Sloane Monroe 06-Hush Now Baby

by Bradshaw, Cheryl

  “Wanna tell me what’s botherin’ you?”

  Not really. I had a feeling I was about to anyway, but I thought I’d try a more evasive approach first.

  “If you’re thinking I’m upset about your ex-wife showing up, I’m not,” I said.

  “Well, somethin’s wrong. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just keep guessin’ what it is. I know you like to keep things to yourself. You’re a proud woman. Keepin’ things quiet doesn’t just affect you though, it affects everyone around you.”

  He was right, of course. And I knew it. I’d always known.

  “I’ve been thinking about Finn, wondering where he might be, hoping we still have a chance to bring him back to Jack alive. No matter what else is going on right now, that boy is my priority. Our priority. Everything else can wait.”

  It wasn’t what he expected me to say. The answer was safe. It was also true. It just wasn’t the only thing on my mind.

  “We’ll find him,” he said. “I know we will.”

  I’d successfully diverted. I was in the safe zone. The topic could have ended right there, if only my true feelings, the ones stowed deep inside my soul, hadn’t bubbled over. I had no choice, no control, which wasn’t like me. I switched gears.

  “I get the feeling Wendy wants to be part of your life again.”

  His playful smile let me know he knew there was more I wanted to say.

  “Don’t matter. It’s too late.”

  “What if she wants to see Shelby? Will you allow it?”

  “Shelby’s almost a grown woman. I’ll tell her the truth about what happened today. Let her decide.”

  Even so, he was worried. I could tell.

  “Wendy’s … different than I expected,” I said.

  “I almost didn’t recognize her myself. She used to be—I don’t quite know the right word—softer, I guess. Now she’s looks rough, like she’s aged ten years in the three since I saw her last.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “Who knows? The guy she took off with—he’s the possessive, dominating type. I imagine she spent most of her time tryin’ to live up to his unrealistic expectations. And now he’s either thrown her out and she’s been replaced, or she ran. Hard to tell. Either way, not my problem. I’m not some fallback she can run to after everything’s gone wrong. She made her choice.”

  “Was she really friends with Serena?” I asked.

  “A long time ago. Serena never said anything to me about stayin’ in touch over the years. Guess it’s possible.”

  “What about your family?”

  Admit it or not, I knew I was pushing the “nosy” boundary. I didn’t care.

  “She’s never been close to anyone in my immediate family. When we married, they accepted her, included her, did whatever they could to help her fit in. In the end, she did everything she could to push them all away.”

  “I wonder if anyone else knows she’s here,” I said.

  “Doubt it. She’s not welcome, and if she tries to stay, she’ll learn a harsh lesson real quick.”

  “If Wendy wants to be a part of Shelby’s life now, and Shelby agrees, what will you—”

  “Not gonna happen, Sloane. Wendy lives for one person and one person only. Herself. As for her intentions with me, I may forgive, I may even try to forget, but I’ll never go back. What’s done is done. She has no place in my life now.”

  He glanced out the window, a wide grin on his face like he was curbing an unquenchable desire to burst out laughing.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I saw what you did earlier, stickin’ your foot out there so she’d trip over it.”

  I pulled on the truck’s handle, hopped out, looked away so he wouldn’t catch me reliving the glorious moment yet again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I can’t help it if the woman didn’t watch where she was stepping.”

  He tipped his cowboy hat toward me, winked. “If you say so.”

  CHAPTER 16

  While Cade spoke to Renee in the waiting area, I found Hannah’s room. An older man who looked to be somewhere in the almost-fifty range hunched over Hannah’s bed, spewing sentences at such a rapid rate, even I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. He enunciated some of his words more than the others, allowing me to catch bits and pieces here and there:

  “How could you embarrass your mother and embarrass me …”

  “No daughter of mine …”

  “After all we’ve done …”

  “You’re nothing but a selfish, stupid …”

  A crippling look of fear and helplessness was reflected on Hannah’s innocent face. Her head remained upright, unmoved. Her eyes shifted toward me as the word “bitch” rolled off the man’s tongue.

  For me, it was an “oh, hell no” moment. I’d heard enough. I knocked on the wall inside the room to get the man’s attention. “Excuse me.”

  The man stopped midsentence, circled his body around, faced me. His head was round and perfect, like a plate that had been molded by hand. His eyes were something else entirely. They were narrow and cruel, devoid of compassion.

  On the opposite side of the room, a feeble-looking woman sat in a chair, her eyes fastened on her hands loosely placed on her lap. She swayed, rocking back and forth like she was in a trance. She stopped for a moment, wiped the clear moisture that dripped from one of her eyes, and went back to rocking again.

  The man stood, all five-foot-nothing inches of him, feet shoulder-width apart, fists clenched in front of him like he was the goalie and I was the puck.

  Let the sparring begin.

  “And you are?” he growled.

  “Do you always speak to your daughter that way?” I asked.

  “Do you always get involved in issues that aren’t your business?”

  I advanced to Hannah’s bed, set a vase of pastel daisies on a nightstand. The level of discomfort he displayed—in the form of wild, flailing hand gestures—heightened once I reached her.

