Murder by Design Trilogy

by Mary Jane Forbes

  The woman tried to calm the baby who was now very upset, screaming her head off, arms and legs shaking as she cried. Her little chin quivering with each scream.

  The man fished out his cell phone and placed a call. He couldn’t stand the screaming kid and hastily stepped out into the hall.

  The woman fumbled with a water bottle trying to unscrew the nipple cap. She put a dash of the sedative mixture she had left into the water, returned the nipple, and shook the bottle. Satisfied, she pushed the nipple into the baby’s mouth. At first the baby screamed louder, then with a whimper she began to suck on the nipple and soon fell fast asleep.

  Exhausted, the woman laid the baby on the couch placing a pillow along her side to keep her from falling to the floor.

  The man returned to the room, frowned looking at the sleeping baby.

  “Did you reach her?” the woman asked the man.

  “Yes. She should be here any minute. You let me do the talking. Always stand in front of the kid. Do not, I repeat, do not let her pick up that baby until I say so. No money—no baby. We can’t be too careful.”

  They both jerked at the sound of the soft knock on the door.

  “Okay, here we go. Remember, do not let her pick up the baby.”

  “For God’s sake open the door will ya? I know what to do. You just be sure you get the dough.”

  The man opened the door and a fashionably dressed blonde woman stepped into the room, looked around, and spotted the baby. “So, you finally did what I hired you to do,” the woman said in a soft, sarcastic voice. “Took you long enough.” She looked around the room again and immediately stepped to the couch, bending over to pick up the sleeping infant.

  The man’s companion quickly interceded. “Oh no you don’t, lady. Money first, then the baby. You can see from where you’re standing that she’s the one you wanted. Why, I don’t know. Screamed the whole time. We should charge you double.” She pulled a small wrinkled picture from her slacks pocket. “See. She’s the one.” A hoity-toity blonde. She sure needs a touch up appointment for that brassy blonde hair.

  The blonde opened her purse retrieving an envelope, handed it to the man. Turning, she again tried to pick up the sleeping infant.

  “You’re a sly one. Back up. Let him count it. Wouldn’t want you to short change us.”

  The man nodded. “Okay. It’s all here. Let her have the kid.”

  The blonde picked up the baby. Took the diaper bag from the woman’s outstretched hand and quickly left.

  It was now close to one a.m.

  Chapter 33

  ───

  UNABLE TO SLEEP, Maxime threw the covers to the end of the bed, twisting to sit on the edge. He glanced at the clock. 5:31 a.m.

  He grasped the remote and switched on the television. Was there any news about the kidnapping of his baby? He suffered through the weather report, Syrian slaughter continued, the stock market took another hit closing yesterday down two percent.

  Switching off the television he padded into the bathroom hoping a steaming hot shower would wash away the tension building in his body. Standing under the showerhead, eyes closed, the water beating down, he realized the tension in his body was not abating. His hope of soothing his nerves had not worked.

  Picking up a fluffy white bath towel, he vigorously rubbed his body—head, shoulders, back—then secured the towel around his waist and returned to the bedroom. A hot mug of coffee was on his dresser. Eric must have heard the shower running, he thought. Thank God for Eric, his trusted friend and valet. He had served Maxime since the day Maxime joined his grandfather’s firm over ten years ago.

  He sipped the coffee, instead of jolting his system awake, the shock of hot liquid relaxed his nerves. Dressing, he looked into the mirror while fastening his cufflinks. He was not going to the Senate today. Maybe later he’d go to his office at the law firm … no, he had to stay home … wait for word, any word of Robyn’s whereabouts … had to be here for Gillianne.

  Throwing his tie on the bed, he bent down to slip on his shoes when he heard a commotion. It came from the living room. With a sharp rap on his bedroom door the door burst open. Bernadette marched up to him and deposited a very upset baby wrapped in a blanket into his arms.

  “Now what have you done?” Maxime said. Carefully removing the blanket from the baby’s head, he looked down in disbelief.

  Robyn?

  She let out a scream as if her soft red curls were on fire. Her face contorted and red from crying, her eyes pinched shut, Maxime hugged the infant to his chest, his eyes filling with tears.

