My Baby, My Love

by Dani Sinclair

  “I’ll have a beer,” Noah said softly, in a voice that brooked no argument. “Anything on draft.”

  The waiter hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed and turned away.

  Sydney leaned next to Noah. She didn’t have to lean too far. He’d moved his chair so close she was practically in his lap.

  “Noah, I think this is a gay bar.”

  There was a tic in his jaw. “You noticed.”

  “You knew?”

  “Not until it was too late.” He slid his arm around her shoulders.

  “Should we leave?”

  “No. They figure we’re tourists who don’t know any better. Just keep your eyes on me and look fascinated.”

  “Fascinated?”

  He lifted her hand and deliberately began to stroke it. “Can you manage enthralled?”

  When he touched her like that, she could barely manage a coherent thought.

  “Perfect. You’re doing fine.”

  “So are you.” She looked pointedly at her hand. “Are you trying to get us arrested?”

  A hint of humor lit his eyes. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  The waiter arrived with their drinks. “New in town?”

  “Yes, we’re here to visit my brother,” Noah announced.

  The waiter relaxed a fraction. “Uh, this isn’t a great part of town for tourists,” he told them. “Especially at night.”

  “Really? My brother mentioned this place,” he told the waiter. “He eats here frequently.”

  The waiter looked perplexed again. “He does?”

  “Yeah, he and some of his…friends. In fact, one guy, Jerome something or other, was killed in a bank holdup last week. You probably heard about that. My brother was pretty upset.”

  Sydney managed to keep her mouth closed, but she wondered why Noah was pretending to be someone else’s brother.

  The waiter relaxed. “Yeah. Jerome was a regular. Shame about what happened. That guy had it all, you know? Money, looks, charm, and he wasn’t afraid to leave a good tip, if you know what I mean.”

  Noah held the man’s gaze. “I know exactly what you mean. Have you seen Gunnar recently?”

  Sydney tried not to jump at the name. The waiter’s eyes narrowed, but then he shrugged. “I don’t know any Gunnars. That your brother’s name?”

  “No, he’s Barry,” Noah said without hesitation.

  Suspicion darkened the other man’s expression. “Really?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to see him this afternoon.”

  The waiter smirked. “I guess that’s why he took off out the back door when you came in just now.”

  “He did?” Sydney gasped.

  Noah offered the man a smile. “He probably didn’t think I’d told Sydney about his preferences. But you don’t shock easily, do you, darlin’?”

  Sydney pinched his thigh under the table. “Not since I met you, at any rate.”

  “We just got married,” Noah put in.

  The waiter rocked back on his heels. “Oh. That explains it. I know I heard Barry and Jerome mention your name.”

  “My name?” Sydney asked, suddenly frightened.

  “Yeah, you know, in general conversation?”

  Noah bristled. “How general?”

  “Hey, easy man. We respect our customers’ privacy here at Arnie’s. Sydney’s sort of an unusual name, you know? That’s why I remember it. You don’t have to go all alpha here. Sydney’s not exactly their type, if you know what I mean.”

  His words didn’t seem to soothe Noah.

  “What people do behind closed doors is their business,” Sydney told the waiter with a pasted-on smile. “Barry will discover I don’t shock very easily.”

  “Hey, Lou,” the bartender called out.

  “Right there. Excuse me.”

  Noah turned and clasped her face, forcing her to look at him. “You’re enamored of me, remember?”

  “A little hard to forget.” Her mind was whizzing past all the nuances of the conversation they’d just had, but one thing jumped out like a sore thumb. “Barry was just here, Noah! Shouldn’t we go after him?”

  Noah smiled at her, but his loving look was belied by the tension that practically radiated from his rigid frame.

  “Absolutely not,” he whispered, stroking her face for the audience. “First, we don’t know for sure that Barry is the Barry Fairvale we met at the house. Second, if it is him and he was involved in that robbery, he’s a cold-blooded killer. The only reason you’re alive right now is because he wants that tape. At any point, he may decide to forget about it and make you his next victim.”

