Guarding His Secret Son, page 7
“You need more sleep. I’ll take a turn.” Cradling the baby in her arms, she took the diaper bag into her room, using her hip to close the connecting door so that Garrett could fall back to sleep.
She truly didn’t mind changing Micah and then making another bottle for him. The baby instantly quieted as she fed him, his dark gaze clinging to hers.
“You are so very precious,” she whispered, her heart full of love for this tiny baby. “And I’m very glad you seem to be eating well.” Up until now, it hadn’t bothered her that she’d taken Micah directly to Garrett without having a doctor examine him. At the time, she’d been more concerned about his safety. Not to mention, women had been delivering children on their own for years without having a doctor in attendance.
But Micah should be seen by a pediatrician, and soon. Her expertise was delivering babies and caring for new mothers postdelivery. Her clinical practice didn’t include follow-up appointments related to an infant’s ongoing health.
Her thoughts turned to Rebecca. In reviewing her steps upon Rebecca’s arrival, she couldn’t come up with anything else she could have done to save the young woman’s life. Especially not after she’d placed the needle to relieve her acute tension pneumothorax.
Still, the events of that night, followed by the subsequent gunfire, was troubling. She clutched Micah close. Garrett would protect them, and he knew she’d do the same. Protect this innocent child with her own life, if necessary.
The way any mother would.
* * *
Garrett must have fallen back to sleep, because when he awoke, bright sunlight streamed in through the motel-room windows. He sat up, running his hand through his dark brown hair. He’d stayed up with Micah for too long, but he couldn’t deny the sheer wonder at how he and Rebecca had created the beautiful baby.
He still felt guilty about spending the night with Rebecca, but having Micah softened the edges, making him realize how blessed he was to have a son.
After washing up in the bathroom, he took a minute to call Sheriff Liam Harland. His boss answered on the first ring.
“Harland.”
“It’s Garrett. I’m sorry to say I need a short leave of absence.” He thought about how much to tell him, then decided it was best to come all the way clean. “I have a son, Liam. And his mother was shot right before she gave birth. She didn’t make it, but the gunmen showed up at the sheriff’s department and then again at my house. I need to keep Micah and the midwife who delivered him safe.”
“A son? Congrats!” Trust Liam to look on the bright side first. “I’m sorry to hear about the gunmen, though. And the loss of the baby’s mother. What can I do to help?”
He was humbled by Liam’s willingness to pitch in. “We’re safe now, so all I need is time off. To figure out what’s going on and to bond with my son.”
“Of course. That’s a given. Take as much time as you need,” Liam assured him. “And know this—we’re here for you. It doesn’t matter that this is our busy time. You’re family. We’ll do whatever we can to support you.”
“Thanks.” He was blessed to have Liam as his boss. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Okay, take care.” Liam ended the call.
After pocketing his phone, he turned toward the connecting doorway. The power bar he’d eaten in the middle of the night was long gone, and his stomach rumbled with hunger. Peeking into Liz’s room, he found her sleeping in the chair, Micah on the floor beside her.
She was so beautiful, he had to force himself to focus his attention on his son. Last night, he’d been determined not to take advantage of Liz’s kindness. But when she’d come to take Micah, he’d gratefully let her feed him so he could get more badly needed sleep.
How did single parents do it? These past twenty-four hours had made him realize how difficult some people had it.
It was humbling to know God had blessed him with this baby. He made a silent promise not to disappoint Him—and that meant letting go of his anger over Jason’s untimely death.
And some of his own guilt, too.
“Good morning.” Liz’s husky voice drew his gaze from his son. Her smile sent his pulse into high gear.
“Good morning.” He cleared his throat, hoping to sound normal. “I appreciate you letting me sleep in.”
“Of course.” She glanced at Micah, then stood. “How long can we stay here?”
“Checkout time is eleven. We have two hours.” He frowned. “I would feel better if we moved on to a new location after we grab something to eat.”
