Protecting Their Baby

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “It was a delivery.” He held out a sealed envelope. “From the lab.”

  “Oh, my God. The results of the test.” Her hands started to shake. “Will you open it?”

  He nodded and tore the flap. As he lifted a white sheet of paper, her pulse pounded at her throat.

  He read it, and she waited for his response, praying that Maggie and Tim weren’t her parents.

  He looked up, and her pulse pounded again.

  “Not a biological match,” he said.

  Her knees went weak with relief. But her relief didn’t last long.

  By the end of the week, Ian and Rex uncovered details about the bombing and discovered who her birth parents actually were, and it was worse than she could’ve imagined.

  Chapter 13

  Lisa struggled to comprehend the truth, to accept it. She and Rex were at a nearby park, where they’d gone to discuss the details. The bright and sunny setting did little to ease the tension.

  She could have been in the depths of hell.

  Her birth parents’ names were John and Denise Masterson. They were white supremacists.

  They were also murderers.

  When Lisa was only two months old, John and Denise had bombed a cultural center in Los Angeles. At the time, the center was hosting a family gathering for ethnic minorities. It had been one of the worst cases of racial violence the city had ever seen—a massacre of men, women and children.

  She glanced at Rex. They sat near the pond, but they weren’t feeding the ducks. Rex claimed it was bad for the environment and for the life cycle of the birds.

  “Are you sure they’re my parents?” she asked.

  “Yes. We obtained a copy of the adoption records.”

  Of course they did, she thought. A private investigator and an off-the-clock special agent would do no less.

  “I’m sorry, Lisa.”

  “At least they’re dead.” During the course of the bombing, John and Denise had gotten too close to the explosion, killing themselves along with their victims.

  “There’s a bit more I need to tell you.”

  She braced herself. “Go ahead.”

  “We discovered that Maggie and Tim are your godparents, and after John and Denise died, they tried to adopt you. But they were denied.”

  That explained why they’d gotten so possessive of her. She rubbed her arms, chilled, even if it was a warm day. “Were they denied because of their association with the bombers?”

  He nodded. “The adoption agency was concerned that they’d been involved, too.”

  “Do you think they were?”

  “Yes, but there was never any evidence linking them to the crime. They were questioned, along with other members of their organization, but no charges were ever filed.”

  “Which is probably what’s making them so bold now,” she said. “The reason they think they can get away with threatening me. What does Bell think about all of this?”

  “He considers them suspects. But he still doesn’t have any evidence against them.”

  “So there isn’t anything the police can do, other than question Tim and Maggie when they drift in from their phony vacation?”

  “If I could get away with threatening them right back, I would.”

  “Vigilantism is illegal.”

  “So is what they’re doing to you. Better me being in the line of fire than a woman and child.”

  Because it seemed useless to argue, she turned quiet. In the silence, he sat back and watched the ducks.

  Lisa followed the birds, too. Some were light, some were dark and some were a combination of both, all cohabitating together. “Was I baptized at the church Tim and Maggie attend?”

  “Yes, but it had a different name then.”

  “Did you come across any pictures of John and Denise?”

  He turned away from the pond. “You don’t want to see them, do you?”

  There was a part of her that wanted to know what they looked like and another part that was afraid of seeing herself in their faces. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Of course he didn’t. He was trying to protect her. “I favor them, don’t I?”

  He didn’t respond right away. Was he debating if he should lie? “A little,” he finally said.

  A lot, she thought. He’d downplayed the truth. “I’m not like them inside.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. She’d wanted so badly to believe that her birth parents had been decent people. “How could they kill innocent families? Children?”

  “Don’t think about it, Lisa.”

  Sage advice that never seemed to work. “I should visit the victims’ graves. I should bring them flowers.” And tell them how sorry she was. “Do you have their names? Can you find out what cemeteries they’re at?”

  He nodded. “But I don’t want you going alone. We’ll arrange some time to go together.”

  “Thank you.” There was no way to right the wrong, but at least she could try.

  With the father of her baby by her side.

  It was harder than Lisa imagined. For three days, she and Rex drove from cemetery to cemetery, with a list of the bombing victims and the location of their graves.

  This was the final day, the final cemetery and the final family on their list. It was quiet, unlike yesterday’s experience, where a funeral procession and casket-lowering had taken place, crowding the burial grounds.

  Today’s stillness gave her no peace. The serenity of grassy slopes and carefully chosen headstones made her terribly sad.

  Fearful, too. Was death dark? Was it lonely? How had it been for the people her birth parents had killed? Quick? Chaotic? Were they panic-stricken? Had they suffered before they’d died or had the explosion taken them instantly? Had children clung to their mothers? Had husbands reached for their wives only to have parts of their bodies blown to bits?

  Families, she thought. Human lives destroyed in the blink of an eye.

  As they walked toward the resting places of Esteban, Mary and Manny Alvarez, her breath hitched. Manny had been only two years old when he’d died.

  “Do you think my parents are going to start feeling differently about me now?” She and Rex had told her mom and dad the whole sordid story, and although they’d reacted like the caring, supportive family they’d always been, she still worried about the long-term effect.

