Babyjacked

by Sosie Frost

  “Who?”

  Wasn’t like anyone scrawled my name on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I might have found it down a dark alley or scribbled on some bounced check, but I still waited for that discovery.

  I hesitated. “I’m sorry, who are—”

  “And this is the child?” The woman checked the folder in her hand. “Suzette Doe?”

  I knew I’d regret that name. “The baby is a prima donna…she’s not responding to it yet.”

  “Is that her name or not?”

  Three hours of sleep permitted an invited guest three chances to come at me with some common decency. This lady struck out immediately.

  I had a baby in my arms but hell if my eyebrow didn’t punch up when I needed a bit of attitude.

  “Who wants to know?” I asked.

  The lady soured. “My name is Lauren Mills. I work for Child Protective Services.”

  Damn it. Now was the time to play it cool. Be polite. Genuflect and hope for the best.

  Somehow, I didn’t think that was my game.

  I gave it a long pause, just enough to irritate her. “…And?”

  The lady sucked in a haughty breath. I didn’t have many instincts or memories, but something told me to tug my earrings out and find the seam for her weave so I knew where to yank.

  “I’m here to check on the welfare of the child,” she said.

  “She’s fine.”

  “She’s crying.”

  “You woke her from her nap by playing Beethoven’s Fifth on my doorbell.”

  “Were you unprepared for visitors?”

  Dangerous question. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “May I come in?”

  I had a lot of bad ideas. Grocery shopping without packing extra wipes was not a great plan, but letting this lady anywhere near my child was the shittiest idea of all.

  “The baby is fine,” I said. “We’re fine.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it.”

  Clue wasn’t helping the situation, but I bounced her and waited for the fussing to stop.

  And waited. And waited.

  “She needs a nap,” I finally said.

  “Is your baby normally sleep deprived?”

  I ground my teeth. “No, but I am, so you best be careful.”

  Lauren gave me a bitter smile. “I’m only doing my job, ma’am.”

  “And I’m raising my baby.”

  “You’ve recently been in an accident.” She moved on quickly, checking her notes. “Head trauma? Have the complications resolved?”

  “I’m doing better.”

  “So no further mental impairments?”

  It was a good thing I had a baby in my hands. “I never had a mental impairment. I lost my memory.”

  “Have you regained it?”

  Nope. I wasn’t answering that. “I thought you were here to check on the welfare of the baby?”

  She attempted to step foot into my apartment. “I’m here to ensure the child is in no danger.”

  “Oh, the baby isn’t in danger.” I edged in front of her. “I can’t say the same about you.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “It sure sounds like you’re threatening me.”

  Lauren gripped her folder tighter. “I’m here to interview you and do a home inspection. If you please, give me a tour of your apartment. The sooner you comply, the sooner I’ll leave.”

  I liked the thought of her leaving, but every hair on my neck rose as I stepped aside and let her in. She surveyed the apartment—beautiful and in pristine condition. Her gaze fell to the fireplace, the large windows, and the hint of the countertops in the kitchen.

  “This is your primary residence?” she asked.

  “This is where I’m staying to recuperate.”

  “You have no income?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I just had a baby.”

  “So no job?”

  Maybe? At one point? I’d sure as hell be fired by now. Or insulted that no one thought to call the police when I didn’t show up for almost three weeks. Talk about a bad office.

  “Nothing presently,” I said. “You’ve seen the home, if you would…”

  “Then you’ve been subsisting on charity?”

  “We’re doing fine with what we’ve been given.”

  Lauren wasn’t impressed. “I would like to detail in my report the child’s living environment.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “A tour, if you would, Miss…Doe.”

  She’d need a bulldozer to move me. “If you have a problem, say it. The house is fine. The baby is healthy.”

  “This is routine, I assure you.” She arched an eyebrow. “I will also need to ensure your kitchen is stocked—”

  “You’re looking at the baby’s kitchen.” I pointed to my chest. “And you’re not getting a demonstration of that.”

  “Surely you can understand—”

  “No.” I bristled. “No, I can’t. I’ve done everything right. The doctors said she was healthy—”

  “I’ll need proof of her records sent to my offices.”

  This lady was about to get her ass kicked from my house back to her offices. “Fine. Why don’t you head there and wait for the fax?”

  “You are not cooperating with this investigation, Miss Doe.” Lauren closed her folder. “Perhaps I should speak with the child’s father?”

  That gut punch hit hard enough to feel like a labor pain.

  “Good luck,” I said. “Maybe after you talk to him, you can tell him I’d like a word with him.”

  Her expression twisted. “There is a father?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Where is he?”

  “We haven’t located him yet.”

  “Ah.” She scribbled something in her notes guaranteed to piss me off. “So you’re raising this child on your own.”

  “No. I said we haven’t found him yet.”

  “Then he hasn’t contributed to the welfare of this child.”

  “Listen to me.” I gritted my teeth. “I have amnesia. I have a hard-enough time trying to remember who I am. There is a father, but I don’t know where he is.”

  “So you’re a single mother.”

  “Not for long!”

  A hurried rush of steps trampled down the hall, and Lauren turned as a stern voice silenced us both.

