Shielded In The Shadows

“I asked her who Bill thought the father of her baby was. I’ve been all over my notes, even listened to the tapes over the past couple of days, and nothing. She never said.”

“It’s my understanding that he worried about anyone and everyone, at one point or another,” Jayden said. “She probably didn’t know the answer.”

Probably. Maybe. But unanswered questions made her uncomfortable. “It didn’t matter to the trial,” she said aloud. “Once we got the DNA results saying Bill was the father, I didn’t need a name to go with the imaginary lover he’d concocted.”

“What does it matter now?”

“It probably doesn’t. I just don’t like unanswered questions,” she said. She wasn’t sure Sara was working that day. And didn’t want to bother Chantel. But as soon as she could, she’d ask The Lemonade Stand counselor if she could try to arrange an interview with Suzie Heber.

And prayed the woman would agree to speak with her again.

Chapter 16

Other than preparing for Luke’s parole hearing and monitoring the location app, Jayden took Sunday off. He was on call, of course—that was a given with him—but he didn’t make visits or calls. Didn’t even sit at his desk and do paperwork. He went to the beach, to surf for a couple of hours. To get some distance between him and Emma—to find perspective. And when the waves didn’t take away his constant need to fight thinking about her, he headed down to have dinner with his folks.

They were as welcoming as always, clearly delighted to see him, doted on him like he was still a high school kid living at home, and asked very few questions.

“There’s something different about you,” his mother, Sheila, said as they sat at a restaurant on a pier out over the ocean. One of his father’s favorite spots. Jayden Sr., who went by Jay, never changed much. He had his ideas about how life went and didn’t sway from them.

Take the steak he was eating. Always filet. Always with a bit of pink. And absolutely no steak sauce. His baked potato had both butter and sour cream. Same ranch dressing on his salad—it never wavered. And he didn’t touch the bread. There was something solid, reassuring in the sameness.

And it drove Jayden nuts. When he’d lived at home he’d felt...claustrophobic with the sameness. Figured maybe that was what had pushed him to take such risks all the time. Trying new things. Like he had to prove to himself that there was more to life than just...solid. And the same.

“Nothing different,” he told his mother now. “I’m exactly the same as I was three weeks ago.” He’d been home for two days that time. “Working the same job. Even have mostly the same clients.”

“I’m thinking about retiring.” His father’s words interrupted his foray into a past that had often included him going off in his head, reliving some caper or another, during family dinner—just to survive the blahness. “Any chance you’re ready to come home and take over my business?”

“Zero,” he said lightly. They’d had the talk, seriously, when he’d graduated from college. His father knew he was going to spend his life doing what he was doing. And he knew why.

“Besides, you’re only fifty-three, you’d grow old and die if you retired.”

“That’s what I told him,” Sheila said, smiling at the man like they were still just high school sweethearts.

There’d been a time when he’d wanted that—to be so in love, and so loved, that it would last a lifetime. If things were different, he’d still want that. But things weren’t different and there were some things he couldn’t

change, no matter what he’d give to be able to do so. Some things money couldn’t fix, the weight on his conscience being one of them.

“The world’s changing,” Jay said. “Not just with technology, but overall. More and more businesses have to get in the political arena to survive. Hell, you have an employee who misspeaks on his or her own time and you could end up in national news.”

“And you’d love the free publicity,” Jayden said, popping a bite of crab leg into his mouth.

“Maybe. Just saying...if you were ready...”

“I’m not.” He continued to chew. Thinking of Bill Heber. In a way the guy reminded him of his dad—other than the jealousy issues and a brush with the law. Bill was a bit younger, but not much. He’d owned his own company, too, before his life had come crashing down around him. Both of them were in the automotive industry, though not at all on the same scale. Bill’s had been a one-up mechanic shop and Jay’s was a multimillion-dollar extrusion company that manufactured car parts for several of the major automakers.

“So...” His mother pushed away the big bowl that had held her chicken and Baja ranch salad. “You seeing anyone?” She always asked.

“No.” The answer was always the same. They always moved on. He’d never told his parents about any women he’d slept with. And he wasn’t about to start now, let alone with Emma.

“You’re thirty-one, Jayden.”

What was this? He looked at her. Sucked out another bite of crab. “I’m aware of that,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. She meant the world to him.

“What about grandchildren?” The question was softly spoken. Almost hesitant.

“Sheila.” His father’s voice, one word, in a tone they all knew. Not disrespectful. Not threatening. But one meant to get attention.

“I know,” she said, pursing her lips as she shook her head.