Baby Love Lite

Home > Romance > Baby Love Lite > Page 11
Baby Love Lite Page 11

by ANDREA SMITH


  “I believe you've something of mine, Mr. Henderson?”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Trey Sinclair; I believe you have my wife inside.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Trey was livid but managed to contain his anger until we were safely out of Daniel’s hovel. I saw Tristan standing outside of what I presumed was Trey’s rental car. He opened the passenger side of my rental car and told me to get in. I watched in the side mirror as Trey went over and spoke to Tristan briefly, then returned to my car getting in on the driver’s side.

  “Give me the keys,” he ordered none too politely. I handed the keys to him trying to make eye contact but having no luck. As we headed down the rural road towards Indianapolis, I finally found the nerve to speak.

  “Trey, I know you're angry with me for coming up here but I did manage to find some potentially useful information. I know for sure now that my mom, Maggie, has Preston.”

  “Tylar,” he spoke softly but his voice was like steel, “do you remember the promises that we made to each other on our wedding day?”

  “Of course I do; but if you’ll---”

  “I promised that I'd protect you and keep you safe,” he interrupted. “You promised you'd be with me during times of joy and times of sorrow. This is a time of sorrow for both of us. Until we find our baby and she's safely back home with us, I don’t want you out of my sight.”

  I looked over at Trey; I saw a tear roll down his cheek and then another. I reached my hand up to his cheek capturing it with my thumb. I couldn’t take it if he fell apart on me right now. I'd not allowed myself to cry for my baby. The thought that this would have anything other than a positive outcome was simply unfathomable to me.

  “Hey” I whispered hoarsely, “Please don’t think that I'd ever do anything to make you feel like this. I just wanted to help. I wanted to get the ball rolling and not wade through all of the bureaucratic red tape to get started in this search for Preston. I didn’t want to waste precious time while the authorities tried to figure out whether we were the perps in all of this.”

  “I know, baby, that sickened me as well, but as an officer of the court I know that they're just doing their job, no matter how cruel it seems to us. When Gina told me where you went late last night, I was scared, Tylar.”

  “Why didn’t you call my cell?”

  “I tried. Your cell is shut off.”

  I rifled through my purse until I located my Cell phone. The battery had died. “I’m sorry; it was nothing I was trying to keep from you. I told Gina to let you know when you came by today. Obviously, you found out sooner.”

  “Why would you put yourself in that kind of danger? You know damn well your mother had plotted to kill you at one point, for Chrissake. So, you don’t care what that does to me?”

  “Trey, I said that I was sorry and I am, but I don’t regret going because I found out some valuable information.”

  I filled Trey in on the main points of my conversation with Daniel; my mother was really my aunt; my birth mother was her sister and died before I was a year old. I told him the car Maggie took was Daniel’s white Ford Explorer, and that he'd provided the license and VIN numbers. I told him she'd received collect calls from a prison in Virginia, she'd made multiple calls to Mississippi, and there was a good chance she'd hoarded the money she got from my trust and was potentially using it now to stay beneath the radar. I let him know that her maiden name was possibly "Renaud."

  “Did you say Renaud?”

  I finally had Trey’s attention. “Yes, why? It’s not a common name. Have you heard it before?”

  “Yes. That’s the last name of the agent for TJ Properties, the L.L.C. in Mississippi that held the deed to your house in Radcliff until you turned twenty-one, remember?”

  “Yes, but I thought you said you didn’t have any luck in finding out the identity of the Trustor when you went to Jackson last year.”

  “I didn’t think that I had. All I had was the post office box number of the L.L.C., the phone number listed on the UCC filing was no longer a working number. I literally hung out at the post office for damn near a full day until someone came to collect the mail from it. It was a man named ‘Renaud.’ I think his first name was Matthew. I explained I represented you in a matter involving your trust. It was then that he informed me that the property in Radcliff was to be deeded to you upon your twenty-first birthday. He didn’t offer much more information, nor was he required to do so. As I explained before, L.L.C.’s are not required to disclose.”