  “What’s going on?” Shepard clutched two bags of groceries. The diapers dropped, bouncing off the ground. “Evie, you okay?”

  I sure as hell didn’t need the backup, but at least a cop would protect Lauren.

  “Excuse me.” Lauren bristled as Shepard edged into the apartment. “Who are you?”

  He didn’t like the question. He wasn’t in uniform, but that didn’t diminish his presence, that authoritative poise that silenced people under his stare.

  “Same question.” His voice hardened. “You first.”

  “Lauren Mills. Child Protective Services.”

  “Oh, of course you are.”

  “I’m conducting an investigation.”

  “Into what?”

  Lauren stiffened. “A child was released into the care of a woman suffering from an unverifiable medical disorder. Perhaps a physical ailment. Perhaps a psychological impairment. Perhaps a mental break. I’m here to ensure the welfare of the child, tour the environment, and complete a report based on my findings.”

  “And I told her the baby is fine,” I said. “She’s insinuating I’m an unfit mother.”

  “Suzette’s welfare is my only concern.”

  Shepard frowned. “Who the hell is Suzette?”

  I sighed. “Clue.”

  “You named her Suzette?”

  “It was breakfast, and they were serving crepes while I did the paperwork. Be glad I didn’t name her Benedict.”

  “If I may…” Lauren stepped further into the living room. “Don’t make this difficult.”

  Shepard grinned. “Oh, I’ll make it real easy. You have the information you need. You can
leave.”

  “I have to examine the apartment.”

  “Do you have a court order?”

  Lauren arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t have a court order.” Shepard flashed the badge on his belt. “If you did, I’d be here, conducting the search with you. Your claims are unfounded. The baby is safe, healthy, and happy, and I’m here to give Miss Doe any help she wishes. You’re done here.”

  The folder snapped shut. Lauren huffed, but she lifted her chin. “See, Miss Doe? All I needed was a little cooperation.”

  “And all you needed was to sit and spin on that stick jammed up your—”

  “Thank you, Ms. Mills.” Shepard stepped between us. “Have a nice day.”

  He slammed the door. Good. One of us had to do it.

  “You.” He pointed at me. “You better drop the attitude, Evie. Think before talking.”

  My blood pressure popped, and my hands trembled in a way that gave Clue a pleasant little bounce. “She insulted me.”

  “Then it’s a damn good thing I showed up when I did.”

  “Yeah, it was.” I fumed. “I thought this was settled. I thought that’s why you found me in the first place. You did a welfare check.”

  “It’s fine, Evie. They’re just concerned about the baby.”

  “Well, it’d be nice if they started searching outside this apartment for their answers. I’ve given them everything I know. Told everyone everything I know. And still people assume that I’m the one at fault.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Where’s her father? Where’s my family?” I held her tighter. “Why hasn’t anyone come looking for me yet?”

  “I’m doing everything I can.”

  “It’s not enough, Shepard! Not when I have doctors and law enforcement agencies and charities all demanding answers I don’t have. Someone somewhere out there has to know who I am.”

  “I’m sure they do.”

  My voice wavered, and, for the first time in two weeks, the prickle of tears threatened to overwhelm me.

  “Don’t let them take her from me, Shepard. She’s all I have.”

  Shepard didn’t ask before reaching for me. I didn’t protest as he pulled both me and the baby close. I held my breath, but the sob dared to tremble from my lips

  This was a mistake.

  Not just letting myself get so shamefully emotional, but settling in Shepard’s arms and feeling…

  Safe.

  Welcomed.

  Wanted.

  I backed away as Clue gave a throaty sigh.

  I held a baby. My baby. A child I’d created with another man.

  And somewhere he was waiting for me.

  But I only looked at Shepard. Met the understanding in his stunningly blue eyes. Let his hands caress my arms. He held me and spoke every promise I longed to hear.

  “No one will take the baby from you, Evie.” He brushed his thumb against my cheek. I stopped my eyes from fluttering closed, but my heart still crashed against my chest. “You’re not in this alone. Not anymore.”

  “Shepard, I don’t need you to play hero.”

  “Good thing this isn’t a game.”

  I swallowed all those tingly feelings and thoughts. “I’m okay. I got upset. I haven’t slept well, and my hormones are insane, and I just put dinner in the oven. All I wanted was a minute to sit while Clue napped, but that woman…” I cast one last disapproving look at the door. “There’s no fighting when the soup is on the table.”

  Shepard’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

  “Get over here and eat, the lot of you.” Granna threatened the teenagers with a wooden spoon. Didn’t matter if it was still covered in rice or not—talk back, get whacked, and scrape your dinner off your backsides. “There ain’t no fighting once the soup is on the table.”

  I lingered in the doorway. Granna pointed the spoon at me. “Same goes for you, Miss Priss. Get your skinny butt over here and get some food in you. Ain’t nothing sticking to them ribs whiles you away at school.”

  And nothing at the college tasted as good as Granna’s cooking.

  I dropped my bookbag beside the door. A large pile of jackets, bags, and hats stacked in a pile. Nothing ever changed at Granna’s. Everything dropped at the door—problems, hunger. Even colors.

