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Expecting Trouble
Expecting Trouble
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Expecting Trouble

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Cal was about to shut the door and call his director so he could start some damage control, but Helena eased her hand onto the side to stop it from closing.

“I’m sorry about this.” Helena sounded sincere. Or else she’d rehearsed it enough to fake sincerity. Maybe this was the brother-sister version of good cop/bad cop. “I just want the truth so I can make sure Paul’s child inherits what she deserves.”

Jenna didn’t even address that. “Can you stop your brother?”

Cal carefully noted Helena’s reaction. She glanced over her shoulder. First, at her brother who was getting inside their high-end car. Then at the photographer.

“Could I step inside for just a moment?” That sincerity thing was there again.

But Cal wasn’t buying it.

Jenna apparently did. With the butcher knife still clutched in her hand, she stepped back so Helena could enter.

“That reporter out there might have some way to eavesdrop on us,” Helena explained. “She has equipment and cameras with her.”

Maybe. But Cal hadn’t seen anything to suggest long-range eavesdropping equipment. Still, it was an unnecessary risk to keep talking in plain view. Lipreading was a possibility. Plus, anything said here could ultimately put Jenna in more danger and get him in deeper trouble with the director. Not that her paternity claims were exactly newsworthy, but he didn’t want to see his and Jenna’s names and photos splashed in a newspaper.

“Well?” Cal prompted when Helena continued to look around and didn’t say anything else.

“Where do I start?” She seemed to be waiting for an invitation to sit down, but Cal didn’t offer. Helena sighed. “My brother is determined to carry out Paul’s wishes. They’ve been friends since childhood when our parents moved to Monte de Leon to start businesses there. Holden was devastated when Paul was killed.”

Cal shrugged. “Paul isn’t the father of Jenna’s child, so there’s no wish to carry out.”

The last word had hardly left his mouth when he heard a soft whimpering cry sound coming from the nursery.

“Sophie,” Jenna mumbled.

“Go to her,” Cal advised. “I’ll finish up here.”

Jenna hesitated. But not for long—the baby’s cries were getting louder.

“I do need to talk to Jenna,” Helena continued. She opened her purse and rummaged through it. “Do you have a pen? I want to leave my cell number so she can contact me.”

That was actually a good idea. He might be able to get approval to trace Helena’s calls and obtain a record of her past ones.

Cal didn’t have a pen with him, and he looked around before spotting one and a notepad on the kitchen countertop. He got it and glanced into the nursery while he was on that side of the room. Jenna was leaning over the crib changing Sophie’s diaper.

“Someone was following Jenna.” Cal walked back to Helena and handed her the pen and notepad.

She dodged his gaze, took the pen and wrote down her number. “You mean that reporter across the street? She approached us when we drove up and said she was doing an article about Paul. She said she recognized Holden from newspaper pictures.”

Cal shook his head. “Not her. Someone else. A man.” He watched for a reaction.

Helena shrugged and handed him the notepad. “You think I know something about it?”

“Do you? The man’s name is Anthony Salazar.”

Her eyes widened. “Salazar,” she repeated on a rise of breath. “You’ve seen him here in Willow Ridge?”

“I’ve seen him,” Cal confirmed. “Now, mind telling me how you know him?”

Her breath became even more rapid, and she glanced around to make sure it was safe to talk. “Anthony Salazar is evil,” she said in a whisper.

He caught her arm when she turned to leave. “And you know this how?”

She opened her mouth but stopped. “Are you wearing a wire?” she demanded.

“No, and I’m not going to strip down to prove it. But you are going to give me answers.”

Her chin came up. Since he had hold of her arm, he could feel that she was trembling. “You’re trying to make me say something incriminating.”

Yeah. But for now, Cal would settle for the truth. “What’s your connection to Salazar? Does he work for your brother? For you?”

She reached behind her and opened the door. “He worked for Paul.”

He hadn’t expected that answer. “Paul’s dead.”

“But his estate isn’t.”

“What does that mean?” Cal asked cautiously.

“Yesterday was the first anniversary of Paul’s death. Early this morning his attorney delivered e-mails of instruction to people named in his will. I saw the list. Salazar got one.”

Cal paused a moment to give that some thought. “Are you saying Paul reached out from the grave and hired this man to do something to Jenna?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Helena turned and delivered the rest from over her shoulder as she started down the steps. “Neither Holden nor I can call off Salazar. No one can.”