  No matter.

  He didn’t intimidate me.

  He infuriated me.

  Big difference.

  “I came by to see how you’re doing,” I said to Hannah. “Cade’s here too. He just stopped in the lobby for a minute to talk to your aunt.”

  “I’m fine,” she whispered.

  She wasn’t fine. She was terrified.

  “Who are you, and why are you here?” the man demanded. “What’s your angle?”

  “My angle?”

  “Whoever you are, it’s not possible you know my daughter well. If you did, I’d know you. So don’t waltz in here pretending like you care for her wellbeing.”

  “You don’t know me. So don’t pretend you know who I am or how I feel.”

  The man yanked on my wrist, an obvious lapse in judgment. “If you need something, you can address me, not her.”

  I wrenched my wrist free of his sweaty grip, issued a warning. “Don’t ever lay a hand on me again.”

  My words fell flat, meant nothing. I didn’t expect them to. The way he verbally attacked Hannah coupled with the obvious fear displayed from the woman I assumed was his wife—he didn’t just demean women, he didn’t respect them either.

  “I’m Hannah’s father, Aaron. What is it you think you need from my daughter? I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”

  “I’m not here to see you, and I’m not here to talk with you, either. What I came to say is for Hannah’s benefit, not yours. So if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Since I’m Hannah’s parent and you’re not, whatever you came to say is my business.”

  “Is Hannah incapable of speaking for herself?” I turned to the woman. “And you—do you ever stand up for your daughter, or do you do what you’re doing now and let her fend for herself?”

  The woman’s eyes bulged.

  “Now wait just a—” the man started.

  I held a finger in the air, stopping him. I turned toward Hannah. “If there’s anything you need, even if you j
ust want to talk, I want you to call me. Anytime, day or night. Okay?” Knowing where my number would end up if I gave it to her in front of her father, I added, “Your aunt knows how to reach me.”

  “I’m … umm … fine.”

  She was like a wind-up toy. Turn the dial and hear the same prerecorded words, over and over again. I didn’t want to leave her, but since I was a few seconds away from being escorted from the room, I knew I couldn’t stay.

  I leaned in close, talked in her ear. “I have a few errands to run. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

  “No,” Hannah begged. “Please don’t.”

  I entwined her hand in mine. “I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. She looked at her father then at me. “No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

  “What’s that, Hannah?” Aaron demanded. “What are you saying to this woman?”

  “Nothing,” I responded. “She didn’t say anything.”

  “Your name,” Aaron demanded. “You haven’t given it to me.”

  I crossed in front of him, stopped at the door. “If I felt like giving it to you, I would have.”

  I left the room, keenly aware of the weighty thud of Aaron’s footsteps trailing behind, waiting to get me into the hall so he could threaten me, or worse. The movement stopped when I walked out, saw Cade waiting in the hallway. Apparently dominating women was more Aaron’s style. Men were another story.

  “How’s she doing?” Cade asked.

  I cast my eyes toward Hannah’s room, watched Aaron slink back inside.

  I steered Cade the opposite way. “Where’s Renee?”

  “She hasn’t left the waiting room. Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Everything.”

  I charged down the hall, surveyed the groups of people, sitting, waiting to be called. I pinpointed Renee, her eyes glued to a page in a book. I took hold of her arm, yanking her out of the raggedy chair she sat in.

  “What is it?” she asked. “What’s happened?”

  “We need to talk. Now.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “What the hell is going on, Renee?!” I snapped.

  A mother sitting beside two young teens flashed me a disparaging look. I mouthed a sincere “oops, sorry” in her direction. If I was going to vent, we needed privacy.

  “Let’s meet back at your house,” I said. “We can talk there.”

  She sat, stone-faced, fingers massaging her temples. “No … please.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to leave Hannah. I can’t leave her—not right now.”

  “Stay or go,” I said. “Either way, you better start talking.”

  “What am I missin’?” Cade cut in. “What’s happened?”

  I looked at Renee. “Do you want to tell him or shall I?”

  She bent down, rested her elbows on her pant legs. “Not here.”

  The three of us regrouped in a darkened room in an unused wing of the hospital.

  “I can’t stay long,” Renee said.

  “I agree,” I said. “Hannah needs to be protected. Why aren’t you with her now?”

  “Aaron won’t let me anywhere near her. Not after what I…”

  I gave her a moment to recover, to finish what she intended to say. The words dissolved, evaporating into the air around us.

  “Her parents didn’t know she was pregnant, did they?” I asked.

  “I hid it from them, it’s true.”

  “How’s that even possible?” I asked. “She can’t be more than a size three.”

  Renee straddled a chair, pulled on her shirt several times like she was trying to fan herself off. “Last year Hannah came to stay with me for part of her summer break. While she was here, she met Daniel, the baby’s father. They dated for a while. She left, returned to Idaho to finish her senior year of high school. Around Thanksgiving, Aaron decided he wanted to spend the holiday on a cruise ship instead of celebrating with family. He sent Hannah to my house while they were away.”

  “I’m guessing that’s when Hannah rekindled things with Daniel and got pregnant,” I said.

