by Arlene James
Ed folded the note and put it in his pocket. “Just that we should call if we need him.” So much for measuring up to David Greenlea’s standard. But he wouldn’t worry about that now. First things first. And the first thing was to get her settled someplace safe. One place came immediately to mind. “I have to make a phone call, honey. Will you be all right here for a minute or two?”
She assured him that she would be, and he walked out into a hallway where he’d seen a pay phone. In his earlier haste, he’d forgotten his cell phone. He dialed up the Sugarmans. The phone rang only once before Parker’s gruff voice greeted him. Ed apologized for the hour, then quickly brought Parker up to speed, finishing with “I wouldn’t ask, good buddy, but I’ve got an important matter to take care of, and I don’t want Laurel left alone while I’m gone.”
“You’re going after the baby,” Parker surmised correctly.
“I have to.”
“I understand,” Parker said. “Need some help? I seem to remember you kept the car running for me once.”
“Would Ken shoot me if I said yes?”
“You forget that she’s been in Laurel’s shoes.”
“No, I don’t, and Laurel won’t ever forget it, either, after tonight”
“I’ll put clean sheets on the bed in the guest room,” Parker said and hung up.
When Edward told Laurel where they were headed, once they were in the car, she protested. It was too late, an imposition, and finally, “Have they changed their minds about me?”
He was surprised. “No. There was nothing to change. Parker thought I was the crazy one from the beginning, and Kendra simply didn’t know you. They both feel bad about what happened, but please don’t hold it against them. I’m the one to blame.”
“I thought we’d dealt with that,” she said quietly.
He reached across the car and took her hand in his. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“Just bring my baby home,” she said. “I don’t care about the rest anymore. He can have it all. I just want Barry home.”
“That’s exactly what he wants you to feel and say, Laurel.” Edward pointed out. “You leave everything to me, all right?”
She nodded, and he marveled at the trust in her expression. God, could he get lucky enough to work this out? He still hadn’t told her that he was the one who had spilled her secret to Bryce. Pretty soon now she was going to start wondering how Bryce had learned about his nephew, and when he had to tell her…He didn’t even want to think about what might happen then. First things first, he reminded himself. Kendra was practically waiting for them in the doorway. She took one look at Laurel and threw her arms around her. “You poor thing! Don’t you worry. Come in and let me make you something to drink. What drugs did they give you at the hospital? We don’t want any negative reactions. Let’s get an ice pack on that cheek.”
Laurel pulled out the papers they’d given her at the hospital and put her head together with Kendra, deciphering them. Edward pulled Parker aside. “You sure you want in on this? Bryce is no grandmotherly baby-sitter.”
“All the more reason not to go alone.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that, and frankly, I need someone around to make sure I don’t kill the guy.”
Parker sucked in a deep breath and looked over in Laurel’s direction. “I hope I’m up to that.”
“So do I.”
Kendra offered Laurel a fresh nightgown. Edward realized then that she was wearing that little cotton job over a pair of gray knit pants and under a denim jacket. His mouth went dry, remembering how she’d looked sans pants and jacket, and then he realized that must have been exactly how she’d looked to Bryce Miller when he’d forced his way into the apartment and started hitting her. God help him, he would kill the worm. To distract himself from his anger, he offered to go by Laurel’s apartment to pick up some necessities. She gave him her keys and tried to suggest a list of things to get, but the drugs they’d given her at the hospital and Kendra’s herbal tea, compounded by the drain on her emotions, combined to rob her of her last shreds of energy. She was almost asleep sitting up. Kendra took her off to bed, promising her that Parker would know quite well what to bring for her and the baby. She cast a last, lingering look in Edward’s direction, a look so full of trust and hope that it nearly brought him to his knees.
He didn’t realize how strongly he’d reacted until he felt himself gasping for breath and Parker’s hand on his shoulder.
“Welcome to the wild world of love, buddy mine,” Parker told him. “Don’t worry. Kendra will take care of her tonight, and you’ll take care of everything else in time.”
