by Barb Han
Adam rubbed the day-old scruff on his chin. He took a sip of coffee and then shrugged.
“Not much,” he admitted. “Nothing from Libby. Any time I brought the subject up, she maneuvered out of answering. Last night when I couldn’t sleep, I searched their names on the laptop. They seem respectable.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” she countered. She’d learned that lesson the hard way after going out with Chet. He’d shown up fifteen minutes early to their date. Spoke to her uncle with the utmost respect. The guy even brought flowers. He was polite to teachers, which was part of the reason she agreed to go out with him in the first place. Rather than take her straight to the movies, like he’d said, he’d pit stopped at the lake. She spent the next ten minutes fighting him off before delivering a punch that broke his nose and bloodied her new shirt. She managed to climb out the passenger’s side. The car beside them took pity on her and opened the door. They were seniors, two years ahead of her and Chet. He’d sent threatening texts telling her to keep quiet about what had happened. He’d told her no one would believe her anyway.
She’d been too mortified to speak up. Until Amy Dunbar did. Four others came forward after Prudence. Her only regret was that she’d waited.
Adam didn’t speak. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He clenched his back teeth together, making his jaw muscle tick.
She held onto the cup with both hands to stop herself from reaching out to him. It would be a mistake to be his comfort, no matter how much she wanted to be.
By the time she finished her latte, Adam was pulling into the parking lot at the sheriff’s office.
The two-story building was nondescript, brown bricks with tall, thin windows.
Adam drained his coffee before issuing a sharp sigh. He stared at the bottom of the cup.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, opening his door. His words might have been meant to be breezy but they were anything but. Angel’s grandparents would soon follow. They had rights.
The right to take her away?
17
The witness room, as Lawler had called it, wasn’t much more than the size of a broom closet. It had the same long length and short width. If Adam turned sideways and extended his arms, he’d be touching wall-to-window.
The room was dimly lit and there were four metal fold-up chairs a foot away that faced the window. Adam had to pull a chair back a couple of feet to fit. He’d been quiet on the way in. Meeting Libby’s parents for the first time was messing with his head.
The very real possibility they could take their grandchild away before the paternity test came back was a hot poker to his chest. If he had to get a lawyer and fight to stop it from happening, he wouldn’t think twice. The family lawyer would have contacts in the adoption arena.
If Libby hid her baby from her parents, she had to have had a good reason. Doubts crept in at how well he’d actually known his ex-girlfriend, though. She never mentioned anything about coming from money. Based on the society page pictures he’d seen last night, her family had to be doing well.
Tension and frustration caused the spot between his shoulder blades to act up. He rolled his shoulders a couple of times in an attempt to ease the strain.
Prudence scooted her chair closer to his. She reached over to him, and he took her hand, clasping their fingers together. One look at her said she was mulling over the same possibility and didn’t like it any more than he did.
“I don’t care who they are,” she said under her breath. “We won’t let them take her.”
“The law might see it differently,” he said. He didn’t have any plans to turn Angel over to strangers.
“Then, it’s our job to make them understand.”
He squeezed her hand as a couple walked into the adjacent room. They both had on suits. Mrs. Warrington’s came with a skirt. She had on navy blue while Mr. Warrington wore a steel gray. They were put together in a crisp, corporate look. Not a hair was out of place on Mrs. Warrington and her oversized pearls were the right compliment to soften her look.
Libby had been the perfect mix of her parents. Her father’s sun-kissed skin. Her mother’s flawless complexion. Her father’s blond hair and her mother’s oval face. They had the kind of bodies that came from a gym or yoga class, maybe both.
“They look awfully put together for people who just found out their daughter was murdered,” Prudence whispered.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” he admitted.
The only tell was when they turned to face the mirror. There were dark circles under Mr. Warrington’s eyes. Mrs. Warrington dabbed hers with a delicate white handkerchief.
Lawler instructed them to sit down, which they did.
When Mrs. Warrington sat down, she put her face in her hands and it was like someone had let the air out of a balloon. Her husband placed an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
“This is a very difficult time for our family. Please make this brief,” Mr. Warrington said.
“I’ll do everything I can to keep this brief.” Lawler’s back was to the window and his heft blocked some of Adam’s view.
Mrs. Warrington shuddered before sitting up again. When she did, he expected to see mascara smudges on her cheeks. Her makeup was flawless.
Lawler launched into a sincere monologue of how sorry he was for their loss before asking his first question.
“When were you notified of your daughter’s murder?” he asked.
Mrs. Warrington blew her nose in her hanky. She tucked it away after that and took in a breath. Of the two of them, she seemed to be taking the news the hardest. Her husband’s back was stiff and he immediately retracted his arm once she seemed able to go on.
“I can’t remember much of anything,” Mrs. Warrington said. “I’m afraid I won’t be any good to you.”
“We were notified the morning before yesterday.” Mr. Warrington stared at the ceiling where it met the wall in the corner of the room. His chin quivered but he pulled it together, glancing down at his slacks and picking imaginary lint off them.
His wife nodded but didn’t look up.
