Texas Baby Conspiracy

by Barb Han

  At least that comment brought out a smile.

  “I know how hard you work and that you’re going to need support to bring up this child. You’re responsible for your mother and your family business employs family who depend on their paychecks and enjoy working together.”

  She nodded and he could almost see the wheels turning in her mind.

  “You like to sleep late,” he pointed out. “But only on Sundays. And you like to stay in bed as long as possible. I caught you pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t have to get up before you were ready.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Your breathing. There’s a certain sound you make when you’re sleeping.”

  “Snoring?” Her cheeks flushed again.

  “No. More like a steady, even rhythm. Like a really good George Strait song.”

  Now, she smiled, and it chipped away at his resolve.

  “And you know me too.”

  “That’s right.” Her eyes sparkled. “I sure do. I know how much you like crispy beef tacos and that you love family above all else. Your favorite color is blue like the night sky. And that’s your favorite thing to look at despite the fact you start yawning after eight o’clock on your nights off. You say you don’t care for children, but I’ve seen a little spark in your eye when you pass by a curly-haired angel.”

  “No one said I didn’t care for children. I said I didn’t much like ‘other’ people’s children,” he defended, quirking a smile.

  She laughed.

  “You wake up so early on your days off it’s crazy. And you like to jump right out of bed and get in a workout.”

  “That’s the hazard that comes with growing up on a ranch.”

  “You’re all tough on the outside but you care deeply. About everyone who gets close to you. So much so, that you sometimes have blinders on when you’re around them.”

  She had him there. Case in point, Liz.

  “And I know you’re thinking Liz right now but I’m also talking about me. You think I’m a better person than I am because I have a bad feeling that I did something wrong and I can’t pinpoint why.”

  “Something you needed to protect me from?” he asked.

  “There’s where I draw a frustrating blank.” She locked gazes with him. “Whatever it was, I have a feeling I was covering for myself. What if I know Bus Stop or the Judge personally? Maybe I should just make myself visible. They wanted information from me. Or wanted me to talk. I’m not sure why but I get the feeling I was doing something wrong.”

  “With your father?”

  “No idea if Dad was involved. Something tells me the answer is yes.”

  “That puts us right back at the beginning.” He still didn’t believe she would knowingly and willingly do anything illegal. He’d heard about businesses having trouble getting products in and out of Mexico over the past few years. Corruption was rampant with government officials there. “I just had an idea. Do you think it’s possible the cash withdrawal was for a bribe to get goods out of the country and into the US?”

  “Warning bells are sounding in my head when you talk about it.”

  “I have another thought if you want to hear it.”

  “Yes. I do.” She quirked a brow.

  “Extortion. Your father might have been paying someone off to move product out of Mexico.”

  “Would it be illegal for him to pay a person in another country if his supply chain broke down? Grease the wheels so to speak or pay for protection?”

  “Not technically. Unless the men were extorting money from your father. That’s another ballgame.” The thought also occurred to him that she was trying to protect him. Would having her name dragged through the mud put Blake’s job at risk? Dealing in the gray area as a business could lead to bad publicity. Doing something illegal could cost him his badge.

  A picture was emerging that concerned him.

  “What if the payments stopped?” he asked. “What if that’s the reason they’re after you.”

  “One of the guys mentioned something about getting me to talk. He was disturbed they were going to have to break or cut off my finger.” She skimmed the bank account and he noticed similar transactions, all cash and none in the exact same amount. “These withdrawals happen every month, like clockwork. Different day and amount, but in the same range.”

  “If they were on the same day or the exact same amount, it would raise a red flag,” he pointed out. “Varying the day and amounts makes it easier to slip under the radar. They’re all less than ten thousand dollars too. So, no red flags to the feds. Can you click on one of them and verify it’s your father?”

  Just in case one his employees was taking the money.

  She clicked on a transaction from last year and her father’s signature was on the withdrawal slip.

  “How about this one?” There shouldn’t be any withdrawals after her father passed away.

  Alyssa’s face went bleached-sheet white. “How can that be?”

  The name on the slip was Alyssa Hazel.

  * * *

  “IT’S ME.”

  There was a long silence that followed Alyssa’s words. Shock robbed her voice and her mind swirled. How could she be the one to pick up where her dad left off? And yet, now that she’d had a few minutes to let this news digest, she couldn’t deny how familiar it felt. She glanced at the date shortly after her father’s illness put him in the hospital.

  Her signature.

  She moved to the month before.

  Her father’s signature.

  The month before that yielded the same result, her father. Her fingers guided the arrow to each date after her father’s hospitalization. Her signature.

  “You walked out shortly after your father’s hospitalization. About the time you took over.” Blake’s voice was so low she almost couldn’t hear him. “You said you were protecting me.”

  More of those puzzle pieces clicked together as he spoke. She expected him to look at her with disdain and found compassion instead.