  If Noah had intended to scare her, he’d just succeeded. “Why did you pick his name when you were talking to the waiter?”

  “It was the first one that came to mind. Maybe subconsciously I recognized him when he jumped up and went out the back way.”

  “That could have backfired big time, Noah.”

  He shrugged. “You wanted information.”

  “Yes, but what do we do with it?”

  “Drink your tea. We’ll make plans once we get out of here.”

  Her mind was brimming with questions, and Noah was only confusing her further. She’d been trying to pretend last night had only been great sex. But she realized she’d never felt this connected to another person before. When Noah left, he’d take a large slice of her heart with him.

  Outside, Noah hurried them back to the parking lot to retrieve the car.

  “Was Jerome gay, Noah?” she asked as they drove away.

  “Looks that way. I’m sorry, Syd.”

  She tossed her head. “Well, I’m not. Now I don’t have to feel guilty that I never loved him.”

  Noah rested his hand on her thigh in answer. She smiled in response. Noah suddenly slammed on the brakes to avoid a stupid driver. Sydney had to retrieve the mail that sailed all over the floor.

  A powder-blue envelope stopped her in midreach. She recognized it instantly. She’d purchased a package of colored envelopes by mistake one day. This had come from the same pack. The envelope was addressed to her at the apartment she’d shared with Jerome. And the handwriting was unmistakable.

  “What’s that?” Noah asked.

  “It’s addressed to me.” Her hand began shaking. “Noah, that’s Jerome’s handwriting. It’s dated the day before he died.”

  “Open it.”

  Carefully, she tore open the back flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper. A small key fell in her lap. Sydney tried to calm the wild beating of her heart as she unfolded the sheet of lined paper.

  “‘In case anything happens to me,’” she read aloud, “‘this is the key to your safety deposit box. Don’t tell anyone you have it.’ He underlined the word anyone several times, Noah.”

  “Is that all it says?”

  “No. He goes on to say, ‘I’m sorry for everything. I’ll make it all up to you, I promise. Jerome.’”

  An invisible rock seemed to be pressing on her chest. Just when she thought she had her emotions under control, Jerome had to go and pull the plug again.

  “The bastard,” Noah muttered.

  Sydney blinked.

  “He put you at risk without a thought.”

  A car horn beeped imperiously. The traffic light had changed. Noah scowled and moved on.

  Sydney realized he was right. Jerome had used her from the start. But in a way, she’d been using him, too, trying to capture the dream of a family that had lived in her heart.

  “Let’s go check out the safety deposit box,” Noah said.

  A MIX OF FEELINGS hit Sydney as soon as she started to walk inside the familiar building with Noah. The bank was busy since it was almost time to close. But Sydney pictured it as she’d last seen it. Empty. Eerie. Waiting for death.

  Noah’s hand reassuringly touched her shoulder. What was she going to do when he wasn’t around to give her this silent support? She was coming to depend entirely too muc
h on Noah.

  She recognized most of the tellers, but there were also new people, including the assistant manager, who came forward to help them. A balding, heavyset man, he offered his condolences in a monotone, had her sign a card and led her to a small room across from the tellers. He returned a few minutes later with a surprisingly large box.

  Her heart was beating so fast she was afraid she’d faint. With a shaking hand, she handed Noah the key. “You open it.”

  Noah framed her face in his hands. “You’re a special lady, you know that?” He kissed her hard and fast. Before she could even savor the taste of him, he turned and unlocked the box.

  Noah inhaled sharply. Sydney looked inside the open box. “My God, Noah!”

  The box was packed with hundred-dollar bills. On top of one stack sat a tiny microcassette tape.

  Noah lifted the tape gingerly and set it on the table. He riffled through the bills quickly. “That’s it. Just the tape and the money.”

  “Just?” Her heart was pounding like a trip-hammer. “Noah, what was Jerome doing with all this money?”

