by Style, Linda
Her mother had written the names of the people who’d adopted her child. And Macy knew why her father would be ruined. Her mother also listed the school her child went to, the church they attended—and her son’s name. David. Her son’s name was David.
Her throat closed. Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. She crumpled the paper to her chest. Thank you, Mother. Thank you, God.
***
Macy didn’t know what to do first, but after a few hours of indecision, she found herself on the road to Santa Barbara, her pulse racing.
Arriving at the middle-school playground, she parked and sat in her car watching several boys playing kick ball, searching their faces for something familiar. Would she recognize him? Would he look like her? Or Jesse? Her hands were clammy and her stomach churned. If she saw him, what would she say? What would she do?
And then — there he was — and all her questions were answered. He looked like Jesse, only he had her blond hair and fair complexion. He was tall for twelve, like both her and his father. Lord, he was the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen.
This was her son. The boy who’d been given away without her knowledge. She wanted to shout, to tell him she loved him and make up for all the lost time.
My son. My son. Love swelled inside her. A mother’s love.
As she sat there, the ball sailed out of bounds and bounced against her fender. Without thinking, she got out of the car, picked up the ball and held it until the boy came over.
Her son. Her beautiful son.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said politely. “I’m sorry, I hope the ball didn’t damage your car. We’ll pay for it if it did.”
Macy froze. Couldn’t stop staring at his face. “Uh, no.” A cool gust of wind flicked a long strand of hair into her face. She reached up and pushed it back. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
He looked at her strangely. “Do I know you?”
Hope blossomed. There was a connection. As if he knew her somehow.
“Are you one of the new teachers?”
One of the teachers. As if she couldn’t be anything else. “No — no I’m not. I … uh, was looking for an address and stopped to look at my map.”
“Well, thanks again,” the boy said. And then he was gone — back to the playground — and she stood by the car door, knowing she couldn’t continue watching him or someone would think she was a stalker. Yet she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
He was so beautiful. He was her son.
Finally, she got back behind the wheel. He seemed happy. Really happy. Quickly, before he left, she took out her digital camera, zoomed in and snapped four shots.
Just then a car pulled up in front of her and a man climbed out. She recognized him immediately. Senator Hadly. The boy ran over and gave his father a handshake-type hug, the kind guys give so they don’t look like sissies. As they talked and laughed, she could see the camaraderie — and the love between them. Then the boy tossed the ball to his dad and they climbed into the big black sedan and drove away.
Macy watched until the car disappeared, then closed her eyes against the gut-wrenching sense of loss. He was her son. But he wasn’t. He had her genes and Jesse’s genes. That was all.
She drove home like a zombie, barely noticing the lights or signs. Inside her condo, she paced, unable to work, unable to think about anything except what had happened today. Rico. Her father. Her mother. Her son.
Her son.
And in the end, one significant thing remained. Rico had said he loved her. And she loved him.
She didn’t know what she could do about it, but with everything else gone, could she let that go, too?
***
Rico called for backup as Jordan climbed from their unmarked car in front of Haven’s Gate, a surprise visit to Dr. Dixon and Sally Brighton on their agenda. They went in together.
The receptionist’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. “We’re here to see Dr. Dixon and Sally Brighton.”
“I—I don’t know if—”
“Call them,” Rico ordered.
The girl picked up the phone. “There’s some officers here to see you, Dr. Dixon. And they want to see Mrs. Brighton, too.”
Within seconds, Dr. Dixon appeared with Sally Brighton at his side. “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”
“You can turn around and put your hands behind your back. You’re under arrest for tax evasion.”
Jordan cuffed the two while Rico gave them their Miranda Rights. Tax evasion was the only thing they could legally charge them with at the moment and make it stick, but that was only temporary. They had a whole list of charges they were working on. Including kidnapping and running an illegal adoption business under the guise of a nonprofit association.
“People from social services will be here before long,” Rico said to the receptionist. “They’ll help the residents find other accommodations.”
After booking Dixon and Brighton, Rico and Jordan headed for the bar. But after two beers, Rico said, “It’s time for me to split.”
Jordan looked surprised. “Stick around for a little while. Luke and Tex are coming by.”
Rico tried to smile. “I see them every day.”
“Well, do you have something better waiting at home?”
Jordan had him there. No, he didn’t. He had nothing to go home to — no one. “I’ve got a date with my couch and the TV. I like it that way, and it’s better than listening to you rowdies all night.” Yeah. Who the hell was he kidding?
So he stayed. But even after four beers, he couldn’t stop thinking about Macy. He was surrounded by his best friends — and still, he’d never felt so alone. “I’m out of here.”
“You’re not going to drive are you?”
“No.” He handed his keys to Luke, who wasn’t drinking because he’d had some problems with alcohol and driving in the past.
In the car, Rico cranked up the music so he wouldn’t have to talk or think anymore. But when they pulled into the driveway at his house, all bets were off.
***
“HI,” MACY SAID when Rico walked in. Her nerves hummed under her skin, her apprehension impossible to contain.
