Smolder, page 4
My body is rebelling. I haven’t been eating well since the whole Pat Lamone thing was dredged back up. Everything tastes kind of like sawdust. Not even as flavorful as sawdust, to be honest. Still, I have to keep my body going. Callie and I both do. I rise and open the fridge. Bacon, eggs, toast. None of it sounds good.
So I head to the cookie jar.
Chocolate chip cookies. Not the most nutritional food for breakfast, but they actually sound good. I pull two of Mom’s giant cookies out of the jar, place them on a napkin, and bring them back to the table.
I take a bite, letting the soft and buttery goodness explode on my tongue.
Has there ever been a problem in the world that a chocolate chip cookie couldn’t solve?
I used to think there wasn’t.
Until Pat Lamone and Brittany Sheraton came back to town.
“Hey.” Callie follows a scampering Dusty—her rescue—into the kitchen. After she lets her dog out to join mine, she sits down next to me. “Cookies?”
“Yeah. The only thing that doesn’t taste like complete shit to me.”
“I hear you.” She grabs my second cookie and takes a bite.
“Hey!”
“Sorry.” She rises, walks to the counter, brings back the cookie jar, and sets it in front of me. “Here you go.”
I can’t help a slight chuckle. “Looks about right.” I take another cookie out of the jar as I polish off my first.
“Thinking about Brock?”
I am, but I hesitate to admit it. I don’t want to look as self-absorbed as I feel. “No. Just about our situation.”
“Yeah. Me too.” She holds her left hand in front of her, and the track lighting in the kitchen bounces rainbow spikes off her orange sapphire engagement ring. “I’m on top of the world. Part of me is anyway.”
“You should be,” I say. “Don’t let Pat Lamone ruin this for you.”
“You’re right.”
“So… What did you think of Sadie?”
“She really didn’t make an impression on me.”
I take a bite of my second cookie more harshly than I mean to, and for a split second, it’s Sadie’s head that I’m ripping off. “Brock probably screwed her last night.”
“Probably.”
Nice. My sister doesn’t even try to assuage what could be my fears. True, she doesn’t know what I’m feeling. Heck, I’m not even sure what I’m feeling.
“I’m still considering… You know.”
“I know you are, Ror. Just because I tell you not to do something doesn’t mean you’re not going to do it. It probably means the opposite.”
“I respect your opinion, Cal,” I say.
“I know that. But you’re Rory Pike. You’re going to do your own thing no matter what anyone tells you. Even me.”
Callie’s not wrong. “I just want a kid badly.”
“I know. There’s no way I’m going to talk you out of it. I won’t even try.”
I scoff. “Yeah, you will.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I will. But seriously. I think there might be a better choice than Brock Steel.”
“You might be right. We don’t have a sperm bank here in Snow Creek though.”
“Sure we do. Go have a one-nighter with someone.”
I lift my eyebrows. This isn’t Callie speaking. More like the anti-Callie. “Seriously?”
“I’m kidding, Ror. Man, what’s with you? Or both of us, for that matter? This whole Pat Lamone thing has really messed us up.”
“No kidding. And for the record, I happen to think Brock Steel is of high genetic quality. Better than I’d get at any sperm bank.”
“I know you do. You’re probably right. The Steels are hardy stock for sure. But it’s a big step for him. He’s only twenty-four. I don’t want you to get your hopes up just to have them dashed. We both know Brock is only looking for one thing from you, and it’s not fatherhood.”
I shove another bite of cookie into my mouth. Sawdust again, with a chocolate edge. “You’re right. I guess I will check out sperm banks. Do you think there’s one in Grand Junction?”
“Probably. Let’s research it today.”
“Sounds good.” I rise.
“Where you going?”
“Pour some coffee, will you? I’m getting my laptop.”
“It’s not even seven o’clock.”
“So what? I’m going to research sperm.” A few moments later, I return with my laptop and fire up. “What do I type into the search engine? Sperm bank?”
“That’s as good a place as any to start,” Callie says.
Good enough. Sperm bank Grand Junction Colorado.
“I’ll be damned. There are a few.” I tap on the first option. “Check this out. They’ve got their profiles online.”
Callie scoots her chair closer to me so we can both see the screen.
“I can choose hair color, eye color, height, weight. My God, there are photos. Intelligence quotient. Hobbies, likes, and dislikes.”
“It’s a smorgasbord.” Callie takes a sip of coffee and then another bite of cookie.
“I like brown hair and brown eyes. I mean, that’s what I have. That would virtually guarantee that our kid would have brown hair and brown eyes.”
“Not necessarily. Brown hair and brown eyes are both dominant traits. Most people with brown hair and brown eyes carry the genes for the recessive traits as well, so you could end up having a blond-haired and blue-eyed child, even with a brown-haired and brown-eyed guy.”
“For God’s sake, Callie. Can you turn your brain off for one minute?”
“Hey, I’m just telling you. If you want to have a child who has brown hair and brown eyes, there’s absolutely no way to guarantee it. On the other hand, if you had blond hair and blue eyes, and you chose a blond-haired and blue-eyed guy, your kid would have blond hair and blue eyes. Except it might have green eyes, since green are more recessive than blue.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I don’t really care what color hair and eyes my child has.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said. All I care about is that I have a happy and healthy child.”
