SH Medical 07 - The Detective's Accidental Baby

by Diamond, Jacqueline

  Later, as they were cleaning up, the doctor addressed Erica quietly. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “Just a little off.”

  “Are you sure?”

  On the verge of insisting she was fine, Erica realized that she did need an ob-gyn. Since moving west, she’d postponed scheduling her annual physical, and hadn’t yet selected a physician. Who better than someone she already knew and trusted? “I might be pregnant.”

  “Why don’t we go over to my office and I’ll give you a test?” Paige suggested.

  “I can pick up a kit at the pharmacy.” Another wave of nausea swept through Erica. She leaned against the wall.

  “A kit won’t check your vitals and answer your questions,” the taller woman said as she stripped off her surgical gown. “If you don’t mind my asking, is there a steady guy in the picture?”

  It was too complicated to explain, so Erica simply said, “No.”

  “Then I recommend you have someone else with you when you get the news. Me, for instance. It’s a bad idea to be standing in a bathroom with nothing but a pink stick to keep you company.”

  Erica felt an unexpected longing for Lock’s sturdy presence. Much as she took pride in managing her own problems, she hadn’t counted on her traitorous body making her feel shaky. Or on her hormone-fueled psyche longing for a shoulder to lean on.

  Oh, right. Lock was the last person she should be with when she got the news. Too many issues to deal with, on top of the pregnancy itself. Paige’s offer made sense, and Erica had finished her shift for the day. “Do you have time now?”

  “I’ll make time.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” Erica promised. “Thanks, Dr. Brennan.”

  “Glad to help. And look on the bright side. Pregnancy isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a woman.” Was that a wistful note in the other woman’s voice? “See you shortly.”

  Half an hour later, Erica sat in an examining room in the medical building adjacent to the hospital, receiving news she really didn’t want to hear.

  “You’re definitely pregnant.” Dr. Brennan studied the test results in the computer. “I’d put your due date at mid-November.”

  A rush of tears caught Erica off guard. As they streamed down her cheeks, Paige handed her a box of tissues. “I know this is tough.”

  Embarrassed, Erica mopped herself up. “We have so many patients who’d give anything to be in this position.”

  The red-haired doctor inhaled sharply. Did she long for a baby, too? According to hospital gossip, she was neither married nor dating anyone steadily.

  Well, neither am I.

  “You have some decisions to make,” the doctor went on. “How about talking to a counselor? I can recommend someone who specializes in maternity issues.”

  That was exactly the advice Erica would give another woman in her situation. But to her, relying on a therapist felt like an admission of weakness. “No, thanks.”

  Her hand drifted to her abdomen. Impossible as it seemed, there was a baby growing in there, a tiny version of herself or Lock. Would it have his intense blue eyes or her hazel ones? And what about their personalities? She had to smile.

  Paige regarded her questioningly. “What’s so funny?”

  “Is it possible for a baby to be born cynical?” Erica asked. “Because this one is going to inherit that trait from both sides.”

  “I once delivered a baby that was the spitting image of W. C. Fields. He’s the comedian who said, ‘A woman drove me to drink and I didn’t even have the decency to thank her,’” Paige responded. “I swear, that kid’s fingers were twitching as if trying to twirl a cigar. Nearly made me believe in reincarnation.”

  Erica laughed. “I’d like a picture of that.” As for the baby inside her, she already had a mental picture of a little person who’d suddenly become much more than a theoretical possibility. A person with roots deep inside her genetic heritage, and Lock’s. A person who deserved much better than to be brought up by an unprepared and unwilling mother.

  “What’s on your mind?” the doctor asked. “You just ran through half a dozen different facial expressions and I’m fresh out of ESP.”

  “I’m facing the fact that I have neither the temperament nor the desire to be a mom,” Erica said. “I’m going to put him or her up for adoption. And the sooner I get the paperwork taken care of, the better.”

  “There’s no hurry,” Paige cautioned. “It’s a big step. I really do recommend seeing a counselor.”

  She shrugged off the advice. “Why waste everyone’s time? I’ll be a lot happier if I know I’m doing this for a family who will cherish this child, and that in the end, I’ll walk away a free woman.”

  “Very well.” Dr. Brennan jotted a note in the computer. “I’ll ask my nurse to give you a prescription for maternal vitamins and schedule your next appointment. You’ll need blood work, too. In the meantime, I suggest you talk to Tony Franco.”

  “The hospital attorney?” He was also Dr. Nora Franco’s brother-in-law, Erica recalled. She’d met the man a few times at staff meetings.

  “He keeps a list of local adoption agencies, and he can advise you on the legalities,” Paige said.

  “Sounds good.”

  After getting dressed, Erica put in a call. Tony agreed to meet with her right away in his office on the fifth floor of the hospital.

  On the short walk to the next building, she enjoyed the soft breeze and the scent of early spring flowers. Her spirits felt lighter now that she’d made her decision. The coming months might be difficult, but she could see light at the end of the tunnel. Or was that at the end of the birth canal? Erica mused.