  Two of the young boys at the table acted up, pitching away their chairs and thunking their chests with fists. An older teenager cackled, encouraging the fight. Granna smacked them all with a quick hand.

  “Sit your butts down before I kick them out into the street.” Her voice didn’t raise, but her tone struck harder than the spoon. “Lord have mercy, every time I turn around, boys fighting boys, day and night. You want to get fed today? You better listen good. In my house we break bread, not bones. You wanna play tough, you go outside and scrape up your own dinner. Your momma feeding you?”

  The boys—identical except for the color of their shoes—picked up their spoons and quieted down.

  “Is she?”

  One answered, his voice low. “No.”

  “Then you do what I say. You might be big and tough out in that street,” Granna said. “But everyone looks the same when they hungry. In here, everyone’s the same.” She curled a finger towards me. “Even you, baby. Come here, give your Granna a hug. Lord I’ve missed you—”

  I couldn’t remember anything else.

  I blinked. The memory stayed. Somehow. But I couldn’t make sense without the rest of it. I felt the heat from the stove. Touched the chipped bowls on the table. Tasted the chicken soup which had simmered all day so the hungry kids in the neighborhood could have something warm in their bellies.

  “I think I had a grandmother.”

  Shepard’s eyebrows rose. “What do you remember?”

  “It was just a flash.”

  “That’s all we need.” He took the baby from my arms and gestured me to the dining room table. “I had a grandmother…but I don’t think she was blood. More like she was everyone’s grandma, if that makes sense.”

  “Fixture of the community?”

  “Or peacekeeper,” I said. “I went to college.”

  “Remember where?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I was home visiting. At least, it felt like home. It wasn’t an apartment like this. There were…” I closed my eyes and recalled anything I could still see. “Gang colors.”

  Shepard chose his words carefully. “Not a good neighborhood?”

  My gut twisted. “No, I don’t think so. But in that house? Everyone was safe. She made it that way.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  “The kids came to her for supper. And it didn’t matter what color they wore—just that they were hungry, and she fed them.” I rubbed my temples. “Damn. I can’t remember anything else.”

  “It’s still a good sign, Evie.”

  Was it?

  I concentrated. The image of Granna stayed in my mind, but it wasn’t…familiar. Her face was no different from anyone else I’d passed once in the street. The plump, feisty woman had skin the color of coal, a will as strong as a diamond, and a tongue as sharp as glass.

  But I didn’t know who she was.

  I didn’t even know her name.

  And I had no idea if she was still alive.

  Clue gave Shepard a disappointed cry and wiggled in a quiet protest. He shushed her, but he shouldn’t have taken it personally.

  “She’s just hungry, and you’re lacking the requisite parts.” I took her back. “I’ll take it from here. Can you check on the chicken in the oven? It should be done now.”

  Shepard ducked into the kitchen, but he didn’t relay any good news. “Hey, Evie…did you forget something?”

  “Only my entire life.”

  “No…” He returned, brandishing a baking sheet with raw, pink chicken breasts jiggling on top. “You didn’t turn the oven on.”

  I puffed the hair from my face. “Probably for the best. I forgot to season it too.�
�

  Shepard retrieved his groceries and kicked the diapers to the corner. “Relax. I came prepared.”

  He unloaded the bags and revealed two pre-prepared subs. I took the turkey, and he was more than content to keep the Italian. I hadn’t mastered eating with the baby attached to me, but I could pick at the bread while he scarfed down his sandwich.

  I patted Clue as she happily nestled into my chest. “So why is it you’re always here when I need you?”

  Shepard grinned. “There’s room in this place to install a bat-signal for me, but I’d prefer it if you call when you need help.”

  “What if I’m interrupting you?”

  “You’d be the best sort of interruption.”

  I tried not to take the compliment. “Did you work today?”

  “Worked a twelve, and I’m starving.”

  “So…you worked all day, then you went to the grocery store to buy me diapers and dinner instead of going home?”

  He brushed the crumbs from his hands. “I made you a promise.”

  “Don’t you want to go home?”

  “It’s more interesting here.”

  I hummed. “Interesting for the case?”

  “…Yeah.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I bit my lip, channeling my inner Doctor Clark. “If I had to guess, I’d think you were looking for an excuse to stay away from home.”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  “No one’s waiting for you?”

  Shepard lowered the sandwich, but he answered quickly. “No. Not anymore.”

  It wasn’t my place to ask, but I flashed a stranger with a baby to my breast. We couldn’t get any more invasive than that.

  “What happened?”

  He quieted, but he didn’t change the subject. He rubbed a hand over his closely trimmed beard and sighed.

  “I messed it up,” he said. “Same story you always hear. I never thought it’d happen to us.”

  “Were you married?”

  “Only to my job.”

  I paused. “Were you in love?”

  “I’m still in love.” His voice strengthened. “Those feelings don’t go away because she did.”

  “So go find her.”

  “Find her?”

  “Take it from someone who is waiting to be loved.” I met his gaze. Big mistake. Beautiful mistake. “Nothing can be worse than knowing the one you’re meant to be with is out there, just as lonely and lost as you.”