“Good. All these guys have been well vetted. Any of them will give you just as beautiful a kid as Brock Steel would.”
I nod. My sister’s right, as she usually is. I get so sick of her being right all the time. It’s totally annoying.
“Unless…” she continues.
“Unless what?”
“Unless… Your interest in Brock Steel is more than just genetics related.”
“Come on, Cal. You know me better than that.”
Callie doesn’t reply.
And I find myself wondering…
What about Brock Steel?
Certainly not relationship material. His interest in Sadie last night proved that, not that I had any grand delusions about him.
But damn… I wanted to be the object of his attention last night. I was nearly ready to bare my breasts to the whole bar to get him moving toward me.
Clearly, I’m just horny. Horny for a man in particular since it’s been so long, and Brock Steel is all man.
And he can kiss. Fuck it all, the man can kiss.
And I do love kissing.
But no.
Brock Steel is not for me. Not in any way other than a potential sperm donor.
No matter what ridiculous feelings I’m having.
Chapter Eight
Brock
I was right. Jacking off during the wee hours of the morning didn’t help. Rory Pike plagued my dreams, and I woke up in a fucking cold sweat.
And now?
I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Grand Junction with Donny, waiting to meet some nurse who may have poisoned my uncle in the hospital.
As much as I want Rory Pike, all I’m thinking about now is that old barn.
To be more specific—the sickeningly sweet smell in the old barn.
I can’t say I’m unhappy that Donny called the trip off today so we could meet this nurse who has information about Uncle Talon’s case. He wanted both Dale and me to come along, but Dale’s finishing up the move to his new place, so it’s just me.
I have a bad feeling about this.
A really bad feeling as Donny and I sit at an out-of-the-way coffee shop in the city.
“That’s her,” Donny says. “It’s got to be.”
I look toward the doorway where a woman wearing dark glasses and a scarf around her head enters. She’s also wearing scrubs, which is kind of a giveaway…although I suppose people other than doctors and nurses wear scrubs.
Donny nods toward her, and she approaches the table.
“Ms. Murray? Janine?” Donny says.
She nods.
Donny stands and holds out the chair between us. “I’m Donny Steel, and this is my cousin Brock Steel.”
I rise as well. “A pleasure.”
Ms. Murray simply sits.
Then…silence for a few moments.
A few very long moments.
Will she actually use her vocal cords at some point during this meeting?
“I suppose it’s easiest to just begin.” I force out a smile.
She looks at me and then at Donny. Then at me again.
“I want you to know,” she finally says, “I would never intentionally harm a patient.”
The word intentionally isn’t lost on me.
And that sick feeling I’ve had since the evening at the barn intensifies.
“That’s not exactly true, is it?” From Donny.
Which surprises the hell out of me. He’s going right in for the kill.
I get it. I do. This is his father. I’d be doing the same for my own father.
What surprises me is that Donny isn’t normally like me or my father or Dale. He’s usually a little more subtle.
Apparently not today.
Our companion turns pink. I want to tell Donny to go easy on her, even though she apparently doesn’t deserve it. We’re not going to get anything out of her if he freaks her out to the point where she stands and walks away.
When neither of them says anything, I speak. “Just start at the beginning.”
The nurse nods again. “I got a phone call through the nurses’ station. They scared me. They said they would hurt my baby.”
Donny remains stoic. “You have a baby?”
“Yes. Maria. She’s six months old.”
This can’t be leading to anything good.
“Go ahead, Ms. Murray,” I say.
“Honestly, I don’t know how this happened. My mother stays with Maria during the day. But the person on the other end of the line said to call him from a secure line at a certain time. We do have secure lines at the hospital, so I had no choice. I wrote down the information.”
“All right. When did you call him back?” Donny asks.
“I found a line open during my break. I told my supervisor I had to make a personal phone call and that my cell phone was dead. So in private, I made the call. They said…”
“What did they say?” I ask, trying not to sound too threatening.
And believe me, I have to try. I’m starting to get very pissed off. I’m sitting across from the person who poisoned my uncle. Sure, she didn’t mean to. Sure, she was probably forced to. Doesn’t change the fact that she did it.
Usually, Donny will play good cop to my bad cop. But he seems to be in a bad cop mood, so it’s up to me.
“I was told…” She clasps her hand to her mouth. “I can’t believe they somehow did this,” she chokes out.
“It’s okay.” Again I force my voice to remain calm. “Take as long as you need to.”
As long as it’s within the next few seconds.
“The person on the other end of the line, he said—”
“So it was a man?” Donny says.
“I think so. Or a woman with a low voice. But it wasn’t really low like yours. But it could definitely have been a man’s voice.”
“Okay,” I say. “Go on.”
“This person—they said I would find something in Maria’s diaper. In her diaper!”
Donny and I both drop our jaws.
I try to process what I’ve just heard as a Ping-Pong ball ricochets around in my heart. Whoever this degenerate is stuffed something in a baby’s diaper?