  He stopped walking, and they stood at the top of a hill with a sea of graves around them. “How can you say that? How can you even think it? Your mom and dad love you.”

  “I know. But it almost makes adoption seem like a crap shoot. You never really know what you’re getting.”

  “Your parents got a beautiful baby who grew into a beautiful young woman.”

  Then why did she feel so dirty, so tainted? When Rex leaned over to give her a gentle kiss, she almost pulled away. As she stiffened, he whispered an endearment against her lips.

  For all the good it did. At the moment, she didn’t feel as if she deserved it.

  Much too emotional, she clutched the gifts in her hand. Flowers for Esteban and Mary and a Winnie the Pooh pinwheel for Manny.

  Tears collected in her eyes. Was it Rex’s affection or sorrow for the dead that was making her cry?

  He stepped back, and she sniffed and put on a brave smile that made her ache in the center of her mixed-up soul.

  “I’ll be okay,” she told him.

  He didn’t look as if he believed her, but he kept quiet.

  When they reached the Alvarezes’ grave site, she knelt to put the gifts in place. Had they been identified by their dental records? The thought made her sick.

  “Manny would have been thirty-two by now,” she said. “Probably married with kids of his own.”

  “It’s called survivor’s guilt, Lisa.”

  “What is?”

  “What you’re feeling.”

  “How can it be survivor’s guilt
? I wasn’t there when it happened.”

  “No, but you feel responsible. If John and Denise would have brought you with them that day, you would have perished with them and everyone else.”

  “I’m glad John and Denise are dead.” She adjusted the pinwheel, hoping it would spin, but it didn’t. “You’re right, though. I do feel guilty about the innocent people who were taken.” Manny’s little grave had a teddy bear etched on it.

  “Maybe you should talk to someone.”

  “I am talking to someone. I’m talking to you.” She looked into his eyes. She’d been telling herself that she was half in love with him, but that was a lie. She was all the way in love, and between what she felt for him and what she’d learned about her birth parents, she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from the world.

  Could she feel any worse? Her genetics haunted the very core of her, and she loved a man who didn’t love her back. No strings attached except for the baby. He was still living by that motto. So was she, only in pretense.

  “I don’t think I’m equipped to fix this for you,” he said.

  He was talking about her survivor’s guilt. She wondered what he would say if she admitted that she loved him. It didn’t matter because she wouldn’t dare tell him that she’d gone and done the unthinkable.

  “I’ll get through it on my own,” she responded.

  “Will you?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “At least talk to your mom and dad.”

  Once again, he was referring to the guilt. But he was probably referring to her fears about the adoption, too.

  She couldn’t deny his advice. She needed reassurance that her parents still loved her. Although deep down she knew they did, she needed to hear them say it out loud.

  “How did you get so wise?” she asked.

  He smiled, then shrugged, then frowned. “I’m not very wise about my own life. I still haven’t told my mom and dad about our daughter.”

  Because he couldn’t handle their reaction, she thought. The old-fashioned pressure they would put on him to marry her.

  “You’ll tell them when you’re ready,” she responded for lack of something better to say.

  “Yeah, but when will that be? After the threats are over? After Tim and Maggie are in prison? Or will I wait until Kamama is born?”

  “I don’t know.” But him calling the baby by her nickname made Lisa’s heart tighten in her chest.

  “I guess we’re both not thinking clearly today. Sometimes life gets confusing.”

  “So does death.” She gazed at the granite markers in front of them. “Do you speak Spanish?”

  “No. Why? Did you want to say a prayer for Manny and his parents in Spanish?”

  She nodded. Spanish was the Alvarezes’ native tongue.

  “I know the Lord’s Prayer in Cherokee. Would that be all right? I can teach it to you. A gift from our child to theirs.”

  She cradled her stomach, anxious for the little one to grow, to move about, to flutter its butterfly wings. “I think that’s a beautiful idea.”

  “I’ll say a verse, then you can repeat it.”

  “Okay.” She remained on her knees and so did he.

  The language was difficult for Lisa to enunciate, but she recited the words the best she could, saying each one carefully.

  As Rex reached for her hand, offering his support, the pinwheel began to move, turning slowly, making the soft, spring breeze part of the prayer.

  She hoped it was a sign that Manny and his parents were actually listening.

  The next day, Rex took Lisa to her parents’ house. Dad was on a vintage car excursion with Grandpa, but Mom was available.

  “I’m going to take off,” Rex said. “Call me when you want me to come back and get you.”

  “I can bring her home,” Mom said.

  “Okay. Thanks.” He turned to Lisa. “But I still want you to call me.”

  “I will.” She had to work later, but for now she was hanging on to what was left of her emotional sanity. “Where are you going?”

  “To my place to catch up on a few things.”

  An icy sensation shot through her blood. The last time he’d returned to his condo, the gutted rabbit had been waiting for him on his doorstep.

  He gauged her expression, as if reading her mind. “I can stay here if you’d prefer. I don’t have to go right now.”

