The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (141 page)

After dinner, it’s up to the boys to play Santa.  Parents and children exchange gifts, and each of the cousins and spouses place a gift in the middle of the room. Apparently this is a tradition they’ve had for some time now.  It’s a game called Pirate’s Booty, and Evan tries to explain the rules:

Everyone writes their name on a slip of paper three times and places it into a bowl.  The host and hostess take turns picking names out of the bowl.  When your name is chosen, you have a choice.  If you have no gift, you get to choose any one from the pile.  If you have one in your hand, you can either trade it for an unclaimed gift or steal someone else’s gift and leave them yours instead.  If the game is played correctly, everyone winds up with a present, but not necessarily one of their choosing.

“It sounds like Dirty Santa,” I tell him, thinking about a gift exchange tradition at my dorm.

“I don’t know what Dirty Santa is,” Evan tells me, “but I like the sound of it.”

The first opportunity Evan gets, he walks straight over to Cole and demands that Cole give up his booty.  Not surprisingly, it turns into a challenge.  “You can have it, but first you have to pry it from my fingers.  If you can,” Cole dares him.

Not to be undone by his younger but taller cousin, Evan places both hands on the unopened gift and pulls with all his might.  It takes some doing, but he eventually wrenches it from Cole’s grip.

He passes by his brother-in-law Dean and high-fives him as if he’s just won a wrestling contest.  These boys even turn gift-giving into a competitive sport.

One by one, we take turns robbing and stealing from one another.  We laugh when Paige demands a ransom kiss before turning over her loot. 

And so it goes, back and forth until everyone has been plundered and pillaged.  John and Jill, as the hosts, count down from ten, and when they reach zero, everyone opens their gift.

I anxiously tear open my gift, only to discover I’ve received an Obama Chia Pet. I didn’t even know there was such a thing.

Noah gets a pink Snuggie with butterflies and flowers that he immediately puts on and models for us. 

Hugh’s the big winner of the night with a Big Mouth Billy Bass, the wall-mounted singing fish.

This was more fun than I could have ever imagined.  By the end of the night, Evan and I have plans to invite everyone back to our house for a party at the end of Evan’s season, whenever that may be.

Come What May

I
hate waking up alone.  The bed is empty and I’m not sure why.  The team has the day off, and Evan should be here beside me.  A quick cursory investigation helps me locate my man, who is upstairs and working out in his gym. 

I stand at the door to watch and observe.  Evan is on the treadmill wearing nothing but long shorts and running shoes, granting me the undeniable pleasure of seeing his body glistening with sweat.  No matter how often I get to see him like this, there’s no quantifiable way to explain how he still affects me.  God, I love watching his muscles flex and studying the graceful power of his movement.  There’s something deeply primal and carnal about it that hits all my hot buttons.

I could stand here watching him forever.  He’s mine and I get to enjoy him each and every day.  Eventually he catches me ogling him and he smiles at me, flashing his panty-dropping dimples.  “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning, Chief.”  His hair is wet and he smells heavenly.  Who knew a sweaty man could smell so damned good.  “How long have you been up here?”

He looks at the timer on the treadmill.  “About ten minutes.  Gimme another hour or so, then I’ll be down after a quick shower.”

“Do me a favor,” I tell him, licking my lips at the mere thought.  “Come get me
before
you shower.”

He raises just one eyebrow and gives me an unapologetic half smile.  “I can do that.”

Heading downstairs, I grab a yogurt and some fresh fruit while I wait for my laptop to power up.  I have an hour to myself and it’s time to begin unraveling a mystery.

I begin by doing a generic Internet search for birth announcements.  I try entering the keywords
Laci Keilani
and
Kai Keilani
, but it turns up nothing.  It doesn’t help that I have no idea where she was living when the baby was born.  I search Los Angeles, where the Sports Focus headquarters is located.  I search Monmouth County, where her family now resides.  I search San Francisco, where I know she has some extended family.  I search Houston, where Evan was living at the time of their chance meeting.  No luck whatsoever.

I’m not going to find any public records.  Maybe it’s because it’s been over two years and the public announcements have all been archived.  There have been no articles written and no interviews given.  She’s obviously done a stellar job of keeping her child shielded from the public.  But why?

It’s time for a course correction.  My new focus is on tracing Laci’s whereabouts over the last three years.  Perhaps if I can find out when she changed jobs, I can create a timeline that might generate some helpful clues.

I focus my search criteria on
Sports Focus
,
Laci Keilani
, and
resignation
, which returns hundreds of hits.  There are several press releases and numerous interviews with Laci following her resignation.  I even pull up a video of her final on-camera report as one of their field reporters.  No sign of a baby bump.  She states over and over again in each interview that she is leaving for personal reasons.  Her father seems to have suffered a stroke, and she tells the viewers that she needs to return to the East Coast to help care for him.  Her last day on the job was in April, two and a half years ago.

I make note of the exact date and move on. 

How long was she unemployed?  I know she was working for the Celebrity News Network for some time.  It takes me quite a few searches, changing the search parameters and terms, but eventually I find an announcement on the Celeb News Net website announcing the arrival of Laci Keilani to their news team.  According to the article, she began working with them in February.

I take additional notes and scribble my calculation.

Note:  Unemployed April – Feb, 10 months.

