by Rita Herron
What would Megan say if he showed up at her door? Would she want to get to know the real Clayton Fox?
THE PREGNANCY TEST was positive.
Megan toyed with a loose thread on her cotton shirt as she waited inside the doctor’s office, her mind still trying to absorb the fact that she was carrying a baby. A bitter sweetness tingled through her. Tom had wanted a baby so badly yet she had felt like a failure for not conceiving right away.
Yet now she was having another man’s child.
A man she barely knew. A man who had not bothered to phone her the past two weeks.
Dr. Cronan strolled in, thumbing his goatee. He smiled, then took his office chair and folded his hands on the polished cherry desk. “Congratulations, Megan. The blood test confirms the results of your pregnancy test. It’s early on, but I’d say you’re about three weeks along.”
Megan’s heart fluttered at the thought of the tiny life growing inside her. She automatically placed a protective hand over her stomach. “I thought so.”
“I understand your concern about the drugs you were given but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I checked with the lab and the dosage and short time you were under sedation shouldn’t affect the fetus.” He steepled his fingers. “We will of course, want to do amniocentesis when the time is right just to make sure.”
“Of course.” She would pray really hard until then.
A sad smile creased his eyes. “I know how much you and Tom wanted children, Megan.”
She clenched her hands.
Cronan continued, “I’m sorry Tom’s not here to see this.”
Megan’s gaze swung to his. “Actually, Dr. Cronan,” she said in a shaky whisper. “The baby’s not Tom’s.”
And she had no idea how Clayton Fox felt about children.
HIS CONVERSATION WITH BLACK chased Clay all day, sneaking up to attack him at every corner.
What are you going to do about her?
Nothing, had been Clay’s first response.
But night had descended and once again, he headed back to his apartment alone.
The isolation he’d felt when he’d been in the hospital had been very real. Although his partner cared about him, police work had not earned him very many close friends. Or a wife.
And his family was all gone.
Remembering the deaths of his parents had been like losing them all over again.
The despair had mimicked the feelings he’d had in the hospital and caused him to reevaluate his whole life. He was tired of being alone. Tired of cold pizza and an empty bed and even more dismal lonely mornings.
The warmth of Megan’s body still lingered in his mind, so real in fact that several times lately he’d reached out to pull her into his embrace during the night.
Only to wake up and realize that she wasn’t there. He’d grabbed his damn pillow.
He parked his car in front of the brick house of a local breeder. When Megan’s house had been broken into, he’d suggested getting her a dog. She’d mentioned that Tom had been allergic to animals, that he hadn’t liked them.
A dog was one thing he could give her that Tom hadn’t.
Maybe it would be the opening he would need for a fresh start with Megan.
And this time, he’d introduce her to the real Clay Fox. The man who wanted her in his bed and life, forever.
The man who wasn’t her former husband as they’d once thought, but the man who wanted to be her future one.
“THANKS FOR THE CASSEROLE, Connie.”
“It’s not much, Megan, but I wanted you to know I was thinking about you.”
“What about your job? Are you staying on at the center?”
Connie set the chicken dish down on the counter. “Yes. I’m being assigned to Dr. Ferguson. I think it will be a good fit.”
“Great.” Megan gave her a hug. “Kiss your little boy for me.” Her hand went to her stomach again, something she’d been doing all day.
“Are you all right?” Connie asked.
“Yes, don’t worry about me.” I’m fine. I’m having a baby! Megan wanted to shout it to the rafters, but she held back. Until she made a decision about whether or not to tell Clay, she couldn’t spill her guts to everyone else. After all, he was the father and a father had a right to know.
“Is it true that Cole Hunter turned out to be a cop?”
“Yes, his name is Clay Fox. Tom was meeting him to tell him about the memory transplant project the night he died.”
Connie emitted an exasperated sound. “That story is unbelievable.”
Megan laughed, a tension filled sound. Both of them knew the ordeal hadn’t been funny.
“Well, I’m taking off.”
Megan walked her to the door, only to find April parking in the driveway. It must be the night for visitors.
CLAY HANDED THE BREEDER his check and cradled the frisky little golden retriever in his arms as he headed to the car, but his cell phone rang just as he started the engine.
“Clay, it’s Black.”
“What’s up?”
“Listen, I hate to tell you this but this mess isn’t over. Jones was found dead in his jail cell about an hour ago.”
“What?”
“He had one visitor. Logged in as Connie Blalock.”
“Damn.” Clay’s mind raced. “Why the hell would she kill Jones?”
“I don’t know. But I thought you might want to check on Megan.”
“I’m on my way.” Clay hung up, put his siren on top of his car, and took off, mentally reviewing the facts. Connie had been a patient of Tom’s. Had suffered from depression. Had she developed a crush on Tom? Did that silver compact belong to her?
Megan had caught her shredding files. What had been inside there that she didn’t want anyone to see?
He punched in Megan’s number to warn her. He held his breath as he waited. Finally she answered.
“Megan, God, I’m glad you’re there.”
“What’s wrong, Clay?”
“I don’t have time to explain, but have you seen Connie?”
