The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5)

by Krista Sandor

  No one in the greenhouse survived.

  She and Sam only sustained cuts and bruises—nothing that needed anything more than a few stitches.

  It was the baby’s health that had been their top priority.

  Besides the Pitocin, she had no idea what Harmony had administered to Tessa during her labor, and she also had no idea if the poor girl even received proper prenatal care. The first few minutes with the pediatrician were some of the hardest she’d ever endured. With Sam’s arm wrapped securely around her, they watched as the doctor examined Tommy. She’d wept when the woman wrapped him back in his blanket, handed him to her, then uttered the words she’d prayed they’d hear.

  He’s a healthy baby boy.

  Zoe stroked the baby’s cheek. “The doctors want to keep him here a few nights for observation just like if he’d had a normal delivery.”

  The image of Tessa, eyes pleading, flashed through her mind.

  Save him.

  “Will you get to stay with Tommy?” Monica asked.

  Zoe glanced at Sam. He smiled, but worry clouded his gaze. “We don’t know yet,” she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Their friends and family had arrived at the hospital not long after they were admitted. Nick’s stunt landing his Cessna in the farm’s sunflower field, carrying her brother, Michael, and Gabe had not pleased the FBI who had been staked out around the perimeter. But once they’d learned their identities, an agent had brought them to the hospital. After Sam spoke with Em, she and Monica had decided to head back to Garrett where they’d waited at a diner until Michael called with the news of the explosion. Her parents had arrived soon after followed by Jenna, Kate, and Lindsey bringing baby Billy and baby Skylar.

  The whole gang was here.

  She wanted to be happy, but there were still too many unknowns.

  Would she and Sam be able to adopt Tommy?

  Would she be able to keep her promise to Tessa?

  And what had happened to the girls in the detention facility?

  Two FBI agents had questioned her earlier. Thanks to Conrad, they already had the pictures she’d taken in the director’s office. She’d answered all their questions, recounting her kidnapping, her time in the farmhouse, and their harrowing escape from the greenhouse. If she weren’t still running on adrenaline, she’d probably have collapsed by now.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Sam spoke quietly with Michael near the window, but she’d caught him checking the time, too, and she knew what he was thinking.

  Please, don’t take the baby from us.

  They loved Tommy. They did. They’d only had him for a couple of hours, but the connection was immediate, and like a circle coming together, they were complete.

  Zoe’s mother pulled up a chair next to her and patted the baby’s head. “It’s like balancing on a razor-thin precipice with terror on one side and absolute joy on the other.”

  Zoe shifted a sleeping Tommy in her arms. “What is, mom?”

  “Loving a child.”

  Zoe steadied herself and blinked back tears. “You’re right, it is.”

  A knock at the door quieted the conversations in the room, and Conrad Henshaw entered.

  “I thought you’d like an update, Mrs. Sinclair,” he said without an ounce of malice.

  Zoe rose from the rocking chair with Tommy in her arms, and Sam came to her side.

  “We’d appreciate that,” Sam answered.

  “Where are the girls?” she asked, the reporter kicking in.

  “They’re safe. They’re in the custody of Child Protective Services.”

  “And Tessa Jackson?”

  Conrad’s chin lowered a fraction. “She’s here, in the morgue.”

  “I’d like to make sure she’s laid to rest with her parents and sister. We’ll take care of any expense,” she added, working to keep her voice even.

  “Of course,” he replied.

  “I’m glad the girls are safe,” she said.

  A beat passed, and no one spoke.

  “There’s more, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  “More?”

  “Yes, but it’s not on the record.”

  Zoe glanced down at Tommy then held Conrad’s gaze. “I think it’s safe to say, we’re very much off the record.”

  The officer nodded. “Thanks to the information you provided to the FBI, raids in four other states are happening as we speak at juvenile detention centers associated with NLR Holdings. They also uncovered a cellphone hidden inside the Garrett Grove facility. From what I understand, it contained images of guards abusing the girls. There’s no doubt that children have been mistreated and laws have been broken.”

  Soft murmurs broke out as her friends and family reacted to the news.

  Zoe exhaled, and the heaviness she’d carried since D.C. lightened. Like every experience, every touch, every tear, it was part of her.

  But it no longer defined her.

  Not anymore.

  “You did it, Zoe,” Em whispered.

  “We did it,” she whispered, sharing a knowing look with Em and Monica.

  “Tommy’s Angels,” Monica said with a teary smile.

  Conrad cleared his throat. “We should also discuss the baby.”

  Sam wrapped his arm around her, and she leaned into him.

  “I’ve spoken with the Child Protective Services team,” the officer began.

  Zoe lifted her chin. “And?” she asked, steel infused into the word.

  No one was taking Tommy from her. She hardened her gaze.

  “I understand you told the hospital social worker you’d like to care for him.”

  She kept her expression neutral. “We’d like more than that, but that’s a start.”

  He nodded. “Good, because the answer is yes. I’ve pulled a few strings. The baby can remain with you and Sam while we untangle and work through the situation.”

  Relief and gratitude swept over her in a rush of emotion, but she startled when Sam released a tight sob. He brushed tears from his cheeks, then turned to their friends.

