Babymaker: A Best Friend's Secret Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “Okay,” he says finally, and stands up. He stubs out his cigarette in an ash tray. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “That’s it?” I ask him.

  “That’s it. What else do you need? You got a security guy that works for the Walkers, a barn owned by the Walkers, and Thomas Seller’s second cousin. Put it all together.”

  “Who did it?” I ask him. “Or did they just take the opportunity to frame me?”

  “Work the case. Don’t do anything stupid.” He nods at me and leaves.

  I sit in that booth, nursing my beer for another hour, just staring at the wall. I can’t believe what I just found out.

  I’ve been suspecting the Seller and the Walker families this whole time, but to hear something like this, confirming exactly what I assumed… it’s insane. I can barely believe it.

  This whole town is corrupt. There’s no way around it. Coldwyn is in the pockets of the richest families around, and the town clearly let them get away with locking me up just because they wanted to. It’s so fucked up I can barely breathe, but I shouldn’t be so surprised. I know this is how the world works.

  But that doesn’t make it right. I’m going to nail them, I just need the proof. When I get it, they’re going down. And I’m not stopping until that happens.

  16

  Avery

  It’s late when my phone buzzing wakes me up. I roll over, a little groggy, but still floating and happy.

  I was having a good dream. In it, I was with Luke in his car. He was touching my body, his hands through my hair, his lips on my throat. I could feel him fucking me, giving me what I’ve been so desperate for. It takes me a second to realize that my dream was reality only a few hours ago, and I’m smiling as I reach over and grab my phone.

  There’s a text from Luke. “I’m outside.”

  I look at it and blink. There’s a second text right after it. “Look out your window. Are you asleep? It’s barely ten o’clock.”

  I sigh, glancing at the time. Looks like I only got an hour of sleep before he woke me up. I text him back.

  “When you have a kid, you sleep when you can. Are you really here?”

  He answers right away. “Look out your window.”

  I sigh and get out of bed. I give myself a quick check in the mirror, grab a sweatshirt, throw it on, and look out the window. Sure enough, Luke’s down there near the tree line. He waves at me and sends me another text.

  “Come talk.”

  I bite my lip. “Okay,” I send back. “Just wait.”

  I sneak out of my room. I check on Max, and sure enough he’s fast asleep. I tiptoe down the stairs, stop in the laundry room to put on some shoes, and head toward the back sliding door.

  Before I can get it open, a noise in the living room grabs my attention. My mom’s sitting there next to a lamp, a drink on her hand, a book open in her lap. She’s watching me.

  “Oh, hey,” I say to her.

  “Where are you going this late?”

  “For a walk,” I say. “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She stares at me. For a second I think she knows what I’m doing, and I’m afraid she’s going to make a big deal out of it. My mom never had as big of a problem with Luke as my father did, but she does whatever daddy says in the end. So if he says I can’t see Luke, mom will go along with it. Not like she’s ever sober long enough to argue.

  “Don’t get hit by a car, dear,” she says, and then looks back down at her book.

  I think that’s the worst possible thing to say, but I just leave. She’s been drinking all day, like usual, and she probably doesn’t realize how inappropriate that comment is.

  I hurry across the dark lawn. I spot Luke just in the tree line and I walk quickly over to him.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. “My mom almost caught me.”

  “Sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t sleep. I met with Slick earlier.”

  I go totally still. “Slick?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “He told me something insane.”

  “I thought he wasn’t helping you.”

  “Changed his mind, I guess.” Luke starts walking and I hurry to catch up. He has the wide-eyed excited look that I’ve seen before, like he’s hopped up on coke or something. He gets like this when he’s excited.

  “Wait up,” I say, hurrying.

  He snatches my hand and pulls me tight against him. He kisses me soft on the lips. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

  “I know,” I say, pulling away. “Why did you get me out of bed, Luke? You could have told me tomorrow.”

  “I know. I just needed you to hear this.” He takes a deep breath. “One of the guys that claims to have witnessed my truck hitting Linda Chavez is your father’s second cousin.”

  I stare at him, surprised. “Really?”

  “Really,” he confirms. “Slick figured it out.”

  “Shit,” I say, although I knew this already. That was one of the first things I figured out, one of the things that convinced Slick to even take the case. “That’s insane.”

  I hate lying and pretending like I didn’t know this already, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel like my lies are all compounding each other. Maybe I should have been honest from the start, but it’s too late for that now.

  “On top of that, Slick found the hard drive with the security footage that proved my innocence hidden in a barn owned by the Walker family.”

  “Wow,” I say, trying to hide my expression. I knew this as well. “Incredible.”

  He gives me a look. “You don’t seem impressed.”

  “No, no, I am. It’s amazing and terrible. I mean, do you think my father had something to do with it?”

  “Of course,” he says. “Who else has the motive and the means to pull this off?”

  I look away from him, down at the leaves. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for years now, which only complicates my position even more.

