Undeniably Yours (29 page)

His mother was dead.

His grandmother was dying.

His father was in prison.

There were no other relatives to take him in.

Dustin would become a ward of the state… Sure, he’d probably be adopted again, but when? How long would it take? How traumatized would he be after being pulled from a family he clearly loved after living with them for six months?

Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them away.

If I told Aiden I’d found the kids, he’d be bound by law to do the right thing, to return them to the state.

I couldn’t do that to this little boy. Even though it was legally wrong, I fully believed it was the morally right decision.

“I’ve got to go,” Aiden said. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Definitely. Dovie wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He laughed and hung up.

“Something wrong?” Patty asked as I sat down next to her again. “You looked mighty concerned at the end of that conversation.”

“Just wrestling with right and wrong,” I said honestly.

She patted my hand. “You’re speaking of Dustin’s situation?”

“Yes,” I said, not elaborating about the other children. I’d tackle those cases one at a time. Let my moral compass guide me.

Patty and Sean were the only people who knew I’d found Dustin. I’d gone to her with my findings and recommendation to keep Dustin with his adoptive family—and she agreed on one condition. She wanted to see him again and give him his blanket. We’d concocted a lame plan to get him the afghan, deciding to approach the family and randomly gift the blanket to the little boy…

“Look at him,” she said, her voice catching.

He’d fallen asleep on Cecelia, their bodies shaded by a large umbrella. The wind ruffled his blond hair, and his full cheeks were flushed pink. Cecelia rubbed his back, soothing him even in sleep.

“He’s loved.” A tear slipped from Patty’s eye. “He’s had that taken away from him once. It would be a travesty to allow it to happen again.”

My heart felt like it was breaking with the weight of my decision, but I knew she was right.

“Come on,” Patty said, standing up and clutching the handle of her oxygen tank. “We should go. I’m tired, and it’s a long drive. I’ve seen enough here to last me…forever.” Shuffling, she headed for my car.

“What about the blanket?” I asked. It was draped over her arm.

She lifted her chin. “I’ve decided to keep it. So I’ll always have a piece of him with
me
.”

I reached out and touched her arm. “You’re sure?”

“Very.”

Letting out a breath, I looked back at the little boy one last time. He stirred in his sleep, and his arms flopped to his sides. He was completely relaxed. At peace. Safe.

It was how all children should feel.

The weight on my chest lifted.

I linked arms with Patty and helped her to the car. I’d just turned the key in the ignition when my phone rang.

It was Sean.

When I answered, he said, “You’re not going to believe what I found, Ms. Valentine.”

“What?” I asked, intrigued by the smug tone.

“Kira’s flash drive.”

L
ater that night, long after the ceremonial shovel of dirt had been pitched, the party was still going strong. My garden looked fantastic. Tents housed tables of food (much too much), and twinkle lights stretched from one outdoor light to another, giving off a whimsical vibe. A portable dance floor had been set up, the scent of flowers and music filled the air. Dovie and Mac were doing the Hustle.

There might be evil people in the world, but here tonight there were only good ones gathered. This…was joy.

A sky full of glittering stars and a full moon hanging low over the ocean only added to the fanciful ambiance as I carried a slice of cheesecake up the porch steps and sat in the swing, setting it swaying.

Preston stuck her foot out, dragging it against the floorboards. The swing stopped abruptly, nearly pitching me off it. “No swinging. I’ve been getting motion sick lately.”

“Then a swing might not be the best place to sit.”

She pursed her lips. “No one asked you.”

I held up the plate. “I brought you cheesecake.”

The look in her eye softened, but she shook her head. “No thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s the last piece, and it has the most amazing strawberry drizzle…”

She grabbed the plate. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

“You know I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t risk your health. The baby’s.”

She forked the cake and stuffed a bite into her mouth. “Doesn’t make me feel any less betrayed. Half the papers in town have already taken this story and run with it. Even if I did an article now, it certainly wouldn’t be front page news.”

I bit back a comment about how “half the papers” in town meant two. “I know.”

