Broken (25 page)

“Is she all right?” Berg asked, barging into Emma’s room without even knocking. She had spent so much time in that godforsaken hospital room she felt like part of the miserable little family.

“They think so,” Emma’s father, Alex, answered.

“And the baby?”

“They’re not sure, Alicia.” Alex had wrapped his arms around his torso as if he could physically hold himself together. “They managed to stabilize her very quickly, but she’s just off having tests so they can check the baby out further. There’s still a heartbeat, so that’s good news.”

Berg slumped into the nearest chair and breathed a sigh of relief.

If these poor people lose this baby, too . . .

“What happened?” she asked as Arena made himself comfortable in the chair next to hers.

“We don’t know. She was stable, so we took the opportunity to duck down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. Next thing you know, she’s coding.”

“Thank goodness Lizzy came in to see her,” Marilyn said softly. “She noticed Emma was turning blue and called in a nurse straight away. The baby may have been in danger for several minutes, though. They’re not sure.”

“Didn’t her life support machine indicate something was wrong? Shouldn’t there have been some kind of an alarm?”

“It didn’t go off, and they can’t give us an explanation as to why,” Alex said.

Berg had never seen anyone so resigned. Life had dealt such serious blows to him and his wife over the past four months that it almost seemed as if nothing could shake him anymore.

“They’re replacing the life support machine, and a nurse will be with her at all times from now on. We’re not going to take any chances with the baby. That’s my last ray of sunshine,” he said, apparently forgetting that his wife and remaining daughter stood not three feet away.

“About the father . . .” Berg stood to deliver the next round of surprising news to the family. “We think we’ve tracked him down.”

Alex jerked as if he’d been physically struck. “You found him? How?”

Elizabeth, having kept that particular secret to herself, looked stricken.

Berg felt sorry for the young woman and the flip side of favoritism that she had clearly endured her whole life. “Through our inquiries,” she said without any guilt. “It’s looking like it could be Emma’s boss.”

“We have his DNA for comparison. The lab’s running it now,” Arena said.

“Tim?” Alex asked, looking shocked for the first time in weeks. “She was seeing Tim? But he’s . . . married. She would never . . . it can’t be. She would’ve told me.” He paced back and forth, babbling. “I thought she was . . . we were best friends, she would have . . . how could she do this to me!” He stopped pacing and glanced at each member of his audience.

Unsure how to handle the awkward outburst, Berg stayed focused on the legalities. “Um, let’s wait and see what the lab says. We’ll know more then.”

“Well, I guess we needed to know. Do you think he’ll want custody?” Alex asked, looking worried.

“Let’s just see if he’s the father, and then we can go from there,” Berg repeated. No point in getting them upset for no reason. Emma could’ve been fucking the entire tristate area for all they knew.

Emma was wheeled back into the room.

“How is she?” at least three people, including Berg, asked.

“She’s okay,” the doctor said. “The baby, too.”

Emma’s parents’ bodies sagged as the relief washed over them.

“And I also know the sex of the baby,” the doctor said. “If that’s something you’d like to know?”

“Of course!” Emma’s father said, looking delighted.

Berg noted he didn’t even look at his wife, much less bother consulting her.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor said, smiling. “Emma’s nurse will be here soon for the first shift. But, fingers crossed, everything will be all right and we can get your granddaughter out in about five weeks.”

“A baby girl,” Alex whispered in awe. “We’ll call her Emma. Little baby Emma,” he cooed at his still daughter’s stomach.

“Well, congratulations,” Berg said. “We’ll leave you to it.” She had a bad feeling.

They exited the room and ran into Jay as he rushed around the corner.

“I just heard,” he said, looking worried. “How is she?”

“Whatever happened doesn’t seem to have set her back,” Berg answered.

“And the baby?”

“She’s fine, too.”

“She?”

“Yes, Emma’s having a baby girl. Her father has already named her Emma.”

“Wow. A little girl, hey? Cool,” Jay said, smiling. “You going to test Hudson’s DNA?”

“Yeah. But . . .” Berg wasn’t sure exactly how to ask what her gut was telling her. “I’m no expert on fathers, but do you guys think that the way Alex dotes over Emma is . . . normal? I mean, when we told him that Emma’s boss might be the baby’s father, he acted more like a jealous lover than a father.”

Arena shrugged. “No idea. I don’t have any sisters, and the only thing my father dotes on is the Cubs.”

Jay seemed to be the only expert of the bunch and his father had passed years before. “I have five sisters, and my father clearly adored all of them equally. He would tie himself in knots trying to give them all what they wanted. If you’re talking about how Alex clearly favors Emma over both Elizabeth and his wife, well . . . I thought that was a bit odd, too.”