  In the administrative suite, Tony, a steady man with rust-brown hair, ushered her into his office and listened thoughtfully as Erica explained the circumstances. Although his desk bore a photo of his wife, six-year-old stepson and toddler daughter, he didn’t try to talk her out of her decision. However, he raised a point she hadn’t anticipated.

  “You do know who the father is, correct?” Tony asked, tilting back his swivel chair. Behind him, a large window overlooked a panorama of cliffs, beach and white-flecked Pacific Ocean.

  “Of course!”

  “I don’t mean to insult you.” Tony spread his hands placatingly. “It’s just that, unless he’s what the courts call a ‘casual inseminator,’ he has a right to contest the adoption.”

  “He has what?” In Erica’s opinion, an unmarried and essentially uninvolved father shouldn’t have any rights.

  Tony reached into a drawer and retrieved a document. “This is a waiver of his parental rights. He can sign it before the child is born, which would be the easiest thing, from your perspective.”

  “Is this absolutely necessary?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  That meant not only having to reveal the situation to Lock, which she’d planned to do anyway, but requesting his cooperation. “I suppose I could mail it to him,” Erica muttered. “No, that’s not a good idea, is it?”

  “My advice is to make sure he feels respected. Courtesy goes a long way,” Tony said. “If you like, I can talk to him.”

  Although she appreciated the offer, Erica doubted Lock would react well to hearing about this from a lawyer. “I’d better see him myself.”

  “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” Tony spoke earnestly.

  “Thanks.” Taking the document, which the attorney tucked inside a protective folder, Erica rose stiffly. This infant might not be any bigger than her thumbnail, but as she crossed the thick carpet, it weighed heavily on her.

  Still, what was Lock going to do? He might fuss, but in the end, he’d go along. And if he offered chocolates and massages during the pregnancy, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?<
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  As quickly as she entertained the notion, Erica dismissed it. Once she had his signature on the paper, it would be best if they never saw each other again.

  Chapter Seven

  The smell of machine oil filled Lock’s office, although he could see that his client had made an honest attempt at cleaning up. On their previous in-person contacts, he’d visited Phil DiDonato at his garage, but this time the mechanic had insisted on coming to him.

  On the desk lay a file open to the photo Lock had provided of Phil’s eleven-year-old niece smoking cigarettes with a couple teenagers. It had seemed precisely the evidence Phil needed to convince his mother that the girl needed stronger supervision than she could provide.

  “When I said Kelli should live with me, Mom went ballistic.” The mechanic paced the floor. Although in his mid-thirties, he had a weathered complexion, in part from riding all-terrain vehicles in the desert. “She called me a bad influence. That’s crazy! I’ve been Kelli’s surrogate dad since her father died in Iraq.” He’d explained previously that her mother suffered from severe depression and couldn’t take care of the girl, which was why Phil’s mom had custody.

  “Your mother must be concerned that her granddaughter is cutting school.” Lock tried not to get personally involved in cases, but this girl looked so young and vulnerable. Her situation reminded him in some ways of his own childhood, except that she had a grandmother and an uncle who loved her. Too bad she didn’t appreciate how lucky she was.

  “Mom’s in denial, I guess you’d say.” Phil gestured with his oil-stained hands. In a frayed but clean work shirt and jeans, he was the picture of a hardworking guy at the end of a long day. “Now she’s mad at me. Mom even threatened to cut me off from Kelli, which isn’t fair to either of us.”

  “Kelli doesn’t act rebellious around you?” Lock asked.

  “She still likes going to the movies or bowling with her old uncle, even though she does spend part of the time texting.”

  If this were his niece, Lock imagined he’d crack down on that. But never having been in such a situation, he was hardly in a position to give advice.

  “The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll get.” Phil resumed pacing. “Today it’s cigarettes, tomorrow it could be drugs or sex. I figure if she lived with me, boys would think twice about messing with her.”

  “Still, she needs a mother figure, too.” Since the grandmother had raised the girl for the past eight years, they must have a close bond, no matter how defiant Kelli acted.

  “Any suggestions?”

  Changing a grandmother’s mind and reining in a wayward adolescent fell outside Lock’s area of expertise. But without intervention, this girl was headed for serious trouble. “I know where she hangs out and who her so-called friends are. Let me keep an eye on her. I’ll swing by from time to time, but not so often that she’s likely to notice.”

  Phil cleared his throat. “If you see her involved in anything illegal, you’ll call me, not the cops, right?”

  “If there’s immediate danger, I’d have to call them. Plus, I do have legal obligations.” Lock had to be frank about that. “But that leaves a big gray area. Basically, I’m not here to sic the police on my clients or their families.”

  “Thanks.” Phil shook hands. “I’ll pay whatever it costs.”

  “I’ll try to keep it within reason.”

  Lock escorted him out. At this hour, past six, the secretary had gone home and there was no sign of Patty.

  Through the closed door of Mike’s office, Lock heard his brother on the phone, giving his standard spiel about what they charged and what services they provided. “Mind if I ask where you got our name?” he was saying. “The Yellow Pages? Well, I’d be happy to provide you with a list of references if you’d like.”

