to be still intact even though its powder-blue pot was shattered.

  “Want me to find something to put it in?” he offered gently.

  “Please.”

  She kept her back to him, but her voice was sad. He touched her back lightly before going to the kitchen to see what he could find. She accepted the unbroken glass bowl with a soft thank-you. Noah watched her scoop dirt from the floor, carefully avoiding the shards of pottery, to coat the bottom of the bowl. She placed the plant tenderly inside, adding more dirt with equal care.

  “Want some help saving the rest?”

  “No. Thank you. There isn’t much left to save. I’ll do what I can. You start going through Jerome’s stuff so we can get out of here.”

  He hesitated, then did as she asked. He found Jerome’s checkbook right away, and several bills. The total staggered him, despite what he’d half expected. Clothing was the biggest expenditure, but a number of meals and other items had been charged as well. It took time before he realized there were no insurance papers inside the room. “Sydney?”

  “What is it?” She came to the doorway pulling a large suitcase on wheels behind her.

  Noah eyed the suitcase.

  “I packed my clothing. I don’t want to have to come back.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Is there any particular place where Jerome kept his personal papers?”

  “He had a small strongbox.”

  “I found the box. The lock was broken and it’s empty.”

  “They probably dumped the contents.”

  Noah shook his head. “I found his checkbook and a collection of bills. My brother really did have a thing for expensive clothing, didn’t he?”

  “He dressed well, yes. So he was in debt?”

  “More than I figured, but I can’t find any insurance papers, no tax forms, none of the sort of papers we’re going to need to close down his estate.”

  “What would bank robbers want with those?”

  “I don’t know. Can you think of anyplace else he would have kept them?”

  She started to shake her head and paused, brushing the hair from her eyes. “You know, right before I left, he asked me to sign as a co-owner on a safety deposit box. Maybe he moved them all to the bank.”

  “Did he give you a key?”

  “No, but as his wife, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t know anything about safety deposit boxes. If your name is on the signature card—”

  “It is.”

  “Then I’m sure we can get in somehow. Let me take another quick look around and see if I can find his key.”

  The search proved fruitless. Noah gazed about the room. “Did Jerome ever take you to a place called Arnie’s?”

  Sydney looked up from the pile of clothing she was stacking on the bed. “No. I’ve never heard of it, why?”

  “Jerome ran up quite a tab there in the last month or so.”

  She shrugged. “He wasn’t much for cooking.”

  Noah continued to frown. “Have you seen a phone book anywhere in all this mess?”

  “It should be out in the kitchen near the telephone. Why?”

  “I thought maybe we’d take a ride over to Arnie’s. If Jerome was a regular there, maybe someone can tell us something about who he’s been talking to the past couple of months.”

  Sydney brightened, obviously happy for any excuse to leave.

  Arnie’s turned out to be a bar or club sort of place in a neighborhood that wasn’t particularly good. Sydney noticed Noah frowning as soon as they turned down the street.

  “This is a bad idea,” he announced.

  “It’ll be fine. It’s broad daylight, Noah. While I wouldn’t walk around at night, we shouldn’t have any problems at this hour. Look at all the traffic going by.”

  “Yeah.” But he was eyeing a young woman in skin-tight shorts with a minuscule bandeau top, wearing uncomfortably high heels. She slouched against an orange brick wall near the corner. With bright red nails you could see at a distance, she pushed at a tangle of red hair that clashed with the wall and her nails.

  Noah’s jaw set in a familiar line.

  “There’s a lot right over there,” Sydney quickly pointed out.

  The attendant was willing to let them park—for an astronomical fee. And he eyed Noah with unabashed approval. Noah put an arm around her waist as they started walking. “Stay right beside me.”

  “Am I supposed to protect you from the prostitutes or the lot attendant?”

  He flashed her an amused look. “Both. You never
fail to amaze me, you know that?”

  “Hey, I’m a city girl, Noah.”

  He squeezed her waist lightly. “Then you know this is a lousy idea. I don’t want anyone mistaking what you’re doing down here.”

  “Oh! I hadn’t thought of that.” She giggled and he tipped his head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “The idea of someone mistaking me for a streetwalker.”

  “There’s nothing funny about that.”

  His look was fiercely protective. She was both flattered and a little annoyed that he thought she couldn’t take care of herself. But then, she thought drolly, he hadn’t seen many signs of the latter.

  Noah halted in front of the heavy inlaid door marked Arnie’s. Thick, colored-glass windows prevented them from seeing inside the place.

  “Maybe we should just give this information to the police and let them come ask the questions.”

  “Chicken.” Sydney opened the door before Noah could stop her.

  It took her eyes several minutes to adapt to the air-conditioned darkness after the bright humid heat outside. A figure at the far end of the bar rose and scurried away, but every other head in the place turned to stare at them.

  Undaunted, Sydney strode forward. The bar ran almost the length of the place, culminating in a tiny stage. In front of that was a small area cleared for dancing, and beyond were tables and even a few intimate booths. Despite the darkness, the interior looked clean.

  There weren’t a whole lot of people inside and all of them were male, Sydney noticed, suddenly much too aware of her own skimpy outfit. While it wasn’t like the woman’s on the street corner, Sydney still wished she’d worn slacks. But most of the stares moved quickly from her to Noah. Hardly surprising considering how intimidating he looked.

  She drew him forward, despite the resistance she sensed and selected the table closest to the door. Reluctantly, Noah pulled out a chair and sat beside her. A waiter approached, looking bemused. “Help you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’ll have an iced tea,” Sydney announced.

  People continued staring at them. Despite the piped-in music and the noise from the television over the bar, it was awfully silent inside the restaurant.

 

‹ Prev