  Eric ran into the room. “Monsieur, I’m so sorry. Madame insisted—

  “It’s okay, Eric. Call my doctor. Tell him it’s an emergency. I need him right away.”

  Maxime began to pace slowly around his bedroom gently patting Robyn’s back, trying to calm her. Bernadette stood leaning against the doorjamb, a triumphant smile on her face. It was obvious to her that Maxime knew what he held in his arms.

  “I give you what you want, Maxime. We are now a family. The Beaumont bloodline continues. You needn’t fret over how you will care for the baby. I’ve instructed Eric to have my things returned here … to our apartment—

  Maxime’s mind was spinning. Little Robyn safe in his arms. A miracle. She stopped crying pushing her curls under his chin, sucking her thumb. He had to call Gillianne immediately. But first he had to deal with the psychotic woman standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

  “How did you get her?” he whispered in a menacing voice.

  She ignored his ill temper. “Oh, well, it took quite a while. But … well … once she was born I figured you, and yes the Count, the poor dear thinking his illustrious family would end with you, Maxime, would move heaven and earth to claim the child. So you see, my dear husband—

  “You are no longer my wife, Bernadette.”

  “Technicality. You’re a lawyer, a Senator. You can fix that with a stroke of a pen. Nobody really knows about the divorce anyway. Friends think I just had a nervous breakdown and needed to get away to regain my health.”

  “How did you get her?” Maxime hissed again in a whisper.

  “Does it really matter? You have your precious bastard child—oh, we’ll tell everyone that I went away to have the baby. It was just too stressful here in Paris, that you were afraid for my wellbeing and—

  “Monsieur, your doctor will be here shortly.”

  Maxime strode out of the bedroom holding his precious baby tight to his chest, passed Bernadette, and told Eric to follow. Now several paces away from his ex-wife, Maxime whispered to Eric to call the police. Tell them to come immediately, that a kidnapper is in the apartment, but no sirens or she might flee.

  Eric’s brows shot up, his eyes wide darting from his employer to Bernadette. He turned and walked quickly from the room.

  Robyn consoled, snuggled deeper into her father’s arms an occasional hiccup from crying jolting her little body. Maxime looked at Bernadette lounging on the dark red velvet couch, one hand on the arm, her other relaxed on the back.

  I have to keep her here, Maxime thought, as he continued to slowly stroll around the living room with Robyn. He paused at the window overlooking the Seine and the street below. A police vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the building. Three officers sprang out disappearing through the entrance.

  Eric was waiting at the door. All the officers knew was what they were told about a call for help. That Senator Beaumont’s ex-wife had arrived with a baby and that the Senator said he was detaining a kidnapper. The officers entered the foyer and Eric nodded for them to proceed into the living room.

  “Senator Beaumont.” The officer nodded to Maxime. “What’s the situation, Monsieur?”

  “This woman, Bernadette Beaumont, my ex-wife, kidnapped this baby in the States, from her mother Gillianne Wilder. This is the kidnapped infant who’s been in the news the last few hours, days.”

  “Are you charging her with kidnapping, Monsieur?” the off
icer asked.

  “Yes. Arrest her. Get her out of here.”

  “We’ll take her to the department, detain her, keep her under arrest while we sort this out. Someone will be in touch with you today. We’ll take your statement as to the charges. Come with us, Madame Beaumont.”

  “What? Surely you aren’t taking his word for this. He’s the one who ordered the kidnapping.”

  Two officers, one on either side, physically lifted her under her arms and half dragged her out of the apartment.

  “He’s the baby’s father,” she screamed over her shoulder. “You can’t do this. Take your hands off me.”

  Eric shut the door muffling her screams. Shaking his head he looked at Maxime.

  “Eric, please call my mother. She’s at the country villa. Tell her I need her help and show the doctor in as soon as he gets here. I want him to check the baby immediately to be sure she hasn’t been harmed.”

  Maxime carried Robyn back to his bedroom, laid her on the bed, and reached for the phone. Looking at the clock, he knew it was approaching midnight in Seattle.