Despite their chilly exterior, it was easy to see they cared about what happened to their daughter.
Lawler asked a few routine-sounding questions.
“Is it strange to you they’ve been here…” Prudence glanced at the clock on the wall, “fifteen minutes already and have yet to ask about their granddaughter?”
“As a matter of fact, I was just about to make the same observation.” He’d noted their lack of interest.
“I’d like to thank you for coming here so early this morning,” Lawler seemed ready to wrap the interview up.
“What about the child?” Mr. Warrington finally asked. He leaned forward like he was about to divulge a secret. “Is it possible to keep it out of the news?”
“It?” Prudence’s disgust mirrored his own.
“I mean, none of our friends know and I can’t see any reason for this situation to come to light,” Mr. Warrington continued. “No good could come from it.”
Adam wished he could see Lawler’s face right about then.
“Is it safe to say, then, you want nothing to do with your granddaughter?” Lawler asked, his voice a study in calm. It dawned on Adam that a man in Lawler’s line of work probably saw and heard just about everything.
“We aren’t saying that exactly,” Mr. Warrington hemmed.
“This would be a good time for a grandmother to step in and shut her husband up,” Prudence whispered.
“Is it wrong that I’d rather they not want to be involved?” Adam would do whatever was best for Angel. Still, he figured she was far better off without those cold-hearted people. He still couldn’t get over the fact Mr. Warrington had called his own grandchild an “it.”
“No. They make my skin crawl just looking at them,” Prudence admitted. “I don’t want them anywhere near our Angel.”
She squeezed his hand as she studied the coupl
e on the other side of the mirror. Did she realize she’d just called Angel theirs?
Stranger yet, his heart didn’t protest.
He’d never felt this way about another person, not even Libby and he’d been intent on marrying her. He realized now that she’d done him a favor in walking away, but he stopped short of calling Angel a mistake. If the child belonged to him, he planned to give her everything she deserved. If she didn’t, he intended to make certain her father did.
The thought occurred to him Libby might have been on the run from Angel’s birth father. The paternity test would tell. Waiting for the results, not knowing when so many lives hung in the balance was the worst.
After seeing Libby’s parents in action, he now understood why she kept the pregnancy from them. If they didn’t want anything to do with their dead daughter’s child, they weren’t worth her time.
“I can’t promise the news won’t connect the dots or run their own investigation,” Lawler said, his voice flat. He rarely gave his mood away. So, Adam was surprised at how much his tone changed toward the Warringtons.
“I’ve seen enough. Should we head out before these jerks leave?” Adam said to Prudence. They’d been away from the house for an hour and a half already. His mother hadn’t called or texted, so that was a good sign.
“They aren’t worth our time, let alone hers.” Prudence stood up.
Without any fanfare, they exited the building. In the parking lot, Adam noticed a man in a suit who was leaning against the opened door of his truck and smoking a cigarette. From this distance, he looked to be in his late thirties and had a runner’s build. He had sandy-blond hair that had a deep part on one side and was combed over the front. His crisp suit gave him an air of importance. Businessman? Lawyer?
The second made more sense outside of a sheriff’s office. So, why was he trying to cover the fact he watched every step Prudence took?
A chill raced down Prudence’s spine, like the sensation people referred to when they said a cat walked over their grave. She scanned the parking lot, her gaze stopping on a man in a suit three rows over.
“Do you know who that is?” she asked Adam.
“Never seen him before in my life,” Adam confirmed.
“Something about him gives me the creeps,” she admitted. “I can’t put a finger on it, though.”
“He seems a little too interested in you.” Anger laced Adam’s voice. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t follow us.”
Prudence climbed inside the cab of the truck. She touched Adam’s arm after he took the driver’s seat. “Maybe we should see if he does first.”
Adam stared at the rearview for a long moment.
“You’re right. Let’s see if he takes the bait.” He started the engine and put the gearshift in reverse.
As he was backing out of the spot, Prudence noticed the Warringtons leaving the sheriff’s office.
“Hey, check that out.” She motioned toward them.
Adam followed along.
“If I head toward them with my foot on the pedal, do me a favor. Grab the wheel,” he said. There was a hint of truth in that statement. He wouldn’t do anything to put himself in legal jeopardy, but she didn’t blame him for having half a mind to run them over.
“They’ll never know how special she is,” Prudence said. Her own parents had been taken from her. The idea of family willingly walking away from something so small and so precious was something she could scarcely fathom.
“Their loss,” he said.
“I couldn’t agree more.” Was there a way to make the arrangement permanent? Have them relinquish any rights to Angel in case they changed their minds in a couple of years?
Based on how detached they were from anything to do with Angel, she highly doubted it. But better safe than sorry. Everything about that little girl’s future hung in the balance pending the results of the paternity test.
Adam had the resolve and the means to care for Angel in the manner she deserved. What if he wasn’t the father? What if his ex had met someone else? What if she was on the run or in hiding? There were so many unanswered questions in this case.
It had only been three days, the voice in the back of her mind reminded.
