Deeper Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 2)

by Vickie McKeehan

  Baylee shook her head. “You said it yourself about Collin. When you have enough money to buy a third world country, you aren’t going to do jail time—for anything. Look at what Collin did to you last night, kidnapped you right out of your own house. Is he sitting in jail this morning for kidnapping? No, he’s not. His family’s already bailed him out. He’s back at the Enclave, probably lounging at the beach, working on his tan. My guess is Collin won’t spend a day in jail for what he did to you.”

  She spared a glance at Jake who’d gone a little white at the reality of that.

  “And what would I have told the police about that night, Kit? What details would I have shared with them? That I left a party on my own woke up the next morning in a strange hotel room, not able to remember anything about what had happened. Connor was right, who would have believed me? It was my word against his.

  “It’s true; I knew what they were like. I’d seen how violent Collin was with you a year earlier. I knew Cade’s history with Quinn. But the only thing I did wrong was trust Connor to bring me that stupid drink. There was something in that drink, Kit. I’m convinced of it. When I thought about it later, the champagne tasted too salty, too bitter. He’d spiked it with something.”

  “I’m sure he did. He probably used that date rape drug, what’s it called… “

  But it was a furious Dylan who spoke up. “Probably Rohypnol, also used to enhance the effects of cocaine, or maybe GHB. Gamma Hydroxybutyric, commonly known as liquid ecstasy. In a safe dosage both have minimal effects. But if you bump up the dosage of either one, add alcohol to the mix, either drug can induce a deep sleep and it’s difficult to remember anything. In extreme cases a person might not even wake up at all. You’re lucky you did, Baylee.”

  Hearing that only made Kit’s blood boil more. But for Baylee’s sake she tabled her anger and concentrated on her friend. “You had no way of knowing he’d do that to you, Baylee. Stop blaming yourself. I’m so sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I should have known better.”

  “But the point is I wasn’t thinking straight, Kit. I got out of that room and couldn’t get back home fast enough. During those six weeks, I had myself tested for STDs half a dozen times before I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t go to the police, didn’t say anything to anyone, and kept what happened to myself.”

  Wringing her hands, pacing back and forth, Baylee went on, “He kept calling me for a month after it happened just to threaten me, remind me not to say anything. He doesn’t know about Sarah. On her birth certificate I listed her father as unknown.”

  Baylee’s eyes darted to the men, shame filled her. But she couldn’t deal with that now. There were other more important aspects to point out now. “And that was before I ever knew anything about what Alana did to Gloria, her own sister, before I knew what part Jessica played in taking you away from your birth mother. I’ve been scared to death ever since I found out what they did to Gloria.”

  “Oh Baylee. I’m so sorry. What a burden this must have been for you to carry around all this time. No wonder you left L.A. Where did you go, anyway? Quinn and I were worried sick about you.”

  Shaken, Baylee closed her eyes. “Do you remember Blair Rafferty from college? She lives in Denver now. We still keep in touch.” Her shoulders slumped.

  “I didn’t know where else to go. The only reason I came back at all was because Dad got sick.” She looked Kit directly in the eye, shook her head, and said sadly, “If it hadn’t been for that, I wouldn’t have come back at all. When Tanya called me about Dad, told me about the brain tumor, I felt guilty that I wasn’t here for him. Like an idiot, I thought enough time had passed and Connor wouldn’t give me a second thought.

  “But that day Collin stopped by, that day he was looking for you, Collin must have said something to Connor. I should have left then. I’ve been so terrified he’d find out about Sarah, want visitation rights or custody. The fear’s only gotten worse knowing what Jessica did to take you away from Gloria all those years ago.”

  “Jessica’s dead. She won’t be taking another baby away from its mother.” There was some satisfaction in that Kit thought gamely.

  “I’m not worried about. But she taught those sons of hers every trick she knew. And with all that talk the other night at Gloria’s about how they have a habit of producing false documentation in court, I’m scared Connor might do something devious like that to get Sarah. I won’t let him near her. Ever. You all need to understand that right now.”