Chapter Five (#ulink_6a71784c-1256-5404-94a2-5f74fd6f55f5)

After Jenna changed Sophie’s diaper, she gently rocked her until her daughter’s whimpers and cries faded. It took just a few seconds before her baby was calm, cooing and smiling at her. It was like magic, and even though it warmed her heart to see her baby so happy, Jenna only wished she could be soothed so easily.

Not much of a chance of that with Holden, his sister and that assassin lurking around. She kept mumbling the poem “The Raven,” and hoped the mechanical exercise would keep her calm.

She heard Cal shut and lock the door, and Jenna wanted to be out there while he was talking to Helena. After all, this was her fight, not Cal’s. But she also didn’t want Holden or Helena anywhere near her baby.

With Helena gone, Jenna went into the kitchen so she could fix Sophie a bottle. Cal glanced at her, but he had his phone already pressed to his ear, so he didn’t say anything to her.

“Hollywood, I need a big favor,” Cal said to the person on the other end of the phone line. “The subjects are Holden Carr, Jenna Laniere and Anthony Salazar.” He paused. “Yes, the Holden and Jenna from Monte de Leon. I need to know how he found out where she’s living. Look for wiretaps first and then dig into her employees. I want to know about any connection with anyone who could have given him this info or photos of Jenna Laniere’s baby.”

Well, that was a start. Hopefully Cal’s contacts would give them an answer soon. It wouldn’t, however, solve her problem with Salazar.

She and Sophie needed protection.

And she needed to clear up the paternity issue with Cal’s director. And amid all that, she had to make arrangements to move. The apartment was no longer safe now that Holden and Helena Carr knew where she was. Packing wouldn’t take long—for the past year, she’d literally been living out of a suitcase, anyway.

With Sophie nestled in the crook of her arm, Jenna warmed the formula, tested a drop on her wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and carried both baby and bottle to the sofa so she could feed her. Sophie wasn’t smiling any longer. She was hungry and was making more of those whimpering demands. Jenna kissed her cheek and started to feed her.

Once it was quiet, it was impossible to shut out what Cal was saying. He was still giving someone instructions about checking on the reporter and where to look for Holden Carr’s leak, and Cal wanted the person to learn more about some e-mails that might have recently been sent out by Paul’s attorney.

She didn’t know anything about e-mails, but a leak in communication could mean someone might have betrayed her. There was just one problem with that. Before the trip to the pediatrician, no one including her own household staff and employees had known where she was.

Now everyone seemed to know.

Cal ended his call and scrubbed his hand over his face. He was obviously frustrated. So was Jenna. But she had to figure out a way to get Cal out of the picture. He didn’t deserve this, and once she was at a safe location, she could get the DNA test for Sophie.

“So, this is Sophie,” he commented, walking closer. “She’s so little for someone who’s caused a lot of big waves.”

“I’m the one who caused the waves,” Jenna corrected.

Cal shrugged it off, but she doubted he was doing that on the inside. “She seems to like that bottle.”

“I couldn’t breast-feed her. I got mastitis—that’s an infection—right after she was born. By the time it’d run its course and I was off the antibiotics, Sophie decided the bottle was for her.” Jenna cringed a little, wondering why she’d shared something so personal with a man who was doing everything he could to get her out of his life.

Cal walked even closer, and Sophie responded to the sound of his footsteps by turning her head in his direction. She tracked him with her wide blue-green eyes and fastened her gaze on him when he sat on the sofa next to them. Even with the bottle in her mouth, she smiled at him.

Much to Jenna’s surprise, Cal smiled back.

It was a great smile, too, and made him look even hotter than he already was. That smile was a lethal weapon in his arsenal.

“She looks like you,” Cal said. “Your face. Your eyes.”

“Paul’s coloring, though,” she added softly. “But when I look at her, I don’t see him. I never have. I loved her unconditionally from the first moment I realized I was pregnant.” Sheez. More personal stuff.

Why couldn’t she stop babbling?

“Helena left you her cell number,” Cal said, dropping the notepad onto the coffee table, switching the subject. “She said you’re to call her.”

Jenna glanced at it and noticed that it had a local area code. “What does she want?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. All I know is I don’t trust her or Holden.” Sophie kicked at him, and he brushed his fingers over her bare toes. He smiled again. But the smile quickly faded. “Helena said that early this morning Salazar received an e-mail from Paul’s estate. It might have something to do with why he’s here.”


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