  Noah’s expression confirmed the horrible truth.

  “The bank robbery? But how?”

  Noah shrugged. His eyes were dark with anger. “One of two ways that I can think of. He could have taken the money at closing the night before, knowing what was going to happen in the morning, or he could have come in earlier than anyone thought and helped himself before his accomplices showed up.”

  “The vaults are on a timer,” she pointed out.

  “But we don’t know what time he told his accomplices to be here.”

  “He really was involved.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you think is on the tape?”

  “Something that incriminates at least one or both of the men involved. Obviously, Jerome didn’t trust them.” He closed the box and turned the key. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What about the money?”

  “We’ll call Wickowski and let him handle things.” He slipped the tape into his pants pocket and relocked the box. Minutes later they stood in the humid heat outside the bank.

  Angry, dark clouds were closing rapidly on the horizon. The air felt charged with primal energy—or maybe that was her emotions.

  “You okay?” Noah asked.

  “Just great. The father of my baby turned out to be a gay bank robber, but I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?”

  His eyes darkened more than the sky. Thunder boomed in the distance. The clouds rushed toward them on a blast of cool air.

  “Sydney, about the baby—” Noah said sharply.

  “What?”

  “Jerome lied to you, Sydney. But this isn’t a good time for this discussion. We need to call Wickowski.”

  “You can’t just say something like that and change the subject, Noah.”

  He pointed to the fast-moving storm. “Do you want to stand here and wait for that to hit us?”

  The sky was an ugly bruise of color, closing on them fast. Sydney looked at Noah’s expression and decided now was not the ideal time to demand answers. Any more bad news and she’d probably snap.

  “It’s nearly two o’clock,” she pointed out. “I doubt if he can get here before the bank closes.”

  “I’m more concerned that we get this tape in his hands before something else happens.”

  Sydney nodded at the shop next door. She’d worked in the small jewelry store for the past five years, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. “We could call him from Gioni’s.”

  Noah scanned the parking lot tensely, then looked up as another rumble of thunder rolled overhead. “Okay.”

  There was a handful of customers inside. Mr. Gioni looked up with a happy smile when she walked in. “Sydney! It is so good to see you up and around again! You wait right there, okay? I’ll be with you un minuto.”

  “We’d like to use the telephone if that’s okay.”

  “Of course, of course. I will buzz you back.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sydney exchanged smiles with Ramona. The chubby clerk continued helping Mrs. Zettlemyer, an elderly lady who was a frequent customer.

  Noah followed Sydney silently behind the display cases. She noticed him taking in the room and the people with military precision.

  One look at her cluttered work station and Sydney yearned to be able to go back to work right then and there. If only she could make everything in her world return to what it had been before Jerome threw it into such utter chaos. She loved her work. She’d be lost without it. And if her hand didn’t heal…

  “The telephone is over there on the wall,” she told Noah.

  Sydney tuned out his conversation as she fingered her tools lightly. What did Noah know about her baby? The possibilities frightened her. Noah hung up and joined her, touching her lightly on the back.

  “Wickowski was in his car. He’s only a few minutes from here so he wants us to wait for him. Will you show me some of your designs while we wait?” he asked softly.

  She wanted to question him, but it would be too reminiscent of the luncheon discussions she’d had back here with Jerome. “Most of my things are out front.”

  The store was growing dark as the storm approached. Mr. Gioni was still tied up with a middle-aged couple while Mrs. Zettlemyer dithered happily by the window over a pair of bracelets for her niece. Sydney offered Ramona a sympathetic smile as she led Noah to the case that displayed her more expensive designs.

  “You do beautiful work,” he said sincerely, rewarding her quiet pride. He pointed to one of her more expensive and personal favorite pieces. “That is absolutely stunning.”

  “So’s the price tag,” she told him.

  “Oh my goodness! Look at that little boy,” Mrs. Zettlemyer exclaimed. “His grandmother isn’t watching.”