  Her voice grew sharper laced with steely determination when she emphasized, “He can’t find out about Sarah. I don’t want that man around Sarah, not for any reason. I can’t share custody. I won’t. It’s that simple. I can’t handle that.”

  She finally looked at each one of them, her blue eyes piercing, making sure each of them understood. “I’ll do anything. I’ll live in Alaska; I’ll live in Mexico; I’ll go to the ends of the earth before I’ll let Connor Boyd anywhere near my daughter. He may be her sperm donor, but that’s all he is. He isn’t father material. He’s violent and he’s mean. I don’t want that for Sarah. I grew up with an alcoholic, a verbally abusive man, a man who refused to let go of the past. I won’t allow Sarah to grow up like that in an explosive, volatile environment. Ever.”

  Tears welled up in Kit’s eyes as she took both of Baylee’s hands in hers. “Baylee, I promise you I’ll take you to the ends of the earth myself before I let that bastard get anywhere near Sarah. I’m sorry I talked you into staying in L.A. I should have let you leave. But I didn’t know the circumstances then. If you’d just told me what was going on, I would have driven you out of town myself.”

  Hearing that, Baylee broke down again.

  Jake and Dylan exchanged looks across the table. Dylan wasn’t sure what Jake was thinking or feeling, but he knew he felt like hitting something. He wouldn’t mind landing a couple of blows on that smug bastard’s face. After two seconds contemplating Connor’s demise, he pulled himself together enough to ask, “So he doesn’t suspect a thing about Sarah, right Baylee?”

  Baylee dried her cheeks with her fingertips, shook her head. “No. That’s why I wanted you to take Sarah out of here, take her to Kit. But I don’t know how much longer I can keep her a secret. If he finds out…I’m afraid he’ll fight me for custody or something. Sharing custody of my daughter with a rapist is not an option.”

  “But as long as he thinks he’s gotten away with it, as long as we keep Sarah’s existence unknown to him, you’re okay, she’s okay. Right? You don’t have to make a mass exodus out of town.”

  Jake turned to Dylan. “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, it’s like this. If Baylee needs to disappear with Sarah for a while, make it look like maybe she’s living with someone else, Boyd wouldn’t have a reason to come looking for her in my direction. He doesn’t even know I exist. He may be able to track credit card receipts, a money trail if she’s on the run in some other city, but he can’t track what doesn’t exist. If she lays low at my place, until the son of a bitch gets tired of looking for her, or maybe like I said just thinks he’s gotten away with it, he’ll go on with his life and leave her alone.”

  “I couldn’t move in with you. I couldn’t ask you to do that. Sarah’s a great baby, but she’s teething, and she cries, and she isn’t sleeping through the night yet. Besides, I’ve just settled into Gloria’s little cottage. I can’t keep moving around once a month. Oh God, I just said I’d do anything, didn’t I, to keep Connor from finding out about her? I need to sit down.”

  With that Baylee dropped into the nearest chair.

  Kit grabbed Baylee’s hand. “No, listen to him, Baylee; it isn’t such a bad idea. You’re planning on leaving anyway, right? So, why not hide out locally? We’ll see to it that there isn’t any money trail he can follow, no credit card receipts to track. Keep your Range Rover parked at Gloria’s guest house as if you’re still there. If he comes looking for you there, Gloria can stall him, let us know he’s looki
ng. And if he comes back here, he won’t find you. This time we’re the ones who’ll be keeping tabs on him.”

  Kit turned to Jake. “What about that private investigator, Jordan Donovan, you hired to look into Alana’s murder? Since I’m no longer the main suspect, he could keep tabs on Connor. This is more important.”

  “Hell, if that’s what it takes to keep the two of you safe I’ll hire a whole team of investigators to keep an eye on all three of those bastards.”

  But Dylan wanted Baylee back on track. “Look, worst-case scenario, he finds you at my place. He sees Sarah. It’ll look like you’re living with me, that we’re together. I could claim to be Sarah’s father then. To prove otherwise, he’ll have to get a court order for DNA. That will take some time. Even if he were to use the Boyd influence with a judge, it still takes time to get the results. Being with me will buy us some time, Baylee, until we figure something else out. By that time, if we have to, we’ll smuggle you and Sarah out of the country.”