Looking back on it all, I was extremely grateful Preston hadn’t been part of this case. She was a damn good writer who probed her stories deeply. She might have figured out that I was keeping a big secret.

“What about those missing kids?” she asked. “There’s still a story there.”

My father had taken charge of the music for the night, which promised interesting selections. When “At Last” started playing, I had to smile as my father pulled my mother into a tight embrace. It appeared their doomed relationship had been given a reprieve.

I shrugged and tried to look innocent. “I’m working on it, but I don’t think it’s healthy for you to do a piece on missing kids. Do you?”

Preston glanced at Aiden, who danced closely with Em, whispering in her ear. She floated around the floor, a smile plastered to her face. “Do you think Aiden would let me do a story on him and Ava?”

“No.”

She shoved another bite of cheesecake into her mouth.

Ava was sound asleep in Raphael’s arms, and he looked quite pleased to have her there. Maggie was being twirled around the dance floor by Cutter.

“What about Jeremy Cross? Think Dr. Doolittle will throw me a bone?”

“No.”

Across the lawn, a competitive game of horseshoes was being played. Jeremy versus Marisol. Both looked like they were playing to the death. I wasn’t ready to give up on them.

Orlinda was deep in conversation with Suz Ruggieri, Valentine Inc.’s right-hand woman, and her husband, Teddy, was playing volleyball with Sean’s brother Sam and his family.

Nearby, Sean was chucking a rubber chicken for Mac’s dog Rufus, Scout, and Thoreau. So far, Thoreau had almost been trampled five times. Sean, eight.

“This sucks,” Preston said. “It’s the story of the year, and I have nothing. Nada. Zippo. It’s your fault. I had been thinking about naming the baby after you and everything. But now? No way.”

“The baby is a boy.”

She took another bite. “So?”

“What were you going for? Lucifer?”

A smile tugged the corner of her mouth. “Maybe. And no fair making me smile. You owe me, Lucy Valentine. Big time.”

“How big?” I asked.

“Huge. A cover story for the
Mad Blotter
. So keep working on that sniffing thing you do, and see something I can work with.”

“Huge, you say.”

“Enormous.”

“I see.”

She shifted to look at me and narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“What?” I echoed.

Her eyes widened. “What have you got? You’ve got something!”

“Maybe.”

She jiggled my arm. “Come on.”

“Promise not to name the baby Lucifer.”

Crossing her heart, she said, “I promise.”

I pulled a flash drive out of my pocket and held it up. “It’s a copy of Kira’s. I think you can do justice to the information on it.” The original had already been handed over to Aiden. Sean had found it while feeding the dogs. It had been in the bag of dog food Morgan Creighton had brought over.

The flash drive I held out to Preston held only the information on the other story Kira had been investigating. A top-secret exposé.

About a certain former hockey player who was suspected of running a banned-substance ring. Kira’s notes named names. Big names. Not just in hockey, but across all New England sports.

Kira had only been dating Trey to get an inside peek at his world, to get a story.

It made me feel so much better to know that they’d been using each other.

“What is it?” Preston asked, setting her empty plate on the porch railing and grabbing the flash drive.

“You’ll see,” I said coyly.

“I have to find a computer…” She glanced around.

“Not tonight,” I said. “Tonight is for celebrating.”

“Celebrating a big scoop!”

“Preston…”

“Fine,” she grumped.

I stood up. “I’m going to get a piece of cheesecake.”

Her pale brows dipped. “I thought you said that was the last piece.”

“I fibbed.” I motioned toward the house and smiled. “My laptop’s on my bed.”

She popped off the seat, looking healthier than I’d seen her in a long while. I moseyed to the dessert table, and was quickly cornered by my mother.

“Jeremy and Marisol, eh?” she bumped me with her elbow. “I’d say there was still hope.”

I set a piece of cheesecake on a plate, and glanced over at the horseshoe pit. Marisol was up in Jeremy’s face, arguing while pointing downward—some sort of horseshoe dispute. Her short black bob swung about her face as she gestured. He stood stock still, his arms folded, and kept shaking his head. The more he shook, the more animated she became. If he wasn’t careful, she might toss him over the cliff. “Made for each other.” I elbowed her. “You and Dad?”