She glanced in the side-view mirror. Panic washed over her, squeezing her chest. Why did the suit seem familiar?
“I half expected the Warringtons to go talk to the mystery man,” Prudence said.
“The fact they don’t seem to know each other raises some concern,” he admitted. “I’m more interested in your reaction to him, though. They could be putting on a show to throw off anyone who might be watching.”
“Right.” She kept an eye on the suit.
Adam turned on his blinker. He stopped at the corner. He hesitated. Then, he made a left.
“Let me just make a U-turn here and we’ll see if the suit follows,” Adam said. He used a side parking lot to make the U, then pulled onto the side of the road. He drove down the road a piece before making a few more turns.
Sure enough, the suit followed. He stopped the minute he saw the trap, put the gearshift in reverse, and gunned it.
Tires burned on the concrete road as they struggled for purchase. They caught and the truck whirled backward. Adam wasted no time peeling rubber to catch up to the suit.
“Grab my phone and take a picture of the driver. I’ll get as close as I can,” he stated. All his focus was on the vehicle in front of him.
Prudence fumbled for his phone. Her hand shook from a shot of adrenaline and nerves. She managed to grab it, and steady her hand enough to take a couple of shots. The sun was up, and the truck swerved, so she had no idea if she was getting anything usable.
“I hope I got something,” she said.
Just then the truck slammed on its brakes. Adam reacted but the second cost him. He ran straight into the vehicle in front.
Prudence’s head snapped forward and then back against the headrest. Airbags deployed, blocking her view. It was probably a good thing because the windshield cracked, and slivers of glass showered the bags.
Everything happened so fast at that point.
In the next second, a man was at her door. He got hold of the handle before she had time to hit the lock button. She grabbed onto her armrest and held on for dear life.
At this distance, she could clearly see the suit’s face as he practically sneered at her. He had a scar on his right cheekbone, a streak of white on an overly tanned face. His steel eyes were like a snake’s.
Her body revolted against him, and she knew why.
He’d been there when she’d picked up a frantic hitchhiker, a desperate woman clutching a baby to her chest.
“It’s him,” Prudence whispered as shock and disbelief gave way to white-hot anger. Anger for the life he took. Anger for the child he tried to rip from her arms. Anger for a child who would never know her mother.
As the suit tried to wrestle the baby out of Prudence’s arms, Libby’s face appeared behind him. Her arms raised up high and Prudence saw the sharp boulder moments before it had struck.
His head had snapped forward, and then he’d spun around.
“Go,” Libby had demanded. “Keep her safe. I’ll find you.”
The memories flooded Prudence as she struggled to maintain her grip on the armrest.
18
Just as her fingers were about to give, the suit spun around. The next thing Prudence knew, his back slammed up against her door. She hit the lock button and scrambled to get out from the driver’s side as Adam threw a punch so hard the man’s head snapped to the right.
She ran her hand along the floorboard, searching for a weapon. Bingo. She curled her fingers around a handle and then pulled out a hammer.
As she rounded the back of the truck, she caught sight of blood.
The next few moments happened in slow motion.
Adam threw a punch so hard she heard the suit’s jaw snap. She was certain he’d broken bone. As Adam brought his fist up for another round
, blood squirted from his hand. A lot of blood.
She glanced around for some kind of weapon. A knife?
The glint of metal five feet behind Adam caught her eye. Suit must’ve found it at the same time because he lunged toward Adam, using the truck to deliver enough force to knock Adam back a couple of steps.
As the suit dropped to the ground, Prudence dove toward the knife. She knocked it farther away half a second before the suit got there. Her skin burned where the concrete shredded her forearm as she landed. She managed to keep her head from slamming into the pavement.
But the suit gripped her by the chin, squeezing until she thought her eyeballs might pop out.
“Where’s the kid?” he ground out.
With all her strength, she slammed the hammer into his forehead as Adam literally pulled the man off her. The suit went flying up, hands behind his back as Adam put him in some type of wrestling lock.
The suit’s head snapped back, and he blinked a few times like he was barely holding onto consciousness.
The sweet sound of sirens split the air. Help was coming.
Still, she scrambled toward the knife and kicked it as far as she could. The sound of metal grinding across concrete caused her shoulders to tense.
“You’ll never find her,” Adam said, hauling the suit chest first over the hood of the pickup truck.
“They will.” Adrenaline must have kicked in, giving the lawyer a boost to stay coherent. Blood splattered from his nose and colored his teeth in what looked like red dye.
Who would? The grandparents? Her main concern right now was Adam. Blood dripped from his elbow. There was a lot. Too much.
Lawler’s SUV roared up to the scene. He was out of the driver’s seat and handcuffing the suit faster than Prudence could say, under arrest.
“I’m a lawyer,” the suit claimed. “I’ll sue the shirt off this department if I’m not provided emergency medical care now.”
Lawler quickly assessed the scene.
“You’ll have access to medicine,” he said. Right now, though, I plan to read your rights.” He walked the lawyer over to the back of the SUV and moved him inside as he started with, “You have the right to remain silent…”