  Baylee sniffed. “But I can’t keep hiding. He’ll find me again and again. He said so. He won’t give up. And why would you do something like that, Dylan? You don’t even know me.”

  “Because I don’t want the bastard getting his hands on Sarah any more than you do.” Dylan wasn’t even thinking about what he was offering. His heart seemed to be leading his mouth down a perilous road. But the idea of Connor getting anywhere near that baby or near Baylee made him sick to his stomach. It was plain as day for anyone to see the man was a ticking time bomb. Plus, he had cold, violent eyes.

  “Is this what my life will be like from now on, looking over my shoulder until he…until he finds out about Sarah? And then what? What happens then? Hiding out at Dylan’s isn’t the answer. I should leave town, maybe head to Europe.”

  But Dylan wasn’t convinced. “And what makes you think he wouldn’t find you wherever you go Baylee, with no friends around for support? You’d be alone in a foreign country and he might track you down anyway. Think about it, it isn’t so much about hiding as it is about giving him the impression, the illusion that you’re with someone else, someone that could just as easily be Sarah’s father.”

  He stopped long enough to get up and pace. “The bogus idea works if he sees you with me. We give him the impression we’re a couple with a kid. If we pull it off, we give him no reason to suspect Sarah is his, but rather mine. Think about it. He’d be less inclined to go digging around if he thinks the baby belongs to someone else. That someone might as well be me.”

  Kit put her arms around Baylee. “Think about it Baylee, you can’t keep running every few months with a baby. This way, you won’t have to leave town and you’ll be around the people who love you. Dylan’s right. You won’t really be hiding out, more like hanging out at Dylan’s place for a while. And you can’t work at the Book & Bean now that he knows you’re here.”

  “But I want to work. I have to. I’ll go crazy sitting around worrying.”

  “Then Jake and I will figure something out, work on a way to get you and Sarah safely back and forth from Dylan’s every day. But until we do, you’re on vacation.”

  Jake got to his feet, slapped his friend on the back. “That’s not a bad plan, Dyl. Way to go.”

  Dylan blew out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, the look on Baylee’s face tells me the plan is sheer genius. It would appear that we’d be living together, Baylee, but we wouldn’t. Understand? You and Sarah would have your own rooms, your own space. It’s a temporary fix. For now it gets you out of Gloria’s guest house—a place he knows about—and into a place he doesn’t know exists. I’ve got the space. We can move you in tonight.”

  Dylan’s Pacific Palisades beach bungalow had been built decades earlier, but the upgrades he’d put into it just a couple of years ago, like new cabinets and modern appliances in the kitchen and new plumbing in both bathrooms, made a huge difference in the comfort of the mid-century house.

  The place wasn’t overly big, but then a single guy with a demanding job didn’t need much room when he spent most of his downtime at the beach, swimming, surfing or playing volleyball. He liked his little house that backed up against the Pacific Ocean, where he could play on the surf on the weekends if he wanted, roller blade with the neighborhood kids, or just walk out his back door in the evening to watch the sunset or the waves on the water.

  He had a fifteen-mile commute through the canyons to work in Westlake Village, a commute that sometimes might take as long as forty-five minutes to an hour depending on the traffic, which he utilized well enough by listening to his favorite CDs. On the days the trip grew wearisome, he’d remind himself how much he loved waking up to the sound of the surf, and somehow the amount of time he had to spend in the car didn’t seem so bad.

  As he wandered from the kitchen to the living room, making sure the doors were locked, something that was definitely out of the ordinary for him to do, Dylan considered how much his life had changed in the span of a few hours.

  She was here in his house, a mother with a baby.

  He couldn’t help wondering what in the world had made him offer Baylee a place to stay. He was a nice enough guy, a man his friends could count on when the going got tough, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d known how much work a baby could be from his sister’s kid, who was just about ready to turn the big one. Even though the little guy was a real cutie, the baby took a lot of effort and commitment.