  “Gillianne Wilder.”

  “Gillianne, I have her,” Maxime said in a joyful whisper.

  “Maxime. What did you say?”

  “My darling, Robyn is laying on the bed … in my bedroom … Paris.”

  “But … how? Maxime,” Gilly yelled into the phone. “Did you take her?”

  “No, no, no. The kidnapper brought her to me. She is safe, Gillianne. The kidnapper has been arrested … taken to a Paris jail.”

  “Maxime, … what … I don’t understand … what are you saying? Are you sure she’s okay?” Gilly sounded hysterical trying to grasp his words.

  “She’s lying here like a little red-haired angel. My doctor is coming to the apartment—there’s the bell. He must be here.”

  Maxime heard her sniffle, gulping for air.

  “Gillianne, please don’t cry. Our baby is safe. The doctor is here. I will call you back as soon as he examines her. But my darling, Robyn is safe. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes. Robyn’s alive,” she whispered.

  “I will explain what I know when I call back which isn’t much. The only thing I know for certain is that she brought her to me.”

  “She?”

  “Bernadette … my ex-wife.”

  Chapter 34

  ───

  Seattle

  GILLY SAT IN THE dark on the edge of her bed, the light of the moon cascading over the bed covers. She laid her head in her hands and began sobbing. Nicole and Gabby heard her and raced from their bedrooms to her side. They feared the worse—Robyn was dead. Patting Gilly’s arm, Nicole reached for the tissue box on the bedside table, plucked a tissue and pushed it into Gilly’s hand.

  Feeling the tissue, Gilly raised her head, a smile spreading across her tear-stained face, gasping for air, sobs catching in her throat. Nicole and Gabby exchanged surprised looks.

  “What happened, Gilly?” Nicole asked.

  “Maxime called.”

  “Maxime?” Gabby said her brows furrowed with renewed alarm.

  “He has Robyn. She’s safe.”

  “But … how?” Nicole asked, tears of relief springing to her eyes. She plucked two tissues another for Gilly and one for herself.

  “All he said was that his ex-wife brought Robyn to him. She’s been arrested and he was waiting for a doctor to examine Robyn.”

  “What does that mean?” Gabby asked. “Is she hurt?”

  “I don’t think so. He said he’d call me back as soon as the doctor left.” Gilly reached for her bottle of water next to the tissue box and took several swallows.

  “It’s early morning in Paris,” Nicole said glancing at the clock. “How about Gabby and I wait here with you? Wait for Maxime to call.”

  Gilly nodded in agreement and the three women squirmed under the covers, Gabby and Nicole on their backs staring at the ceiling, Gilly on her side staring at the clock.

  Chapter 35

  ───

  Paris

  THE DOCTOR REMOVED THE syringe from Robyn’s arm filled with her blood. “Look at that he said,” smiling as he swabbed the puncture with gauze. “Not a whimper. “I’ll take this to the lab right away just to make sure she doesn’t have anything toxic in her system. Other than that I think you’d better feed the poor thing. If I’m not mistaken that quivering little lip is asking to be fed. Do you have something to give her? Do you know what she generally has—milk or perhaps a little cereal as well?”

  Relieved that the doctor found nothing, Maxime picked up the little girl, holding her head back a little from his chest, she patted his chin and then began to cry, scrunching her red face into a mass of tears.

  “I’ll call her mother right away and find out. Also, my mother should be here shortly to give me a hand.”

  “Good, I think you’re going to need a little help in the baby department,” the doctor said chuckling as he packed his bag to leave. “Although, you seem to have the situation in hand so far. I’ll call you with the results of the blood test—probably late this afternoon.”

  “Thank you, doctor. If you’ll excuse me I’d like to call her mother.”

  “Go right ahead, Senator. By the way, where did the child get those red curls? It surely wasn’t from you.”

  Maxime laughed. “From her mother.”

  As the doctor left the bedroom, Maxime cradled the crying infant. “There, there, ma chérie, I’ll call your mama right now. Find out what I can feed you.”

