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My Sister's Keeper

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by Curry, Edna




  My Sister’s Keeper

  By Edna Curry

  Copyright 2011 by Edna Curry

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This is a work of fiction. All names and events in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the author, except for short excerpts for reviews.

  Smashwords Edition.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Chapter 1

  Early morning in Las Vegas:

  Red kept an eye on Mr. Jackson as he moved to the poker table in the Las Vegas Top Notch Casino and sat down to play. Mr. Jackson’s pretty companion was registered as ‘Mrs. Jackson,’ though she wasn’t. She wore a low cut long blue dress that sparkled under the lights and showed off her buxom figure well. A diamond necklace and earrings decorated her outfit tonight. On each of the past three days, she’d worn a different set of jewelry. That assured him she’d brought plenty of ice with her. If she wore it regularly, she probably didn’t bother with the hotel safe and kept her jewelry handy in her room. Yep, she was a good target.

  Now she cuddled close, her ample bosom rubbing Mr. Jackson’s arm and her long hair a blonde contrast to his dark suit. He turned and kissed her, running his fingers through her hair and tucking it behind her ear before turning back to place his bet.

  Assured the Jacksons would be busy for a while, Red strolled to the bank of elevators and went up to their suite. According to the register, only those two lived there, so their rooms should be unoccupied now.

  The hallway was empty. He’d cased the location of every security camera and dismantled the ones he couldn’t avoid. Pausing at the Jacksons’ door, he slipped on thin plastic gloves. Using the master keycard he’d stolen from a maid, he stole silently into the suite. A bedroom and bathroom lay on each side of the living room. He moved to one side and searched for the blonde’s cache of jewelry. He saw nothing of value in the bathroom and quietly moved to the bedroom. Filmy nightclothes and underwear strewn across an unmade bed and over a chair told him this bedroom was hers.

  He found what he was looking for in the small safe built into the armoire. The simple lock opened easily and he pocketed the sparkly contents. There was also a billfold. Taking out the wad of cash, he pocketed it and replaced the billfold. No point in having the ID on him. Searching her dresser drawers, he found another small jewelry box under her silk underwear. This held less expensive pieces, but they all added up to easy cash. Such unimaginative hiding places, he thought as he stuffed all the pieces into his pockets.

  Red crossed the living room to the second bed and bath. A toilet flushed, alerting him he wasn’t alone. He froze. Damn. No one was supposed to be here. He was too far from the door to escape. The person was between him and the front door. He couldn’t get out without being seen. He’d have to deal with them. The boss wouldn’t like this complication.

  Red silently flattened himself to the wall beside the bathroom door, and pulled out a gun equipped with a silencer.

  As a man stepped out of the bathroom, Red shot him and caught him as he fell forward. He eased him back into the bathroom and down into the bathtub. His stomach churned at the coppery smell of blood, but he swallowed back the urge to vomit. He checked to be sure the man was dead, and turned to the mirror to make sure no blood stained his clothes. Tucking the gun back under his jacket, he slipped through the living room and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.

  Damn, he’d been careless. The elevator stood open and the young blonde woman he knew as George’s girlfriend stared at him. They’d met a couple of times in George’s suite and had worked together on various jobs for their boss.

  She held a diaper bag in one hand and her baby in a carrier in the other. She gasped as she met his eyes and her face turned white. She recovered enough to send him a nervous smile before the elevator doors closed.

  Red drew a sharp breath as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them into his pocket. She’d recognized him.

  ***

  In a Minneapolis suburb, Candi Lewis lifted her hands from her computer keyboard, rubbed her tired eyes and stood to stretch her stiff muscles.

  She’d come to her grandmother’s house to be alone to finish her novel and had been working since dawn without a break. She definitely needed some coffee. Her stomach growled. Breakfast, too.

  As she walked to Gram’s old fashioned kitchen, the front doorbell rang. She changed course to answer it and opened the door. No one. Hearing a whimper, she dropped her gaze.