He stood at the door, glanced first at her and then at the set of suitcases sitting in the hallway. Without a word, he walked over, picked up her luggage and carried it down the hall, apparently to the bedroom. She hoped.
She was sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen when he came back.
He stood next to her. “I’ll get us something to drink.”
Hercules wiggled and she let the dog down. Her emotions were still on high frequency and she couldn’t keep what had happened today to herself. “I saw him, Rico. I saw my son.” She hoped she’d see understanding in his eyes. When she didn’t, she said, “His name is David. He’s a beautiful boy. He’s tall and blond.”
His expression somber, he handed her a glass of white wine of indistinguishable quality and she took it gladly, her fingers trembling.
That’s when she noticed how tired Rico looked. Drawn. And she felt partially to blame for pulling him into such a mess. Still, she had to tell him.
She took a sip of wine, moistening her lips with its sweetness. “But…” She cleared the lump in her throat. “Only he isn’t my son. I know that now.” Tears suddenly choked off her words, yet she kept talking because if she didn’t, she’d fall apart. She might anyway. “I know the people who adopted him. Isn’t that ironic? They’re good people. Important people. No wonder my father said it would ruin him if anyone found out.” A fact that meant nothing to her. She didn’t give a damn whether her father was ruined or not — but she did care about her son’s happiness.
“When I saw him, how happy he was, I knew biology didn’t mean anything compared to twelve years of love and caring.” Her voice faltered. “I’m not his mother, Rico, no matter how much I want to be.”
He looked at her, sympathy in his gaze, but he didn’t move to comfort her. “Are you okay with that?”
He continued to look at her, as if trying to figure something out. He seemed distant. Preoccupied.
“What do you want?”
Could she say it? Would he reject her, too? If she didn’t take that chance, she would never know. “I want you, Rico. I want us.”
He looked surprised, then frowned. He glanced around, gesturing with one hand. “Take a good look, Macy. What you see is what you get. This is me. This is how I live.”
“I know,” she said. “What I see is what I want. For as long as you want me.”
Disbelief flickered in his eyes. Then he pulled her roughly into his arms. “Are you sure? Because I want you forever, Macy Capshaw. I want it all.”
His intensity was overwhelming. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
As if she’d said the magic words, he relaxed his embrace, but he didn’t let her go. “I love you, you know.”
She smiled. “I know.”
“And I want to marry you — if you think you can live with a cop who’s got a crazy schedule and who doesn’t make a whole lot of money.”
“I can live with that.” Her breathing deepened. She wanted him so much. In every way. She pulled back a fraction of an inch. “And what you see here is what you get, too. Can you live with a mongrel dog and a workaholic attorney who can’t cook?”
He nodded. “I can manage. But then there’s my family.”
“And mine. I think they cancel each other out.”
They laughed together and for the first time, Macy knew what it felt like to be loved. Rico had gone against his beliefs, told her how to find her child — even though it was wrong. He’d told her because he believed in her. He knew she’d do the right thing. And that meant more than money could ever buy.
Her heart filled with a happiness she hadn’t thought possible.
“I love you, Rico. More than anything.”
And when his mouth met hers, she knew her life had just begun.
THE END
Please turn the page for Jordan’s story in THE SILENT, the third book in the
L.A.P.D. Special Investigations series.
LAPD Special Investigations, Book 3
THE SILENT
From award-winning, nationally bestselling author LINDA STYLE comes THE SILENT, the thrilling and sensual third story in the LAPD Special Investigations series—a novel of romance, suspense, intrigue … and secrets that can kill.
A little girl with a dangerous secret…
Seven-year-old Caitlin is the sole witness to a murder that could put a notorious crime boss behind bars.
A protective mother with a dark past…
Laura Gianni owes Anna Kolnikov her life. After all, if it weren’t for the notorious madam and ex-girlfriend of a mob boss, Laura might still be on the streets of L.A. selling her body to survive. When Anna was murdered, Laura had to remain silent. Even now she can’t tell the sexy detective investigating the case what she knows…because the truth would put her little girl in the crosshairs of a killer.
A cop with an inexplicable obsession…
Jordan St. James has vowed to see Anna Kolnikov’s murderer behind bars. It doesn’t matter that Kolnikov was a prostitute many believed deserved her fate. She was also someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, and someone’s mother, and she deserved better than a bloody death in a dark alley. But the one woman who can help him refuses to do so…even after he offered to protect her. Now she’s on the run with her daughter…and he’s desperate to find them before the killer does.
L.A.P.D. Special Investigations
Giving up is not an option
PROLOGUE
“DADDY WON’T WAKE UP,” Caitlin whimpered.
Laura switched the phone to the other ear and glanced at the clock on the night table. Five-thirty. “It’s still early, sweetheart. He’s probably tired.”
“He told me to wake him when I got up. Only he won’t wake up…and something smells icky.”
Laura sat up in bed. He’d promised! He’d vowed he’d never let their daughter see him like that again.
And she’d believed him. She always did. “Is anyone else there?”
“No. Just me and Daddy. Another man was here when I got up before, but I went back to bed and he’s not here now. Can you come and get me?”