  I’m fairly sure it was either my father or Mr. Walker, but I don’t know which, maybe it was both. But to imagine that my father had Luke put in jail for five years for a crime he didn’t commit makes my skin crawl. I’ve been living under his roof, letting him help me with Max. All the while he’s this psycho asshole that ruined the life of the man I love. And yet I needed my father’s help, and couldn’t just run away when I started to put the pieces together.

  So I’ve been living with this, torn every day between hatred of the man that did this horrible thing, and still needing him. In some ways, that’s been my punishment, my own prison.

  “It’s hard to picture that,” I say softly.

  “Please, Avery. I know this is difficult. But think back, is there anything you remember that could help me?”

  I stare at the ground, unable to meet his gaze. There is something I heard, the thing that set me down this path from the very beginning. It was a year after Luke was locked up. I was awake late with Max when I heard it, and at the time, I didn’t believe it. Only later did it make any sense.

  “Maybe,” I say softly.

  “Please, tell me. No matter how crazy.”

  I take a deep breath. I’m so tired of lying to him. “It was my brother,” I say. “He was on the phone one night, talking to someone. I think to Franklin.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said, ‘That old fuck won’t say a word. Do you know how much money my father gave him?’ And that’s all I heard.”

  Luke stares at me for a second. “Nothing else?”

  “No, nothing,” I say. “I had Max at the time and he was crying. I couldn’t hear anything else, but it stuck with me. The way he said it…” I trail off and finally meet his gaze.

  He looks pained and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know,” I say, which is only half true. “I didn’t know if it would be important to you.”

  “God damnit, Avery. Your family might have set me up. Probably because they hate me.”

  “I don’t know wh
at to do,” I say honestly.

  “You can’t do anything. Stay where you are, keep living like normal. But be ready.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m going to expose them. I’m sorry, I know they’re your family, but the world has to know.” He grabs my shoulders and hugs me tight. “Thanks for telling me. Go back to bed.” He lets me go and stalks away into the night.

  I stand there, staring after him. Once he’s well out of sight, I finally let myself break down and cry.

  17

  Luke

  It’s late, I’m cold, but I’m not going anywhere.

  I take a breath and exhale. It fogs up the air in front of me as I pull out my phone and check the time. It’s just after one in the morning, and the street is completely deserted. I haven’t seen a single car in at least an hour, and the occupants of the houses around me haven’t so much as stirred.

  I’m sitting in my car, the engine turned off, waiting. I’ve been here for an hour already, just watching, making sure there’s nobody nearby to spot me. Across the street and down a bit is the Walker house.

  It’s big, gaudy, and an absurd mix of architectural styles. It screams “we have so much money and are tacky about it,” which pretty much sums up their family. The driveway snakes up out of view, through some trees and bushes, and the house sits on top of a hill. There’s a gated fence around the whole property, though that won’t be a problem.

  I’m here for one simple reason. I need to take a look at their cars.

  I don’t really know what I’m looking for, though. I suspect the Walkers are involved with this somehow, I just don’t know how yet. I plan on doing this for Avery’s family as well, although she says that there wasn’t anything strange back then, no missing cars, no major repairs in the middle of the night. But I know that if one of these two families killed Lucinda Chavez in that accident, then the offending car would have been broken pretty badly. They would have had to get it fixed, and fast. There should be evidence of those repairs.

  I just have to find it.

  I pull open my car door and slip out. I’m sick of sitting and waiting. Nothing’s changed, it’s time to get this over with. I walk across the street and skirt along the wall, trailing my fingers along the bricks, before stopping in a particularly dark corner. I take one last look around before jumping up, grabbing, the edge, and pulling myself over.

  I drop down into a flowerbed. I sit there a second, waiting to see if anything happens, but the place is silent. I head forward through some bushes and skirt up along the driveway.

  There are a few cars parked up near the house. There are only a couple of lights on inside, deep inside the house, and I’d bet they’re always on. An exterior light casts a dull yellow glow, and I spot another light that should be on, but isn’t.

  Lucky for me. I sneak up toward the cars, coming up to a white sedan first. It’s a newer BMW, I’d guess in the last few years since I don’t recognize it. A quick look around rules it out completely.

  Next up is a Mercedes SUV. Again, everything about it looks totally normal. As I move around the side, I spot another car, this one a black truck, parked further up the driveway and under a little covering.

  I sneak quickly over toward it, my heart thumping. This truck is clearly older. As I get closer, I spot some potential signs of repair: the paint doesn’t match perfectly, the front fender is slightly loose, the glass on the front right headlight looks clearer than the front left.

  Blood rushes to my head. This truck was in a head-on collision at some point that probably wrecked most of the front of it. I crawl down underneath and get a look at the undercarriage. Sure enough, there are welding marks, like someone fixed something in a hurry. But there’s rust forming overtop the welds, which means this didn’t happen recently. Could have been five years ago, though that’s just a total guess.

  I get out my phone and take a picture. I go around, get a shot of the license plate, and finish with a few shots of the body. I try and get some details, but it’s hard with the lack of light.

  Against my better judgment, I turn on the flash and get some more pictures. I need this, and I’m not walking away without my proof. I pull my dark hood up closer around my face and crawl under the truck again, getting those welding marks as best I can.