  “A baby?” Candi gasped in consternation at the pink blanket wrapped bundle on her porch. “Where did you come from?”

  Wide blue eyes peered back at Candi from a chubby face. Tiny fists waved in the air, as though asking to be picked up. A sturdy baby carrier with a handle held the little one wrapped in a pretty, crocheted blanket. A bulging canvas diaper bag sat beside the cradle.

  Shocked, Candi stepped outside to stare up and down the tree-lined suburban street. Sturdy two story homes with neatly groomed yards stretched along the street. A few cars sat at the curb in front of houses, but no one appeared to claim this baby.

  Was someone playing a joke on her? Hiding? Planning to jump out at her yelling, ‘April Fool?’ No, April first is past.

  She stepped off the porch, checked both sides of the house, but didn’t see anyone. What in the world was going on?

  Candi dashed back to look at the infant again. Probably a girl, since she wore pink. Why here? Why me? I know nothing about babies! Well, almost nothing. She’d babysat as a teen, years ago.

  She shivered in the cool spring breeze. April in Minnesota wasn’t all that warm. The little one shouldn’t be outdoors. As if to agree, the baby screwed up her face and let out a loud wail. Candi jumped at the sound, grabbed the carrier and diaper bag and took them inside her house. At least they’d be warm while she figured this out.

  Should she call 9-1-1? First she had to stop the noise. The baby didn’t look very old, a few months?

  Taking the baby and diaper bag to the big, old-fashioned kitchen, she set the carrier on the sturdy wooden table, the bag on a chair and pulled back the blanket. She picked up the baby, who stopped screaming and looked expectantly at her. The sweet scent of baby powder tickled her nose and the little body felt warm and soft against hers. A wonderful feeling, but she wasn’t cut out for motherhood. She was a loner, an introvert of the first order. That’s what made her good at writing fiction.

  Candi looked back. The expressive little face ringed with black curls reminded her of the baby pictures of herself and her little sister, Jolene. The baby wore a warm one-piece flannel sleeper. She turned her head in a seeking motion and sucked on her fist, still watching Candi.

  “Are you hungry?” Candi laid her into the carrier, hoping she wouldn’t start crying again. She remained quiet, sucking her thumb now.

  Candi rummaged through the blankets, hoping for a note, some answer to this bizarre situation, but found nothing.

  She opened the diaper bag, smiling in relief at the sight of several bottles full of formula. The bag also contained diapers, baby wipes, little sleepers and miscellaneous items and, thank goodness, an
envelope with ‘Candi’ written on it. At last, an explanation. On the other hand, so much for hoping this was a mistake.

  With shaking hands, she opened the envelope and pulled out two sheets of paper. She immediately recognized her sister’s uneven scrawl. Jolene? She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump of loneliness suddenly gripping her. They’d been close as children. All that had ended when Jolene hit her teens. Candi hadn’t seen her younger sister in years, not since she’d dropped out of college and disappeared with a boyfriend, Charles Something or other. Jolene had a baby?

  How had Jolene known she was at Gram’s house? Maybe she talked to Mom. Unfolding the letter, Candi read:

  “Candi, I’m desperate and need your help. It’s not safe for me to keep little Jessica right now. She’s four months old and a good baby.

  Take care of her for me, please! I put formula and stuff in the diaper bag and instructions in with this letter. I’ll call you as soon as I can and will come get Jess when it’s safe.

  Don’t let George take her!!! Love you always. Jolene.”

  George? Candi vaguely remembered in a phone call, her mother had mentioned Jolene had dumped the boy she’d run off with and had a new boyfriend. Because Jolene switched boyfriends frequently, Candi hadn’t paid much attention. Now she wished she’d listened.

  What in the world was Jolene involved in so she couldn’t take care of her baby? Why did this George want to take Jessica?