“Sure, sweetie.” Standing, Laura cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder, snatched a pair of jeans from the top of the hamper and wiggled into them. “I’m on my way, but don’t hang up.”
“I hafta go potty.”
“Okay, but then come right back to the phone.” For the first time since the divorce, she was glad her ex-husband lived only a mile from the shelter. She threw on a sweatshirt over her pajama top, shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops and hurried outside to the van.
How could he do this? She climbed inside and started the engine. “One last time,” he’d pleaded. “Tomorrow I’ll be gone. Please let me see my little girl one last time.”
He was going to make a fresh start in a new state, he’d said. There might be more to it, but she hadn’t asked. A change might do him some good.
Despite his flaws, Eddie had been a good father to Caitlin, and Laura’s heart had gone out to the man she’d once loved. She’d be devastated if she had to be away from her child for even a few days. His valiant effort to stay sober for the past year was remarkable and she couldn’t deny his request.
So, why would he relapse now? Maybe he was sick? Maybe he’d been gambling again? His drinking and gambling had always gone hand in hand.
“I’m back, Mommy.”
“Good girl. I’m in the car and I’ll be there in a few minutes. When I get there, I want you to unlock the side door and let me in. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Laura reached the house in record time, parked, bolted from the van and took the steps in one long stride.
The door swung open and Caitlin stood there in her jammies, her strawberry-blond curls all mussed and, though she wasn’t crying, a telltale streak lined her pink cheeks. Laura gathered the four-year-old into a crushing hug and nestled her face in soft, baby-shampoo-scented curls. Edging inside, she shoved the door shut with her backside.
Caitlin wiggled. “Ouch. That squeezing hurts, Mommy.”
“Sorry, sweetie. I’m just happy to see you. Where’s Daddy?”
“Over there.” Caitlin pointed toward the living room.
The interior was wrapped in shadows, broken only by slivers of dawn filtering through the blinds. Laura flipped the switch by the door. Nothing. She tried again and when nothing happened, she glanced up. The light-bulb was missing from the fixture. Damn. With Caitlin still in her arms, she went to the window on her right and opened the blinds.
The gray-pink of sunrise was enough to see by. She glanced down the hall where light shone from a doorway, and setting Caitlin on her feet, Laura gestured toward the bedroom. “Go get your things, punkin. I need to talk to Daddy.”
As Caitlin toddled off, Laura stalked across the room to the couch, hands clenched at her thighs. Eddie was lying on his side, his back to her and his face toward the cushion. An acrid scent assaulted her nostrils. Unable to contain her anger and disappointment, she smacked him on the leg.
“Damn you, Eddie.” She nudged him in the small of his back with her knee, this time a bit harder.
Again, he didn’t move. Odd. Even when he’d been at his worst she could get a grunt out of him. But…he was too still.
Abnormally still.
A terrifying realization hit her.
Her heart pounded against the wall of her chest as she stepped closer, then leaned in to see his face. His eyes were open. A dark stain soaked the pillow under his face. Gasping, she lurched back. Oh, God!
Covering her mouth with one hand, Laura swallowed
back her sudden nausea and glanced toward the bedroom to make sure her daughter hadn’t come out. Think. Do something.
Her hand shook uncontrollably as she reached out to find a pulse at his neck. Nothing. Oh, God! He couldn’t be… Quickly, she felt for the pulse at his wrist. He was cold. His body rigid.
Nine-one-one. She had to call for help. But she just stood there, unable to move. He was dead. Oh, God. Eddie was dead.
Her heart raced triple time, her thoughts just as fast. Was Eddie so depressed about going away that he’d killed himself? No. He wouldn’t do that. And there was no gun she could see. He’d been upbeat when she talked to him last night. He was hopeful about making changes in his life. Most important, he’d never do such a thing with Caitlin there. Caitlin.
Oh, my God. Caitlin said she’d seen someone earlier. Had Eddie’s murderer seen Caitlin? But no…that didn’t make sense. If the person had known she was there…saw her…Caitlin would be—
She bolted for the bedroom. Her little girl thought her father was sleeping. She had no idea he was dead. And she could be in grave danger if anyone knew she’d been there.
“I gots everything,” Caitlin said proudly when Laura appeared in the doorway.
“That’s great. You said you saw a man here earlier. Did you meet him?” Laura hid her trembling hands behind her back and pasted on a smile.
“Uh-uh. I was peeking through the bedroom door ’cause I heard loud voices. Then I went back to bed because it’s not nice to interrupt people.”
Laura breathed a sigh of relief so deep it felt as if her lungs had collapsed. “Did you recognize the man?”
Frowning, Caitlin shook her head. She stretched her arms in the air and yawned. “I’m still tired, Mommy. I want to go home and sleep in my own bed.” She flopped back on the rumpled quilt like a limp noodle.
“We will, sweet pea. In a few minutes. You stay right here while I check for anything you might’ve left in the other rooms.” Halfway out the door, Laura turned. “Stay where you are. Don’t move. Okay?”
