With the door secured behind us, Miguel resumed our previous conversation. “I mean no disrespect, but why are you here asking questions? Daniel’s child was adopted. We are trying to put it behind us, let him get on with his life.”
“Mr. Alvarez,” Cade asked. “Do you know about the newborn child that went missing earlier this week?”
“I watch the news. Why?”
“The baby that was kidnapped—his name is Finn. Finn is the child Hannah put up for adoption.”
Danny slumped against the wall. He seemed numb, yet affected at the same time. The shock on his face looked real, as did Miguel’s.
“Naw, naw, naw,” Danny repeated. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”
“I’m sorry, Danny,” I said. “It’s true. And now you know why we’re here.”
Danny turned away, clenched his hand, pulverized the drywall behind him. A chalk-like chunk crumbled apart, leaving a baseball-sized hole. Miguel seemed impervious to his son’s actions. Instead of lashing out in anger, he put his hand on Danny’s back, patted it a few times, his voice full of reassurance and concern. “I’m sorry, son.”
“I have to ask you both,” Cade said, “Where were you Monday night between the hours of midnight and six a.m.?”
“Home,” Miguel said. “Sleeping, like everyone else.”
“Can anyone verify this?”
“My wife, though as I stated before, she doesn’t know about the baby. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Cade said. “If the chief wants to send someone to speak to your wife, your employees, or other members of your family, he will. Best you prepare yourself.”
“I’m sure your wife would prefer to hear about it from you instead of the police,” I added.
Danny remained against the wall, unmoving, giving no indication he was tuned in to the conversation.
“We’re innocent,” Miguel stated, “and we’d like to help you any way we can. What do you need to know?”
“Aside from the two of you, who else in your group of family and friends knew Hannah was pregnant?” Cade asked.
“No one.”
“Is there any chance someone in your family found out about the baby, someone here, at your work?”
Miguel weaved his arms together, mulled over the question. “When Danny first came to me, told me about Hannah, we were alone in my pickup, driving on the highway. We discussed it two, maybe three more times, always just the two of us, always in the truck so we didn’t risk anyone overhearing our conversation.”
“Danny, is that true?” Cade asked.
“No one knows,” Danny stammered. “Just us.”
“We didn’t want it to get out to our family,” Miguel said. “Like I told you before, they would not have approved of the adoption.”
“You said you saw Hannah a couple months ago, before she had the baby,” Cade said. “Why did you see her? What did you talk about?”
“Hannah wanted to break up,” Danny said. “I tried to talk her out of it.”
“And did you?”
He shook his head.
“She said she didn’t want to see me again. She said if I kept calling, she’d change her number.”
“Why?”
His eyes bugged out. “I didn’t want to keep the baby. Why you think?”
“Did you see her or talk to her after she ended the relationship?”
“I texted. She didn’t respond. I went to her aunt’s house. Her Aunt Ree’s nice and all, but she never let me inside. She said Hannah couldn’t see me yet. I never stopped tryin’ though.”
What had he meant by that? If she wouldn’t take his calls and wouldn’t see him, what else was there?
“When the baby was born, did anyone tell you?” I asked.
“Yeah. Her aunt sent me a picture of the kid before he left the hospital with his…whatever you call them.”
“Adoptive parents?”
“Yeah. Those guys.”
Miguel looked confused. Apparently he wasn’t aware such a photo existed. Maybe not seeing his grandson was for the best. Then again, maybe seeing the baby motivated Danny to have a change of heart about giving up his son. Anything was possible.
“After seeing Finn, did you regret giving him up?” I asked.
“Naw. I felt better. I love Hannah. I’d do almost anything to be with her again, but I thought we were too young to raise a kid.”
“You could have asked Hannah to abort the baby,” I said. “I assume you didn’t.”
“Naw. My family don’t believe in it.”
“Choosing to give Finn life … it’s a wonderful thing.”
Danny curved his head toward me. “A wonderful thing? My kid is probably dead. Those people were supposed to protect him, take care of him, give him the kind of life I couldn’t. They were supposed to keep him safe. They didn’t. Hannah was right. I should have let her keep our son.”
“It’s not their fault Finn was taken.”
“If we wouldn’t have given him up, none of this would have happened. They looked like nice people. I don’t get it.”
How did he know what they looked like?
“You … saw them?” I asked. “When?”
Danny looked at his father, but it was far too late to fix his blunder.
“Danny, what do you mean they looked like nice people?” Miguel asked.
“I just mean … I only was trying to say …”
“Don’t bother comin’ up with some bullshit story to protect yourself,” Cade said. “You’ve got one chance to be straight with me. If I don’t believe you, if I think you’re lyin’, we’ll take this conversation downtown.”
“I followed them home,” Danny said. “The people who adopted my kid.”
“From where?”
“The hospital.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. Curious, I guess. After Hannah’s aunt sent me the picture, I went to the hospital, waited for them to come out. Figured they’d catch a plane, head out of town. Never thought they’d live so close by.”
“So that’s how Hannah knew where they lived.”