  Fury surged through Candi at her irresponsible sister. How many times had she bailed out Jolene already? Why was she always the one Jolene turned to and asked to solve her problems? When was her sister going to grow up? She was so tired of getting her out of scrapes. This was the worst one yet.

  What if Candi hadn’t been home to find the baby? What if Jessica had gotten too cold before anyone found her? People died of hypothermia. Or had Jolene hidden somewhere close until Candi answered the doorbell? If so, why hadn’t she stayed to explain things in person?

  Ha. For the obvious reason Jolene had been afraid Candi would say no if she gave her a choice. Candi definitely would have. She didn’t have time for this.

  This prank was so like her scatterbrained sister. “Your mother’s nutty, Sweetie.”

  As if she’d understood her words, baby Jessica’s face crumpled and she started crying again. “For such a little one, you sure make a lot of noise.” Jessie cried harder.

  “Oh, Sweetheart, I’d cry, too, if someone dumped me with somebody I’d never met and ran off,” Candi said, picking up the soft, sweet-smelling baby and cuddling her. Candi recognized the baby powder scent from her babysitting days.

  She unfolded the second sheet of paper in the envelope finding a list of things the baby needed, formula, baby cereal, vitamins, and the sizes of the diapers and clothes she wore. Why had Jolene made this list unless she expected Candi would need these details to buy more supplies?

  Obviously, Jolene didn’t plan to return within the hour.

  Candi’s stomach rolled. Just what she needed, more distractions. Her editor was already impatient for the manuscript Candi had promised to deliver in a few weeks. How was she to work while caring for Jessie? Who still screamed. Now she smelled another scent, not so sweet. Phew. First things first. The baby needed tending before she hunted for answers.

  She carried Jessie and the diaper bag to her bedroom and laid her on the queen sized bed. Jessie seemed to like the attention and stopped crying. Candi changed her diaper, while Jessie kicked and waved her arms, grinning and watching Candi with big blue eyes.

  She carried Jessica and the bag back to the kitchen where she put her in her carrier to free up her hands. The baby whimpered, but stopped when Candi talked to her softly. She put one of the bottles of formula in the microwave to warm and put the extras in the refrigerator.

  Carefully, she took out the bottle and shook some of the milk onto her wrist to test the temperature as she remembered learning to do. Was it too hot? Warm enough? Seemed okay.

  She settled down in her grandmother’s rocking chair and fed Jessie the bottle. Jessie eyed her as she guzzled down the milk, and reached up to pat her face, as though wanting to get to know her. The little girl’s eyes watched her trustingly. Nervously, Candi met her gaze. Could she do this? Did she have a choice?

  The bottle was empty, but Jessie was spitting a bit and squirming. Recalling babies needed burping, Candi put her up on her shoulder and patted her back. Jessie promptly spit some milk up on her blouse.

  Oops. She should’ve put a cloth over her clothes. She definitely had a lot of details to recall before she got back up to speed.

  Jessie snuggled up to her and went to sleep. Now what?

  How soon would Jolene come back? In days? Weeks? Where would the baby sleep in the meantime?

  Candi laid her on the bed and put pillows around her so she wouldn’t roll off. Was Jessie old enough to roll over? God, she was dumb about mothering. She’d better do some research on child care so she didn’t goof up too badly.

  Leaving the door open to hear if Jessie cried, Candi changed into a clean blouse and went back to her office. Her computer’s cursor blinked at her, but she was in no mood to go back to work.

  With all the excitement of the baby, she’d forgotten to eat. She needed coffee and food. Truthfully, she’d like a nap, too. She’d been up since dawn. Ha! She wasn’t likely to get sleep any time soon. She started the coffee and popped some bread into the toaster, then buttered and ate the toast while the coffee dripped through. As soon as it finished, she poured a cup.

  She needed some answers. Sipping her coffee gratefully, she dug out her cell phone and rang her mother, Maggie Lewis in Florida.

