She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. You have to wait three minutes.” She was expressly not looking at the strip on the stick in her hand.
“How long has it been?”
“However long I’ve been standing here, minus the thirty seconds it took me to get out here afterward.”
He stared at her hand. It was trembling, the little test also shaking. Wouldn’t matter if it was in vise grips right in front of his nose, he had no idea how to read results on it.
“Give it to me,” he said, reaching out for it. Either she would, or his question would tick her off enough to get her out of the seemingly panicked state she’d apparently fallen into.
She shook her head. “I can handle it just fine,” she told him, irritation clearly in her tone. So good, he’d pissed her off. Would distract her from any panic.
After looking at the phone she’d carried out with her, she dropped it back to her side, the stopwatch app he’d seen briefly now facing her skirt. She said nothing.
Apparently, he wasn’t privy to the timing.
So they stood there, facing each other from several feet apart. He didn’t know about her, but his heart was thumping and he either wanted a beer or to never eat again, depending on which second was ticking past.
When the high beeping sounded from her phone, he felt his entire body tense, though, thankfully, he didn’t reach for the gun at his side as he had earlier when the truck had first started careening toward Charlize. He’d been too far away at that point to get a shot off. And later, had only been interested in getting to her, making sure she was okay.
And...she’d glanced at the stick. Quickly. And then again. At which point, she didn’t glance away.
What was she trying to do? Kill him?
“Well?” he asked.
He knew, when her gaze met his, what she was going to tell him.
And still felt a blow from the words when she said, “It’s positive.”
* * *
She’d been worrying about that very moment for weeks. Ten weeks. Every day praying for her period that would tell her she wasn’t pregnant. And every night going to bed without it.
The reality of facing this situation was worse than anything she’d imagined.
Never, in her worst nightmare, had she imagined Riley Colton standing in her living room, losing color in the skin she could see above his beard, staring at her as though she’d just told him he had a week left to live.
And yet...she felt oddly...elated, too! Could that be right? Standing there, assessing everything from the outside in, as though she was in the home of one of her clients instead of her own, she checked herself.
Becoming a mother had always been as important to her as finding her one true love. So the latter had proved to be a fantasy that broke her heart—that didn’t mean she couldn’t thrive on the motherhood part.
A baby!
She had a baby growing inside her! She touched her stomach, feeling warm inside as she let her hand rest over the flatness.
She was going to be a mother...and have a son or daughter of her own!
Oh, God. She had to sit down.
Ramifications flooded her brain in no logical form or order of importance. She’d need a nursery. Aunt Blythe’s sewing room? She couldn’t ask her aunt to give that up.
Would they have to move? She loved their neighborhood—or had until a pickup had tried to run her over that afternoon. Aunt Blythe had several friends within walking distance.
And... Riley Colton was still there. Standing by the window. His expression seemingly vacant.
Seeing him, a bit of order returned to her existence. She had to get rid of him.
“Why are you here?” He’d said he’d tell her after the test. It was after the test. He needed to say his piece and vacate the premises. And her life.
Her phone rang. An officer was coming by within an hour to take her statement. Riley was answering a text. Looked over at her. “I’m going to head to the station to give my statement,” he said. “I’m going to take a few pictures outside first.” He moved toward the door.
“Wait a minute!” Just a damned minute. He wasn’t walking out on her again.
He turned back. Nodded, though she had no idea what he was agreeing to. Wasn’t even sure he knew. The man looked poleaxed. Not to be mean, but she kind of liked that he was suffering a bit after what he’d put her through.
And hated that he was, too. Because that was her way. She cared about people. Felt compassion for them.
“Why were you heading down my street?” she asked.
“We need to talk about...this.” He pointed to the basic vicinity of her midsection.
She wanted to refuse, especially since he couldn’t have known she was pregnant when he was walking down her street. She wanted to deny him any conversation at all regarding the rest of her life. But knew she didn’t have that right. Not ethically. And not legally, either.
“I agree,” she said. “And we will, but for right now, it’s best if we each get a little space to process. We just found out. Until half an hour ago, you didn’t even know of the possibility. Let’s think it over, and then talk.”
His nod this time was more vigorous. He seemed to almost smile, but with the beard, she couldn’t be sure. But she was pretty sure she’d just gotten closer to getting rid of him.
She had plans to make. A doctor’s appointment to schedule. Things to think about. She was going to be a mother!
Aunt Blythe would struggle a bit with Charlize not having a husband. As would her parents have if they’d still been alive. Falling in love at first sight, and having that passion last a lifetime, ran in their family like dark hair, long legs and the need to wear glasses. It was up to her, as their only child, to continue the family heritage...
“I’m here to speak with your aunt.” Riley’s words brought her attention front and center on him. Fully focused.
Huh? “What business do you have with Aunt Blythe?” If he thought he was going to tell her aunt about Charlize’s one night of stupidity, well...
He pulled a card out of his back pocket, came close enough to hand it to her.