So what does all this mean?  She wasn’t showing when the departure video aired in April and she was no longer pregnant when she began working in February.  Kai was born sometime between those dates.  If she spent a few months at home with her new baby, that means the child was born sometime in the fall.

Time for a change of direction:  conception.  When would Kai most likely have been conceived?  Evan said she interviewed him after a playoff game they lost.  He was the back-up quarterback for the Houston Texans at the time.  I search for the NFL playoff brackets three years ago and it’s easy to see in which round the Texans were eliminated.  It was the wildcard round, and they lost to Cincinnati Bengals.

Another quick search gives me the exact date of the game.  It was held on Saturday, January 5
^th
.  I add more notes, along with another calculation.

Note:  Conception, Jan. 5?

You don’t have to have a medical degree to know it takes nine months for a baby to be born.  That would make her due date sometime in September, which fits very nicely into my calculations.  A quick tap on the keys and I’ve found an online pregnancy due date calculator which puts the actual due date at September 28
^th
.  I update my previous notation and move on from there. 

Note:  Conception, Jan. 5?  DOB, September 28?

An interesting ad catches my eye on the webpage.  There’s an at-home DNA Paternity test available at my local pharmacy for less than thirty dollars.  I click on the ad and it takes me directly to the pharmacy’s website.  The item description is fairly detailed and straightforward.  As I read, I begin to get excited.  The kit includes cheek swabs, release forms, and a postage-paid envelope.  It says the results are available in as little as forty-eight hours.  I can have my answer before the new year.

I begin to get a familiar tingle in all the right places.  I turn around and I am rewarded with the glorious vision of a sweaty and shirtless Evan McGuire.  He heads straight to the refrigerator and grabs a cold bottle of water.  I watch, captivated, as he brings the bottle to his lips and empties it, leaving nary a drop.  “Thirsty?” I ask, closing my laptop and giving him my complete and undivided attention.

He tosses the empty bottle in the trash and takes a few determined strides directly toward me with a twinkle in his eye.  “Not anymore.”

“M
arcus, I have something I need you to do,” I tell him.  “I need you to send some staff home – the hostess, a few waitresses, and one bartender.  I’d be surprised if we had more than ten covers all day, and I can’t afford to pay a full staff for another shift.”  The local colleges have been closed for almost a month, and I haven’t seen my seats completely filled in nearly as long.

Marcus looks over the staffing schedule I have spread across my desk.  “Okay, boss.  Who should I send home tonight?  Emmy or Derek?”

“I think Derek can afford to take a day off.  Let’s keep Emmy on for tonight.” 

A few minutes later, Derek comes into my office to grab his wallet and keys.  “Thanks for the time off, Jette.  I have a thousand things to do before I close on the house tomorrow.”

“Oh, my God, Derek – I totally forgot tomorrow is your closing.  Are you moving in right away?”

He plops himself down on my couch.  “I am.  Shea and I are thinking about inviting everyone over for New Year’s Eve.  I know it’s a little last minute, but do you think you guys can make it?”

“Absolutely.  Who else are you inviting?” I ask.

“Everybody.  Anybody.  Open door.  It’s nice to be able to say that and actually feel proud to show off my house.  Can you bring dessert?”

“Dessert, beer, wine – I can bring anything you need.  Text me a list of what you want.”

Just as Derek is about to say something, the door to my office swings open and in walks Auggie, carrying a bag.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I should have knocked.”  Auggie shifts awkwardly, unsure what to do with the bag in his hand.

Derek gets up to leave.  “No worries.  I was just leaving.”  He walks over and shakes Auggie’s hand.  “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,” he tells him as he walks out the door. 

“Tomorrow morning?” I ask.

Auggie nods.  “Yup, we’re doing a final walk-through first thing in the morning.  Then the actual closing will be done at my agency.  That’s one of the perks of working with me – we take care of all the details so you don’t have to.”

“Speaking of details,” I whisper, “did you get it?”

Auggie closes the office door and empties the contents of the bag onto my desk.  Out spills a red-and-white box labeled
IdentiGene DNA Paternity Test Collection Kit
.  We sift through the contents.  There are three swabs, and postage-paid envelopes to return the samples. 

“Auggie, this is absolutely perfect.  Thank you for picking it up for me.  Can you imagine what would happen if I was spotted buying this?”  I slip the swabs into the envelope and hide them in my purse.  I shove the wrappings back into a bag and hand it to Auggie, who agrees to take it home and get rid of it for me.  “One question, though – how do I collect my DNA sample?  It says here in the directions that the most accurate results come from collecting cheek cells.  How the hell am I going to pull that off?”

“Oh, Jepetto, I have complete confidence that you can stick anything you want into that boy’s mouth and you’ll have him begging for more.”

“Oh my God, Auggie.  Seriously?  How do I explain sticking a cotton swab in his mouth?  The minute he sees me coming at him with a stick, he’ll know something’s up.”

“So don’t let him see you,” he suggests.  “Blindfold him first, then feed him.  Turn it into a game.  I have a blindfold you can borrow if you need one.”

“Why would you have a blindfold?”  Auggie opens his mouth to answer, but I stop him, “Wait – never mind.  Forget I ever asked.  Keep your blindfold. I’ll find something.  It’s actually a great idea.”