“I wasn’t ever gonna tell her. When she threatened never to speak to me again, I thought if I told her, it would fix things with us. Does she know our kid was nabbed?”
I nodded.
Danny looked at his father. “Hannah needs me, Dad. I gotta bounce.”
“I’m afraid it isn’t possible,” I said.
“I don’t care what you say, mama. I’m going whether you or your sidekick here like it or not.”
“I’m not trying to keep you from her.”
“What then?”
“Hannah’s in the hospital. Her parents are there. They’re not allowing anyone to see her or talk to her.”
It was mostly true, and, given the way I was treated, I could only imagine how Aaron would react to meeting the boy who impregnated his daughter. For Hannah’s sake, and for Daniel’s, he needed to stay away. Far away.
Danny’s nostrils flared. “She’s in the hospital? Why?”
“Last night we went to see her,” I said. “She didn’t know about Finn. She hadn’t been eating, and when her aunt told her the news, she collapsed. The news was more than she could handle.”
“Oh, man. I gotta get out of here. I don’t care what her parents want. I’m seeing her.”
“No, son,” Miguel said. “Give Hannah a day or two. Let her rest. Let her be with her family now.”
“I can’t, Pop. You don’t get it. She can’t be there. Alone. With him.”
“With whom?” I asked. “What haven’t you told your father, Danny?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, refused to look at me. “Nothing. No one. Forget it.”
“Danny, if you know something about Hannah’s father, tell us. We can help her.”
“I said nothing, and I’m not saying no more.”
“Whatever you know, you’re not helping her by remaining quiet.”
>
“You don’t get it,” Danny said. “I’m done. Conversation over.”
CHAPTER 22
I checked in with Renee by phone. She still hadn’t seen Hannah, but she’d gained a momentary audience with Aaron. He agreed to return after he had dinner to talk things out. It didn’t surprise me. Life seemed to revolve around his time frame, around the snap of his manipulative fingers.
Every day, every hour that ticked by, so did all hope of finding Finn. It seemed no matter where we turned, all we had was a bunch of leads that went nowhere. My brain wasn’t pairing things together like it usually did. I was out of sorts, fuzzy, and I knew it. Cade knew it too. I could tell. He was counting on me. Finn was counting on me. They all were.
As strange as it seemed, we’d accepted an invitation to dine at Bonnie’s house for dinner. Earlier she’d packed Jack’s things and explained he’d be staying with her for an undetermined amount of time. It took a good deal of convincing before he warmed to the idea. Not that he ever warmed. He wore down. Plain and simple. Bonnie insisted. She knew how desperately Jack needed family by his side before and after Serena’s funeral. Maybe she was right, or maybe she was scared of what her son would do if he was left to his own devices again.
Part of me sided with Bonnie. For a moment I flashed back, remembering my own past, the crushing feeling of desperation I felt while standing inside my sister’s home days after her death, looking one last time at the photos displayed on the wall, touching mementos she left behind. Even the faintest whiff of her balmy perfume percolating through an otherwise stale air had been toxic, not just to my heart, to my soul, and I knew I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t go there again. To her house. With her memories. I had to get out, leave, and never return.
And I never did.
…
Before dinner, we headed back to Cade’s house to pick up Shelby. The turnoff to his one-lane dirt road was blocked by an idling SUV belonging to the police department. A man stood outside the vehicle, his back braced against the driver’s-side door. When Cade’s truck came into the man’s line of sight, the man rocked his body forward, slapped a stubborn dirt stain off his pants, overlapped one arm over the other. Waited.
Cade pulled to the side. The truck lulled to a stop. Cade didn’t get out. He lowered the window, stared at Chief Rollins like he’d expected him to show up sooner or later. Too bad it wasn’t later.
“Chief.”
“McCoy.”
“Anything new on my cousin’s case?”
“I could ask you the same question,” the chief said. “I hear you two have had a very active day, or should I say days.”
“How’s that?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, McCoy. I know all about where you and little-miss-know-it-all have been. There’ve been sightings of the two of you all around town.”
Cade sighed. “No need to waste your breath on another lecture. I’m not interested.”
“Don’t disrespect me, McCoy. I ordered you off this case, though you don’t seem to give a damn.”
“I’m well aware of what you said.”
“And … what?” the chief questioned. “You think you’re above it all now? Nothing I say means anything to you?”
“I never said—”
“I want you to leave.”
The chief wasn’t looking at Cade anymore. He was looking at me.
“Tonight, tomorrow morning, whatever,” he continued. “As long as you’re gone. You must be proud of yourself, thinkin’ you had me convinced you weren’t takin’ cases no more.”
He paused like he expected me to spout off, overreact. I didn’t. Why would I? What difference would it have made if I had?
“She’s not goin’ anywhere,” Cade said. “If you want someone to blame, blame me. I asked for her help.”
The chief shifted his focus to Cade. “As for you, I’ve made some calls. Don’t think because of the relationship I had with your father, or because you’re hopin’ to assume my position, that you’re at liberty to do whatever you like.”