Aunt Blythe’s calling card? She looked at him, frowning. “Where did you get this?”
“I’m working on a case,” he said, suddenly alive again, his newly vibrant essence taking over the living room. Filling her with a sense of security and fear at the same time. “My client was suckered into an investment scam. He’s out fifty grand. He brought me the brochures he picked up from the seminar he attended and your aunt’s card was among them. I’d like to speak with her, to find out what she knows...”
Charlize stepped forward, protective instincts in full gear. “You think she’s involved somehow?”
“That’s what I need to find out.”
“What’s the scam?”
“My client invested in a new vitamin that doesn’t yet have FDA approval. It was an illegal pyramid scheme...”
Alarm bells rang. “Vitamins?” She didn’t care about the legalities of pyramid schemes at the moment. He hadn’t even completed a nod before she said, “RevitaYou?” Please, let this all be a mix-up.
“You know about them?” His brow creased as his gaze filled with a renewed urgency. “You aren’t taking them, are you?”
“Me? No!” And as he visibly relaxed back a space, she asked, “Why?” Feeling not the least bit relieved.
“Because they apparently made my client’s girlfriend sick.”
Oh, God. She stared at Riley, her heart pounding. “There’s a jar of them in my aunt’s bathroom. And a case under her bed.”
“You think she’s taking them herself.” It was a statement not a question. And based on the jar in the bathroom, she nodded.
“For how long?”
“I noticed them a week ago.”
An
d Aunt Blythe hadn’t been feeling well recently. Granted, she’d suffered from migraines most of her adult life, but...
“I asked her about them...she’s still really independent when it comes to her rights to her choices so I can only do so much...she said she was trying to turn back time...” she continued. “I didn’t like the sound of that, but she said they’re only vitamins, nothing prescription, so I wasn’t all that worried. Worst case, they were placebos that did nothing.”
Riley nodded. “They’re supposed to make you look ten years younger within weeks. Or that’s the scam that’s being sold.”
“By who?” She was pissed now. More than pissed.
“That’s what I need to find out. I need to speak with your aunt. To find out what she can tell me.”
Scared to the bone now, she needed him to be doing better at his job.
“What about your client? Didn’t he tell you who’s behind this?”
“He’s given me everything he has, and we’re just in the beginning stages of the investigation,” he said, speaking slowly, in a way that made her think he wasn’t telling her everything.
Maybe he couldn’t. She had to know, anyway. Her mother’s two older sisters—Aunt Blythe, and an aunt not far outside Grand Rapids, Gracie—were the only biological family she had left.
“The case just came to me today,” he said. “My brother and sisters and I are meeting tonight to discuss our next steps. We’re all just collecting what information we can to bring to the table.”
She nodded. Gathered herself together enough to know that alienating him at that point was not smart. To realize that she might need his help.
Not with the baby, but...he was a better witness to what happened to her that afternoon then she’d be...and now this vitamin thing with Aunt Blythe...
She searched her mind for anything she might know that could help him. “Aunt Blythe has been acting kind of jumpy these past couple of days. Absentminded, maybe. Like she could be nervous about something. She wouldn’t talk about it, though.” She wanted to go straight to the older woman. Get her up and...
“She’s out cold when she takes those headache pills,” she said aloud. “She’s seventy-six years old and while she’s still in good mental shape, she gets a bit forgetful when she’s upset, and is best after she’s rested...”
“That’s fine,” Riley said, backing up toward the door. “I’ll check back with you in the morning. The police are on their way, but are you sure you’re okay here alone?” He’d stopped several feet before the door.
“We have a state-of-the-art alarm system, inside and out, and I’ll keep my mace and cell phone within reach at all times.”
He still hesitated. Frowning. Fearing baby talk, something she absolutely wasn’t ready for at that point, she said, “I’m a big girl, Riley. I’ve been dealing with destructive clients most of my career and am fully trained in self-defence, and capable of looking out for myself.”
He nodded. Glanced again at her belly. Opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, closed it again and still didn’t leave.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, too,” she said softly, her heart reaching out to him. She was a natural at feeling out the needs of others and offering what help she could. It made her good at her job.
“Can I have your cell phone for a second?”
The request was odd, but after pulling it out of the pocket of her dress, she handed it to him. She had nothing to hide.
He pushed the screen a time or two, typed for a second, handed it back to her. “I should have done that three months ago,” he said. “My number’s there. I keep my cell on, and on me at all times. Call me if there’s even a hint of trouble tonight. Or if you think of anything else...”
She wasn’t going to call him. Even if there was trouble. She’d dial 911. As was her protocol. But she nodded. Saw him to the door. Locked it behind him.
And then, leaning back against it, let the tears flow.
