Promises to Keep

by Susan Crandall

  There had to be more. Dean started back at square one. “My bet is the father is from New York. According to her work schedule and credit card statements, she hadn’t been anywhere except to see me in Rome at Christmas. I’ll start in New York.”

  “Wait just a minute! You can’t be serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious. The man needs to be found, and punished. I would think you’d want that for Nicholas as much as I do.”

  “What I want for Nicholas is for him to remain safe.” She emphasized the word with a slap of her palm against the table. “If you locate the father, he can claim parental rights. Is that how you’re going to honor your sister’s wishes?”

  “I can gain custody of Nicholas over a convicted murderer.”

  “Okay, back up a step. As of now, the father doesn’t know of the baby’s existence. What if your poking around tips him off before you can discover who he is? What if he comes for the baby? He could disappear and you’d never see him again.”

  “I think you’re overreacting.”

  “Sarah said this man was very clever, that he isn’t what he appears to be. Who knows what that meant? I don’t like the idea of him getting away with this either, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk to Nicholas.”

  “I would think you would want to find the killer—to clear your own name.” He tinged his words with just enough threat to get her attention.

  “I didn’t kill her.” She remained unbaited. “You can have me arrested for taking the baby, but nothing more.”

  He raised a hand in acquiescence. “Do you really think Nicholas will ever be able to live without danger, as long as that man walks around free?”

  “It’s not worth the risk. I obviously didn’t make myself hard to find. If the father had any suspicion that Sarah had given her son to me, he would have been here by now. He doesn’t know. Why screw that up?”

  His resolve settled into stone. “Because Julie deserves justice.”

  Molly looked at him with an equal measure of conviction. “Well, maybe that’s why she gave Nicholas to me and not you. Maybe she knew you’d make that choice.”

  It was obvious a line had been drawn in the sand.

  Well, he didn’t need her permission to cross it.

  Chapter 19

  Molly wasn’t sure if it was the missing car seat or the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to dump two disasters on her in the same moment that kept Dean at her house throughout the night. Either way, it said something for his character. And for that she was thankful. He may be ill-equipped to care for a baby, but he did have the moral fiber to do the right thing.

  They had finally exhausted themselves arguing over the validity of chasing down the baby’s father. Neither one had been anywhere near conceding. Molly realized that she had very little power to control what Dean did. Her only hope was to convince him of the soundness of her argument. Maybe she’d even be able to convince him the baby was better off with her. But right now her own thoughts were growing so muddled, she didn’t trust herself to convince anyone of anything.

  “If you want to use my bed, go ahead,” she said as they both sat yawning and rubbing their eyes at the kitchen table. “I won’t be sleeping until Riley and Mickey show up.”

  Dean stretched his long legs in front of him. “Thanks for the offer.”

  “But?”

  “I wouldn’t feel right.”

  She blinked her bleary eyes at him. “Why not?”

  A half-smile curved his lips and he lifted a shoulder. “Because I’ve been thinking about your bed for a couple of days now. It seems . . . wrong.”

  With her fatigue-fogged mind, it took a moment to process his meaning. “Oh.” She had supposed all of those kinds of thoughts had been forever vanquished with what had been revealed this evening.

  “If you want to go home, I promise not to abscond with the baby in the night. Really. I told you before, once I know the rules, I play by them. Sarah kept half of the players in this game hidden from me.”

  He surprised her by getting up and walking over to her chair. He laid a hand on the top of her head. The look in his eyes was unexpectedly understanding. “I know.” Then he left the kitchen.

  Fifteen minutes later, Molly got up and walked into the living room. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, she saw him lying on his back on the floor with one arm thrown across his eyes. She was cold and tired down to her very marrow. It would be so nice to lie there beside him and absorb his warmth, to pretend that her life wasn’t disintegrating before her eyes.

  Instead, she walked back into the kitchen and turned off the overhead light, leaving only the small light over the sink to cast the corners of the room into shadow. Then she folded her arms on the table and laid her head on them to await either a call from Lily or a cry from Nicholas.

  The fire had nearly gone out. Mickey noticed the light around them changing. She could begin to make out the trunks of individual trees, now black against the graying light of early morning. Riley was asleep. He had been for a couple of hours. But Mickey wouldn’t waste this time. It might be all she had. Once this was over and they were back at school, everything might go back to the way it was. It was a painful thought, but she wouldn’t let herself truly hope for more.

  Her ankle hurt like holy hell, but it was a small price to pay.

  She heard Riley take a deep breath, then felt him move slightly beside her. She hated to see the sun rise. It was as if they’d spent the night in an enchanted forest, and the sun was going to expose it for the ugly swamp it truly was. The sun would shine, Riley would go for help, they would have to explain, she would have to go to the hospital . . . and her mother, oh, God, her mother was going to shit a brick.

  Riley shifted, moving his hand from her side to the back of her head. “You awake?” he whispered.

  Tilting her head so she could look into his face, she said, “Yes.”

  He kissed her lightly on the lips. She had to grab a fistful of his shirt to keep herself from wrapping her arms around his neck and refusing to let him go.