“I hope so,” Edward said, his voice thick with emotion, and then he told Parker what he’d done.
Parker thought a moment and shook his head. “Well, it won’t help to stand around here worrying about it. We have work to do.”
“Right,” Edward agreed. “First things first.” It was becoming his mantra.
They went to the apartment first. Parker advised Ed that he’d need diapers and a few changes of clothes for the boy, a bottle or two, a small bag of toys. They found his medicine in the cabinet and the car seat at the foot of the crib. Parker decided that they should take those things, too. Ed himself went through Laurel’s things and chose some jeans and shorts, a casual dress or two, a variety of blouses and tops. He dug through her underthings, doggedly choosing the least provocative things and tossing them into the bag he’d found in the closet. He added a pair of silk pajamas, a nightshirt and a thin cotton bathrobe—all summerweight things. When he came to the bathroom, he again let Parker advise him and wound up with a hair dryer, brush and comb, a small bag of cosmetics that sat on the counter next to the sink, a stick of deodorant, shampoo and conditioner, a spray bottle of some kind of hair stiffener and a toothbrush and tube of paste.
“That ought to hold her for a day or two.”
Parker looked at the shoe boxes stacked nearly ceiling to floor and said, “I think you may have forgotten something.”
It took Ed ten minutes to find a simple pair of sneakers and a pair of frilly house slippers, pink satin with some sort of feather stuck to the toes. They wagged it all down to the car and stowed everything in the trunk except the safety seat, which Parker expertly belted into place in the back seat.
From there, they drove to the Heffington manse. Motion detector lights flashed on as they drove up to the house. Both men got out, leaving the car doors open and the engine running and walked up to the front door. They could hear a baby in deep distress screaming at the top of his lungs and a man and woman shouting at each other. Parker pounded on the door, but Edward wasn’t waiting to be let in. He tried the door, found it was locked and calmly kicked it down.
“Ed!”
But he wasn’t waiting around to be told to calm down—or for the police to show. He had little doubt that he’d set off an silent alarm. He strode into the entry, got his bearings and turned toward the foot of the stairs. He met Bryce Miller and the skinny maid coming down. Bryce broke off yelling at her to “do something about that damned kid!” and started yelling at Edward to “get the hell out of my house!”
Edward helped himself to a handful of Miller’s T-shirt and nearly yanked him out of his jockey shorts. Parker came up on Edward’s right and said, “I’ll find the kid. Don’t kill him too bad until I get back.”
The “maid” jerked her head toward the right. “I’ll take you to him. He ain’t done nothing but cry since he got here.”
“You’re supposed to be helping me!” Bryce bawled at her.
She bawled right back. “I told you I don’t know nothing about kids!” She shook her head, apparently uncaring that Bryce was likely to get his face broken in several places during the next few minutes, and started back up the stairs, Parker hurrying her ahead of him.
Edward was free to concentrate fully on Bryce Miller, and Bryce wisely did not appreciate the look in Edward’s pale blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt her!�
�� he exclaimed. “I lost my temper. You can understand. She kept my nephew from me all these months and—”
He never finished the sentence. Having Edward’s fist in his mouth made speech difficult. He was crawling up the stairs backward when Parker reappeared with Barry. The poor little tyke’s face was swollen from his tears. His nose was running and he had crammed his fist into his mouth to hold back the howls while he tried to make sense of this latest business. He cocked his little head at Edward, red hair standing up straight as if from an electric charge, and seemed to recognize him. At least he seemed to know with whom he’d last seen this big guy. “Mama?” he said, between gasps.
“That’s right, pal. We’re taking you to Mama,” Edward told him while Parker attempted to smooth down his hair.
“She’s not his mother,” Bryce spat.
Edward motioned for Parker to take the child downstairs, waited patiently until they were on their way, then reached down and yanked Bryce Miller onto his feet. “Listen up, scum,” he said, getting right in Miller’s face. “I know you weren’t bright enough to act on your own. Left to your own devices you certainly wouldn’t saddle yourself with anybody’s kid, nephew or no. So this message is for Kennison. He went over the line on this one, and he’s going to pay for it. That’s a promise.”
