Hook, Line and Shotgun Bride

by Cassie Miles

  “Loud and clear. The satellite hookup is excellent.”

  Shane plunked her into the chair in front of the computer. “Eve, meet Angela Hawthorne.”

  Eve’s mouth stretched in a gigantic smile, and she leaned forward as though she could come closer. “Wow, you’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Angela returned the smile. “Where are you?”

  “I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you.” She laughed. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to say that. Sounds dramatic, doesn’t it?”

  Benjy rushed into the room. “I wanna see.”

  Angela popped him onto her lap and introduced him.

  Though it didn’t seem possible, Eve’s smile got even wider. “Hey, Benjy.”

  “Do you know the thirteenth president?” he asked.

  “Millard Fillmore,” she said. “I always liked him because he ran for the Know Nothing Party.”

  Shane lifted Benjy off her lap. “We’re going outside now. I saw some elk up on the ridge.”

  After they left, Eve said, “We don’t have a lot of time on this connection. How much has Shane told you?”

  “Nothing really. I know we were both part of the Prentice-Jantzen study, which means we’re both twenty-six and born in New Mexico.”

  “And there are many more similarities.” Eve’s pixilated image on the screen cocked her head. “Would you mind pushing your hair back from your face?”

  An odd request, but Angela complied.

  “You have detached earlobes and a widow’s peak. So do I.” She ran her hands through her messy, shoulder-length blond hair. “These secondary genetic traits really don’t prove much, but I have DNA analysis for every person involved in the study.”

  “Including me?”

  “You and I were the only two females in a test field of twenty-four subjects. A statistical anomaly. There should have been more women, but the differential isn’t necessarily outside the parameters of possibility. Since this study took place twenty-six years ago, I doubt that Dr. Prentice had the tools to manipulate the outcome.”

  Eve might look like a ditzy blonde, but her language showed a high level of education. “Are you a scientist?”

  “Mathematician,” she said. “And you?”

  “I’m a chef.”

  “And I’ll bet you’re Cordon Bleu,” Eve said. “Further-more, I’d be willing to wager that you have exceptional comprehension skills. That’s the plus side of Prentice’s genetic engineering. We all have high IQs.”

  Neil had made a similar assumption, but Angela wasn’t convinced. If she was so smart, why had she come within minutes of marrying a man who wanted to do her harm? “We should cut to the chase.”

  “Right,” Eve said. “When Prentice set up his study, there were several sperm donors. Fewer women volunteered their eggs for harvesting. The in vitro process isn’t a lot of fun.”

  “I’ve been through it,” Angela said.

  “Me, too.”

  Abruptly, the image on the screen shifted as Eve showed off her belly. “I’m five months’ pregnant. Can you tell?”

  Angela couldn’t help grinning as she remembered her own excitement while she was carrying Benjy. “Bottom line, Eve.”

  Her face came back on the screen. “You and I have the same biological mother. We’re half sisters.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Her sister? Angela felt her jaw drop. This couldn’t be. My sister? Those two words—words that other people took for granted—were as incomprehensible to her as a foreign language.

  She’d never felt as if she was part of a real family. When her father died, she was too young to remember him. There were photographs and a stuffed bunny rabbit that he supposedly bought for her. But the warm place in her memory where her father should have been was a blank.

  Her mother had tried to make a life for them, but she hadn’t signed up to be a single mother, and Angela knew that dragging a child from place to place was a burden. She’d tried to be a good girl, tried to make herself useful. But her mom seldom smiled.

  After she got married again, Mom cheered up. At least, she wasn’t crying herself to sleep every night, and Angela was glad for that, even though she felt like an outsider in her stepfamily.

  “I don’t have any living relatives except for Benjy.” She drew back from the smiling blonde woman on the computer screen. “My mother died when I was eighteen.”

  “I’m sorry,” Eve said gently. “It must be tough.”

  “I do all right.” Self-reliance was a huge part of her character. There hadn’t been a choice.

  “The people who raised you, the people you called Mom and Dad, aren’t your biological parents.”