“Yes, she just left. She brought me dinner.”
“Don’t eat the food she brought. We think she may have killed Jones today.”
Megan gasped.
“Just hang on and I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up and took the curve on two wheels. But why would Connie kill Megan?
Because Tom had refused to leave Megan for her?
“I’VE BEEN SO WORRIED ABOUT you.” April pushed inside without an invitation as Megan dropped the phone in its cradle. What was going on? Why would Connie want to hurt her? Or Jones?
April sat down at the kitchen table with a glass of iced tea. Her gaze caught the menagerie of clay pots, bowls and vases Megan had made in her pottery class the last week, and she raised a brow.
“A new hobby,” Megan said.
“Therapy?”
“Something like that.”
“I thought I saw you leaving the center today, but you didn’t come by the psych ward. What were you doing there, Meg?”
Leave it to April not to miss a thing.
“I…” She hesitated and contemplated a lie. But she needed to tell someone other than her doctor and she and April had always been close.
“Are you thinking about coming back to work?”
“No.” She poured herself a glass of tea. “I’m thinking about moving actually.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s too hard to return to the center after all that happened there. There are too many memories.”
“So why did you come today?”
“I had a doctor’s appointment.”
April covered Megan’s hand with hers. “What’s wrong, Meg? Aren’t you feeling well? Have you been depressed?”
“No, not exactly.” Well, she had been depressed before she’d learned about the pregnancy.
“Were you in for a physical?”
“Yes.” The ice clinked in her glass as she sipped her
tea. “Actually, April, I went to the fertility clinic. I’m pregnant.”
A frown pulled at April’s mouth. “Pregnant?”
“Yes.” Megan fought a smile but couldn’t contain it.
April stood, eyes fixed on Megan. “I can’t believe it. I thought you and Tom tried and couldn’t have kids—”
“We were having trouble but the tests never indicated that I couldn’t have children.”
April paced across the room, hugging her purse to her side, looking agitated.
“What’s wrong, April? I thought you’d be happy for me. I may be alone, but I can handle it.”
“You always come out on top, don’t you, Meg?”
Megan shifted, confused by the hint of anger in her friend’s voice. “Things have been difficult lately but I’m trying to look on the positive side. And move on.”
“Are you moving on with that man Hunter?”
Megan gulped. “His real name is Clay Fox.”
“Right, he’s the man responsible for Tom’s death. And for getting Jonesy arrested.”
“Jonesy got himself arrested because he was crazy,” Megan said, disturbed by the change of conversation.
“You… You always get the men, Megan.” April stomped toward her. “I don’t understand it. First Tom fell for you. Head over heels. And he had an attack of conscience because of you. He almost ruined the research project.”
“You knew about it?”
“Jonesy let it spill one night after too many drinks. Then that guy Cole, Clay, whatever his name was. He wasn’t here a day until he was following you around like a sick puppy—”
“April, I—”
“And then Jonesy. He wanted you, too, Megan.” Rage darkened April’s eyes. “Or didn’t you know?”
“No I—”
“He did. He even had the nerve to tell me about it while we were in bed. And after I kept his lies a secret.”
Megan gasped and knocked her glass over. Tea and ice ran down the table. She reached for a cloth to wipe it up, but stopped when she saw April pull a gun from her purse. “My God, April, what are you doing?”
April’s hand shook as she pointed the pistol at Megan. With her free hand, she removed a hypodermic. Megan’s blood ran cold. “He told me he sat outside your house and watched you at night. He wanted you so badly he even broke in one night and watched you sleep. He stole a pair of your panties and used to imagine he was holding you when he’d touch them.” April waved the gun. “Can you believe he told me that while he was having me?”
“The compact? It was yours, wasn’t it?” Megan asked, the truth dawning. And April had shot at her in the car. She had ripped the covers from the bed and slashed them.
A shrill laugh escaped April. “And now you’ve ruined my life with Jonesy.”
“Oh, God.” Megan’s stomach convulsed. She covered it with her hand, praying she could talk some sense into April. She didn’t want to die.
And she didn’t want to lose her baby.
“The fire at the hospital? Did you set that, too?”
“Figured that one out. You just didn’t give up snooping. I thought if I got rid of you, Jonesy would want me.”
“You killed Jones, not Connie? Because he wanted me.” The magnitude of April’s deception dawned. “And you killed Daryl Boyd?”
“Stupid man was part of the experiment, nothing but a prisoner, only he forgot he’d volunteered to join the project.”
“Boyd was Harry Fontaine?”
“Yep.” April hissed a breath and waved the hypodermic. “We couldn’t believe it when he freaked over seeing Cole.”
“He saw him on Nighthawk Island.”
April nodded, her eyes crazed. “And that little wimp of a secretary didn’t know I even took her ID. Now, I’ll get rid of you, inject that stupid casserole with the same drug I gave Jones and Boyd, and Connie gets the blame.”
“You need help, April.” Panic raced in Megan’s chest, but she had to stall. Clay was on his way.