The maid folded her arms and harrumphed. “I told him it was stupid. Let Abe take care of the kid then, I said, but did he listen? Does he ever?”
“Shut your face, Pamela!” Bryce snarled.
“You just try to make me, you worm. I’ll tell everything I know, and where’ll you be then? I’ll tell you where. In the pen, that’s where!”
Edward grinned. “I think it’s unanimous, Miller. You’re a new life-form, something lower than pond scum. Pond scum will look good next to you if you ever lay hands on another woman again. You hear me?”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Bryce said in a wavering voice. “I’ll call the police.”
“You do that,” Edward advised. “It’ll save them having to come find you. The warrant should be just about ready.”
“You won’t get away with this!” Bryce said.
“Oh, I think I will,” Ed said and calmly bloodied his nose. He bent over and wiped his knuckles on Miller’s T-shirt, flexed his fingers and took a business card from his wallet, flipping it at Pamela. “Just in case you need someone to talk to.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Ed looked down at Bryce, who was writhing on the stairs, holding his nose and howling like he was dying. “I wouldn’t stay around here. Sooner or later, he’ll be wanting a punching bag to take out his frustrations on.”
She sneered at the pathetic excuse for a man on the floor. “He ever hits me, I’ll cut off his—”
Edward. put back his head and laughed. “You do that.”
She grinned and slipped the card into the pocket on the front of the man’s shirt she was wearing, presumably Bryce’s. “I can forget what happened to that door if you want.”
Edward chuckled and started down the stairs, calling back over his shoulder, “Don’t bother. I won’t mind paying the damages, not one bit.”
The last thing he heard was her foot connecting with some part of Miller’s anatomy and her strident voice saying, “Now there’s a man. Not like you, always skittering around after that cold ghoul Kennison.”
She went on, but Edward had heard plenty, more than enough, in fact. And he could still use both hands. All in all, a very satisfying experience.
Chapter Twelve
Laurel awoke with a jerk, disoriented, aching, alarmed. Where was she? What had happened? It all came back in a rush. Bryce ripping the screen out of her window when she wouldn’t open the door, stepping in, walking across her folded-out bed and to the crib, where she’d taken up a protective stance, his shouts, her begging, the baby’s screams, the slap first and then his fist, and finally the struggle at the door, being shoved down repeatedly, Barry screaming for his mama as Bryce carried him away from her. She had found herself on her knees on the landing, hugging her middle to keep herself from flying apart. She remembered the neighbors gathering around her, the sirens in the distance, and realizing that the high, keening sound was coming from her own throat. Her worst nightmare had come to pass. Bryce had taken her son.
But then Edward had come, promising that all would be well, and somehow she had believed him. She remembered his arms about her and the warmth of his voice, exactly as she had imagined they would be. The rest was pretty blurry. She knew that she was at the Sugarmans’ and remembered Kendra’s herbal tea and being put to bed as if she were the child, and she remembered that Edward had promised her she’d be back with Barry before breakfast. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed, then tried to lull herself back to sleep, but it was no use. She could feel herself trembling from the inside out, and her mind would not block images of Barry reaching for her, his face contorted in fear. After long, restless minutes, she got up and looked around the small, elegant room.
Her bathrobe had been laid across the foot of the bed, and a pair of her slippers sat side by side at the foot. Edward. She felt warmed, despite the cold knot of fear in her stomach. Donning the robe over her borrowed gown, “she visited the tiny bathroom, then put her feet into the slippers and stepped out into the hallway. Taking a moment to orient herself, she tiptoed toward the door to the living area, making her way by the half-light of early morning. The house was still and silent. She moved out onto the columned room and wandered toward the kitchen. To her left, she spied a soft, flickering, bluish light.