  Gilly picked up the phone before the first ring ended. “Maxime, what did the doctor say. She’s crying. I can hear her.”

  “He said she’s hungry, my darling. Quickly, tell me what I can feed our daughter.”

  He laid Robyn on the bed so he could write down how much milk, water, yes, a little cereal. As he was taking notes his mother ran into the room and quickly took charge of the red-faced baby, cooing to her as she carried her out of the bedroom.

  “Maxime, what just happened? She’s not crying. I can’t hear her. Maxime—

  “Everything is fine, sweetheart. My mother just picked her up. Do all you mothers know instantly what to do with a crying baby? Hold on a minute.”

  Eric poked his head into the bedroom and Maxime handed him the scribbled notes, told him to give the notes to the Countess and to go get whatever she says fast.

  “We’re getting things under control, my darling.”

  “Maxime, how did Bernadette get—

  “I don’t know yet. All she told me was that she knew about the baby and thought if she gave her to me that we would be a family, that I’d take her back. I don’t know how she managed to do it. She must have hired someone, but I don’t know who or how.”

  “Maxime, how soon can you bring Robyn to me? Can you fly out—

  “Gillianne, my darling, please listen to me. I beg you to come to Paris. Give me, my mother and father a few days with our baby. Just a few days, that’s all I ask. We can stay at the family’s villa in the country. I grew up there … I want you to learn of my family … like I understood more about you when I visited your family, your wonderful grandfather. Please, Gillianne, will you come here? I promise as soon as you want to return home I will help you. Will you?”

  Maxime waited for her reply. He was afraid the line had been disconnected, but then he heard her answer, a whisper.

  “Yes, I’ll come to Paris. As soon as I know my flight numbers I’ll call you. And, Maxime, guard Robyn with your life.”

  “Oh, I will, my precious. We will meet you at the airport. The moment you land you will see us and you will hold Robyn again.”

  Chapter 36

  ───

  Hansville

  SKIP TURNED DOWN GRAMP’S driveway and parked. He sat, thoughts of Gilly and Robyn running through his head. Agatha gave him a slurp on the cheek. “Okay, Aggie. Let’s go.” With a sigh, Skip opened the car door and Agatha quickly jumped down, ran to the patio with a howl.
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  “Hey, anybody home?”

  “Back here, Skip. In the kitchen,” Gramps called out.

  Skip strode down the hall and the two men locked their blue eyes. Skip walked to the old man, put his arms around him. “Robyn’s safe,” Skip said. Releasing Gramps he turned to the stove and poured the boiling water over the teabags in the two mugs that Gramps had set out.

  “Do you know Gilly’s on her way to Paris to bring Robyn home?” Gramps asked.

  “Yes. Nicole called me. What do you think about the fact that she turns up with her father? Looks to me like he planned the whole thing.”

  “I met him a few weeks ago,” Gramps said taking a sip of tea that Skip had placed in front of him.

  Skip’s head jerked up. “Here?”

  “Yup. Seems he flew to Seattle to see his baby. Gilly brought him over to meet us.”

  “What? She brought him here?”

  “Well, it wasn’t quite like that … she wasn’t anxious to bring him across the sound. Anne and Will were here—had lunch.”

  Skip couldn’t sit. He stood. Walked to the window over the sink, stared out the little window questioning what Gramps said. What the heck is going on? Seems everyone is cozy with this guy and I didn’t even know he’d met them. Face it, Hunter, you’re losing her to the seducer. How long is it going to take for her to learn what a creep he is?

  Skip turned to Gramps. “What did you think of him?”

  “He’s haunted.”

  “Haunted? Come on, Clay.”

  “Skip, all I know is that Gilly went to Paris to bring Robyn home. You can’t jump to conclusions. Wait ‘til she gets back.”

  “Wait! I’m doing a lot of that lately. Did she tell you I was thinking about writing a story about a double blackmail?”

  “Not that I recall. You mean a story about Edward Churchill? If you’re talking double blackmail then the second part of that story would be about Robyn’s father, Maxime Beaumont.”

  “Bingo! My idea really set Gilly off. I didn’t approach it right. Shouldn’t have said anything.”