  “You know we’re in deep shit, don’t you?” he asked, taking his other hand and touching her face.

  “Oh, yeah. I know.”

  He looked around. “It’s probably light enough that I can go get help now.”

  Her heart sank. “Probably.”

  “Your ankle must be killing you.”

  It throbbed like a son of a bitch. “Not so bad.”

  “Remember that first summer . . . all I wanted to do was run away from here with you. Away from Clay, away from your mom and dad. Maybe we should have.”

  It was an absurd statement, but she liked the sentiment behind it. “Yeah, and right now you could be working at a car wash and I could be doing the drive-through window at McDonald’s. Of course, those would be our permanent careers.”

  He chuckled.

  She forced herself to sit up.

  He rose to his knees, but didn’t stand. Instead he cupped her face in his hands. “I am so sorry.”

  “For what?” She wanted to take a mental photograph of the look in his eyes right now. That way she would be able to hold it forever in her heart.

  “For being such a shit. For Codi. For you coming out here because of me and breaking your ankle.”

  She wanted to say a broken bone was little enough to pay to bring him back into her life. But she wasn’t sure he was in her life—not permanently. Time would have to tell. Until then, she had to protect her heart.

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said.

  Now he looked confused. “For what?”

  “Actually, I’m sorry in advance . . . for the new one my mom’s going to rip you when this is all over.” Especially after she finds out you’re not a Holt.

  He laughed, then he kissed her again. “I’m not afraid.”

  Mickey couldn’t help herself. She slid her hands behind his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. After all, it could be the last time s
he would ever have the opportunity.

  The telephone ringing right next to Molly’s ear made her bolt straight up in her chair. She snatched it, realizing she must have dozed because it was getting light outside.

  “Lily?”

  “He’s back.” Lily’s tone revealed she was torn between hugging Riley and kicking his ass.

  “What about Mickey?”

  “She found him, but Riley thinks she broke her ankle. They were someplace in the woods near the dam. He waited for first light to leave her and get help.”

  “Thank God.” Her relief was short-lived. “Has anyone called Karen?”

  “I did, before I called you.”

  Molly blew out a breath of relief.

  “You should thank me—she had a full head of steam worked up before I finally told her I had to get off the phone.”

  “Is Mickey at the hospital?”

  “Not yet. The rescue crew for the fire department is going in with a stretcher to bring her out.”

  “Is Karen meeting them at the hospital?” Molly tried to massage some of the stiffness out of her neck.

  Lily’s voice was cold. “Probably, right after she talks to her lawyer.”

  “Jesus. She can’t be serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “I wish I could come out—but Nicholas . . .”

  “Don’t worry about us. When the guys get back we’re going to take a long nap, then have another family talk. I really think whatever happened in the woods last night was good for Riley.”

  Molly bit her lip before she could outwardly speculate just what that might have been. Surely with Mickey’s injury they’d behaved themselves. She closed her eyes and sent a quick prayer that Karen would behave reasonably—not that her prayers had been answered much of late.

  She said to Lily, “Call me later.”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, Lily!”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you know where my car is?”

  “Um, no. Riley didn’t say. I’ll have Clay bring it by. He’s out with the fire department and Riley.”

  “Thanks.”

  When Molly disconnected the call, she looked up and saw Dean standing in the doorway.

  “Everything all right?” he asked in a tone that said he actually cared.

  She nodded. “Mickey found him, but she hurt her ankle. He wouldn’t leave her in the woods in the dark. The fire rescue squad is going after her now.”

  Dean’s gaze flicked to the house next door. “I’m sure Ms. Kimball is in rare form.”

  “As always.” Molly didn’t want to think about Karen Kimball. She didn’t want to think about anything. Her head ached and the baby was going to be up any minute.

  “I guess I’ll go on out to the cottage. We both need some sleep.”

  She looked at him in confusion.

  He gently caressed her hair and said, “I didn’t stay because I thought you were going to sneak off with the baby. I stayed in case there was bad news about your nephew.”

  Molly was pretty sure she was moving her lips, but no sound was coming out.

  “I’ll be back later today. We’ll talk more then.”

  She couldn’t believe it. He actually left—without Nicholas.

  Although a small, desperate part of her wanted to take advantage and pack up and leave, she just couldn’t do it. Anyone who honored her with that much trust might just be persuaded to see the advantages to allowing her to keep Nicholas. Plus, this was a man who made a profession out of divining secrets; he would find her. A life on the run, in constant hiding wouldn’t be any better than a life with a single man who spent all of his time in war zones.

  But Dean might be reasoned with.

  There was hope.

  She stumbled into her bedroom and fell face first onto the bed. She could not think any more without sleep. She had no more than taken a deep breath when she heard Nicholas begin to stir in his crib.

  Mickey closed her eyes and held her breath when the ambulance doors opened and she saw her mother standing at the hospital entrance. When she heard her mother shriek, she knew it was going to be worse than she had imagined.

  “Michaeline, sweetheart! I’ve been frantic. What has that boy done to you?” Her mother got in the way as they tried to unload the gurney.