  “Nobody says a word about me crying. You, Michael MacCarron went through a box of Kleenex when Billy was born.” He pointed to Nick. “You, Captain Nick, would have fit right in with the tween girls at a Justin Bieber concert the first time you held Skylar.”

  “Did you cry when I was born, Daddy?” a sleepy Kate asked, her head on Jenna’s lap.

  Ben nodded. “I did, Jellybean.”

  “Welcome to the club,” her father said, patting Sam on the back. “Get ready to lose a lot of sleep.”

  The group chuckled, and Tommy released a sweet coo of a yawn.

  “Thank you, Conrad,” Zoe said, then gave him a wry smile. “However, for the record, there’s no way in hell I was going to let anyone take this child from me.”

  Sam rubbed her back. “She may be petite, but Zoe Stein has always been a badass.”

  Conrad chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me that, Sam. All signs are pointing to the fact that your wife may have brought down a massive ring of corruption and fraud, and saved many, many girls from terrible abuse. From where I’m standing, women don’t get much tougher than your wife.”

  Conrad turned to leave, but Sam called him back. “I need you to know, Conrad, that we think of you as family.” He gestured to the people in the room. “You’re part of all this crazy now. When everything settles down, we’d love to have you and Darren come to visit us in Langley Park.”

  The stoic officer blushed. “I’d like that very much, and I’m sure Darren would, too” he answered and with a nod, headed out the door.

  Kathy smiled down at the baby. “This is a new chapter in your story.”

  Zoe gazed up at her husband. “A new chapter. What should we call it?”

  Sam’s eyes shined with tears. “I’m not sure, but I can tell you this. You’ve always had my heart, Z. And now Tommy does, too. From this day forward, you and Tommy are
my home.”

  She lifted her chin and pushed up onto her toes. Sam leaned down and cupped her face in his strong, warm hands.

  “And so begins the story of home,” she whispered against his lips.

  Epilogue

  Sam opened his eyes as the mid February morning sun peeked through the curtains. He stroked his wife’s cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She hummed in her sleep and curled into him, her body warm, her scent sweet.

  It had been eighty-seven days since the fallout at the farm.

  Had someone told him eighty-eight days ago that he’d be living in a new house with a new baby, he would have laughed in their face.

  But here he was, a husband and a father.

  Zoe’s brother, Ben had recently renovated a 1930s Tudor style home in Langley Park with the intention of flipping it. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. With a new baby, he and Zoe needed more space than his bungalow offered, and they’d purchased the gorgeous home and moved in a month ago.

  He and his brother had hired an assistant manager at Park Tavern, and he’d taken several weeks off work to help care for Tommy. As he’d expected, news of Zoe uncovering widespread abuses at NLR Holdings facilities rocked the country.

  Jack Riggs had been using Zipline Media like his own propaganda machine to cover up and squash any story that threatened his illegal business interests. He and Cheryl had been arrested only days after the events at the farm, and Zoe had worked with the FBI to help untangle NLR Holdings which she learned stood for Newcastle, Laughlin, and Riggs.

  Cheryl’s family had business ties to the same company that had run and abused girls at the detention center on the Virginia border. Jack had brought his brother and his wife, Dwanda “Harmony” Leonard-Riggs, into the fold with the Garrett County center. The deal was, as long as Bud and Harmony made sure the Garrett Grove facility continued to secretly defraud the government for millions by overcharging and double charging, he didn’t care what his brother and sister-in-law did to make money on the side. The drugs. The marriage retreat. The babies. These were Bud and Harmony’s delusional endeavors to line their pockets. They saw themselves as spiritual gurus and fell victim to their own bullshit. From journals the FBI found at the farmhouse, it was clear that Harmony and Bud thought they were on the cusp of an enlightened way of thinking and living. It was pure insanity.

  And then there were the teen mothers and the babies. It was uncovered that, in an act of pure cruelty, only days after the girls had delivered, Harmony and Bud would put them on a bus destined for a town where they knew no one and had nothing. The only saving grace was that Dwain Q. Leonard had kept records of all the girls’ destinations and was able to provide information as to the whereabouts of the stolen babies.

  Zoe’s work highlighting the abuses of many private juvenile detention centers shined a light onto a sector once shrouded in darkness. Through her reporting, she uncovered more schemes and more fraud. Thanks to her work, legislators and activists were working together to put a stop to those abusive practices and build safeguards into the juvenile justice system.

  This spitfire of a woman who wasn’t afraid to call a man twice her size a knuckle-dragging bag of dicks had done it.

  Zoe hummed again and pressed her fingertips into his bare chest. “Are you watching me sleep, you creeper?”

  “We don’t get that much rest these days. So yeah, I’m taking a minute to look at my gorgeous wife.”

  A lazy smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Gorgeous wife? Well, if you put it that way,” she said, working her hand down his abdomen and into his boxers.

  Jesus! He loved this woman.

  She was fighting injustice and taking on the world all while giving Tommy a bottle, and he could barely match his socks after four hours of sleep.

  But he wouldn’t change a thing. Not one damn thing.