  As I slide back out, I hear something and freeze. I listen closely and I hear it again, this time even closer.

  “Who’s there?”

  The voice sends a jolt down my spine. I’m not sure which brother it is, but I don’t care to find out. He’s close by, probably came out the back door.

  I don’t hesitate. I turn and sprint away, back down toward the wall.

  “Hey!” Whoever it is chases after me.

  I run as fast as I can, heart hammering. I can’t let him see my face. I need to get to the wall, jump it, and keep going. I can come back for the car later, I just need to get away.

  I slip my phone back into my pocket as I keep going, knees pumping, chest burning. I’m running faster than I’ve ever run in my whole fucking life, and the wall is coming up, faster and faster.

  “Stop, asshole!”

  I dive at the wall, jumping and hitting it hard. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, but I grab the lip and pull myself up. I get my legs up just before the Walker brother comes up after me, jumping and trying to grab at my ankle.

  I slip down to the other side and land hard. I stumble forward, ankle twist sending sharp pains up my shins, but I don’t stop. I can hear the Walker brother coming after me, trying to get over. I start sprinting again, running hard. I make a sharp left into a little wooded area and keep going until I can’t feel my legs anymore.

  Slowly I come to a stop, breathing hard and listening. I don’t hear anyone coming after me. I lean up against a tree, pulling air into my lungs desperately.

  That was fucking close. I knew I shouldn’t have used my flash. I pull out my phone and look at the pictures. I risked a lot to get these, and they’re surprisingly good.

  I can’t believe my luck. I have a deep suspicion that this truck is the real murder weapon. I’m pretty sure whoever killed Lucinda in that accident was driving this truck, and now I bet the Walkers are too afraid to get rid of it in case someone figures it out. They probably want to control that truck, keep it out of the hands of anyone outside the family.

  Well, that was a fucking mistake, because now I have proof that it was them. Not enough obviously, but I’ll take it to Slick and see what he says. I lean back up against the tree, adrenaline coursing through me, and I laugh. I can’t help myself. I just narrowly escaped getting caught, and now I have an important piece of the puzzle.

  I feel so alive, it’s almost hard to imagine that I was so dead for so many years.

  18

  Avery

  “You did what?”

  I stare at Luke, my jaw hanging open.

  “I found it, Avery. I found the vehicle. It was the Walkers.”

  I shake my head, trying to understand what he’s telling me. We’re standing in his living room, and he has that look in his eyes again. Max is back home with my mom, and she thinks I’m out at Target again. I’m going to have to actually get some Target bags this time.

  “You broke into their house?”

  “No, no, of course not,” he says. “I hopped their wall and looked at their cars.”

  “Okay... so just trespassing. Got it.”

  “You’re missing the point.”

  I sigh, exasperated. “I think you’re missing the point. You went to jail once, Luke. You probably should actively try not to go back.”

  He scowls at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You think the Walkers won’t press charges?”

  “They didn’t catch me.”

  “They could have cameras.”

  He hesitates. Clearly, he hadn’t thought about that. “Still, it doesn’t matter. I know it was them.”

  “Okay,” I say softly. “Maybe you’re righ
t. But so what? You can’t do anything with that.”

  “I can show Slick.”

  “Sure,” I concede. “But they saw you looking at the truck, right?”

  “Yeah,” he says, frowning.

  “So they know someone’s snooping around. They’re going to be extra careful now.”

  “Shit,” he says, leaning up against the kitchen counter. “You think I tipped them off.”

  “You definitely did. We have to assume they know you’re coming.”

  He bites his lip and I sigh. “They’re not untouchable, Avery,” he says. “If they killed that woman and framed me for it, they have to pay.”

  “I agree,” I say. “But which of them did it?”

  He hesitates. “I don’t know.”

  “We need to find that out. And then we need more evidence than your pictures.”

  “You’re right,” he says, walking toward me. “How did you get so good at all this?”

  He comes right up in front of me, and my heart starts racing. “I need to tell you something,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop myself.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Okay,” he says. “What is it?”

  “I hate hiding things from you,” I say softly.

  “Avery,” he says firmly. “Just tell me.”

  I can’t help myself. I’ve been keeping this from him since he came home and longer than that. I’ve been so afraid of how he’ll react, but now I have to tell him the truth. He’s getting so deep into this, and I know I can help, if only he understands how much I’ve done already.

  I’m afraid he’ll walk away from this, whatever it is that’s between us. But this isn’t worth anything if it’s based on anything short of the entire truth.

  “I was the one that hired Slick,” I say softly. He doesn’t react right away, so I keep going. “I never gave you up, Luke. From the day you were put in prison until the day you were released, I’ve been investigating your case obsessively. Every single free second, I’ve invested it into your case. Every extra penny, everything went into it. I had to hide it from my parents, because they forbade me from speaking to you, threatened to kick me and Max out, but I never stopped. Eventually I saved enough to hire Slick, and from there, well… we got you out. I’m so sorry.” I’m crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks. I hate myself for this, for not telling him up front.