FOR THE BABY'S SAKE (20 page)
Life is about choices.
That was what she’d told him. Liz had chosen to live. She’d survived her sister’s death, she’d learned to let go, to forgive herself for not being there. She’d chosen to make a difference in the lives of countless young women, allowing them to fully understand and appreciate that no matter how desperate the situation, they always had a choice.
They could lie or tell the truth. Give or take. Laugh or cry. Love or be empty forever.
Sawyer wiped the tears from his eyes as he drove down the familiar street. Without thinking, he went to the one place that gave him peace. He found his regular spot and parked the car. It had started to rain. It didn’t matter. The cold, wet day couldn’t touch him. He opened the gate of the small cemetery nestled between a church and a school. He took the path to the left. Then he knelt next to his son’s grave and placed a hand on the shiny marker.
When he’d left Baton Rouge, his son had come with him. It had been the only choice.
The rain fell harder, hitting his head, his face, mixing with the tears that ran freely down his cheeks. He couldn’t hear a thing besides the beating of his own heart.
Choices. He didn’t want to give up his last chance to make the right one.
So, he bent his head, all the way to the ground, and he kissed the wet, cold earth that sheltered his child. He didn’t kiss him goodbye. Never that. His son would always have a special place in his heart. But his heart needed to be bigger now. It needed to hold Liz and Catherine.
He’d been a coward. He knew now that he’d rather have one minute, one day, one week with Liz than a lifetime of being alone and afraid.
He knew he couldn’t keep Liz or Catherine safe from all harm. He couldn’t wrap them up in cotton and hide them from the danger that lurked in dark corners. They might get hurt. They might get sick. But he wanted to be there every step of the way, holding them, supporting them, making sure they knew they were loved more than life itself.
* * *
W
HEN
HE
GOT
BACK
to the car, he tried Liz’s apartment again. Still no answer. He checked his machine at work. No messages. Damn it.
He checked the time. Ten minutes after ten. Jamison had said they had a meeting with Fraypish at noon. Not knowing what else to do, Sawyer tried Jamison again.
“Yes,” Jamison answered.
“It’s Sawyer Montgomery. Any word from Liz?”
“No. I’ve tried a couple times. I swear this meeting is doomed. I can’t reach Howard, either.”
Fraypish. Liz had gone to see him and then been attacked. “Jamison, how well do you know Howard Fraypish?”
“We’re like brothers. Why?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that there’s something about him that nags at me.”
“He’s odd, but if you’re thinking that he would harm Liz, that just wouldn’t happen. When Liz got that first death threat from Dantel, Howard was just outraged.”
Sawyer remembered Liz standing outside the hotel, whispering,
He doesn’t know about the letter. Please don’t tell him.
“How did he know about the letter, Jamison?”
“I don’t know. I might have mentioned it, I suppose.”
A slow burn started in Sawyer’s stomach. Mirandez’s goons hadn’t written the second letter. No, it had been somebody who knew about the first letter but hadn’t actually seen it. Somebody who hadn’t realized that Mayfield had been spelled wrong or that the grammar had been rough. Somebody who knew how to spell
conscience
and what it meant. Somebody who knew Mirandez as Dantel. That was what Mary called him. Sometimes Liz, too, especially after she’d been talking with Mary. Jamison had just referred to him as Dantel. That was likely the name he’d used when he’d been chatting with his buddy.
Sawyer turned a sharp left. “Jamison, what’s Fraypish’s address?”
The man hesitated, then rattled it off.
Sawyer hung up, called for backup and started praying. He couldn’t lose her now. Not when he’d just found himself.
When he got there, he parked his car in front of the three-story brownstone. He took the steps two at a time. He had his fist just inches away from the door, ready to knock, when he heard a crash inside the house. He put his ear to the door and pulled his gun out of his holster. He could hear Liz and then another voice. An angry voice. A man’s voice.
She was alive. He stepped away from the door, pulled out his cell phone and called for backup. He debated all of two seconds before he tried the handle. Locked. He heard a car pull up and realized that Jamison had also come.
He held up a finger warning the man to be quiet. “Do you have a key?”
“Yes. I feed his cats when he’s not home.” Jamison pulled out a ring and pointed at a gold key.
Sawyer inserted it quietly and opened the door just inches. He could hear their voices more clearly. Fraypish was yelling.
“You stupid woman. I am not going to let you ruin everything.”
“Howard, you’re never going to get away with it.”
“I’ve been getting away with it for months. Your boss, Jamison, my good buddy, always was a trusting soul. And a fool.”
“Why, Howard? At least tell me why you had to sell the babies.”
“I’m not lucky at cards. At craps, either.”
“How could you?”
Sawyer could hear the disgust in Liz’s voice. Silently, he made his way down the hall.
“Easy. You’d be amazed at how desperate some people are to have a baby. Especially healthy, white infants like your little Catherine. They’ll borrow from friends and family, mortgage their house. Whatever it takes. They’ll drop a hundred thousand without blinking an eye.”
“You make me sick,” Liz said.
“You don’t understand, Liz. I tried to convince you to stay away from that baby. When that didn’t work, I hired a few guys to make my point. But still, you won’t stop. I have to stop you.”
“Howard, please, don’t do this. We’ll talk to Jamison. We’ll get you help.”