  “That’s okay.” Rex had set up security cameras around his condo. He’d done the same thing around her house, from all angles. If Tim and Maggie or anyone else crept onto either property, their images would be on film.

  “You sure? I don’t mind staying.”

  “No, really, it’s all right. You should go.” She needed some time alone with her mom.

  Who, by the way, was watching Lisa and Rex with a curious eye. Self-conscious, they didn’t hug or kiss. They merely said goodbye.

  Except…

  As he headed for the door, he glanced back, making her want to rush into his arms. But holding on to him wasn’t going to keep her safe, at least not from loving him.

  She was too far gone for that.

  He left, and Mom said, “You fell for him, didn’t you?”

  Lisa nodded. By now, her knees were shaky. She sat on the sofa and drew her legs up. “Everything is out of control. The way I feel about him, the way I’m afraid you and Dad might start feeling about me.”

  “Me and Dad? What are you talking about?”

  “The adoption, Mom, and who my birth parents are.”

  “Oh, dear heaven.” The older woman sat beside her. “You can’t possibly think that would ever affect how your father and I feel about you. You’re our baby, our perfect little girl. Nothing could ever change that. Nothing ever will. We could never, ever love you any less.”

  “But what if you knew then what you know now? Would you have adopted me anyway?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” Maternal love. Maternal compassion. “You were an innocent child. Nothing that those people did has anything to do with you.”

  Needing to get closer, Lisa put her head on her mom’s lap. As always, Mom looked like the warmhearted, family-oriented suburban lady she was. When Lisa was little, she used to think that her mom could’ve been in a Kool-Aid commercial. “Rex says I have survivor’s guilt.”

  A gentle hand stroked her hair. “Rex seems to know you pretty well.”

  “Not well enough.”

  “He doesn’t suspect that you love him?”

  “We agreed to a no-strings relationship.”

  “Then maybe you should—”

  “Tell him how I feel?” She sat up, her heart racing. “I can’t. It would freak him out. He isn’t a commitment kind of guy.”

  “So you’re just going to suffer through it?”

  “I’d be suffering more if I told him. Besides, I knew better. Even you warned me not to get too attached.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything. That wasn’t my place.”

  “Yes, it was. If my daughter was in danger of falling for the wrong man, I’d tell her, too.”

  Mom poked Lisa’s tummy. “It could be a boy.”

  “No. No. Didn’t I tell you? Olivia said it was a girl, and Rex and I are sure it is, too.”

  Mom grinned. “You’re all psychics now?”

  “I guess so.” She grinned, too, feeling a bit better.

  “You know what we should do? We should go out and look at baby furniture. We should start designing your nursery.”

  “It sounds fun, but this early?”

  “We don’t have to buy anything. We’re just going to get some ideas.”

  “Okay.” Now she really did feel better. But that was what moms were for. Lisa got off the couch, ready to window shop.

  Then a moment of fear set in, like the quiet before the storm. But she willed it away, refusing to create an obstacle in her mind.

  Chapter 14

  Rex’s cell phone rang, and seeing Lisa’s name on the screen made his
pulse jump, which wasn’t a good thing. For him, it was totally out of character, and he didn’t like it.

  He’d been thinking about her all day, not the case, not the baby, but her, and being consumed by a woman preyed on emotions he didn’t know he had. The distant way they’d said goodbye earlier had left him feeling empty. Distracted, too. He’d barely gotten anything done.

  The phone chimed again, and he cursed to himself and answered it. He was way too anxious to hear her voice.

  “Rex?” she said, after he said “Hello.”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “You sound different.”

  “I’m the same.” Or so he hoped. “Where are you?”

  “In my mom’s car. We’re headed to my house. Where are you?”

  “I’m still at the condo.” And it seemed vacant, even though it was packed with his belongings. Maybe he’d just been away for too long. Maybe he just needed to get used to it again.

  Her voice bubbled, girlish and happy. “Guess where we went? Looking at baby furniture. It was so much fun. I found the most adorable crib set.”

  He wasn’t sure what a crib set was, but he assumed it was the bedding.

  She continued. “It’s called butterfly magic. Isn’t that perfect? There’s even a matching lamp and mobile that goes with it.”

  “So, you bought it?”

  “No. I’m going to get it later. I need to decide what type of crib to get first. There’s still plenty of time.” She paused and her voice changed. Less confident, less excited. “Is a butterfly set okay with you? You don’t think it’s too much, do you? Calling her butterfly and putting butterflies in her room?”

  “No, of course not. Kamama will love it.” He didn’t know anything about decorating a nursery, but he cared about how the room looked. He’d already considered the color scheme. “Is the set pink or pastel or whatever?”

  “It’s mostly pink, but it has other colors in it, too. It’s a quilted design.” Lisa sounded happy again. “I can show it to you online.”

  “Sure. That sounds great. I’ll be headed home soon, too.” Home? It was bad enough that he couldn’t get her off his mind. He didn’t need to get attached to her house, too. The place was too damn small for him, too damn feminine. He had his own digs.