Hoping to assume … interesting choice of words, spoken like he had the power of veto, like he could wave his gun-slinging wand in the air and Cade’s newly-appointed job would be dissolved, off the table, like it had never been there in the first place. The offer had been extended and accepted, so I was either missing something, or the chief had resorted to throwing a senior-citizen-sized tantrum in the hopes Cade could be swayed. My gut said it was the latter.
As Cade formed a response, Chief Rollins raised himself back onto the seat of his SUV, letting him know he was unwilling to hear it. The door closed. The chief didn’t look back. He didn’t utter another word. He’d said what he came to say. Tantrum over. He mounted a wrist over the top of a worn, leather steering wheel and pressed on the gas. I turned, watching the dust coat the air in a thin, foggy haze.
“I won’t stand in the way of your job,” I said to Cade. “You’re not losing it. Not because of me.”
Cade put the truck back into gear and pulled onto the road again. “There’s nothin’ he can do, Sloane. Nothin’. Trust me.”
“Did you hear what he said? He dangled your upcoming position over your head. Sounded like a threat to me.”
“He’s just blowin’ off steam. The job’s mine. Even if it weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. I’d do what I’m doin’ even if you decided to leave.” He glanced at me, a look of concern in his eyes. “You haven’t thought of leavin’, have you?”
“And miss out on the opportunity of a personal, police escort out of town?” I smiled. “Not a chance.”
There was a certain kind of satisfaction that came with defying a person I didn’t particularly like. A satisfaction begging to be uncorked. Stirring the pot, pushing buttons. It was in my grandfather’s blood. It was in mine.
From a distance, an outline of a female I assumed was Shelby came into view. She was running, sprinting toward Cade’s truck at full speed, the expression on her face a mixture of bewilderment, fury.
Something wasn’t right.
I speculated about the kind of trouble she’d gotten herself into this time.
Cade’s foot hammered down on the brake, the truck skidding to a stop. He stared into the distance, his eyes darting from Shelby to a second woman following close behind. He leaned forward to get a better look, his pupils expanding twice their size when reality reached out and struck him in the face. Wendy. Back for round two. Two inaudible dings rang inside my head.
Tears streamed down Shelby’s face as she saw her safe place, the one person who’d never let her down a day in her life, no matter how much she pressed, how much she pushed him. “Dad!”
Cade exited the truck, his arms outstretched. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was going to tell you.”
“You knew she was here and you didn’t say anything? Why, Dad? How could you?”
“Shelby, please. Wait. I just wanna talk to you.” Wendy rested her hands on her knees, panting, short of breath. “If you would just let me explain.”
“No!” Shelby retorted. “I don’t want you here.”
“I’m your mother, honey. And I always will be whether you choose to stay mad at me or not.”
With her father there to provide support, Shelby found her courage again. She pivoted, broke from her father’s embrace, faced Wendy. “Don’t call yourself that. Don’t call yourself my mother. You’re not my mother. Mother’s don’t abandon their children just because life gets in the way sometimes. I don’t want you, and I … don’t … need … you.”
“You’re angry. You need time to let it all sink in. Maybe in a day or two when you’ve calmed down, I’ll come back, and we can talk. Things will be different this time. You’ll see.”
“You’re not comin’ back,” Cade clarified.
“I told you, Cade, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying.”
“You’re not welcome here. If you stay, you won’t be well received. Not be me. Not by anyone.”
/>
“Well received?” Wendy tossed her head back, snickered. “Who have you been hanging around that has you acting all refined?”
“Time for you to go, Wendy.”
“I came to see my daughter. You can’t stop me. You can’t shut me out like this. No matter what’s happened, we’re family.”
“You’re not my family,” Shelby seethed. “I hate you!”
Wendy’s hand whipped back then sprung forward just like I anticipated it would. I caught her wrist between my fingers, a few inches before it collided with its target—Shelby’s face. I could have stopped there, been the better person, given Wendy her hand back. I’d already stopped her from harming her daughter. But I wasn’t in a forgiving kind of mood. I was in a lesson-teaching kind.
I positioned my body in front of Wendy, shielded her from Shelby so there wasn’t a chance of Shelby being attacked again. I used my pointer finger to press down, apply pressure to the center of the back of Wendy’s hand, bending it forward just enough for her to whimper in pain. I curved my face toward hers, my voice low. “Cade’s a gentleman. He won’t hurt you because you’re a woman. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t because his mother raised him right. My mother raised me not to tolerate people like you. If you ever lay a hand on Shelby again, I’m going to show you just how intolerant I can be. Understand?”
I bent her hand a bit more just in case she didn’t. She looked like she wanted to cry. Point made. I let go.
Wendy flicked her hand in the air like she was trying to breathe life back into it. “You’re a bitch.”
I grinned. “I know.”
It wasn’t the worst thing I’d been called.
Wendy looked at Cade. “She assaulted me! Are you just gonna stand there, let her get away with it?”
Interesting statement considering she’d just tried to strike her child.
“I didn’t see anything,” Shelby sneered. “How ’bout you, Dad?”
Sloane Monroe 06-Hush Now Baby Page 10