  “Do you remember what he looked like?”

  “He didn’t stand out one way or another. He was probably late forties, why?”

  “He might be my father,” I replied.

  “I thought you said that Daniel said the name Renaud could have been Maggie’s married name?”

  “Yes, but he also said nearly everything that came out of her mouth was a lie. God, I don’t know what to think! She wove such an intricate web of lies and deceit for all of these years; yet there's always a grain of truth hidden somewhere. It’s just picking it out that's so fucking complicated.”

  “I know, sweetie, but I do think the name is significant. Once we're home, I’ll get the investigator working on it, okay?”

  “How’s your mom?” I asked, suddenly ashamed that I'd caused Trey to leave her because he'd been compelled to make sure that I was safe.

  “Physically, she'll be fine. Emotionally, she’s a wreck. She's blaming herself for all of it. My father flew down and he'll fly back with her this morning. Tristan will be staying with us for a couple of days and then will fly to Bristol to stay with Mom after dad’s surgery.”

  “Why's Tristan staying with us?”

  “Because I have to go back to the firm to get my case load divided up so that I can focus on getting Preston back. I don’t want you left alone. Tristan will see to it that you're kept safe when I can’t be with you.”

  I found it comforting to know that I wouldn’t be left in our apartment alone. I hadn’t been back there since the last morning that I'd held and nursed my baby girl. She'd looked so cute with her little ‘Pebbles Flintstone’ hair-style. Tears brimmed in my eyes. I hadn’t allowed myself to cry yet. I was afraid that if I allowed myself to cry then it was an admission that she might never be back with us. I couldn’t bear the thought of that; I couldn’t imagine wanting my life to go on without her in it. My sobs escaped in a flood of tears. Trey pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned it off. He unfastened my seat belt and pulled me over into his arms. I let it all out not caring how loud or hard I cried. He held me in his arms, stroking my hair.

  “I want my baby back!” I wailed it over and over again. “Trey, I need her back with me.”

  “I know baby. I know,” he choked unable to contain his tears. “We'll get her back, I promise you that. The FBI has our phone tapped; they're checking the surveillance videos from the lobby and parking garage. The Georgia State Police have issued Levi’s Call. We'll have our Chubbers back soon, baby, I promise.”

  The tears and the emotion had caused a letdown in my breasts. They were so full of milk they hurt. Damn, why hadn’t I thought to bring my breast pump? I had to keep my milk flowing or I would dry up. I wasn't about to let Maggie be the last one to nurse my baby.

  “Trey, do we have time before our flight back to stop somewhere and buy a breast pump? I need to keep pumping until Preston is back.”

  “Sure sweetie,” he said, kissing my lips gently.

  Our apartment seemed empty and desolate upon our return. Trey had obviously been back there since the incident to get his mom’s stuff packed up. She and Clive had already flown out by the time we got in. They were to call Trey later this evening. Tristan would stay in the bed in the nursery where Susan had slept. I couldn’t bring myself to go into that room. Trey had kept the door shut since we'd arrived back home.

  I immediately went to our suite to take a shower. I felt exhausted and drained. I emerged from t
he bathroom in my warm terrycloth robe, with a towel wrapped around my damp hair. I climbed up on our bed with my breast pump and empty bottles. I was able to fill two of them.

  Trey came in just after I'd finished pumping. “Do you want me to put these in the refrigerator?” he asked.

  “Yes please, but make sure you put one of those stickers I have out there in the kitchen with the day of the week printed on it, okay?"

  “Sure, baby,” he said taking leave.

  I removed the towel from my hair and combed through the damp locks. My eyes drifted to her white bassinet that was still in our room. She'd nearly outgrown it but I still had occasionally put her in it for naps before I'd started back to work at the firm.

