by Nancy Martin
I had startled him. "How did you know that?"
"I know. Did Flan?"
"Not yet. We'll tell him when the DNA results come in."
I wondered how Flan would respond to that information. I was pretty sure Flan was the father of Laura's child, particularly because Doe had been so convinced Laura would be the millstone around her neck forever.
"How do you think he'll react?" Bloom asked.
I couldn't guess. But at that moment, I realized the father hadn't mattered to Laura. She had given up on Flan, and no woman in the universe could have considered Yale Bailey a suitable parent for anything but a monster. Laura had been choosing a name and planning for a new baby no matter who had fathered her child.
Slowly, I said, "The father wasn't part of Laura's equation."
She had wanted the baby.
"You all right?" Bloom asked.
"Yes."
Bloom pulled into the circular drive in front of the hospital. He stopped at the curb, put the car in park and turned to me. "You're a good deputy, Nora."
"Thank you."
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and unwrapped it to reveal my grandmother's sapphire ring. "You can have this back now."
"Thank you." I slipped the ring on my finger.
"You didn't really do it to get the ring back, though, did you?"
"No," I said. "Have you ever been in love, Detective?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Did you have a girlfriend in high school? Someone who made your heart go pitter-patter?"
"Josie Epstein."
I nodded. "Flan was my Josie Epstein. He might look like a buffoon to you, but I know what he's like on the inside. And I knew he wasn't a killer."
"Can I give you some advice?" he asked, after he'd shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket and sat looking at me.
I pretended to admire the flash of the ring safely back on my hand. I had no intention of helping him through this.
"You did a good thing tonight, but your methods are way off base and your motivation is questionable. Women always fall for bad boys. And most bad boys aren't worth the trouble. I'm not just talking about Cooper. 1 have a feeling I know what kind of help you had." Turning even more grave, he said, "Sooner or later, associating with certain people will get you into trouble."
I gave him a smile. "I know what I'm doing, Detective."
"I'm not telling you this as a police officer," he said.
I raised my eyebrows. "As a friend, then?"
He summoned some of his Boy Scout mettle. "Now that you're finished with your investigation, I wonder—maybe you have some spare time? Like for a cup of coffee or something?"
I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then I got out of the car. I bent down in time to see him try to wipe the surprise off his face. "See you around, Detective Bloom."
I let the plate-glass door of the hospital swing shut behind me. The information desk wasn't open yet, and the lobby was deserted. I checked the overhead signs and headed for the elevators.
Maternity was on the second floor. I found a nurse at a desk doing paperwork. She smiled when I told her what I was looking for and gave me the short version, which was that I could wait a few minutes while Libby was settled in her room, or I could take a walk down to the nursery to see my new nephew.
Standing in front of the window were Rawlins and Emma.
Rawlins looked up at me with a big grin. "Hey, Aunt Nora. We're waiting to see the kid."
Emma had one arm draped around Rawlins's shoulders. In her other hand, she had a fistful of cigars. "Hey, Sis. You don't look half bad. I guess everything went well?"
"Better than expected," I reported. "And you?"
"Same here. You might want to talk to Mick, though."
"Is he okay?"
"Not scarred for life, but definitely rethinking any connection to our family."
"Where is he now?"
She pointed straight up. "His dad's upstairs. Why don't you take a walk? The baby won't be ready for a few more minutes."
I took Emma's directions and went to the third floor. Up there, the professional staff was already bustling around. I passed a busy nurses' station, but bypassed the waiting room that appeared to be full of snoozing relatives. Down the hall, sitting in two plastic chairs and playing cards, were a uniformed police officer and Aldo.
Aldo saw me and didn't say anything. Just pointed to the next room.
I peeked in the narrow window of the door. I could see a big man in the bed, sound asleep. At the window, looking out at the rising sun, stood Michael. He had his hands thrust in the back pockets of his jeans, and he looked like he'd been hit by a bus.
I hesitated, then eased inside the room.
He twisted around, and his face turned ten years younger. "You're okay."
I slipped into his embrace. "I'm more than okay."
"Your life of crime ended successfully?"
I kept my voice very soft and looked up at him. "Very well, thank you. And your mission?"
His grin broadened. "We had good results, too."
"Did you deliver a baby?"
"At the last minute we decided to let the professionals take over. Then those two Lamaze coaches showed up, and everything got too crazy for me. I stuck around long enough to hear the good news, then came up here."
We smiled at each other, then heard a distinct snore from the bed.
"Want to introduce me?" I asked, turning to look at the man in the bed. "Or shall we wait until he's awake?"
"This is the best way to meet him," Michael replied. "Trust me."
Michael's father had the same strong Italian features as his son—blunt nose, a full lower lip that looked forbidding in repose, and dark, eloquent brows. Michael had lazy eyelids, but I couldn't see if his father's were the same. Even punctured with IV needles, his arms looked powerful and his chest was deep.
"How's he doing?" I whispered.
"He's going to live," Michael said with a twinge of wry humor. "So I don't need to worry about inheriting anything right away."
"Right away?" I asked.
Michael reached out one hand and lightly smoothed his father's hair. "Yeah. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wasn't in a listening mood. I'll try again another time."
"So, you're speaking?"
Michael let his hand drop, and he shrugged. "He has this fantasy. He wants me to find him a 'sixty-nine Mustang, and we'll drive it cross-country to Venice Beach to look at girls in bikinis. I told him it would likely be the boys in bikinis now, but he thought I was joking."
I slid my arm around his waist. "Want to take a walk with me, instead?"
His smile reappeared. "Where to?"
"To see the newest Blackbird."
Quietly, we let ourselves out of the room and ambled down the hall, past Aldo and his card-playing partner.
When we were alone in the elevator, Michael said, "How about if I sell that old house to some people who want to start a school?"
"What kind of school?"
"I don't know. A charter school."
''Nothing weird? Something sensible and respectable?"
He nodded. "I'll ask."
Emma and Rawlins were making fools of themselves in front of a large window. On the other side of the glass, the youngest member of my family waved a small fist and scrunched up his face in a silent howl. Already, he had a beef with his relatives.
Rawlins handed Michael a cigar. Emma already had hers clamped in her teeth. She hadn't lit up yet, but I knew it wouldn't be long. She took Rawlins by the elbow. "C'mon, kid," she said to him, sending me a knowing glance. "Let's go see your mom."
With Michael behind me, I looked down at my newborn nephew. Lightly, Michael rested his chin on top of my head and put his arms around me.
"Isn't he darling?" I asked, hugging his arms.
"Damn cute," Michael agreed.
I gathered my courage and said, "I've been thinking."
"About?"
> "Getting on with my life. Starting over," I said, hesitantly. Then, with more conviction, "I want to start a family. I want to have a baby."
"Hmm," Michael said. "Need some help with that?"