Remembering that the Sugarmans had referred to a multipurpose room, she moved to the partially open door and peeked inside. The flickering light came from the television across the room near the fireplace. Someone had gone off to bed and left the TV playing. With the sound turned down, they had probably forgotten about it. She knew how that was. Several times lately, she’d lain in bed alone at night and watched the silent screen while Barry lay sleeping nearby, only to wake and find that it was morning and the television played on. She walked around the end of the big overstuffed sofa and switched off the power. When she turned, it was to discover the most precious sight she’d ever seen.
Edward lay on his back on the sofa, knees drawn up to accommodate his height, one arm dangling over the side, knuckles on the carpeted floor. His short hair was mashed flat, and his jaws and chin were covered with a dark, rough shadow. His mouth was slightly ajar beneath the heavy brush of his mustache. He looked utterly charming, but what took her breath away and brought instant tears to her eyes was the sight of her small son cuddled against Edward’s chest, his bottom tucked into the curve of Edward’s arm. He was on his stomach, and the drool from his mouth had wet a spot the size of Laurel’s fist on Edward’s shirt.
Laurel covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sob of pure joy that immediately rose from her throat. He was here, sleeping peacefully, safe, well, and she knew exactly whom she had to thank for it. She went down on her knees next to the couch and lifted Edward’s hand in both of hers. He jerked slightly and moaned. His knuckles were scraped and swollen, and she had no doubt how that had happened. Tears of gratitude rolled down her cheeks. She kissed those bruised knuckles, feeling the slight pull and sting of her busted lip.
When she lifted her gaze, it was to find him staring at her, his sleepy face unusually solemn. “You brought him home,” she said softly.
His hand turned in hers and lifted free to cup the back of her head. As naturally as breathing, he pulled her to him, and just as naturally, she went up on her knees and bent her head. Their lips met, gently at first, all softness and comfort. Then she sifted one hand into the thick, springy pelt of hair on the top of his head, while the other slipped up his prickly throat to the underside of his chin. The pressure of their mouths increased proportionally, as did the rasp of his beard and the prickle of his mustache, and she shifted the slant of hers to accommodate the tiny split near one corner of her upper lip
. Edward moaned softly, and the hand at the back of her head became an arm curled around her neck. His tongue slid into her mouth, and her own welcomed it with languid undulations and curling strokes. It was like swallowing fire and being licked by it in every sensitive spot in her body. It was lightning followed by bright, leaping flames that roared quickly out of control. Overwhelmed, she sat back on her heels with a gasp, breaking the kiss, the fingers of one hand going to the split in her lip.
Edward glanced down at the little one snuggled against his chest, then back at Laurel. “Did I hurt you?” he whispered worriedly.
She shook her head, smiling behind her hand.
“You sure?”
She dropped her hand and leaned close again, bringing her mouth to his ear, where she whispered, “I’m sure.”
He turned his head far to the left, until they were nose to nose. “Then why did you stop kissing me?”
She sat back again, searching for the right words. “I suppose you scare me a little,” she finally admitted. “It’s like turning on the faucet for a drink of water and finding yourself in a flash flood. I don’t know if I swim well enough to survive it!”
He lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “I won’t let you drown, sweetheart. I promise.”
Tears came to her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to believe him, but it was so hard to trust again. She grasped his wrist, amazed at its thick strength, and whispered, “What does that mean, Edward?”
He cleared his throat. “It means that I—”
Suddenly Barry squealed, curled his body in a stretch and screwed his face up in preparation for a full-blown howl. Then Laurel spoke to him, and his little eyes popped open. Howls turned to smiles. He pushed up onto his knees and elbows and literally crawled over Edward’s face toward her, babbling merrily. Edward and Laurel both laughed. Then Edward bolted up, holding Barry at arm’s length.
“Whew! Bad diaper!”
Laurel swept him into her arms and hugged him tight. “Oh, I’m so glad to see my sunshine boy!” She pushed him out to arm’s length again. “Golly, you reek. Let’s get that diaper changed.” She looked at Edward, eyes shining. “Where are his things?”