  Mickey thanked God that she’d been able to convince Riley and Mr. Winters to go on home. It would be horrible to endure this with Riley watching.

  That relief lasted about three more seconds, when Mr. Winters and Riley walked up. Mickey wanted to crawl inside herself with embarrassment. Instead she stood up to her mother. “I just twisted my ankle. I’m fine.”

  Riley was behind her mother now. Mother hadn’t seen him yet.

  “You don’t look fine. You were gone all night.”

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” one of the ambulance technicians said, “we need to get her inside.”

  That’s when her mother turned and saw Riley. She took three jerky steps toward him, stopping right in front of him and jabbing a finger in his face. “You, young man, are in serious trouble!”

  “Mom!” Mickey yelled.

  Her mother spun and glared at her as the gurney went through the automatic doors. “That’s enough out of you! I’ll deal with you later.”

  As Mickey was wheeled into the emergency room, she heard her mother’s voice escalate with anger. Somewhere beneath the yelling, she heard Mr. Winters speaking. Then she heard a “yes, ma’am” from Riley.

  Oh, God, she wanted to jump off this gurney and grab her mother by the hair. She was going to ruin everything.

  Then she got an idea. She started crying—hysterically. “Where’s my mom? My leg hurts! I want my mother!”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the pink-garbed hospital volunteer ladies scurry out the door. In four seconds her mother was hovering over her.

  “There, there, baby.”

  Mickey nearly barfed. Her mom hadn’t called her “baby” since her brother was born.

  She put a comforting hand on Mickey’s brow for a millisecond, before she turned to the nurse and began making ridiculous accusations that Mickey had been abducted by an old boyfriend.

  “Mom! Stop! I went out there myself and twisted my ankle. Riley found me and wouldn’t leave me alone in the dark to get help. Stop sounding like a crazy woman.”

  Karen spun and glared at her. “What did you call me?”

  The ER doctor saved her. “Hello, Michaeline. Anything hurt besides your ankle?” He laid down a clipboard and walked to examine her leg.

  “No. I twisted it on a rock or something. My foot rolled all the way on its side.” The memory made her stomach lurch.

  Her mother stepped close to the doctor. He didn’t look as old as Dr. Boudreau—and Mickey had thought she looked too young to be a doctor. But he held his ground with her mother’s crowding.

  “I think she should be examined for sexual assault,” Mother said quietly, but not so quietly that Mickey couldn’t hear.

  “Mother!”

  The doctor looked at her mother and said, “Nurse Williams will show you to the waiting area and get you something to drink. I’ll be out shortly to discuss my findings.”

  For a moment, her mom looked like she was going to explode. Then she turned around and left the cubicle with the nurse.

  “Okay, Michaeline—”

  “Mickey. I like to be called Mickey.”

  “Mickey, I’m going to cut this sock off. You’ve got a lot of swelling here, the increased pressure might be a little uncomfortable.”

  “It’s been hurting like hell for hours. A little pressure isn’t going to kill me.”

  He grinned. “I like a patient with spunk.”

  Mickey tried to grin back. “But it’s their crazy mothers you could do without?”

  He winked at her. Then he cut the sock and Mickey stiffened with the pain, but kept her lips pressed together.

  “There, done.” He gently examined
her ankle. “Pretty hard to see much with all of this swelling. I’m going to send you up to X ray.” He picked up the clipboard and wrote something. As he did, he asked, as evenly as if he was asking if she liked ice cream, “Are you sexually active?”

  She closed her eyes and tried to keep her face from turning red. “No. And I haven’t been assaulted either. My mother is . . . dramatic.”

  “So there’s no chance that you’re pregnant—we’re taking X rays and need to know.”

  “Absolutely no chance.”

  “All right then. I’m going to have Marcia give you something for pain before transporting you to radiology.”

  “Thank you.” She was curious but too embarrassed to ask if he was going to do any . . . other . . . kind of exam. She’d fight that battle when it came. If that was what it was going to take to get her mom off this assault thing, she guessed she had to do it—for Riley’s sake.

  Marcia arrived with a syringe and gave Mickey a shot in the butt. Mickey closed her eyes and let it go to work. She barely felt the movement when they started to wheel her to radiology.

  By the time the X rays confirmed her ankle was indeed broken and her mother was allowed to come back in, the pain medication reduced her mother’s words to a muffled garble. She wondered briefly if the doctor could give her mother something to calm her down—and shut her up.

  She drifted off to sleep, the pain in her leg reduced to a dull ache and her heart full of fear that all of this was going to drive Riley away again.

  As soon as Dean got back to the cottage, he went through the notebook he had begun the day he discovered his sister was missing. He found the phone number he was looking for and dialed.

  “Detective McMurray, here.”

  “This is Dean Coletta, Julie Coletta’s brother.”

  “Yes, Mr. Coletta, what can I do for you?” There was a slight edge to her voice.

  “I might be able to do something for you. I’m fairly certain I know who killed my sister.”

  “Yes?” Now he had her full attention.

  “I have reason to believe that the father of her child murdered her.”