  Cade shook his head, his face grim, disgusted, most likely thinking of how he’d feel if it had been his own daughter.

  “You’re right,” Renee said. “She did get pregnant. I didn’t even know she’d slept with the guy until late one night in January. Hannah called me. She was frantic. She’d taken three pregnancy tests. All of them positive, with a big, pink plus sign.”

  “So the two of you came up with a plan that didn’t involve telling her parents.”

  “You don’t get the point.”

  “Oh, I believe I do,” I said. “And I’m not blaming you. I’ve just met Aaron, and I can see why you did it. But you should have explained everything to me when we were at your house last night.”

  “What difference does it make now? You’re looking for Hannah’s baby. I don’t see what your investigation has to do with the choice we made.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But what if you’re wrong?”

  “I don’t see how I could be.”

  “Only three percent of children under the age of five are killed at the hand of a stranger. The other ninety-seven percent are fathers, mothers, relatives, and acquaintances. Bottom line—in a case like this, it almost always comes back to someone who knew the child. And guess what? Since this was a semi-open adoption, with exception to Jack and Serena and their family, most people didn’t know. That fact alone narrows the potential suspect field quite a bit, wouldn’t you say?”

  “My brother didn’t do it. He wasn’t aware the baby existed.”

  “How can you be sure?” I questioned. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man that lets things slip by him.”

  “If you would have been around today when he found out, you would have seen the genuine shock on his face. All he’s done since he arrived is tear her apart, interrogate her. He demanded to know why Hannah hadn’t aborted the baby when she had the chance. He wouldn’t have wanted her to keep it, he would have wanted her to get rid of it. He’s glad the child’s gone.”

  “You said he interrogated Hannah. About what?”

  “The names of anyone who knew about the baby.”

  “Why does it matter so much to him?” I asked. “The baby isn’t part of her life anymore.”

  “There’s nothing my brother values more than his reputation.”

  “Meaning he’d go to any lengths to protect it,” I said.

  “Not by stealing a baby. He doesn’t kill, he controls … everything. Hannah was suffocating under his roof. Part of me thinks she even planned the pregnancy.”

  “Why? What was she hoping to achieve?”

  “She wanted to run away, disown her parents, and raise the baby on her own. It took months for me to talk her out of it. Finally, I convinced her to think of the child, to put the child’s needs above her own. Moving here, with me, getting her first shot of freedom, real freedom, I didn’t want her to drop out of college and forsake a life she hadn’t even started.”

  Cade leaned forward, reclined his arms on his knees. “So, how did it work—your plan?”

  “Hannah continued to live at home with her parents. She hid the pregnancy until she finished her senior year.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked.

  “Baggy shirts mostly, hoodies. Even when she was nine months along, she wasn’t very big.”

  “And you’re telling us no one noticed?”

  “Hannah’s always dressed that way, so it wasn’t much of a red flag. Aaron was too preoccupied with his own life, and Ann is so timid. Even if she thought twice about it, I doubt she would have said anything. She’s not a ‘rock the boat’ kind of person.”

  She wasn’t a person at all. She was an obedient robot.

  “What about Hannah’s friends?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. If anyone else knew, they never said anything. As soon as Hannah graduated, I
invited her here for the summer. She told her parents she wanted to live with me while attending the university in Jackson Hole. Aaron agreed as long as she lived under my roof, and she enrolled.”

  “But she never went.”

  “I didn’t know she was going to fall apart until after the baby was born. She couldn’t function, let alone start college. I thought I’d wait it out, give her some time to heal. I hoped I could talk her into trying again the following semester.”

  “Were her parents aware she never started school?” I asked.

  “Do you know how many times they’ve been to see Hannah since she moved here in May?” She curled her fingers into a circle. “Zero. Aaron called every night, thinking he was keeping tabs on her via phone, and he sent money every other week. He asked about her grades, and we found a way to work around it so he wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong.”

  I didn’t even want to know.

  “Now they’re here,” I said. “They know she lied, they know you lied. What happens next?”

  “Aaron hasn’t let her out of his sight. I’m worried.”

  Renee had come clean about one issue and skirted the other. Either she didn’t know what her brother was capable of, or she feigned ignorance. I wanted to believe she knew. Abusers don’t wake up one day as adults and turn into someone they never were before.

  “The abuse,” I said. “How bad is it?”

  “Abuse?” Cade raised a brow, looked at me, looked at Renee. “What abuse?”

  “You mean verbal?” Renee asked.

  “I mean—when was the last time Aaron physically abused his wife or his daughter?”

  She shifted on her seat, thwarting my accusation. “Are you serious? He would never—”

  “Oh, come on, Renee. You can’t expect me to believe it’s never happened before.”

  “I don’t know what you’re suggesting. My brother may be a lot of things, but to allege he’d harm his own family?”

  “Open your eyes,” I said. “See your brother for who he truly is. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  Cade turned toward me. “Why are you so sure there’s been abuse?”

  He wasn’t second-guessing my assessment. He was clarifying, getting the facts straight before he decided the best way to handle the situation.