  After the usual greetings, she asked, “What have you heard from Jolene lately?”

  “Jolene?” Maggie’s voice grew wary making Candi wonder if she knew Jolene was in another jam. If so, why didn’t Maggie help her out of her problem for a change? Resentment knotted Candi’s gut and her knuckles whitened around the phone. Why was it always her job to help Jolene?

  Maggie continued, “I haven’t heard much. Jolene called a couple of weeks ago, and that was the first time I’d heard from her in almost a year.”

  “Did you tell her I was staying at Grandma’s house?”

  “Um, I may have mentioned it. Did I goof up?”

  Candi sighed in exasperation. “Mom, I told you not to tell people I’m here. I need to work.”

  “Candi!” Her mother scolded indignantly. “Jolene’s not people. She’s family. Anyway, she won’t tell anyone.”

  “Did she give you her address or phone number? Or say where she was living now?”

  “Not exactly. Las Vegas, I think. Yes, I’m sure she said in Las Vegas with a guy named George.”

  “Who is this George? Did she say?”

  “Don’t ask me. Jolene, she never explains much. I gathered he’s older and fairly well-to-do. Why? Have you seen Jolene?” Maggie asked suspiciously.

  “No, but I’d sure like to. She left me a present here this morning, but didn’t stick around to see if I wanted it or not.”

  “A present? Why would she do that?”

  Candi laughed ruefully. “It’s a baby, Mom. Did you know you were a grandmother?”

  “Wha--t? A grandmother? You mean, Jolene has a baby?”

  “Yes. A girl named Jessica. She’s about four months old and asleep on Gram’s bed right now.”

  “But—” Maggie sputtered. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant! Why didn’t she tell me when she called? What in the world is the matter with that girl?”

  “You know Jolene, Mom.”

  “No, she’s paying me back for divorcing her father, that’s all. You two never did forgive me, even after he died.”

  Oh, no, not another guilt trip. Candi closed her eyes in frustration. “Mom, please, let’s not get into that now. We have a problem here.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Maggie said grudgingly.

  “Good. As for Jole
ne, I don’t think she’s grown up much, yet.”

  “That’s for sure. Imagine, Jolene with a baby! For heaven’s sakes. You say she left the baby with you?”

  “Yeah. With no warning, not even a phone call. The doorbell rang, I answered it and no one was there or anywhere around. Just Jessica in a car carrier with a diaper bag full of supplies. Jolene just dumped her on me. And it’s still cold outside here in Minnesota, you know. Honestly!”

  “I don’t believe this.” Maggie sounded doubtful. “You didn’t see Jolene?”

  “No, but I’ll bet she wasn’t far. Someone rang the doorbell. I’ll bet Jolene was nearby. But how could she leave a tiny baby? Jessie’s a cutie, too.”

  “How do you know the baby is Jolene’s? Someone else might have left the baby,” Maggie said, her voice hopeful.

  Candi shook her head and remembered her mother couldn’t see her. “Jolene left a note in the bag explaining, Mom. It’s her handwriting.” Candi read her the note.

  “She doesn’t mention getting married.”

  “No. I suppose that means she isn’t.”

  “I suppose,” Maggie said with a long-suffering sigh. “I wonder what’s really going on. ’Don’t let George take the baby’ sounds rather ominous, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. I hope it doesn’t mean he’s abusive. If he is, it’s a good thing she hasn’t married him.”

  “What do you mean, a good thing?”

  “If they aren’t married, Mom, he doesn’t have as many legal rights to her or the baby.”

  “Oh. I suppose so. But he could still go to court and prove he’s the father. I think you should keep the baby’s whereabouts under your hat for now,” Maggie cautioned. “Just in case he is an abuser.”

  Candi laughed. “Not many people even know I’m here, let alone that I’m babysitting a niece.”

  “Hmm. Should I come and help you? I could take a little time off work.”

 

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