A nasty leer lit April’s face. “I need help? You’re the one about to die, Meg. With you out of the way, maybe the men will finally notice me.”
Megan squirmed. She would not let April drug her again and hurt her baby.
“Don’t fight it and you’ll go peacefully.” April stalked toward her, her footsteps clicking on the floor, measured and ominous.
Megan frantically searched for something to protect herself and backed against the stove. “You can’t do this, April. We were friends. Think about my baby.”
“You can’t have Tom’s baby.” In a fit of rage, April raked an arm across the counter and swept the clay pots off the counter. They hit the floor, flying, then crashed and shattered into pieces. April laughed at the mess, then lunged toward Megan.
Megan grabbed the teakettle, swung it up and flung the hot water. April yelped and fired the gun. Shots rang through the air. Megan screamed and jumped aside, ducking the spray of bullets.
Chapter Twenty
Cole’s heart thundered at the sound of gunfire. Then Megan’s cry.
He quickly roped the puppy to the front porch rail and charged into the house, his weapon drawn. Night shadows hugged the wall, but the den was empty.
Scuffling noises echoed from the kitchen.
He eased around the corner.
Megan and April—not Connie—were sprawled on the floor, grappling for a gun.
“Don’t move. Police.”
His quiet command brought both women to a halt. Megan’s face filled with relief, April’s fury. April reached for the .22 but he cut her off and kicked it out of reach. “I told you not to move.”
With a low cry of anger, April rolled to a sitting position and leered at Megan. Clay motioned to Megan. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Megan said in a shaky voice.
“Then call the police. I’ll watch your friend.”
Megan nodded and stood, moving away from April with caution, then grabbed the phone. Within minutes, the Savannah Police had arrived, Adam Black in the lead.
“What the hell’s going on here now?” Black asked.
“Apparently my best friend wasn’t my friend at all,” Megan explained, trembling.
“So, it wasn’t Connie?” Black asked.
“No.”
Clay winced at the pain in her voice. Megan had been hurt so many times. Black seemed to detect the same and gestured to Clay to take care of her.
“I’ll lock this one up.” Detective Black escorted an angry April out the door.
Clay felt Megan shaking as he pulled her into his arms.
Or maybe he was the one shaking.
“God, Megan, I damned near had a heart attack when I heard that gun go off. I thought I’d lost you for sure.”
Megan had curled into his arms, but she pulled back slightly and looked up into his eyes. He saw the surprise and something else—hope? Was she glad to see him?
He ran a hand over her shimmering blond hair, over the soft skin of her cheek, then the slight tilt of her nose.
“I’m glad you’re here, Clay.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I missed you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” And he’d brought her a present. But he wasn’t ready to release her just yet to retrieve it.
She narrowed her eyes. “You missed me because of Tom’s memories?”
He brushed a kiss along her temple. “No, because of mine.”
She met his gaze. “You don’t have amnesia anymore?”
“No,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I hope you can forgive me for my part in Tom’s death.” He searched her face, looking for absolution, for any trace that she had feelings for him.
“I don’t blame you, Clay. Tom died because he crossed the line. He never should have gotten involved in those projects.” She licked her dry lips. “I thought you blamed Tom and me for what you went through.”
“Never.” Relief surged through him. He kissed her fingers, then pressed her hand against
his chest. “Tom’s memories of you may have brought us together, Megan. But my memories of you brought me back. And the ones we make together will keep us together if you let them.”
Megan stared at Clay in surprise. Happiness mingled with love welled inside her. She could hardly believe she’d almost died at the hands of a friend a few minutes earlier, and now Clay was here, looking at her with love in his eyes. The kind of love that she’d only dreamt about.
A sly smile curved his lips as he dropped to his knees and cradled her hand in his. “I love you, Megan. Not because of Tom’s memories, but because of mine. Ours. I know it’s soon, and if you want to wait a while, until you get to know the real Clay Fox, I understand. But…will you marry me?”
Tears trickled down Megan’s cheeks, her heart racing.
He sucked in a shaky breath, and she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. Didn’t he know how she felt about him?
“I love you, too, Clay.” But she knew about the baby and he didn’t. Or did he? Could he somehow have found out and now he felt obligated? “Are you sure you want marriage?”
“Yes.” A smile enveloped his face. “And a family and the whole works.”
The slow tingle of joy spread through Megan. Until that moment, she hadn’t known if what they had shared had been real. If his feelings were real. Now, the sexual tension, the emotional bond; it couldn’t be more real.
She dropped to her knees in front of him, framed his face in her hands and kissed him, full and long. He responded with the fiery passion she had only known at his hands. “I would love to marry you, Clayton Fox.”
He rained kisses up and down her face and neck, his throaty whisper erotic. “I could take you right here on the floor.”
Megan chuckled. “I could let you, too.”
A scratching sound outside filtered through her joy. Megan startled. Would she forever be jumping at any little noise? “What was that?”
“Oh, my gosh. I forgot—”
She grabbed his hand as he started to stand. She wasn’t ready for him to leave her yet. Maybe never. “It’s okay, Clay, I don’t need a ring.”
