Bethany took a deep breath. She blinked hard, and Slade saw her nod. “Thanks, Maggie. I should get Jason home for a nap.” She took Jason by the hand and headed back outside. Slade followed, with his ice cream melting onto his fingers.
Outside, Bethany sagged against a wooden pillar holding up the overhang that shaded the front of the drug store. She glanced at Slade. “It’s the sympathy that’s the worst. I hate anyone feeling sorry for me.” She dug into her ice cream like it was an enemy to take down, stabbing it with her spoon. With her mouth full, she asked, “Do you want Jason to finish his ice cream before we get into your car? I’d hate to have him drop it on new upholstery.”
Slade shrugged. “That’s what car washes are for.”
Her mouth twitched. “Around here, the car wash is the hose in the front yard, unless you’re lucky enough that the high school in Went, which is the next town over, is having one as a fundraiser.”
Slade nodded. “Okay, we’ll finish them here.”
She ate her ice cream in silence, just about bolting it down. Slade couldn’t imagine she tasted any of it. Jason obviously took his ice cream seriously—he methodically licked the cone down to the baked confection holder, then set about biting off chunks, working around it counter-clockwise. When he finished, Slade took Bethany’s cup and tossed it and his unfinished cone into the trash.
“Mama says…said wasting food was a sin.” The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s gone to heaven.”
Slade nodded. “Sure hope so, son.”
***
Silence filled the vehicle on the drive back. Bethany knew that all too soon she was going to have to face Slade—she could feel the tension radiating from him. He had no legal right to Jason—she wasn’t even sure Brock Wells had a right, even if Jason was his biological son. But Bethany knew she needed support from these men. She wanted the adoption to go smoothly. She wasn’t up to legal battles, but she had to make sure Jason got not only what he needed, but what he deserved.
Her irritation with Tayra spiked again. Tayra had insisted that she’d told her ex-husband about his son. By the time Jason was two, Brock had left the SEAL’s and had started working for
Slade Security…and Tayra had been adamant that Brock didn’t want his son. What else had she lied about?
Tayra had said that Brock sent regular checks for Jason. But if Slade didn’t know about the boy, there was little possibility that Brock knew anything about him. So the checks had been a lie, too, and Tayra really had been scraping by. Tayra had told Bethany how tight the two men—Slade and Brock—were, which was why Bethany had been okay with Slade coming up here to sort things out.
Now she wanted to chew on her thumbnail, she was so nervous about what was to come. Would Slade want to take the boy? Could he? Would he call for Brock to come and take Jason away? She couldn’t have that—she wasn’t going to allow it. She’d raised Jason, more so even than Tayra had. She wasn’t giving him up without a fight.
Slade pulled up in front of Tayra’s house—well, her house now, or maybe Jason’s. Tayra hadn’t been great about laying down clear instructions in her will. Climbing out, every muscle tired, Bethany helped Jason unbuckle. She swung him out of the SUV. He was already yawning. Taking him inside, she glanced back and asked, “Would you care to wait on the porch?”
It wasn’t friendly of her, but she didn’t know this man and she didn’t want him inside the house. Not until she knew if he was a friend or not. He nodded and Bethany headed inside. She’d bring out some lemonade with her—a peace offering. Then she’d settle down and tell Slade what Jason needed—and that she was keeping him, no matter what.
Chapter 3
Slade pulled off his coat, loosened his tie, and sat down on one of the two rickety, wooden chairs on the porch. A splinter jabbed him in the thigh. He shifted and pulled a thin cushion over the spot. The day was starting to cool. The air smelled of cut grass and he could hear the drone of a lawn mower, along with the hum of bees.
Taking out his cell phone, he found he had two bars—a miracle in this place. He put in a call to Travis. The man’s computer skills had come in handy at Slade Security more than once, saving lives and even preventing terrorist attacks at times.
When he heard Travis answer, he started to rattle off orders. “I need you to get me everything you can on one Tayra Wells, born Simmons. Not sure if there’s another married name, so get me anything on marriage licenses and medical records. I also want a work up on Bethany Simmons, should be Tayra’s sister, but I need to know if she’s biological or not, and dig into her past. She ever been arrested, or even involved with anything that hints at illegal?”
Travis’ voice came back, dry as desert bones. “Afternoon to you too, boss. Yes, thanks for asking about our trip. We’re just about to land in San Diego, so it’ll probably take me an hour or two before I’m in front of a computer again.”
Slade leaned back in his chair, heard it give an ominous creak, and leaned forward again. “Didn’t I just buy you state-of-the-art laptops and tablets so you could be wired twenty-four-seven?”
“You did, and thanks, but what you’re talking about needs secure connections and a few favors called in. It’ll also take time, so give me twenty-four hours. But I can get you a fast brief right away.”
“Do that. Oh, Tayra has…had, a son named Jason. Get me whatever you have on his file, too.” Slade unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled them up to his elbows.
“Okay. And…Wells, this wouldn’t by chance be Brock’s ex?”
“It would. For now, I want Brock out of the loop. I’ll bring him in when…and if we need to. But he has his hands full right now, and…well, I’m not even sure what this is yet.”
“You’re thinking scam? Supposed sister shows up with supposed son? But she did her homework on Slade Security being one of the top firms employed by the rich and don’t-want-to-be-famous.”
“Could be.”
Travis gave a low whistle. “Sounds like fun. Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll get some files texted to you right away.”
Slade nodded. “Keep ‘em coming.”