Phoenix Legacy

by Corrina Lawson

  “So long as we speak about it,” Alec said.

  Cheshire pointed to a Restricted Area sign to the far left, past the offices and cubicles. The private facility. Philip had guessed right. The real work was done behind closed doors.

  As they passed the large, metal door that had been visible upon entering the lab, Philip tapped it with his knuckles. “What’s this?”

  “Our refrigeration area. The samples can be quite delicate,” Cheshire said.

  “Do you transport them for testing elsewhere?” Philip asked. Where else are you keeping the samples, doctor?

  “We don’t trust them to any outside facility. Our samples do not leave this lab.”

  Philip couldn’t judge the truth of that. Cheshire was already too nervous from lying about something. He would need to be interrogated at length later.

  “All the sperm samples are here?” Alec asked, voice bland again.

  “And some embryos as well, though none have yet proved viable. That could be a problem from the eggs we obtained anonymously. If we do this again, we will have to have fully vetted eggs. We have to learn from our mistakes. And, sadly, the sperm samples from the three subjects are fewer than we would like.”

  Three sperm samples?

  Philip frowned. Lansing and Alec. That was two. So who was the origin of the third sperm sample?

  Motherfucking son of a bitch.

  Philip turned away from Cheshire and Alec to keep them from seeing the anger that must be written all over his face. His own sperm must be the origin of the third sample.

  He’d been in the hospital recovering from injuries often enough in his CIA career. Unconscious in those hospitals more than once as well. Lansing would’ve known that. It would have been easy enough to obtain his sperm, he supposed. He hadn’t kept a particular eye out for people wanting to collect it.

  He fought an overwhelming desire to slam Cheshire against the wall and demand answers to every single question that burned in his mind. Instead, he clamped down on his anger and smoothed his face back so he looked more like “Norman Parker” than “Philip Drake”.

  “We’ll need an up-to-date accounting of the test sample’s progress,” Alec said as they reached the door to the restricted lab.

  “Of course. It’s very encouraging, you know. One implantation and it worked.” Cheshire smiled. “We need to talk more about that. I want to monitor our subject more closely. Mr. Genet was of the opinion it was best to stay in the background until the child was born instead of bringing the mother into our facilities. Before he passed, Mr. Lansing thought that was the best way as well. But I don’t. Perhaps you can make Mr. Genet understand how essential information during the pregnancy is to our research. We need to have her with us.”

  “Perhaps we can,” Philip said. “Where are the facilities to hold her?”

  “Oh, no, Mr. Parker, we wouldn’t hurt her. We’d take very good care of her and the child. They’re both incredibly important, don’t you think?”

  Philip pictured his hand wrapped around Cheshire’s throat. The real culprit behind the stolen sperm, however, was Lansing, and he was dead already.

  Cheshire punched a code into a keyboard to the left of the restricted access door and inserted a key simultaneously. The door buzzed, and Cheshire pushed it open.

  Philip heard a very quiet but distinct click. Fuck.

  “Bomb!” he yelled to warn Alec.

  Philip tackled Cheshire, sending them both to the floor as an explosion roared around them.

  Philip hit hard on his shoulder. He heard Cheshire’s head bounce off the floor with a nasty thunk. Above them, Alec stood in the flames. The fire licked at his feet, his waist and his shoulders. He paid no mind and sent the flames upward to the ceiling.

  Philip sucked in a breath. Beth dubbed this Alec’s superhero mode but, to him, the young man looked like a god in motion. He had no doubt that despite his quick action, he and Cheshire would be dead if Alec hadn’t taken control of the explosion.

  Alec pushed the fire upward, mitigating the heat and the flames. Philip scrambled to his feet and yelled at the employees—some already running—to get out as fast as possible. Philip grabbed Cheshire off the floor and held him by the lapels of his lab coat. “What was in there that was so valuable, Doctor?”