Chapter 4
Michaela was off shift and had already left when Riley got to the police station. He gave his statement to an officer on hand, and sent the photos he’d taken of Charlize’s front yard and sidewalk from his phone to Detective Daniel Gomez, as the detective had instructed. It was possible whoever had almost hit Charlize had been paying attention to his phone, lost control of the car, and didn’t want her to report it—the reason for the threat she’d heard. More likely, one of her clients’ abusers had been trying to scare her off. Either way, the police had a handle on it.
By the time he got to the house Ashanti had left for the day. Her husband, Jeffrey, was hosting a regional math competition at the high school that night and Ashanti had volunteered to head up the technical security for the event, to prevent cheating.
Brody still wasn’t at Riley’s house. Wasn’t answering his phone. Which pissed Riley off a bit. He tried to hang on to the anger as he fed Pal, and put together a tray of veggies and dip, and another one of various cheeses and meats and crackers to feed his siblings. Brody had a lot of nerve, asking them all to give up time in their lives to help him, and then not showing up.
The anger didn’t make it through the first cucumber. The kid was scared to death. Riley hoped to God he was okay.
That Capital X or Wes Matthews hadn’t already gotten to him.
But as his brother and sisters gathered in their regular seats at the dining room table, all with folders and electronic tablets, but with no real news to report yet, he looked around at their mostly worried faces and said, “At this point, Capital X needs Brody alive so that they can get their money back. He’s got that in his favor.”
Everyone was munching off the trays he’d set out. Waiting on Brody, who knew the meeting was at eight. And he was begging them for help. Each of the siblings had their own set of questions for him—all different ways to try and figure out where Wes Matthews was. If he was working alone. Who supplied RevitaYou? And how did Capital X fit into it all?
“I can’t say the same for Wes Matthews. If he’s afraid Brody’s going to talk, or if someone did follow him this morning and they know he’s come to us for help...” He shook his head. They were all professionals. Knew the stakes.
A set of twins was on each side of the table, facing each other, with Griffin on one end and Riley on the other, and all exchanged glances. Just as they’d been doing since they were old enough to occupy those seats at the table. He’d been feeding them all ever since they entered his life. He’d gone from being the only child to nursemaid, babysitter, transporter, teacher, cheerleader, fight monitor, protector and tear wiper—all without anyone asking him what he wanted.
His parenting days had been thrust upon him as a young teen, by parents with a social schedule necessary to uphold Graham Colton’s political career. They’d hired help, of course. Nannies. Housekeepers. But the girls had always come to him. And his parents had, too, asking him to take up the slack.
Still, the girls were now all grown. As was Griffin, adopted by Graham and Kathleen after the girls were born. Griffin had come with his own set of needs—some of which had been thrust upon Riley. He’d tried his best to be there for his younger brother.
And maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough for Brody. By then, he’d already staked a claim on his own life, had been living a life of danger fighting crime as an agent with the FBI.
Riley’s parenting days had been long gone for years by then. And good riddance.
He gulped silently. Reached for the bottle of beer he’d brought to the table with him as he remembered his parting words to Charlize the night he’d walked out of that hotel room he’d rented for the two of them. Something about him not being in the market for a relationship, and having zero interest in marriage or children.
It had been completely true then. And was still.
And yet...he was going to be a father? He couldn’t wrap hi
s mind around the idea. Had absolutely no intention of letting his siblings know. At least not until he and Charlize talked.
He was going to be financially responsible for his offspring. That was a given.
And it struck him...what if she didn’t plan to have the baby? Or keep it? A whole new tension took hold of him. Not in a good way.
How could it have taken him so long to consider that there were other options?
Clearly his brain wasn’t in full functioning mode. He was in shock.
Suddenly, the need to know if she wanted to have the child was greater than anything else. He’d assumed she did. Needed to speak with her before she did anything. He had a say, didn’t he?
Maybe not.
But if she was going to do something, wouldn’t she have taken the pregnancy test sooner? She hadn’t had to wait three months.
Easing back into his seat, feeling a bit more relaxed, he looked up to see all five of his siblings staring at him.
“What?”
“Your phone just beeped a text.”
Because, of course, they all knew his ringtones for everything. They knew everything about him. Or thought they did.
After picking up the phone, he opened his messaging app. “It’s from Brody,” he said, “but from a number I don’t recognize.” And then read aloud,
“I’m safer on my own. Please find Matthews and my money so I can be in Sadie’s wedding instead of six feet under.”
Damn.
“He’s street savvy,” Griffin said, looking at the glum faces around the table. He’d finished off half the meat and cheese on his own, with his beer only a quarter gone. “And I’m not sure we should be taking on this case,” he continued. “We’re all about seeking justice, not finding big sums of money or solving white-collar crimes.”
“Brody’s seeking justice. He’s been scammed,” Sadie said. She’d brought in a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, as well.
Griffin scoffed. “Brody’s an attorney who most certainly should have known better than to buy into a pyramid scheme, and definitely had to have known the risk in getting involved with a loan shark! Besides, you all know he has no interest in justice. All he cares about is a high-paying corporate job and living the good life.”
Colton 911--Family Defender Page 4