“If Hudson’s not the father, I want the lab to run an extra test.”

“What?” Arena and Jay asked together.

“I want to know if the fetus has more family markers than it should.”

“You think Emma’s father is also the father of the baby?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe. There’s just something about the way he is with her. It’s like he’s blinded by her. When he’s with Emma, his wife and Elizabeth don’t even exist. I’m starting to feel really sorry for Elizabeth, actually.”

“Still. To suspect that he was doing his own daughter? Your world view is seriously fucked up, Berg,” Arena said.

“What do you expect?” Jay and Berg both asked and then flashed a pointed yet grim glance at the other.

Chapter Twenty-One

We were sitting with our backs against the world,

saying things that we thought but never heard.

Oh, who would have thought it would end up like this?

–The Script, “Before the Worst”

B
erg ducked into the Chinese restaurant alone, reassuring herself it was the food that brought her back to the Yum Cha and nothing else.

Grabbing the first cart that rolled by her, she took a few of the dishes and started eating without waiting for anything to cool.

She generally had to force herself to eat, but she had been running a lot, trying to clear her head, and she was unusually hungry tonight.

The late spring weather was turning hot, and as the restaurant warmed, Berg wished she could roll up her long sleeves, but her arms weren’t healed enough yet, and even then, the white scars were still evident if you looked hard enough. No, short sleeves were out.

She was just about to grab more plates as another hot cart rolled by when she saw them—Jay and ASA Maroney, walking into the restaurant, holding hands, and laughing together.

“Fuck!” she whispered, sinking down in her chair. “Please, God, don’t sit them here,” she prayed, willing the maître d’ to hear her.

But, of course, God certainly hadn’t shown up for her in the past so why would He start now?

The server brought the happy couple straight to her section as though she was a homing beacon.

Berg cursed her stupidity—it had been Jay who had introduced her to his favorite place and the fantastic food, after all.

Why wouldn’t he bring his new girlfriend here?

She should’ve anticipated it, but it still hurt. Clearly she was the only one who thought of it as their place.

“Berg?” Jay said, spying her and leading them over.

Next to him, Carla pressed her lips together. She looked about as pleased to see Berg as she would be at finding a zit on her perfectly smooth forehead.

“Er . . . hi, Jay, Carla,” she said, standing. “I was just finishing up.” She threw her money on the table and took off like a bullet from a gun. She was pretty sure neither one of them saw the tears that spilled over as she hit the door.

She looked around desperately for her car and then remembered she had left it at the station. After a very long day of interviews and following leads that went nowhere, she had planned on getting a quick meal and heading back there to comb through the information for more leads or inconsistencies.

Using words usually reserved for sailors and lumberjacks, she hailed the nearest cab and gave him an address she knew all too well.

Jay tried to concentrate on what Carla was saying.

They had been dating for weeks, and he was committed to her now, after all. He was even thinking of introducing her to his family. She was his way forward and out of the whole need to rescue unrescuable women. He was done with all that.

So why can’t I hear what she’s saying?

Why was it he only recalled the look on Berg’s face as she had fled the restaurant? He had only seen Berg cry once. Once, in three years, but he still knew that look.

Shake it off.

He drew in a long, deep breath, and as he exhaled he concentrated solely on his stunning date. She was saying something about Feeny and the asshole’s lawyer sniffing around to get Feeny’s confession kicked. How the case against him would fall apart if that happened since they had no other evidence, and the hitter was refusing to say who hired him.

Pay attention, man. This sounds like something I should know.

Besides, Berg was Arena’s problem now, not his. It didn’t matter that Arena hadn’t been with her tonight . . .

Damn it!

He had no idea how he was going to excuse himself from the date without Carla dumping his ass, but he wasn’t going to be able to let it go. He was worried about Berg. If she had her head on straight, she’d only run for twenty miles or so, but when she was upset, there was no telling what she would go and do.

As if by divine intervention, his phone pinged.

Carla heard it and thoughtfully fell silent long enough for him to check his messages.

It was an innocuous text from one of his sisters, but he pounced on the excuse anyway. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he said, standing. “It’s an emergency, I’ve got to go.”

“Anything you need an ASA for?” she said, folding her napkin, placing it neatly on the table, and swinging her legs out to stand as well.

“No, no.” He quickly waved her off. “Nothing we need an amazing ASA for. You sit, enjoy the meal,” he said as he threw a fifty down on the table, kissed her goodbye, and rushed out.

Berg was sitting at The Pub working on her third tequila shot. Beer just wasn’t cutting it.

A few of the young male students had tried their luck, but they had all crashed and burned. She was looking for some good, old-fashioned unconsciousness, something that got the picture of Jay and Carla holding hands out of her head.