  Cheshire’s face was white. Sweat rolled down his cheeks from the heat of the fire. “We have to get out of here!”

  “What was in there?” Philip asked again.

  “Our main lab. And the back-up storage for our records. And, my God—Demetrius, my assistant, is in there!”

  Demetrius was likely collateral damage. The records had been what someone wanted destroyed. That someone likely equaled Genet.

  Philip shoved Cheshire over to Alec. “Get him and get out of here.”

  “Where the hell are you going?” Alec yelled over the sounds of a glass bottle shattering behind them.

  “Someone’s in the lab.”

  “There are probably toxic fumes in there. Are you insane?” Alec shouted.

  “Yes,” Philip said and plunged through the doorway.

  Chapter Five

  The ob-gyn pushed Del’s shirt back into place. Del was learning to tolerate these appointments. Four months down, five to go. She’d even talked Tammy into letting her come alone today. Tammy was being great about checking up on her, but Del didn’t want her hovering. She especially didn’t want Tammy knowing about the meeting with the adoption lawyers Del had scheduled immediately after finishing with the doctor.

  Tammy still maintained Del should keep the baby. Del hadn’t decided. Adoption seemed the more logical choice.

  “Everything looks good, Ms. Sefton,” the doctor said. “I did want to ask you about one thing in the ultrasound report we received.”

  Del sat up. She knew it. That odd hesitation by the ultrasound tech had meant something.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Dr. Fine smiled. She’d come highly recommended by Del’s regular gynecologist, and Del could see why. Dr. Fine looked like everyone’s favorite grandmother, and she had a comforting, maternal manner. A little like Tammy, Del decided.

  “Your baby’s healthy,” Dr. Fine said. “But I wanted to ask you about the due date. Are you sure that your date of conception is accurate?”

  Damn straight, I’m sure. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Your baby showed development much more in line with a five-month-old fetus than four months.”

  “Is that bad?” Del asked.

  “Only if we have the due date as incorrect and you go into labor a month early, before you’re ready.” Dr. Fine smiled reassuringly again.

  “Ah, no worries then. I’m positive of when the baby was conceived.” The date of conception was one of the few certain things about her pregnancy.

  The doctor made a note on the chart. “No doubt future ultrasounds will pinpoint exactly when we can expect this child. The important thing is that your baby is healthy and growing.”

  “Right.” Dr. Fine didn’t believe her. Del tried not to take offense. After all, probably a lot of women shaded the truth about their pregnancies, even to their doctors. If her son was growing faster than normal, the doctor had a right to be concerned.

  Maybe she should have reported the rape. Then no one would question whether she’d mixed up the timing. But reporting anything to the police didn’t come easily to her. She’d grown up hiding from the authorities. Besides, she had nothing to give the police about her rapist. All she had was a hole in her memory. What could they possibly do with that?

  She wondered what she should tell the adoption lawyers about the baby’s father. They’d probably want to know because of parental rights and all that. Del had absorbed that language when she’d been in foster care. But would people turn away this kid because his father was a rapist? Maybe it was better to keep that part quiet.

  Del was still debating the question in her head as she left the doctor’s office, went down one floor of the office bui
lding and looked for the lawyer’s office. It was definitely convenient that the adoption lawyers and the doctors were in the same building. Not a coincidence, Del guessed.

  She took a deep breath, a cleansing breath, as she opened the door. She’d have to learn more about those deep, cleansing breaths. She probably should take prenatal classes. Tammy had volunteered to be her partner. But she’d be in a class with women who all were keeping their kids, all excited about having another family member. All excited, Del guessed, about being moms, with all sorts of plans for the future.

  Del didn’t know if she could take that much gushiness about becoming a parent.

  She walked into the lawyer’s office. No one was in the waiting room. The receptionist was behind a glass window, just like the one in the doctor’s office. The young man smiled, got out of his chair and opened the door into the main hallway. “Ms. Sefton, welcome, the gentlemen are expecting you.”