  “I understand.” Dr. Prentice had explained that part of the study.

  “Then you know I’m not lying. Biologically, I’m your half sister,” Eve said with absolute assurance. “That makes Benjy my nephew. And my baby will be his cousin.”

  Angela’s doubts faded as she imagined the Thanksgiving dinners they could share, the homemade birthday presents she could fashion and the special dinners she could prepare. “What’s your favorite food?”

  “I’m developing a taste for hummus.”

  “I have a perfect recipe.” But now probably wasn’t the time to talk about food. “I want to meet you.”

  “As soon as I’m back in Denver,” Eve promised. “In the meantime, Shane tells me that you’ve got a problem.”

  “The worst part is already over. I called off the wedding.”

  “Do you think your former fiancé is going to accept your decision and let you go?”

  “Doubtful. And that’s not because he loves me and can’t live without me.”

  “Did you love him?” Eve asked.

  “I must have. I agreed to marry him, but we didn’t have a grand passion.” She could have been talking to Yvonne or any of her other friends, but this conversation was different because Eve was her sister. Every word echoed with a deeper understanding. “We hadn’t made love in weeks. Maybe a month.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Not too much. I’ve never been all that thrilled about what goes on in the bedroom. Not even with my first husband, and I definitely loved him.” She couldn’t believe she’d confided such a personal, intimate detail. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

  “I’m no expert on sex,” Eve said. “Until I met Blake, I was a virgin. But believe me, when it’s done right, there’s nothing better than sexual intercourse. And foreplay, of course. Lots of kissing and touching and—”

  Her image on the screen was interrupted by static, reminding Angela that this satellite connection wouldn’t last forever. She needed to focus. “Here’s my problem. My ex-fiancé wants custody of my son. But I don’t know why.”

  “If Prentice is involved, there’s some kind of genetic connection. Do you have a DNA profile for Benjy?”

  “I don’t need one. After my husband was killed, I had the IVF procedure using a frozen embryo. My son’s DNA is mine and my husband’s.”

  Or was it? Her mind raced as she imagined alternate scenarios. She and Tom had gone to Dr. Prentice; they had trusted him. What if he had substituted a different embryo? She might be another unwitting participant in a genetic engineering experiment. Like her mother.

  “All the same,” Eve said, “run a check on Benjy’s DNA. And anybody else you can think of. Your ex-fiancé. His family.”

  An impossible idea! “I can’t ask them for DNA swabs.”

  The image jumped on the screen as Eve gestured emphatically. “Science might be the only way to get direct answers. Prentice likes to play God. Don’t trust anything he says.”

  “Was he responsible for the murder of…” she paused for a moment while she thought of the proper relationship “…your father-in-law?”

  “No,” Eve said. “As far as I know, Prentice isn’t a murderer. Just a scumbag.”

  “Do you think I should meet with him?”

  “You might
get answers, but I don’t know if you want to get that close to him. Talk to Shane about it.” Eve’s wide mouth stretched in a toothy grin. “By the way, what’s your relationship with him?”

  “Shane is my best friend.”

  “Can I offer you some advice? Sisterly advice?”

  Angela couldn’t help smiling back at the image on the screen. “Can I stop you?”

  “Probably not. Once I get started, I obsess on a subject until it’s completely exhausted. Okay, here’s my advice. Hang on to Shane. He’s a good guy.”

  “Very good advice.”

  “I’ve got to go. We’ll stay in touch via e-mail. And I’ll send a copy of your DNA profile.”

  Angela reached out and touched the screen. “I always wanted a sister.”

  “Me, too.” Eve was also touching the screen. “Give my nephew a big hug.”

  Static raced across the screen, and the picture dissolved.

  For a moment, Angela sat back in the chair, trying to absorb what had just happened. Then she rushed for the door. She couldn’t wait to tell Shane about her new family relationship.

