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“Thanks, man. I’ll talk to you in a little while.” Jason closed the door on the still-smiling Michael before he could say another word.
“What was he talking about?”
“Just a precaution. You’re up here alone with Henry and—”
“And someone knows how to get into my house.”
Jason studied the contents of his bag instead of replying.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s sit down in the kitchen. You eat, and we’ll catch up on the last thirteen years.”
“Mind if I wash up first?”
Caroline pointed out the bathroom door and walked into her kitchen. When the click of the door reached her ears, she slid onto a bar stool.
What was happening? Why was it happening? And why did Jason Drake have to be the one responsible for her case?
Jason.
Part of her longed to have him sitting beside her. Shoulders touching, feet propped up on the coffee table—the way they’d watched hours of Duke basketball games in their teens.
Part of her wanted to kick him out and tell him to stay away forever.
It wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done. She’d been doing it quite successfully for the past few months. She’d avoided him, and any mention of him.
Why should she hide from him, though? She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she had nothing to apologize for. The way things had ended between them was embarrassing, but surely he couldn’t think she still had feelings for him. What happened was ancient history. And if the sheriff thought he was the best person to close this case, then she had to trust in that. She couldn’t take any risks when it came to her safety or Henry’s.
“Caroline, are you okay?”
Her stomach somersaulted at his voice. Ancient history or current event?
No. She’d learned her lesson. Jason Drake had been a fabulous friend, but he’d made it clear he wanted nothing more. “I’m fine.” She pointed him to a seat at the table. “Let me get you some tea.” History shouldn’t be repeated. For tonight, she’d be thankful she had a friend looking out for her. For the future, she’d remember to look out for herself.
Jason sat, and she didn’t miss the weariness on his face as he bowed his head in thanks.
When he lifted his head, he didn’t hesitate. “I still have a lot of questions,” he admitted.
“What do you want to know?”
Jason swallowed. “Let’s start with Henry.”
Or course he would want to know about Henry. “I’m surprised your mom hasn’t given you all the details.”
He took a drink of his tea. “She’s given me some of them. What she couldn’t explain to me was how you wound up with Stephanie’s baby boy.”
“I’m still trying to figure that out, myself.” She straightened the fringe on her place mat. “Stephanie and I didn’t always agree, but we stayed close after high school. She was going to be my maid of honor.”
The memory of those days after Chad’s death tugged at the edges of Caroline’s mind. They would always be dark, but they no longer held the power to suck her into despair. Now they brought deep sadness and the ever-present question of what might have been.
Jason held her eyes. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to your fiancé, Caroline.”
“Thank you.” What else could she say? When Jason left, she’d moved on, and then the only man who could have possibly blotted out the memory of Jason had been taken too soon by a drunken driver. The idea that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all came to mind. At this point, she wasn’t so sure about that.
And what happened when the one you lost came back?
She shook off the direction of her thoughts. “I finished school, came home and went to work for Dad. Stephanie went to work at the bank and got transferred out to the coast three years ago. We kept in touch, sporadically. A year later, she came home one weekend, and I knew things were different.”
Caroline remembered everything about that night. The garlic butter dripping onto the tablecloth, the exact shade of terra-cotta red that rimmed the pasta bowl, the opera music that filtered into the restaurant. And Stephanie. Fidgety. Eyes too bright. A smile that threatened to break into a goofy grin at any moment. “She’d gotten married. Said it was a civil ceremony and she was sorry she hadn’t told me earlier. A month later, she was pregnant and making plans to move to the Midwest with her Prince Charming.”
Jason pulled a few Doritos from the bag. “Mom told me she came home pregnant and no one ever talks about the baby’s father.”
“That’s an accurate statement,” she said. “My phone rang one day, and she told me she was home to stay. She wasn’t even showing yet, but it wasn’t long before tongues were wagging. She categorically refused to talk about the father. She never even wanted me to tell anyone she’d been married.”
Jason’s face registered confusion. “Why not?”
“I assumed she was so embarrassed by her choice of husband that she’d rather have people think she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock.”
“Do you think she left her husband to protect the baby or herself?” Jason’s voice was cold and hard. “I could respect that.”
No doubt he could. He’d been the baby in that situation once. “She never had one negative thing to say about her husband. I asked her if he’d hurt her, but she was adamant that he hadn’t. Then she begged me not to ask any more questions.”
“I’m guessing you did what she asked.” Jason finished off the last bite of his sandwich and tossed the wrappings in the trash.
Had she done the right thing by agreeing to Stephanie’s request? Doubts clawed at her heart. “What else could I do?”
“Nothing,” Jason said.
She didn’t bother to process why that one word sent a shot of relief through her system.
Caroline took a sip of tea. “We almost never spoke of him. Then one night she asked me if I could come over. When I got there, she was a mess. Told me her husband had been killed. She wouldn’t share any details, but she was devastated.”
“You think she loved him?”
“Yes. At least I’ll be able to tell Henry that much.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know who his father was. Stephanie always referred to him as Lee, and she never changed her last name. His name isn’t on the birth certificate.”
“Caroline, I have to ask. Do you think Stephanie was ever married? It could have been a one-night stand, and she was embarrassed to admit she didn’t know the guy.”
“No, I believe there was a real relationship and she did love him. But the rest of the story—well, I don’t know what to believe anymore. Do you... Do you think he might be the reason someone came after me?”
Jason didn’t answer—which was answer enough. She could put together the logic herself. If someone was targeting her, it was probably connected to the only new element in her life—her son. And since she knew nothing about his father’s family or what trouble they might bring, she had no idea how to keep Henry safe.