  Del nodded and let the receptionist lead her into yet another office.

  Two men were already there, both dressed in suits. Of course they were in suits. They were lawyers.

  The older one sat in a chair opposite the oak desk, brown glasses low on his round, somewhat weathered face. The second lawyer was standing, staring out of the window slats into the parking lot. His suit was obviously tailored and so dark blue it almost seemed black, a stunning contrast to his blond hair, cut short with a few natural curls in the front.

  He turned to her, no expression on his face, and she felt as if she was looking at a movie star. She was no shrimp at five-foot-ten, but this man was at least five inches taller than her. He was so good-looking that she finally understood the expression about “melting at someone’s feet”.

  “Welcome, Ms. Sefton.” The older one stood. “I’m Rudy Buchanan and this is my colleague, Mr. Edward Genet the fifth.”

  The fifth? Of course the movie star would have an important-sounding name. Genet smiled at her. Whoa. Del blinked and looked at Buchanan because to keep her gaze on Genet would be like staring at a shining star.

  Buchanan shook her hand.

  “Very nice to meet you.”

  Buchanan had a firm grip, but his hand was a little sweaty. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Buchanan. Should we get started?”

  “Please, take a seat,” Buchanan said.

  Del sat down, suddenly tired. The waves of fatigue were coming more frequently lately. It was supposed to be normal. If this was normal for motherhood, she’d take a rain check. That was why she was here, after all.

  Genet sat down behind the desk, taking command of the room. Of course he would. Where else would a king sit?

  “We’re so pleased to meet you,” Genet said.

  “Thank you.” She had a million questions about this whole process. She didn’t ask them. She had found out from years of tending bar to wait while people talked. They said more that way.

  Genet sat forward and put his hands flat on the desk. He smiled that dazzling smile again. She wondered if anyone ever went blind from it. She seriously doubted he was an ordinary attorney. She wished she’d kept this to phone or email. She didn’t want to deal with Mr. Perfect in person.

  “We’re so pleased you are considering our offer to set up a private adoption,” Genet said.

  “You came highly recommended by the clinic,” Del said. They’d been happy to provide the name of an attorney after Del had canceled the abortion. “So what does all this involve?”

  “In short, an adoption means you will carry the child to term and sign away your parental rights after the baby is born. After the adoption is final, you will be reimbursed for any medical expenses not paid by your insurance plus any incidental expenses like travel to your doctor and lost wages.”

  “Where would the baby go? Would I meet the parents?”

  “Our clients prefer a closed adoption,” Buchanan said.

  Damn. Still, a closed adoption might be better. Out of sight, out of mind, Del thought. “How would I know the baby’s being taken care of if I have no contact at all with the parents?”

  “We can provide you with information about the parents, general information about where the baby will live, and send you photos of the child once a year,” Buchanan said.

  Genet sat forward, intense. “You’re doing an incredibly wonderful thing by allowing this child to be adopted, Ms. Sefton. Rest assured, we guarantee that this baby will have a loving home.”

  “And you’ll put that in writing?”

  “Of course.” Genet leaned back in the chair and gestured to Buchanan.

  Buchanan adjusted his tie. It was pale blue, nothing remarkable, just like the rest of him. She glanced back over at Genet. His tie was bright red, an unusual color. It was decorated with three yellow lions facing outward. Regal, she thought.

  “I know this sounds overwhelming, but we’ve done this a number of times, and it’s worked well for everyone,” Buchanan said. “The baby has a good home, the parents who want a child are happy, and you will be able to move on with your life.” He opened a file on his lap. “I do have to ask you about the baby’s father, to make certain he will consent to the adoption. You mentioned he was out of the picture?”

  Del took a deep breath. Moment of truth. “I was attacked and, I think, drugged. I don’t remember what happened. I’d still be wondering what happened, I think, except that I took a pregnancy test a month later and it turned up positive.”

  “You have my profound condolences for your ordeal,” Genet said.