An innocent baby?
I’m not sure why I’m surprised, given what I just recently found out about Dale and Donny’s past before they came to the ranch. Whoever we’re dealing with doesn’t mind using kids.
That nausea that I’m keeping at bay? I’m not sure how much longer I can. Already I sense acid gurgling up my esophagus.
Donny clears his throat. “How did he…?”
“I don’t know. My mother never takes her eyes off Maria. Perhaps she got a phone call or something. I never asked her because I was afraid to say anything to anyone.”
“What did you find in your baby’s diaper?” Donny asks.
“It was a note. And a vial of something. The note said I should put the contents of the vial into Talon Steel’s food.”
“The atropine,” I say.
“I didn’t know what it was. But I was afraid not to. They said they’d hurt my baby, and obviously they got to her. Somehow they put that in her diaper. My God, what if it had broken? My baby could have been poisoned. Or cut by the glass of the vial.”
“Didn’t they wrap the vial in anything?” I ask.
“Yes, in some gauzy fabric. And then the note was wrapped around it. But still…”
“The note was wrapped around the gauze? Or around the vial?”
“Around the vial,” she says. “Then gauze around that, and then plastic wrap around the gauze.”
Of course. Because if the baby soiled herself, the note and vial needed to be safe.
My God, who the hell are we dealing with?
Someone who thinks things through, and someone who has no qualms about using innocent children.
In other words, a total psychopath.
“So you found the substance.” Donny makes notes on his phone. “And you didn’t know what it was.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even think about what it could be. I was worried about my baby.”
“We understand that,” I say.
“Do you? Do you really understand? Somehow they got to my baby. She’s six months old!” Ms. Murray darts her gaze around the coffee shop. She spoke too loudly, and now she’s afraid.
“I know this is hard for you,” Donny says, finally reverting to his calming and soothing persona. “Brock and I are both so sorry that these heinous people involved your child.”
This gets to me.
I love my uncle. Truly, I do.
But he’s a sixty-year-old man.
Whoever these people are, they have no problem using an infant.
This just got a whole lot more sinister. Psychopath is too weak of a word.
“All right,” I say. “Please, just tell us the rest. But first of all, is Maria all right?”
Ms. Murray nods and hiccups. “Yes, she’s okay. I couldn’t tell my mother what happened, but I did tell her not to go anywhere and to keep the doors locked at all times.”
“I’m so sorry,” Donny says. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to be afraid for your child in your own home.”
“It’s awful. And I have to work. If I don’t work, I can’t take care of Maria. And my mother.”
“Does your mother live with you?”
Ms. Murray shakes her head. “She has an apartment a couple miles away.”
“And do you live in an apartment or a house?” I ask.
“It’s a small house. It once belonged to my father. He and my mom are divorced. And now he’s…”
“Go on,” Donny says.
“He passed away a few years ago. He would have loved Maria.”
She’s digressing. I’m impatient, but I hold my tongue. This is a frightened mother. If we force her to go more quickly, she may run.
Luckily, she starts speaking again. “I didn’t know what to do. They already got to my baby somehow. I don’t know how they got past Mom. But they did. So I did the only thing I could do. I put the contents of the vial in Mr. Steel’s food, and then I called them back and said it was done.”
“Do you still have the number?” I ask.
She pushes a piece of paper toward me. “This is it.”
“And have they contacted you again?” From Donny.
She shakes her head. “You’re not going to have me arrested, are you?”
“No, we’re not going to have you arrested,” Donny says. “But we are going to need your cooperation.”
“There’s nothing more I can do. I never saw the guy.”
“Would you recognize the voice if you heard it again?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I might.”
“We may ask you to listen to some voices,” I say. “Also, we’re going to have to take a look at your house.”
Ms. Murray drops her jaw open.
“You want to be safe, don’t you?” Donny says. “These people got into your home somehow, got something into your baby’s diaper. An innocent child who can’t recognize them out of a lineup. Who can’t even say what happened to her.”
Ms. Murray gasps. “Oh my God. You don’t think they did anything…to her.”
“No,” Donny says quickly.
I force my expression to remain stoic. How can Donny say that after what happened to him in his childhood? But I get it. He doesn’t know for sure, but he doesn’t want to alarm the mother any more than she already is.
“But it might be a good idea to have Maria looked at by a pediatrician,” Donny continues.
Ms. Murray gasps again.
“There’s no need to be alarmed,” I say. “But it’s always good to be sure. If Maria seems fine to you, if you didn’t notice any marks on her, they probably didn’t do anything other than change her diaper and put the substance inside.”
Ms. Murray nods and sniffles, and then she grabs a tissue out of her handbag and unceremoniously blows her nose. Tears well in her eyes. To be honest, I’m surprised she made it this far without sobbing.
“Listen, Ms. Murray—Janine,” Donny says. “I am going to find out who did this. I am going to find out who tried to poison my father. I have unlimited resources and a brother who’s stronger and meaner than I am. We will not let this lie. We will find out who’s behind this, and we will make sure they pay. Especially someone so horrible that they would use an innocent six-month-old baby.”