  Good thing Mike spearheaded the sales end of things, because new business was essential and sales was his forte. The company had come with a list of corporate clients acquired by its retired founder, an ex-cop and ex-marine named Bruce Hunter, but they weren’t enough to keep three detectives busy.

  After holding open the exit door for Phil, Lock was about to retreat when he heard a light step below on the stairs, and then the mechanic say, “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  “I can squeeze by,” a woman responded. Lock’s throat tightened as he recognized the husky tone.

  Erica.

  Straightening, he fought back the urge to run his hand across his stubbly jaw. No time to shave, anyway.

  Then it occurred to him what this must mean. Erica wouldn’t bother to drop by simply to relieve his concerns.

  Lock reminded himself to stay calm. Yet if he was going to be a father… It didn’t seem possible. Even though he’d been turning over the idea for weeks, it now struck him as unlikely. She must have some other reason for coming.

  Perhaps she’d found out he’d been spying on her? That would be awkward.

  He stayed where he was, still holding the door open, as Erica came up the stairs. She looked crisply professional in a salmon blazer and print skirt. Despite the ironic twist to her mouth, he caught a hint of uncertainty in her eyes when she spotted him. “I didn’t expect a welcome committee.”

  “Glad you could drop by.”

  “Interesting location. I never heard of Sexy Over Sixty before. Get much business from the senior crowd?” As she moved past, a trace of sweetness floated in the air.

  “Sometimes,” he said. “We’ve helped expose a couple of investment scams. And older people have cheating spouses just like younger ones.” Lock’s hands flexed with an impulse to touch that tumble of blond hair.

  Her gaze traveled along the wall in the reception area, past the array of certificates to a framed newspaper clipping about Lock pulling two people from a burning building. “Something of a hero, are you?”

  “Just doing my job.”

  He was about to ask what brought her here when he heard Mike say, “I’ll stop by tomorrow morning at ten. Thanks for calling Fact Hunter Investigations, Mrs. Smith.”

  Any minute, Mike was likely to emerge, and he’d almost certainly recognize Erica from the photos Lock had shot. If he learned of their involvement, there’d be hell to pay.

  “Smith?” repeated Erica. “Are people afraid to give their real names?”

  “Some people actually are called Smith.” Putting a gentle hand on the small of her back, Lock steered her into his office.

  Had he left anything incriminating on his desk or computer screen? he wondered as he closed the door behind them. Although Lock was no longer working on the Ginnifer Moran case, he’d received an email from her this morning. She’d thanked him for his thoroughness and for preventing a marriage that would have been a disaster.

  His computer monitor showed the usual array of icons. On the desk, the only thing that stood out was the photo of Phil’s niece, which he swept into a folder. “Pretend you didn’t see that.”

  “I’m not here to pry.” She gripped the back of a chair, suddenly pale.

  Lock hurried to her side. “Are you okay? Anything I can get you? Water or coffee?”

  Growing even paler, she sank into the seat. “Just your signature on this.” From her large purse, she drew a file folder and handed him a legal-looking document.

  Was she seeking child support? Lock hadn’t considered that possibility, but he could hardly object. Taking the paper, he read the header a couple of times before the meaning dawned. “You’re asking me to waive my parental rights. Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re pregnant?”

  Her eyes widened. “I meant to say that first. Yes, obviously, I am.”

  Lock struggled for a response. Hard to find one when so many different reactions seethed inside him. Wonder. Concern. A little guilt, too, for putting her in a position she so
clearly didn’t want. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

  “The doctor says I’m fine. I’d like to settle on an adoptive family as soon as possible.” A small, determined figure, she stared at him fiercely. “I never wanted to go through a pregnancy, as you well know, but now that it’s happening, I’ll try to make the best of it. And this will be the best.”

  “For who?”

  “For everybody. Especially the child.”

  “It didn’t work out that way for me.” Realizing he was crumpling the paper, Lock relaxed his grip. Why was he arguing? He couldn’t force Erica to keep the baby. He wasn’t even sure he wanted her to.

  “I don’t know why your birth mother chose those awful people, but I can assure you I’ll be careful,” Erica told him. “Furthermore, this isn’t your decision.”

  He scowled at the paper. “Apparently it is, since you need my permission.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Are you planning to spend the next eight months feeling like a bloated whale with the flu? You have a lot of nerve giving me grief over this.”

  Lock flinched. “I never meant to do this to you.”

  “Let’s not get into a discussion of blame,” Erica said tightly. “Sign the damn paper and you can go your merry way.”

  He ought to be grateful that she wanted nothing more than that. Instead, Lock kept picturing her cozy apartment, the radiance from a stained-glass lamp illuminating her face as she gazed invitingly at him. They’d found something, created something. Started a new life in a moment of ecstasy. That meant a lot.

  “What’s the hurry?” He wished he didn’t sound so strained. Keep it casual and she might ease off, at least for now. “How soon could you select a family, anyway?”

  Erica blew a tendril of hair off her cheek. “I suppose I should wait till after the first trimester, but I can start doing research now.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “You, you big jerk.”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “You don’t mince words.”

  She fished in her purse and handed him a pen. “That’s right. So sign it.”