  They turned to the window in time to see a young tot give a sudden start at a loud clap of thunder and begin to run through the busy parking lot, screaming for his mother. An elderly woman with a cane turned around and set off in desperate pursuit.

  “Oh, my goodness! That truck won’t see him!”

  “Stay here!” Noah ordered. He was out the door and running before Sydney could react to the horror playing out before their eyes. The frightened little boy ran toward them, right in the path of a large U-Haul truck that was slowly backing. There was no way the driver would ever see the small child.

  Horrified, she saw Noah put on an amazing burst of speed. Lightning forked the sky and the first large drops of rain began to fall. He scooped the boy into his arms in plenty of time to prevent a tragedy. The U-Haul driver spotted Noah and came to a stop as the heavens split apart with a mighty deluge of rain.

  The bell over the shop door tinkled. Sydney turned, shaking with relief, and came face-to-face with a man in a black ski mask. He aimed a gun at her face.

  Déjà vu.

  “Nobody move and no one will get hurt.”

  The woman beside Sydney gave a squeak of horror. Her husband pulled her against his chest. Ramona snaked her hand beneath the counter. Sydney knew the clerk had just activated the silent alarm.

  “Give me the tape,” the thief demanded.

  Her mouth went dry with fear. She thought she detected the faint odor of garlic. “What tape?”

  Thunder exploded overhead like a gunshot.

  Sydney jumped. Without warning, the thief turned the gun toward Mr. Gioni and fired. The woman beside Sydney screamed. Her husband threw her to the floor beside a display case.

  Ramona, too, dived beneath the counter. Mr. Gioni staggered back against a shelf of china figurines, blood staining his light gray suit coat from the hole in his shoulder.

  “The next person who moves, dies. Now, give me the tape!” the man demanded, bringing the gun back in line with Sydney.

  “I don’t have any tape!”

  “What did you get at the bank?”

  He’d been following her? “We were talking to the new manager!” Would he kno
w she was lying?

  Before she could blink, he smashed the case at her side with his gun hand. He wore black leather gloves, she realized, and boots. Black pointed boots. The sort she associated with motorcycles and gangs. A snake tattoo wound its way up his arm.

  “Grab some of the expensive stuff,” he ordered.

  Trembling, she reached into the case, cutting the back of her hand on a shard of glass. She ignored the cut, scooping up as many of the items as she could.

  “Let’s go.”

  He grabbed her arm and spun her toward the door. Her blood turned to ice. He planned to kill her. She knew it as surely as if he’d announced the deed.

  He shoved her forward, practically pushing her through the front glass door. And the first thing she saw was Noah, running toward her. A police car suddenly tore into the lot, probably in response to the silent alarm. The thief fired, the shot deafening against her ear. The car screeched to a stop almost directly in front of them.

  He fired at the police twice more, yanking Sydney back inside, shoving her against a display case. Jewelry fell from her hands. Wind and rain howled as lightning and thunder added to the chaos.

  NOAH RETURNED the child to the sobbing grandmother, even as the child’s terrified mother came running over. The horrified man driving the U-Haul thanked him profusely when a crack of thunder sent everyone running for cover.

  As he turned toward the jewelry store, Noah spotted a large black motorcycle. Lots of people drove motorcycles. But Noah began to run all the same as the first of the rain began to fall.

  A police car tore into the shopping center, squealing to a stop in front of the jewelry store. Noah had one second to see Sydney’s terrified expression and the man who held her, before the hooded man opened fire. Sydney and her captor disappeared back inside out of sight as the wind drove a blinding rain wall of water straight at him.

  “Get back!” The cop yelled at him.

  Noah stopped. Charging into the situation unarmed wasn’t going to do Sydney or anyone else any good. He tried to survey the scene analytically. It would take too long for Noah to explain to the cop who he was, and Wickowski would be here any minute.

  The driving rain made it impossible to see inside the store. Noah set aside a wave of guilt for later. He blinked water from his eyes and pictured the people inside the jewelry store. Seven, counting the thief.