“Heartbeat looks good,” the tech announced.
Hal kissed her face, and she felt a tear slide from her eye. It didn’t mean they were in the clear. Though she’d managed to avoid the drugs during the last days of her captivity, her body had been flooded with them in the beginning. The FBI had confirmed the drugs that Butler had used on her were benzodiazepines—not the worst, but they had possible side effects. They wouldn’t know the extent of the impact until after the baby was born. Maybe long after.
“You’re measuring twenty weeks.”
Hal flashed Schwartzman a grin. Few couples knew the exact date of conception, but they did. Their Thanksgiving baby.
“Oh,” the tech said, alarm in her tone.
Schwartzman’s stomach tightened in a wave of nausea. She studied the screen, searching for what the tech had seen.
Hal was staring, too. “What? What is it?”
“Sorry,” the tech said quickly. “Hang on . . .”
“We got pregnant on Thanksgiving,” Schwartzman said. “We know that for certain. What are you seeing?”
“The measurements of this little one are perfect,” she said. “The amniotic fluid looks good.”
“But you saw something,” Schwartzman prompted, her panic rising.
The tech nodded, a smile playing on her lips.
“What? The baby’s gender?” Schwartzman asked.
“What is it?” Hal asked again, his fingers squeezing her hand tightly.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Schwartzman snapped when the tech didn’t answer. “Tell us what you’re seeing.”
“This,” the tech said, shifting the wand across her belly. Schwartzman rose to her elbows and studied the small beating pulse on the screen.
Then the tech swung the wand back to the other side. “And this.” The tech was grinning now.
“Oh,” Schwartzman said.
The tech laughed out loud.
Schwartzman felt a smile pull on her own lips. After all they’d been through. She felt a wave of nervousness again. “But the measurements are fine?”
“Perfect,” the tech agreed.
“What?” Hal said, searching her face. “Anna, what is it?”
Schwartzman laughed, dropping her head onto the pillow and wiping her face with one hand. She waved to the tech. “Show him.”
“Show me what?” Hal’s voice had an edge, and the fear made her uncomfortable. They’d had enough of that for two lifetimes.
She took his hand and squeezed. “It’s okay. Really.”
Hal didn’t look convinced.
“See that?” the tech said, pointing out the small white pulse on the screen. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat.” Then she navigated the wand around Schwartzman’s uterus. “And that’s the other one.”
Hal looked dumbstruck. “The other heartbeat?”
The two women nodded, watching him. Schwartzman couldn’t help but smile at his expression.
“There are two babies,” he whispered, his voice full of awe. He looked down at Schwartzman like she was a miracle.
The tech was nodding.
“We’re having twins?” he asked.
“It looks that way,” the tech said.
Hal raised his hands into the air and hollered, “We’re having twins!” His palm struck the ceiling, and he pulled it back, pumping a fist at his hip. “We’re having twins, Anna.” He started dancing around the tiny room, filling the space and leaving the women laughing.
“He’s handling it better than most dads,” the tech said.
“I’ve got to call my mom.” He looked up at her, his eyes bright and glistening. “Is that okay?”
“Of course. Call her.”
She would call her mother, too. Or maybe she would wait to surprise her when Georgia arrived next week. Her mother’s first visit. She tried to imagine her mother’s response to the news but couldn’t. She could imagine how Georgia Schwartzman would have reacted six months ago—her daughter having left the “ideal” husband and fallen in love with a black man, now unwed and pregnant. With twins.
But her mother wasn’t that woman anymore, or that was how it felt. The mother who called her now was talkative and light. She always asked to speak with Hal and was disappointed when he wasn’t home. When she got him on the phone, the two chatted for ten, fifteen, sometimes twenty minutes. When Schwartzman came back on the line, her mother was often laughing. “What a sweetie he is,” she would say. Or, “Oh, that man makes me laugh.”
The tech had stepped off to the side of the exam room, giving her and Hal as much privacy as the space allowed. Schwartzman studied the screen, where an image of the second fetus was frozen, its perfect heart a white mass. Two babies.
“Twins,” Hal repeated on the phone to his mother, grinning at Schwartzman. “Yes. They’re fine. They’re both fine.”
A pause. Hal shaking his head, his mother’s voice audible over the line. Faith was thrilled, of course.
“No. We don’t know the genders.” Hal lowered the phone to ask, “Are we going to find out?”
Schwartzman shrugged.
“We haven’t decided,” he told his mother, his eyes still glued to hers. Still grinning.
When he ended the call, Hal reached out and took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. She pulled him close and kissed his hand in return.
Hal’s phone buzzed. He looked down. “Hailey.” He put the phone in his pocket, laughing. “She never thought I’d be a dad.”
He was going to be a great dad. The best. Anna thought of her own father and wished he could be there to see Hal. But maybe he was. Maybe he was closer than she thought.
Her father would be thrilled to see her become a mother, even more so that there would be no only child. He’d always wished that she’d had a brother or a sister.
A mother. She would be a mother. Not the mother she would have been nine years ago, under the thumb of a violent and cruel husband. She was going to be a mother with a man who was kind and gentle and supportive.
You earned this. You came through hell for this.
“Here are a couple of photographs,” the tech said, handing them two black-and-white printouts. Two little bundles, each cozy in their own amniotic sacs. Two tiny heartbeats, captured on the images like twin stars.
“Fraternal twins,” she said.
“How do you know?” Hal asked.
She explained the two amniotic sacs. “It means it could be two girls, two boys, or one of each.”