  “I don’t know why I agreed to take over for him. It’s obvious that’s what I did, though.”

  “Save the family business. Take care of your mother. Keep an income coming in. Those are just the reasons off the top of my head,” he said.

  “Clearly, I was doing something illegal with the money. If anyone found out, I’d be easily connected to you as your wife. With your job in law enforcement, that would be the end of your career.”

  He nodded. “You could have been trying to save my life as well.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “We don’t know the reason for the payments. Could be to move legal products over the border,” he said.

  “But then what information could they possibly want from me?”

  “That’s the next step. Finding the answer.”

  A cramp nearly doubled her over. She breathed through it.

  “What do you say to closing the laptop for the rest of the night? We’re here. We’re safe. We don’t have to figure everything out all at once.”

  She managed to nod as a second cramp nearly knocked the wind out of her. She forced herself to focus on the breathing exercises as she felt Blake’s hand on her back. The physical connection to him had a calming effect on her.

  “Sounds like a good idea.” Worst case scenario, the cramps continued, and they had to call her doctor or head over to the hospital. They were close to both.

  “Does it help if I massage here?” He ran his hand along her lower back with the perfect amount of pressure.

  “That feels amazing.” It also gave her something to focus on besides the cramps. She felt a tightening in her stomach as well. Braxton Hicks contractions?

  The thought of having contractions, false or otherwise, caused her to panic. Going through all this for the first t
ime wasn’t for the faint of heart. She also recognized the amount of stress she’d been under recently was most likely affecting her. Basically, she needed to find a way to chill out.

  A movie? The big screen was tempting, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d curled up on the couch to watch TV. Figuring out how to turn it on and find a channel would be the tricky part. She motioned toward the flat-screen. “Maybe we could watch something to take our minds off everything going on?”

  “I’ll grab the remote.” He didn’t miss a beat getting up and locating it on the coffee table. It was another smart device. She figured this house was probably wired with more intelligence than she was.

  After a few minutes, a full menu of movie options covered the screen.

  “Something light or funny would be nice,” she said.

  He found several options. Apparently, there were entire channels for this sort of thing. She’d missed out on the binge-watch culture, preferring to read or work a good crossword puzzle. She listened to music for background noise. But, mostly, she worked. Taking over the family business from her father under extreme circumstances had been like drinking from a fire hose. She’d known a lot of the basics of running the day-to-day operations. But it was her father who handled all the financials. He was the one who made the visits, which she now realized was so he could hand off a bribe.

  The movie they’d settled on wasn’t fifteen minutes in when the next cramp hit. This was by far the worst one she’d experienced. The baby kicked and a sudden urge to use the restroom said the little angel had kicked Alyssa’s bladder. Breathing through the pain barely made a dent.

  “We should call the doctor,” she finally conceded, grateful to have Blake with her.

  He reached for the cell and she couldn’t help but think how relieved he’d looked when they figured out what was going on with her family business. Did he also realize she’d never stopped loving him?

  The next cramp told her something was definitely wrong.

  Chapter Twenty

  Go to the hospital.

  Blake noted the doctor hadn’t messed around on the call. It took her all of about half a second to make her declaration. Within two minutes, they were on the way to the Jeep and he was trying to remember where he’d set the control panel for the house.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked.

  “The controls.”

  “You’ll move faster without me. I’ll wait right here.” She opened the door to the Jeep and kept it cracked.

  “Hold on a quick second.” He rushed inside, realizing he’d placed the control panel on the side table while helping Alyssa out to the Jeep. He armed the alarm and then set the timer to lock the door in thirty seconds. He left the control panel on the table and jetted out the door.

  Alyssa was gone.

  There’d been no screaming and he hadn’t been inside for more than a minute. She wasn’t in the Jeep. He glanced up the road and saw brake lights. He bolted toward the driver’s seat and was inside with the engine running in two shakes.

  If the other vehicle got away, it was over. He knew it deep in the pit of his stomach. The vehicle was blacked out, no lights unless the driver tapped the brakes. It was a dark color, gray or black. The license plate had been removed. Following wasn’t difficult considering the two-lane street was quiet and the car was moving at a steady clip without drawing too much attention by speeding.

  Why did the car seem familiar?

  Using voice commands, he told his cell to call 911.

  “What’s your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

  He identified himself as an officer and then explained the situation, giving a rapid-fire version.

  “Stay on the line, sir. I have several officers in the area. One is a couple of blocks away.”

  “Can you have the officer block off Amethyst Road?”

  “Hold on, please.” She returned a few seconds later. “Affirmative.”

  The vehicle wouldn’t get out of the neighborhood. A small win but he’d take it. Alyssa was somewhere in the vehicle. The thought of her in the trunk, cramping, trying to breathe was a gut punch. She could be in the back seat, hunkered over, he reasoned.