  Outside, he leaned against the porch railing, watching as Benjy scampered back and forth, gathering pinecones. Shane turned to look at her, tilted his cowboy hat back on his forehead and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up? You look like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”

  “I have a sister.” Though she wanted to shout the news, she whispered so Benjy wouldn’t hear. “Half sister, actually. We have the same biological mother.”

  “You and Eve don’t look much alike.”

  “Apparently, we share secondary genetic traits.” She heard herself repeating Eve’s language. “Whatever that means.”

  Her gaze settled on her son as he scurried toward her with two fistfuls of pinecones. When he got to the porch stoop, he hopped from one foot to the other. With each hop, he recited a U.S. president’s name in a singsong cadence.

  In a quiet voice, she asked Shane, “Should I tell him about his new aunt?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  Angela was certain that Eve and Benjy would love each other. Their coloring was similar—blondish hair and blue eyes, though Benjy’s eyes were an unusual color of dark, stormy blue. Still, the genetic connection between Eve and Benjy was obvious in their intelligence. When it came to genius behavior, her son counted as a brilliant example of genetic engineering. What if he isn’t my biological child?

  If Prentice had created her son using some kind of superembryo, she could understand why Neil wanted custody so badly. Neil must have been watching Benjy grow, waiting until his intelligence could be confirmed.

  She turned toward Shane. “I need to set up a meeting with Prentice.”

  THAT NIGHT AFTER BENJY was tucked into bed, Shane opened a bottle of merlot and poured a healthy dose into two mismatched water glasses. In the front room, he delivered one glass to Angela, who sat on the plaid sofa with her feet curled up underneath her. She smiled up at him. Her long hair curled around her cheeks and spilled down her back. Ever since she’d talked to her half sister, her mood had fluctuated between bubbly happiness and flat-out worry.

  He sank into the chair beside the sofa, stretched out his legs, took a sip of wine and waited for her to confide in him.

  “Nice wine,” she said. “Can you do a DNA profile on Benjy?”

  “Sure.”

  “How does it work?”

  “I swab his cheek, seal it in a plastic bag and turn it in at the sheriff’s office in Georgetown.”

  “How long will it take to get results?”

  “If I mark it urgent, it ought to take only a couple of weeks.”

  She groaned. “That long? On TV, they get results in a couple of minutes.”

  “We don’t exactly have a high-tech crime lab in Clear Creek County.” Most of the local crime involved bar fights, domestic violence and vehicular issues. There were, however, exceptions. Two years ago, he’d investigated a rape case and wanted DNA results from semen in a hurry so he could put the offender behind bars. “I know somebody who can rush the results. It’ll be only a couple of days.”

  “Eve suggested that I test Benjy. She said that if Prentice is involved, DNA is an issue.”

  The implication was clear. “She thinks Prentice might have substituted a different embryo for your in vitro procedure.”

  “Because of the Prentice-Jantzen study, I wasn’t the biological child of my parents.” Her eyebrows pulled into a scowl that caused parallel worry lines. “It’s possible that Benjy isn’t mine.”

  That suspicion had been dancing at the edge of his mind since he heard about Prentice’s fraud in the study, but he hadn’t voiced it. Angela had enough to worry about without second-guessing her child’s biological heritage.

  He drew up his legs, leaned forward in the chair and placed his glass of wine on the coffee table. His arms were open to comfort her and hold her. “Benjy will always be your son. His DNA doesn’t matter.”

  She rubbed at her forehead to erase the worry lines. “When I first decided to have the IVF procedure, I wanted Tom’s child. By having his baby, I thought I could keep a piece of him with me forever.”

  “I remember.”

  Tom’s death had left her devastated. Even when she smiled, her eyes were a deep well of sorrow. A shadow of that sadness veiled her face.

  “Sometimes,” she said, “I still miss him.”

  “So do I.”

  “I’ll always be his widow. I have my precious memories of Tom and of our time together. But I have my own life—the life I’ve built with Benjy. And with Waffles. Even with Neil.” She gave an ironic laugh. “In a way, I should be grateful to him for helping me make a transition. By accepting his proposal, I realized that I could be married to another man.”

  “As long as it’s the right man.”