“Really?” Hal said.
From the corner of her eye, Schwartzman noticed the tech looking busy, pretending not to pay attention. Like she knew something. Of course she did. She was trained at this. She knew exactly what kind of babies Schwartzman was carrying.
Schwartzman studied Hal’s face. “Do you want to know?” she asked him.
“Do you?”
She nodded, a grin pulling on her lips. “Kind of.”
Hal’s eyes went wide. “Really? Me, too.” He looked back at the screen. “Can we find out?”
“I’ll bet we can.” Schwartzman stared at the tech until she sensed she was being watched and turned to face them again. “I’ll bet someone noticed the gender of the babies,” Schwartzman said.
The tech grinned. “We should double-check. I wouldn’t want to be wrong.” She pulled the ultrasound wand back out of its cradle and added a new layer of gel to the round bump of Schwartzman’s belly. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”
The image settled on one of the babies. The thump-thump-thump of the tiny heart was like a galloping horse. Schwartzman closed her eyes and thanked whatever force had kept them safe. Her babies. Both babies.
Eyes open, Schwartzman watched as the tech homed in on the baby, pointing the ultrasound camera up between the legs.
“Girl?” Schwartzman asked.
“Girl,” the tech confirmed.
Tears streamed down Hal’s face. “A baby girl.” He made a face. “Oh, dear Lord.”
&
nbsp; Schwartzman and the tech both laughed. “She’ll be perfect,” Schwartzman said.
Hal drew a deep breath as the tech shifted the wand and located the second baby. It took no time at all to identify the gender of the second baby. A little penis, clear as day.
“Is that—” Hal asked, pointing to the screen.
“Yes, it is,” Schwartzman said. “That is your baby boy.”
“A boy and a girl. Instant family,” the tech said.
The tech wiped the gel off Schwartzman’s belly and then excused herself, leaving Hal and Schwartzman alone. Hal helped her sit up and cupped her belly, palming it as though it were a basketball, though it was larger than that. No wonder she was so big. Twins. Hal’s twins. She laid her hands on his.
“Instant family,” he said with a chuckle.
They had both come through hell.
And it had been hell.
Hal lifted her face to his, kissed her gently on the mouth.
She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of Hal’s skin on hers, imagining the heartbeats inside her—three of them—only her own palpable.
“Should we go home and figure out where all these babies are going to sleep?” Hal asked, helping her down from the table.
“We might need a bigger house,” she said.
Hal laughed again. “I wonder what Buster’s going to think.”
“Buster will be thrilled.”
“I wonder what Wiley’s going to think,” Hal said.
Hal’s cat still spent most of her days in the master bedroom to keep out of reach of Buster. They looked at each other a moment and laughed. “Wiley may not be as thrilled,” Schwartzman said.
“No, she will not.”
There would be challenges ahead.
“I love you, Anna Schwartzman,” he whispered, his arm wrapped around her, holding her close.
“I love you, Hal Harris.”
He laughed, a big grateful laugh that made her laugh again, too.
Of course there would be challenges.
But not in that moment.
In that moment, everything was perfect.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The first person I would like to thank is you—the reader. Thank you for reading this book, for following Anna’s story. Thank you for every book you’ve ever read. It is the greatest gift you can give someone like me, an author. Without you, there would be no books, and what a terrible world that would be.
Next, my gratitude goes to those who devote their lives to the pursuit of justice. While I always aim for a realistic portrayal of crimes and their management, it is not always possible. Any errors and poetic license are mine entirely.
For research, I am, as always, indebted to the people at the San Francisco Police Department, who have been answering strange questions since book one. Dr. Craig Nelson, associate chief medical examiner, North Carolina Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, has become absolutely invaluable in depicting Schwartzman’s profession and the deaths she investigates as accurately as the story will allow. Thank you, Dr. Nelson.
The team at Jane Rotrosen Agency never ceases to amaze. Thank you to all and especially to Meg Ruley, Rebecca Scherer, Michael Conway, and Danielle Sickles. Thank you also to the fabulous Jessica Tribble; to Sarah Shaw and the incredible team at Thomas & Mercer; to Leslie Lutz for bringing out the best in Schwartzman (and me); to Valerie Kalfrin, Carissa Bluestone, Robin O’Dell, and Stacy Abrams for the thorough edit; and to Kirk DouPonce of DogEared Design for the fabulous cover art.
I am hugely grateful to those who support the process of writing a book and especially to fellow authors Barbara Nickless, Jason Backlund, Randle Bitnar, and Shawnee Spitler, and the eagle-eye proofreaders Whitney, Ronette, Albee, and Dani.
Mom, Nicole, Steve, and Tom, thank you for supporting this crazy dream from the early days. And most of all, my love and gratitude go to the 3/4 that make me whole: Chris, Claire, and Jack. You guys are the moon and the sun and whatever lies beyond. I love you.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review to help other readers discover Dr. Schwartzman. Thank you again for spending this time with Annabelle and Hal, and with me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2018 Mallory Regan, Forty Watt Photography
Danielle Girard is the author of Chasing Darkness, The Rookie Club series, and Exhume, Excise, and Expose, featuring San Francisco medical examiner Dr. Annabelle Schwartzman. Danielle’s books have won the Barry Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, and two of her titles have been optioned for movies. A graduate of Cornell University, Danielle received her MFA at Queens University in Charlotte, North Carolina. She, her husband, and their two children split their time between San Francisco and the Northern Rockies. Visit her at www.daniellegirard.com.
Expire Page 26