  What in the world had he been thinking?

  But then, one look at Baylee’s face, one look into those aqua eyes, had answered that question in a heartbeat. He was starting to wonder what was wrong with him. He hadn’t gone all in over a woman since Sherry Ann Connelly in his freshman year of high school. And that probably had more to do with pheromones and the fact that he’d just discovered firsthand what caused Sherry Ann’s cheerleader uniform to poke out so nicely, rather than the depth of his fourteen-year-old infatuation.

  But Baylee had him feeling—different. It had been that way from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her standing in that hospital waiting room, surrounded by at least fifty other people crowded in around them. Throw in the fact that she’d been standing there holding a baby, a fact that hadn’t deterred him in the least, and he knew for certain this was unlike the way he’d felt about anyone else.

  Right now, she slept right down the hallway, steps away from where he stood.

  Earlier that evening, he and Jake had gone back to Gloria’s guest cottage, parked her Range Rover in the driveway, and switched the car seat to Jake’s boxy G500 Benz, before loading both of their belongings inside.

  For a woman who had been raised in Beverly Hills, the daughter of William Scott, one of the most successful action-film directors in Hollywood, Baylee didn’t seem to have all that much stuff. Her clothes had barely taken up half a small closet. This was a fact Dylan had a hard time understanding. He was hardly an expert on women, but the one thing he knew for sure was that most women collected clothes and shoes and accessories, those little baubles that rounded out the outfit, like prized art. At least the women he’d known did, and that included his mother and sister.

  But what Baylee lacked in material possessions for herself, the baby made up for twofold. Sarah seemed to have every baby gadget available on the market, everything from an infant carrier, a state-of-the-art car seat, a swing that played music, a fancy stroller, a high chair, right down to a very classy, cherry wood baby bed, which had taken him almost a damn hour to put together. And if it hadn’t been for Jake’s help, he would have had a bitch of a time trying to install the high-tech car seat into the backseat of his vehicle.

  But despite having second thoughts for the better part of the evening, the move had gone fairly smoothly. Sarah was fast asleep.

  All seemed quiet on the western front.

  As he turned out the living room light and headed to bed, he passed by the hall bathroom. And came to an abrupt stop.

  He backed up a few steps when he thought he heard soft weeping coming
from inside. He waited several long minutes listening at the door to see if she settled down. When it didn’t seem like that was going to happen any time soon, he knocked lightly on the wood. “You okay in there?” He heard a low moan, and then serious sniffing, before he heard Baylee blowing her nose. Then silence. Then the crying started up again.

  “Baylee, can I come in?”

  He heard her groan again and the crying grew even louder.

  He cracked open the door an inch, just in case she wasn’t decent. But she was wearing a low-rise pair of purple flannel pajamas with a black-and-white dog pattern design that looked a lot like mini Snoopy characters. He got an eyeful of skin and belly button as the wild-eyed woman sat on the lid of the toilet, clutching a very thin roll of toilet paper in her hand as if the cardboard cylinder were her only lifeline. A pile of used, wadded up tissue several inches deep covered her feet.

  Step carefully into this quagmire, Dylan thought, as he made a tentative move further inside the small space. “What’s wrong, Baylee?”

  She blew her nose again. “I…I…I’m such a ter-rible mo-ther.”

  That was the last thing he expected her to say. Dylan took a cautious step further into the room, went over, and sat down on the ledge of the bathtub, letting his hands drape from his knees.

  “Now why would you say something like that?”

  “You. Don’t. Know. Me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But from what I’ve seen I think you’re a good mom.”

  “Oh no. No, I…I’m absolutely hor-rible.” She sobbed louder.

  He hadn’t considered when he’d offered her a place to stay that he’d be sharing his house with a hysterical female. But he needed to say or do something now; he just wasn’t sure what. He scratched the side of his face, thinking. Finally, he decided on the direct approach. “Okay, tell me why you’re so horrible.”

  “Since Sarah…was born, since she got here, I…I…I’ve moved…a lot. I can’t seem to stop moving.”