  He’d woken up hard. That’s what happened when you slept next to Zoe Stein Sinclair. One little sigh, one sleepy moan, and his body wanted hers in the most primal way.

  She stroked his cock, up and down, her grip tightening, but he wasn’t about to let this encounter end in a hand job.

  He leaned in and took her earlobe between his teeth. “Do you want to watch?”

  She moaned a sweet, breathy sound that sent another rush of lust crashing through him.

  “It’s been a while,” she whispered.

  It had. Caring for an infant was a twenty-four seven commitment, but the universe must have been on their side this morning. The baby monitor on the dresser hadn’t made a peep.

  Zoe looked up, and her sleepy grin was replaced with a sexy smile.

  His wife loved to watch. And he couldn’t get enough either.

  He’d made sure to bring their special mirrored light fixture from the bungalow. He’d installed that sucker before he’d even stocked the fridge with beer—and that was saying something. They also had a prim and proper full-length floor mirror in the corner of the bedroom that they’d used for the exact opposite of prim and proper. Nope, that mirror was for getting down and dirty.

  He took off his boxers, and Zoe licked her lips. He sat up and took her with him then slid her tank top over her head and peeled the G-string down her legs. He angled their bodies toward the mirror and maneuvered her onto his lap. Her back to his chest, the mirror let him see every inch of her sexy as sin body and those perfect breasts.

  She pushed up onto her knees then sank down, enveloping his hard length in her sweet, wet heat. In the space of a breath, he pulled her close, one hand massaging her breast and the other at the apex of her thighs, working her most sensitive place. He loved fucking her this way, her body writhing, her hips swaying. She arched her back then swiveled her hips and took him deeper.

  She was a glorious sight to see. Her eyes clouded with lust, she watched their bodies move in perfect harmony.

  “I want it harder.”

  Oh, and somedays, she liked it rough.

  Yeah, he was the luckiest guy on the planet.

  He pulled out and, and she laid back onto the bed. He covered her body with his. Primal urges taking over, he licked a trail from her navel to the curve of her neck then drove in hard, his cock desperate to be back inside her.

  She arched into him, eyes wide, watching his body grind and thrust in the mirror on the ceiling.

  “I love watching you fuck me,” she breathed against his lips.

  “That’s good because I really like doing it.”

  She giggled, but he wiped that smile right off her face when he doubled his pace. He grasped her hip then captured her wrists and held them above her head. He shifted his body rubbing against her sensitive bundle of nerves—just how she liked it.

  Their bodies came together in a frenzy of fevered passion, and they went over the edge, waves of bliss washing over them in delicious, pulsing waves. He kissed away each gasp, each moan, and each breath as their bodies stilled.

  He released her wrists, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  She twisted her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. “I needed that today.”

  He kissed the delicate skin below her earlobe. “It’s a big day.”

  Today was what they’d learned many adoptive parents called Gotcha Day. In a few hours, they’d meet Michael, who had been acting as their legal counsel, at the courthouse and in a private ceremony in the judge’s chambers, sign the decree of adoption and officially become Tommy’s parents. The adoption had moved quickly. With both his biological parents deceased and no relatives from either side coming forward to claim him, they were able to begin the process of social worker visits and mountains of paperwork only days after they’d brought him home. For Gotcha Day, they’d decided on a private ceremony with a celebration at Park Tavern scheduled right after with all their friends and family.

  Sam rolled onto his back, and Zoe rested her head on his chest. They remained quiet, her body pressed against his, his fingers twisting and untwisting a lock of her ha
ir.

  “We made it,” she whispered.

  He kissed the top of her head. “We did.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “I think it would be strange if we weren’t.”

  “I want to give him a good life. I want Tessa to know how much her son is loved.”

  He turned to his side and met his wife’s gaze. “I think she knows, Z.”

  “When she’d asked me to save him, and I nodded, something passed between us. A promise? An understanding? I’m not sure what you would call it, but it was real. As real as the love I feel for you and Tommy.”

  “We’re going to give him a good life. He’s going to grow up surrounded by love.”

  A beat passed.

  “We’ll have to keep an eye on my mother. You know she’s going to try and hide Buddha statues all over the new house.”

  “She does it because she loves you.”

  She gave him a teary smile. “I know. I’m just trying not to get all sappy.”

  He gazed into her shining gray-blue eyes and saw every part of her: the young girl, the feisty teenager, the driven woman. “I think we’ve earned a little sappy.”

  “Do you think we’ll be good parents?”

  Just as she’d posed the question, the baby monitor came to life, and Tommy’s sweet morning coos floated through the room.

  “That’s your son weighing in on that question,” he said.

  “And what’s he saying?”

  Sam furrowed his brow and scratched his chin, pretending to listen carefully. “He’s saying he knows you’re going to love him and protect him.”

  Zoe cocked her head to the side. “You speak baby now?”

  “A little,” he said with a smile.

  The baby chattered on.

  “What’s he saying now?” Zoe asked.

  Sam did his thinking hard pose again. “That was baby for, ‘I really want mommy to change all the stinky diapers.’”

  She shook her head. “Are we ready for today?”

  He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Today, tomorrow, twenty years from now, together, Z, there’s nothing we can’t handle.”