  The firm. Shit! I wondered who was going to handle Leah’s responsibilities. Her surgery was scheduled for tomorrow. Something popped up in my mind as I was thinking about the firm. There was something I recalled coming up in the next few weeks in front of a panel of judges. That’s right - it was with a federal judge that had a name like mine only backwards. Judge Preston James Tylar. It was scheduled in a court in Baton Rouge, as I recalled.

  I got off from the bed to find Trey. I'd meant to mention this to him before all of this happened. I walked down the hallway and saw that the light was on in his study.

  I quietly approached the door expecting him to have his Cell phone up to his ear while typing on his laptop but his chair was turned so that his back was to me. He was leaning back staring over at the corner of the room. It was Preston’s empty swing. One of her little rubber squeeze toys was in the tray by the seat. I watched as Trey leaned forward and picked up the little pink rubber clothespin that had a face on it. He squeezed it a couple of times making it squeak the way she did when she chewed on it.

  I saw his shoulders shake with sadness. He lowered his head into his hands, covering his face and sobbed. He was in just as much pain as I was right now. What had made me think that my pain was any worse than his? I hurried over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me with his beautiful sapphire eyes reflecting his pain and his sadness.

  “God, Tylar,” he choked, “Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

  I knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in mine totally confused as to why my husband felt that he needed to ask for my forgiveness.

  “Trey, I don’t understand. What have you done that would make you think you need my forgiveness?”

  “I didn’t listen to you when you were having those dreams. They were premonitions, weren’t they? I fucking insisted you go back to the office even when it meant having to hire someone to come in to our home and take care of the baby! Look what I’ve caused? Because of me, my mother's been injured and my daughter's gone… abducted.”

  “Trey, you were worried about me. You did what you thought was in my best interest. Remember you telling me that you wanted to know that I could survive in a world where peace of mind and security weren’t guaranteed without withdrawing or freaking out? You wanted me to be a strong person, not a paranoid person.”

  “I thought it was concern,” he replied angrily, “maybe it was pure and simple jealousy.”

  “I don’t understand,” I replied.

  “I don’t know, Tylar. Maybe I was just jealous of all of the attention you gave the baby and felt left out. Perhaps my motivation was more self-serving.”

  “I don’t believe that for one minute, Trey. Even Dr. Hunter had concerns. You need to stop beating yourself up with this. We need to be a team more than ever now.”

  He raked his hands through his hair, continuing to look tormented. I couldn’t bear to see him like that. I needed to do something so that we connected again. I raised myself up and crawled into his lap. I cupped my hands around his beautiful face, kissing his tears away. Our lips met and we kissed hungrily. I pulled back my eyes searching his.

  “I need you to make love to me, Trey.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Much later Trey and I lay entwined in each other's arms, clinging to one another in love and support, neither of us able to sleep. It dawned on me that Tristan was staying with us, but I'd not seen him earlier. I disentangled myself from Trey, sitting up quickly.

  "What is it babe?" he asked, sitting up with me.

  “I forgot to see if Tristan needed anything. Did he get settled in the guest room?” I refused to refer to it as the nursery until Preston was home.

  “He’s fine,” Trey answered. “He was watching ESPN in the living room earlier in between ‘sext’ messages.”

  “What?” A faint smile finally graced Trey's lips. “It appears that Tristan is either in love or in lust. I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Some woman named Libby," he replied.

  “Does she live in California?”

  “Actually, she lives here in Atlanta. He met her on the plane."

  “Are you serious?”

  He nodded, smiling. “I think Tristan's on the cusp of his mid-life crisis,” he added.

  “Oh right, he's turning forty soon. I guess I forgot about that. Your mom had said something a week or so ago about throwing him a major party for the occasion.”

  “We’ve had a lot on our minds, baby. I’m sure if we fast forward to the party we'll have Preston in our arms for the occasion.”

  “The sooner, the better,” I remarked tearing up again.