She bit into a cream puff and tried to look uninterested. “He’s not half bad.”

It was the other half of him I worried about, but that was a concern for another day.

“I’ve been thinking, LucyD,” Mum said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“My cottage doesn’t need a solarium.”

She laughed, and the sound filled me with happiness. “No, not that, but since you mentioned it…”

I smiled. “No.”

Finishing off the cream puff, she said, “I’ve been thinking about that young man.”

“Which one?”

“The one who was here the other day.” She waved her hands—she was a hand talker. “You know, the one whose mother lost her job…”

“Jarvis.”

“Right. Jarvis.”

“What about him?” I asked.

“If it’s not too meddlesome, I’d like to help his mother find a job. I have friends who are always hiring. Surely, we can find something to help them out.”

“I don’t think it’s meddlesome at all, but she already found a job.”

“Wonderful! Where?”

“At the CFC office.”

Mum tipped her head. “Oh?”

I confessed to asking Elliman to pull some strings now that he was back on the job. Sue me.

“You get your meddling skills from me,” she said. “You big softie.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Now, about this solarium,” she said. “We could easily add it to the east side of the—”

“No.”

Laughing, she walked off, accepting Dad’s invitation for another dance.

I was about to join Sean and the dogs when I was shanghaied by Dovie.

“I’ve only mostly forgiven you,” she said, her color high from dancing. Her green eyes were full of life, and her long snow-white hair cascaded down her back in beautiful waves. “After all, you were only trying to protect Preston…”

She was going somewhere with this. I needed to head her off at the pass. “Did you hear how I fought off that crazed killer in the Shaw’s parking lot with only a can of whipped cream?”

Thin slivers of silvery eyebrows rose. “You’re conveniently forgetting the tire iron, LucyD.”

“Post-traumatic stress.”

“Be that as it may,” she said, “I feel as though there’s only one way of making this up to me.”

I sighed. I should have seen this coming. “Don’t you have enough babies in your life? You have Lucifer and Ava…”

“Lucifer?”

“Preston and Cutter’s son.”

She looked flustered for a second, then snapped out of it. “Don’t try to distract me. Besides, I’ll barely see Ava now that Em is moving in with Aiden.”

They’d made the announcement earlier, and also moved up the timeline of their wedding. She was going to take a semester off until everything settled down a bit. She and Aiden both wanted to forge a new kind of normal for Ava. It was strange how life worked out sometimes. A year ago Em had been working as a doctor and engaged to another man…

“Still, that’s two whole babies,” I said.

She cupped my chin and smiled sappily. “But they’re not
your
babies, Lucy.”

I looked at Sean, caught his eye. His head wound had healed nicely, and his hair had grown in enough to cover the scar. He was no longer a mess, but he was still gorgeous. And mine. “Maybe. Someday.”

“Soon,” she pressed. “You know what they say. New house, new baby.”

“I don’t think that counts for renovations.”

“I think it does,” she said stubbornly.

Desperate for rescue I looked around and found Sean still watching me. I mouthed, “Help me.”

With a smile on his face, he quickly strode over and grabbed my hand. He whirled me away from Dovie and onto the dance floor.

Dovie yelled, “We’ll revisit this conversation, LucyD!”

Sean said, “Do I want to know?”

“Babies.”

“Ah. I should have known that.”

“Yes. Dovie’s nothing if not consistent.”

“Strangely enough, it doesn’t bother me anymore,” he said.

“Dovie?”

Laughing, he said, “The thought of babies.”

“Me, either.” Heaven help us if Dovie found out.

Stars twinkled as Sean pulled me close. Holding me tightly, he led me around the dance floor. I’d skipped the boot altogether tonight and opted for flats but still felt clumsy and awkward as Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” came on.

I immediately glanced over at my father, the deejay. He winked at me, showing a rare glimpse of his tender side. He knew I loved this song. In fact, I often thought if Sean and I got married that it should be played for our first dance.

If
. If we got married…

No, no, no. No
if
.

When
.

I was going to start thinking positively.