  Her eyes brightened as she gazed at him over the rim of her glass. “Are you saying I should look for someone who’s not trying to drive me insane?”

  “Whatever floats your boat.”

  The stillness of the mountains wrapped comfortably around them. On quiet nights like this, he almost regretted his decision to move into town and work for Josh at PRESS. But that was because Angela was here. Her presence turned the solitude into peace. If he’d been alone in this cabin, he’d be itching to roam.

  She shifted position on the sofa. “Eve also said I should try to get DNA from everybody involved. Do you think there’s any way to track down Neil’s genetic profile?”

  “I doubt that he’s in the CODIS data bank of criminal DNA. I know the military has a lot of DNA records on file.”

  “Neil was never in the military, but his father was. Can we access that information?”

  “Doubtful.” An idea occurred to him. “What about Neil’s mother? Nobody ever talks about her. She might be willing to provide a DNA sample.”

  “I don’t know how to reach her.”

  Mentally, Shane put that research on his list of things to do: find Neil’s mother. At this point, his to-do list was very short. Apart from keeping Angela and Benjy away from Neil, he didn’t have a plan. “We need to come up with some kind of strategy.”

  “Starting with Prentice,” she said. “Neil isn’t going to stop coming after me until he knows for sure that there isn’t a chance for him to get his hands on Benjy. I can negotiate, starting with Prentice.”

  “In a phone call.”

  “In person,” she said firmly. “I want him to know I’m serious. To look him in the eye.”

  “Could be dangerous.”

  “Not if we meet in a public place. What’s he going to do? Shoot me?”

  The thought of Angela seeing anybody associated with Neil worried him. Whether or not she wanted to believe it, she was vulnerable. “I can set it up, and I’ll make sure there’s no chance for Neil to get anywhere near you.”

  “I need to find answers,” she said. “After I talked to Eve, I started wondering when this plot to g
et custody of Benjy started. Prentice told me that he discovered I was part of the study when he ran my DNA for the embryo process.”

  “But he might have known earlier.”

  Prentice might have been targeting her all along. His lecture, which had so impressed Tom, might have been a setup. Neil might have been in on it from the start. “Do you remember what Dr. Em said? Neil purposely went after you when he saw you at the Army Medical Center. What if his good friend Dr. Prentice told him that you were special?”

  “I was also married,” she said. “Happily married.”

  Shane didn’t think a woman’s marital status would stop somebody like Neil—a guy with an ego as big as Mount Evans. “He might have thought he could steal you away.”

  “No way.” She shook her head. “Neil and Tom met at the Army Medical Center. They weren’t buddies or anything, but I remember that they talked about all the horrible diseases. The bird flu. And anthrax. And malaria. All of which might affect future children.”

  “Neil’s conversation backed up Prentice’s lecture.” A sinister picture began to take shape in his mind. “They were working in tandem, warning him about exposures that could cause sterility or genetic problems for your kids.”

  If their plan had been to convince Tom that the only rational course was to create frozen embryos, it had worked. Tom had been adamant. He couldn’t wait to get to Prentice and start the process.

  “But why?” she asked.

  “You said it yourself. You were biologically engineered. You have genius DNA.”

  “So what? What did Prentice hope to gain?”

  “Your eggs.”

  Her eyes widened. “Okay, it sounds weird when you say that out loud.”

  But he was thinking darker thoughts. Prentice had needed Tom to convince her to undergo the process for creating their frozen embryos. Once her eggs had been harvested, there was no longer a need for her husband.

  Tom’s death in an unsolved hit-and-run accident seemed far too convenient.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Angela went for a jog on the gravel road outside the cabin. First, she ran downhill toward the creek where the rushing water slipped like satin over the rocks, then she took a turn that went higher and higher. Jogging in mountain terrain was more of a cardio workout than she was accustomed to, and when she reached the top of the ridge, she stopped to catch her breath. On one side, the two-lane graded road dropped away, revealing a spectacular panorama of rugged foothills and jagged peaks. Hands on hips, she walked.