“It’s too late. I borrowed money from the wrong people. If I don’t make regular payments, they’ll hurt me. Bad. They’re due a check this week. I don’t have any other babies in the pipeline. I need yours.”
“You’ll never get away with it. Jamison will figure it out.”
“No, he won’t. When you don’t show up for the noon meeting, Jamison and I’ll come looking for you. We’ll find the body, I’ll console Jamison, and your little Catherine will be on the market by dinnertime.”
With that, Sawyer came around the corner. With one sharp downward thrust on Fraypish’s arm, he knocked the gun out of his hand. Then he tackled the man, sending his fist into the guy’s jaw. That was for the bruised jaw. He hit him again. That was for the cracked rib. He had his arm pulled back, ready to swing again, when two sets of hands pulled him off Fraypish.
“That’s enough, Detective. We’ll take it from here.”
Sawyer shook his head to clear it. Two officers stood on each side of him. He took a step back. Liz sat on the bed, her arms wrapped around her middle. Tears ran down her face.
He pulled her into his arms.
“Thank you for getting here in time,” she whispered. “I feel so stupid. I had no idea.”
He held her. “Me, neither, honey. I focused on Mirandez, and I missed Fraypish.”
“It’s not your fault,” she assured him.
Maybe not but he couldn’t even think about what might have happened if he’d arrived five minutes later. He pulled back, just far enough that he could see her eyes. “I love you,” he said, not willing to go another second without her knowing exactly how he felt. “I’ve been a stupid fool. I don’t want to lose you. Tell me I haven’t lost you. Tell me I’m not too late.”
“What about your son?”
He brushed a tear off her cheek. “I loved him before he was born. Once I’d held him, he was the moon and stars and everything that was perfect. And when you love that much and you can’t hold on to it, it hurts. It rips you apart. I didn’t ever want to hurt like that again.”
She kissed him, a whisper of lips against his cheek. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“You were right. Life is about choices. When you love someone, there’s a risk. You can choose to avoid risks, to never take the big leap off the cliff into the water, but then you never know the absolute joy of coming to the surface, the stunning glory of the bright sunshine in your eyes. I don’t want to stand at the top alone.”
“What are you saying?”
“Liz, I’m ready to jump. You have my heart. Take my hand. And together, with Catherine, we’ll build a family. I’ll take care of you, I promise. I love you. Please say you’ll try.”
She kissed him on the lips, and he allowed himself to hope. “You are the kindest, most loving and most...capable man I’ve ever met. I know you’ll take care of me. I want a chance to take care of you.” She reached out and took his hand. “And I want us to take care of our daughter together.”
* * * * *
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Cardwell Ranch Tresspasser
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Chapter One
J
UST
INSIDE
THE
door, she stopped to
take a look around the apartment to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
This place, like all the others she’d lived in, held no special sentimental
value for her. Neither would the next one, she thought. She’d learned a long
time ago not to get too attached to anything.
The knock on the other side of the door startled her. She
froze, careful not to make a sound. The building super, Mr. McNally, again,
wanting the back rent? She should have left earlier.
Another knock. She thought about waiting him out, but her taxi
was already downstairs. She would have to talk her way out of the building. It
wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d found herself in a spot like
this.
She opened the door, ready to do whatever it took to reach her
taxi.
It wasn’t Mr. McNally.
A courier stood holding a manila envelope, a clipboard and a
pen.
“Dee Anna Justice?” he asked.
She looked from him to the envelope in his hand. It looked
legal. Maybe some rich uncle had died and left Dee Anna a fortune.
“Yes?”
He glanced past her into the empty apartment. She’d sold all
the furniture and anything else that wasn’t nailed down. Seeing him judging her
living conditions, she pulled the door closed behind her. He didn’t know her.
How dare he? He had no idea what kind of woman she was, and he certainly wasn’t
going to judge her by the mess she’d left in the apartment.
She cocked a brow at him, waiting.
“I need to see some identification,” he said.
Of course he did. It was all she could do not to smile. Well,
sneer, as she produced a driver’s license in the name of Dee Anna Justice. She’d
known where to get a fake ID since she was fourteen.
He shifted on his feet and finally held the pen out to her and
showed her where to sign.
She wrote
Dee Anna Justice
the way
she’d seen her former roommate do it dozens of times, and held out her hand
impatiently for the envelope, hoping there was money inside. She was due for
some good news. Otherwise the envelope and its contents would end up with the
rest of the trash inside the apartment.
“Thanks a lot,” she said sarcastically, as the courier finally
handed it over. She was anxious to rip into it right there, but she really
needed to get out of here.
It wasn’t until she was in the backseat of the cab, headed for
the train, that she finally tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents.
At first she was a little disappointed. There was only a single one-page letter
inside.
As she read the letter through, though, she began to laugh. No
rich uncle had died. But it was almost as good. Apparently Dee Anna had a cousin
who lived on a ranch in Montana. She ran her finger over the telephone number.
According to the letter, all she had to do was call and she would be on her way
to Montana. With a sob story, she figured she could get her “cousin” to foot
most if not all of her expenses.
She had the cabdriver stop so she could buy a cell phone in the
name of Dee Anna Justice. After she made her purchase she instructed the driver
to take her to the airport, where she bought a first-class ticket. She couldn’t
wait to get to Montana and meet her cousin Dana Cardwell.