* * *
Jason put one hand on hers. She didn’t pull away, and the softness of her skin threatened to distract him. He focused on her face. “This guy, Lee, sounds like a pretty shady character. He could have been married or some type of criminal...”
“I know.”
They sat in silence. He wished he could read her mind. Was she angry with him for asking these questions? “I’m surprised your sister-in-law hasn’t done some investigating.”
“She wanted to, but I begged her to leave it alone. I have a feeling she’s been doing some digging on the side, but my guess is she hasn’t found anything yet. Besides, she and her partner, Max, have been deep into something lately. That’s where she is now—undercover somewhere. When things slow down, I have a feeling she’ll start asking a lot more questions.”
She dropped her head into her hands. “Maybe I should have taken her up on the offer.”
“There’s no point in stressing about that now,” Jason said. “Let’s focus on what we know. How old was Henry when Steph died?” Jason asked.
“Eight months. Car crash. Stephanie died at the scene. Henry got out with barely a scratch. I was listed as her emergency contact. When I went to her place to try to find her insurance information for Henry, I found her will.”
“And that’s when you found out you’d been named Henry’s guardian.”
“Yep.”
“Must have been a shock.”
“You could say that. One minute I was single and unattached. The next I had an eight-month-old to rear.”
“Were there any legal challenges?”
He’d been the pawn in a legal battle for a good part of his childhood. It wouldn’t surprise him if someone caused trouble without really thinking of Henry’s best interests at all.
“No. She had a trust set up for Henry. No one disputed it. There’s no mention of the father, beyond the request that I never allow Henry to know that side of his family or for the family to know him.” She picked up one of the napkins Jason had left on the table and started folding it into small squares. “Once the chaos settled, I started all the legal proceedings to make sure Stephanie’s wishes would be carried out. Her dad has had two heart attacks, and her mom has her hands full taking care of him. They had no interest in contesting the guardianship. The adoption will be final in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
There was a tone in Jason’s voice that Caroline’s nerves reverberated to. “Why?”
“The timing of this makes me very suspicious.”
“You mean someone who knew the father—”
“Or maybe the father himself? We don’t even know if he’s dead. Do we?”
Caroline gulped. “No. I guess we don’t. But I know this. Henry is mine now, and I’m never letting him go.”
Jason heard the mama-bear growl in her voice. He pitied the fool who messed with her on a good day. Raw from the evening’s trauma and the past few months of upheaval, Caroline Harrison looked like a woman who wouldn’t tolerate any more nonsense.
“The adoption will be final in two weeks and he’ll be mine forever.” She raked her hands through her hair. “Assuming we’re still alive.” Caroline placed a bag of Oreos on the table. “Want some milk?”
“Of course I do.”
She grinned at him before returning to the fridge. “I knew it. Like I said, some things never change.”
She poured two glasses of milk and twisted her Oreo in half. He dunked his in his milk before popping it in his mouth whole.
He needed to ask her one more question. And it had nothing to do with the case. “There’s one more thing,” he said.
She looked at him over the edge of an Oreo. “Yes?”
“I need to apologize for what I said that night.”
Her face flushed. “Maybe we should just pretend that night never happened,” she said in a whisper.
Pretend it never happened? He relived it almost every day. “Is that what you’ve done?” He hated the huskiness in his voice and cleared his throat.
She bit her lip. “You made your feelings pretty clear, Jason. I’ve always regretted trying to change your mind. I lost so much that night. If I had a time machine, I’d stop myself from messing things up for both of us.”
He swallowed hard. It was now or never. “I’ve regretted that night for the past thirteen years, as well. But I think for different reasons. You spoke from your heart and told the truth.”
Spit it out, Drake. “But I didn’t. I was afraid. And stupid. I thought I was doing the best thing for both of us, and I’m not convinced that I was wrong about that. But I have regretted hurting you every day since.” He’d regretted it all the more because he’d been in love with her but had been too afraid to tell her, too certain that all the obstacles between them would ruin their chances, and that he’d be better off not risking his heart or her happiness.
His phone rang, and he ignored it. It rang again. “You’d better get that,” she said.
He checked the screen. The sheriff. “Excuse me,” he said and walked outside to fill his boss in on the investigation. When he returned, Caroline was starting the dishwasher.
“I’m going to join Michael and Dalton outside. If you need anything—”
“Oh, no, you will not,” she said. “I’ve already talked to Michael. He and Dalton have things under control. You need to go home. Tell your folks what’s going on. Set their minds at ease.”
Apparently their conversation from earlier was over. He watched her set the alarm, although he had to wonder if it would do any good.
“Good night, Caroline,” he said.
“Good night, Jason.” She closed the door, and the clicking lock pierced his heart. She didn’t want him to stay. Just tonight? Or ever?
FOUR (#u6fc7dc54-6373-5bd8-b88a-1e8a31c54c99)
The blare of his phone jolted him from sleep hours later.
The clock said 7:12. The ringtone was the one he’d programmed in last night for Caroline’s number.
“Caroline?”
A muffled sound came through the speakers. He grabbed his jeans from the floor and tried to pull them on and not disconnect the call.
“Caroline?” This time the sound was clearer, though it was no less confusing. Was she throwing up?
“Jason,” she said, her voice raw and trembling. “Jason, something’s wrong. It’s Henry! He won’t wake up.”
Another round of retching followed as he scrambled to pull on his shoes. He grabbed his service weapon, his badge and his keys. As he unlocked the door to his Explorer, Caroline’s agonized voice burst through the phone.
“Come on, Henry. Please. Wake up!”
A crash followed her words. Then silence.
“Caroline!”