  “Tristan is planning on moving back to Virginia.”

  “Really?” I asked. “What about his winery?”

  “He's selling it to Nigel; he wants to expand the winery at the ‘Belle. He's working the details out with Dad."

  “Go to sleep now, baby.”

  Goodnight, Trey. I love you.”

  Goodnight, Baby. I love you.”

  CHAPTER 13

  By ten o'clock the following morning Trey had updated the Georgia State Police with the information relative to the VIN number, license plate numbers, year, make and model of Daniel’s SUV to update Levi’s Call. Pictures of the vehicle, along with pictures of Preston and Maggie, were run on the local network evening news all over Georgia.

  The FBI had also alerted the same updated information for AMBER alerts in Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Virginia, Indiana and Kentucky. A photo of Maggie and Preston had been dispatched to all of the applicable agencies with an alert that Maggie may be wearing a grey wig in order to appear older than her forty-two years of age.

  Trey, along with his parents had personally put up a $200,000 reward for anyone submitting information that led to the safe return of our baby, no questions asked. The feds weren’t keen on this type of incentive. Trey and I were willing to do whatever it took to get our baby back.

  Trey needed to go into the office, so Tristan was taking me down to the police station where a detective was going to be questioning Sheila Bradley from the resume that Maggie had used to get signed with the agency. What was the connection?

  Tristan and I headed downtown around 10:30 a.m. to meet with the detectives. We were ushered into a room with a two-way, glass window where we could view the questioning. “How are you holding up, Tylar?” he asked gently.

  “I’m fine, Tristan, as long as I keep myself busy and active in the search.”

  “I thought as much,” he replied. "Don't worry; we'll get her back."

  A detective came into the room with us. He introduced himself as Detective Hook. He informed us that the investigators were on their way in with Sheila Bradley.

  Within moments, the door opened and Sheila Bradley was ushered in by two detectives. The female detective started the questioning; identifying each of them, explaining that the interview was being videotaped. She asked Sheila the basic questions: name, date of birth, current residence, employment, marital status and so forth. She then presented Sheila a photo of Maggie. It was the same photo being circulated by the media so chances were Sheila knew why she was being questioned.

  “Do you recognize the woman in this picture, M
rs. Bradley?”

  “Yes, I believe that I do. She came to the hospital a few months back and wanted to see her newborn grandchild. It was past visiting hours. She gave me a sob story.”

  “What kind of story?” the detective probed.

  “She said she'd just arrived in Atlanta an hour or so before coming to the hospital. She said that her daughter had been through a very difficult labor and delivery and that she didn’t want to bother her. She just wanted a glimpse of her grandbaby. She didn’t even know if her daughter had delivered a boy or a girl. She provided me with her daughter’s name and I pulled her file.”

  “What happened then, Mrs. Bradley?”

  “I didn’t see any harm in letting the woman see her granddaughter, so I told her to wait outside the window in the hall. I collected the baby girl and allowed her grandma to see her behind the glass. There was absolutely no risk to the baby, I assure you.”

  “Did you see this woman again?”

  “Yes, as of matter of fact I did. It was that same night. I'd clocked out after my shift and got on the elevator to go down to the ground floor she was already on the elevator, which I found strange because visiting hours were over everywhere in the hospital. She approached me when I got outside to the parking lot as I was getting into my car.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She thanked me for my compassion in allowing her to see her grand-daughter. She said that her daughter unfortunately had gotten herself into a predicament with this man, the father of her grandchild, and that he was abusive to her daughter. She said she was trying to help her daughter leave the man, and that he couldn't know she was in town. She asked me if I'd help her get access to the baby to keep her out of harm's way."

  “Are you saying she wanted you to assist her in taking the baby from the hospital?” Detective Hook spoke up.

  “That’s what I gathered. I told her flat out, no way. She offered me $20,000 and said that it would never come back on me. I told her no way again and told her to leave me alone.”

 

‹ Prev