  “Thank you.” Del stared at him. He seemed genuinely sorry. So why did she feel so nervous? “So, obviously, contacting the father isn’t possible.”

  Genet made a note on his legal pad. “Sadly, this situation happens more than you think. We can work around it.”

  “So what else do I need to do to make this happen?” she asked.

  “There are some legal forms you can sign now stating your intention about giving the baby up for adoption, but those are not binding until after the child is born.”

  “Take me through how it all works,” Del said. Not binding. She liked the sound of that.

  Genet turned his full attention on her, charm wattage on high voltage. He began by explaining that he was adopted himself, that’s why he had specialized in this field. Like Tammy, he talked about what a good life he’d had and how he considered his adoptive family as his family. He’d never searched for his birth parents, he said.

  She found herself warming to him because sincerity began to peek out from underneath the charm. His story was certainly a good reason why he was working in suburban New Jersey as an attorney when he should be out modeling or something.

  “You naturally want to give your child the best chance to succeed in life, the best chance to be the most intelligent, healthiest, strongest child possible. You would do anything, I would imagine, to ensure that bright future for your child. Any parent would. Sometimes ensuring that means making a sacrifice that will benefit the child.”

  She could afford to have a child. Bar & Grill wasn’t a huge moneymaker, but it was enough to support two people. More so because Del lived in the apartment on the second floor of the bar. That was big enough for two. Tammy had been serious about supplying babysitters.

  I should not be unsure about this.

  She should have thrown out the ultrasound photo. That was why she was having second thoughts now. She definitely shouldn’t have put it up on her fridge where she could see the photo of her unborn son every time she wanted a glass of ice water. Which was a lot lately.

  “Why do your clients want to adopt a baby, Mr. Genet?”

  Genet leaned back in the chair again, damping down the charm. Buchanan leaned forward in the chair across from her. He was less charming but in some ways, more reassuring. He seemed much more normal.

  “We have several couples who want to adopt the child you carry,” Buchanan said. “Two of them have tried in-vitro fertilization and it hasn’t worked. The other—” Buchanan cleared his thr
oat, “—is a married gay couple who are desperate to start a family. This is the only way they can.”

  Del nodded. “Do you think the couples that tried to have their own kid will consider mine their second choice?”

  “Never. Our clients undergo a psychological screening. They will not have issues like that. All they want is a child to love.”

  So the attorney said. Del sighed. “You said I had to sign a preliminary statement. What else? Do I pay you guys a fee?”

  “No, our fees are paid by the adopting couple,” Buchanan said.

  “How much are your fees?” she asked.

  “If you’re asking if we benefit financially from this, we do,” Genet said. “But we wouldn’t practice this kind of law if we didn’t believe in it. It’s not about money for us.”

  Del nodded. He had her convinced on that.

  “As for what’s involved, once you sign your intention to proceed with an adoption, you’ll have to sign over permission for us to view your medical records. Our clients will want to track the progress of the baby.”

  “My medical records?”

  “Your child will become something of a joint venture,” Buchanan said. “We have to verify what you tell us with your medical records. And the adoptive parents want to track the child’s progress. It makes them feel a part of the process.”

  At least someone wanted to volunteer as part of the “process”. “I guess I get that, but it seems intrusive.”

  Genet said, “It’s information that is already in your medical file. Nothing intrusive about it.”

  She looked at Genet. He returned her gaze with a benign smile, yet she had sensed some hostility in his words.

  “So I sign my intention to give the child up for adoption and sign permission for people to get my medical records. What else? Don’t I get some say in something?”

  “We will provide you with profiles of the couples interested in the baby,” Buchanan said. “The choice of where the child goes is yours.”

  “I see.” Something inside her wanted to walk out of here. She couldn’t tell if it was uncertainty about the adoption or if it was Genet. For some reason, he was impatient. That didn’t make a lot of sense for a go-between. At least, she thought it didn’t.