He shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”
She groaned. “King.”
“Baby, I got alligators biting on my ass right now. I don’t know. And I got three orders you need to serve before they get cold.”
Frustrated, she shoved the slip of paper in her pocket. Bobby came down the backstairs, a new book in hand. “Eva, what is this word?”
Her head spun and she glanced at the word marked by his pudgy fingertip. “Sound it out like I showed you.”
“Te. Te. Technology.”
“That’s right.”
He smiled up at her, such trust in his eyes. And again, she feared for Bobby. With someone like Connor Donovan snooping around, no telling how long she could keep the boy safe.
King barely noticed the heat from his stove, the noise of the exhaust fan or the rumble of the crowd in his restaurant. For a moment, he stood as still as stone, replaying what Eva had just told him. A reporter had tracked Eva down to his restaurant. Reporters meant attention and attention often led to trouble.
Slowly, he stirred the stew. He’d spent a lot of time and resources pulling events together and now that shit head Donovan was going to muck it up. His first inclination was to track the guy down and beat the piss out of him.
Which might provide King with a moment’s satisfaction but in the long run would only cause him trouble.
King shoved out a breath. He’d weathered a lot of shit in his life. So had Eva. So had Bobby. They all could survive an article or two. And then when the chaos died down again, people would forget about them and he could follow through with the next step.
Kristen sat in the park by the river staring at the slow, meandering waters of the Potomac. A gentle spring breeze flowed past. Couples strolled the path. Kids on bikes rolled past. Laughter swirled around her head.
She’d been thrown off by Eva Rayburn’s visit but had planned to fly to New York, more determined than ever to get out of town and forget all about Alexandria. But a few hours ago, she’d gotten a call on her private cell.
“Do you want to see your baby?” the caller had said.
Your baby.
“How’d you get this number?”
Laughter crackled. “Friends. Do you want to know about the baby?”
“I don’t have a baby,” she’d said.
“Yes, you do. Only, he’s not a baby now, is he?”
She’d gripped the phone silent, unable to speak and unable to hang up.
“He’ll be in the Riverside Park tomorrow about two if you want to see him.”
The caller had hung up, leaving her dazed and rattled. As much as she’d wanted to leave town, she’d been unable to get on that plane.
Now, here she sat on a park bench staring at the old worn photo in her hand. She’d carried the picture tucked deep inside her wallet for over a decade and the frayed edges reflected the wear and tear.
She traced the lines of the newborn’s face.
Kristen would have been so much better off if she’d never met Josiah Cross.
During that year she’d made a series of bad decisions, starting with pursuing Josiah Cross. He’d been considered the catch and she’d wanted what she’d perceived as the best. “Be careful what you wish for,” her mother used to say. They’d been dating four months when she’d found out she was pregnant. She’d hated and resented a lot of things in her life, but she’d loved her son from the moment she’d known he was inside her. She’d have dealt with the devil to save him.
“Sign the paper, Kristen. “ Her mother’s urgent whisper still echoed in her head. “Sign it!”
“Mom, he’s my son,” she’d said, crying.
“That baby is going to ruin your life, Kristen. Honey, we want you to go to graduate school, to marry well and to have a promising career. ”
“A lot of women have babies out of wedlock and raise them.” And with Josiah dead, she’d be free to raise her son.
Her mother gently stroked her hair. “That’s not an option for people like us. More is expected of us.”
Through watery eyes she looked up at her mother, feeling her father’s intense stare from across the room. “He’s your grandson.”
“I’ll cut you off completely if you keep him,” her father said. “Sign the papers.”
Her mother smiled weakly. “He’ll be better off. You’re making the right decision.”
Better off.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Kristen.” The voice came from behind her.
Swiping away the tears, she turned. “You’re the one that called me.”
“I have news of your son.”
Kristen rose. “Tell me.”
“He’s over here. Follow me.”
“You found him?”
“Yes. I’ve got to take him to his parents, but you can see him before I do.”
Oh, God, but she wanted to just see him. How many nights had she lain awake wondering what he looked like? Did he have her nose? How much of Josiah was in him? She’d moved heaven and earth to see that Josiah would never be in the child’s life.
Kristen had done so much to keep her son safe.
Since Eva’s visit, she’d been plagued with worries that Eva would remember the details of the fire.
Had Eva figured it out?
Kristen stood, her legs unsteady and her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands trembled with a heady excitement. Worries about her secret, the murders, even her upcoming marriage all faded as she thought about her son.
“He’s in the van by the playground,” the caller said, pointing.
Kristen looked ahead to the black van. “What’s his name?”
The van door automatically opened. “Ask him yourself.”
Kristen moved toward the van and leaned into it, searching the seats for her son. At first she thought she might be missing something, and then she realized he wasn’t there. Anger burned through her. “What kind of game are you playing? ”
A sharp needle jabbed into her back and she could feel the hot rush of fluid into her body. In a matter of seconds, her mind slipped into blackness.
Chapter 18
Tuesday, April 11, 8:00 A.M.
Eva arrived at the law offices of Wellington and James just after eight. She’d opted to walk the ten blocks, hoping she’d have time to soothe her temper. She buzzed the front bell.
The receptionist looked at her on the video monitor.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m delivering a subpoena for Luke Fraser, LTF Processing.” The white lie would get her inside.
“Sure.”
The door buzzed once and Eva yanked open the front door. In the reception area, she immediately felt out of her depth. Rich carpets, old world paintings on the wall and crystal lamps created the impression of money.
“What do I need to sign?” the receptionist said.
Eva lifted her chin, not bothering to slow her pace. “I’m actually here to see Angie Carlson.”
The woman shook her head. “I’ll sign for her.”
“No worries. I’m her sister.” She moved toward the hallway that led to the back. “Which office is hers?”
The woman arched a brow. “Angie doesn’t have a sister. And if you don’t stop right now I’m calling the cops.”
“You do that.” She glanced in an office on her left.
“Look, I’ve known Angie for a year and she’s never mentioned a sister.”
“She’s got one and she’s just about ready to find out how pissed she really is.”
“That’s it,” the woman said, bustling ahead of Eva. “Get out.”
“Nope. Angie!”
The older woman hustled into a side office and picked up a phone. The cops would no doubt be here in minutes.
“Angie!”
Seconds later Angie emerged from the office at the back of the hallway. Hope and confusion flickered in her eyes. “Eva.”
“You might want to talk to your receptionist. She’s calling the cops on me.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Iris! Don’t call the cops.”
Iris hung up her phone and appeared at the end of the hallway. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“She says she’s your sister.”
Angie nodded. “She is.”
Iris arched a brow as her gaze shifted to Eva and then back to Angie. She didn’t say anything but Eva guessed that Angie had some explaining to do.
Angie motioned Eva toward her office. “Come in here.”
Eva moved inside the office, clutching the strap of her backpack. Angie’s office was just as elegant as the front office. “I know you’re pissed about me not calling you, but did you have to dish dirt to your writer boyfriend?”