  He pulled close enough to see eyes staring at him through the rearview mirror—eyes he recognized as Liz’s.

  “The person driving the vehicle in front of me is a fellow officer,” he informed Dispatch. “Her name is Liz Roark and she should be considered armed and dangerous. She also has kidnapped a late-term pregnant woman and has her in her vehicle.”

  “Roger that.”

  His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Alyssa would have been surprised but not shocked to see Liz pull up or come around the corner. Had she stopped by earlier to case the place? Check out the security situation. See if there were any holes or opportunities she could exploit?

  Sirens sounded in the distance and Liz’s eyes locked on to Blake’s.

  “Don’t do this, Liz.” He said the words out loud, hoping she could read his lips. Could he call her and talk her out of doing something she would regret?

  Keeping the dispatcher on the line was the smart thing to do. It was protocol. But, dammit, he couldn’t take a risk with Alyssa’s life. With his child’s life. There was a darkness to Liz’s eyes, and he had no idea if he could get through to her. Not trying wasn’t an option.

  “I have to go,” was all he said. He ended the call to the background noise of protests coming from the dispatcher. He used voice commands to call Liz.

  She refused to answer.

  So, he called again. He would keep calling until she picked up. His second call went straight to voicemail. He flashed high beams at her and called again.

  This time, she picked up.

  “Don’t do this, Liz,” he warned. “Stop and let’s talk this out.”

  “It’s a little late for that, Blake.”

  “It’s never too late to do the right thing,” he said.

  She issued a sharp sigh.

  “A marked vehicle is on its way. Those sirens are coming for you. Let’s stop and talk about a plan. I can help you.”

  “Why would you do that?” she scoffed. Her voice might be familiar but there was a detached quality that sent an icy chill racing down his back.

  “We go back a long way, Liz.”

  “It’s too late for me now.” The distant quality had an air of hopelessness.

  “Impossible. Whatever is going on, we can find a solution.” He was careful not to make promises he knew would be impossible to keep. Like they could find a way out of this for her. There was no denying the fact she was in serious trouble.

  “Right, O’Connor. And if I believe that I bet there’s a bridge you want to sell me.”

  His logical appeal wasn’t working. The sirens were getting closer. She had to know she was trapped. So, why was she so calm?

  “Liz, stop the car.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Please.”

  “I can’t.”

  Can’t? “Why not. You’re the one in control here.”

  The throaty laugh she released was almost manic.

  “Is that what you believe? That I’m the mastermind behind all this? I thought you knew me better than that, Blake.”

  “Then tell me.” Questions were mounting but asking directly could be a mistake. Liz sounded like she was on the ledge, about to jump off. “I want to know. I care about what happens to you.”

  “All you care about is that slut who doesn’t deserve you.” She was all fire and bitterness now.

  “That’s not true. You and I have always been close. From the first day we partnered up, we clicked.” It was true. They’d had a comradery he now realized ran a lot deeper than close friends on her side.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Stop the vehicle, Liz. Let
’s talk this out. Whatever you’ve gotten into, we can find the exit.”

  She put an end to the call without replying. For a few tense seconds, he thought she might do just the opposite, press the pedal to the metal. But then, brake lights.

  He exhaled the breath he’d been holding.

  As the vehicle came to a complete stop, lights from a squad car lit up the night sky. Blake put his Jeep in park and bolted from the driver’s seat.

  Hands in the air, he approached the driver’s side of her vehicle. He scanned the back seat and his gut clenched when there was no sign of Alyssa.

  Liz’s window came down. She had a gun in her right hand, holding it against the steering wheel. “You’ll figure it out sooner or later, so I might as well go ahead and tell you. I’m Bus Stop.”

  “Pop the trunk, Liz.” He used as calm and steady a voice as he could. A steady panic twisted his gut in knots.

  She pulled the lever as the squad car roared up, blocking her exit. She was boxed in between his Jeep and the squad car in front.

  “Step out of your vehicle and put your hands where I can see ’em.” The stern female voice blasted through a loudspeaker.

  Liz seemed to take a long moment to contemplate her options. Then came a sharp sigh.

  “I’m sorry, Blake.” The trunk popped open and then Liz set her weapon on the passenger seat.

  Hands in the air, Blake backtracked a few steps. The trunk was empty.

  Liz was a decoy.

  Blake spun her around and looked her dead in the eyes. “You have two seconds to tell me where she is and where they’re going.”

  To his surprise, she did.

  * * *

  ALYSSA WAS ON her side, hands duct-taped behind her back at the wrists. A cramp brought her knees to her chest as she bounced around in the back seat of the SUV. The vehicle was speeding down the small road toward an unknown destination. The only thing keeping her alive in her estimation was the information she had, and now she realized the information must be evidence against the Judge.