“Okay.” She didn’t argue his proposed plan. She stretched, then added, “I would love breakfast.”
He grinned. “A woman after my own heart. Should we wait until Micah wakes up?”
“No need. He should sleep for at least another hour or so.” She waved a hand. “We’ll have his diaper bag with us if he wakes earlier.”
He bowed to her expertise. “Okay, let’s hit the road. There’s a family-style restaurant across the street.”
“Sounds perfect.” She bent to grab the diaper bag. “First, though, I’d like to look at your arm.”
He glanced at the gauze she’d wrapped around his injury. “It’s fine. Trust me, I would let you know if it felt worse.”
Scowling, she planted her hands on her hips. “I’d rather make sure there isn’t an infection before it settles in your bloodstream.”
Resigning himself to the inevitable, he gestured for her to come into his room, where they were less likely to disturb Micah. As before, she took a moment to spread out her supplies, including a washcloth and the hydrogen peroxide, then unwrapped the gauze. As she worked, he craned his neck to see the wound for himself.
To his inexpert eye, it looked fine. She pressed on his skin around the injury, then proceeded to wash and redress it.
“Told you it was fine,” he grumbled.
“And I still think you could use a few doses of antibiotics,” she shot back. “Didn’t we pass a sign for a medical center on the way in?”
“I’m not going,” he said firmly. “Gunshot wounds are an automatic report to the police, and that will only open a can of worms.” He frowned. “However, it might be smart to take Micah in to be checked out. Don’t most babies see a doctor after they’re born?”
“Yes. I had the same thought, but we can’t just walk into the emergency department when there isn’t anything wrong with him.” She grimaced. “The emergency-department doctor would simply refer you to a pediatrician, anyway. They’re not set up to perform well-baby visits.”
“I guess that settles it.” He stood and flexed his arm, glad it wasn’t his shooting hand. The pain was negligible and wouldn’t hold him back from keeping them safe. “No point in stopping in at the medical center.”
She sighed but let it go. He thought about the computer, but he was too hungry to spend time searching for Rebecca’s relatives now.
Food first; then he’d tackle their next steps. What he really wanted was to contact Rebecca’s father. If the guy was still well enough to communicate, he hoped to convince him to take Micah out of the line of succession for the inheritance. A college fund or something similar would be more than enough.
He could provide for his son. They didn’t need the headache of fighting heirs over the Woodward fortune. That kind of money didn’t buy happiness.
In fact, he felt certain it was just the opposite. Rebecca had claimed the summers she’d spent in Green Lake had been the best of her life. Nights spent sitting at the edge of the lake or stealing a kiss at the campfire...
No, that kind of money wasn’t worth it.
Pushing those troublesome thoughts aside, he put the laptop strap over his shoulder. He peered through the window, scanning the parking lot, before carrying Micah outside. Liz followed close behind with the diaper bag.
The bright day without a cloud in the sky promised warm summer temperatures. Normally, he’d be concerned about tourists causing trouble out on Green Lake. But there wasn’t anything he could do, now that he was on a leave of absence.
The family restaurant wasn’t as busy as he’d anticipated. They were taken to a booth in the corner. He tucked Micah’s carrier in beside him.
A server arrived with coffee. When their mugs were full, they perused the menu, then placed their orders.
“This seems like a nice town,” Liz commented before sipping her coffee. “It feels as if nothing bad could happen here.”
He’d once thought the same thing about Green Lake, until he’d gone into law enforcement. Liam’s wife, Shauna, had been in danger; then some of the Amish members of the community had danger show up on their doorstep, too. Now this. He shook his head. “Unfortunately, bad things can happen anywhere.”
“True.” She lowered her mug. “Where are we going next?”
It was a good question. “We could push on through to La Cross. It’s about thirty miles west of here. Or we could turn and head south to Madison.” He shrugged. “La Cross is closer.”
“I’d prefer La Cross—although I don’t know how we’re going to figure out who hired the gunmen.”
He wasn’t sure about that himself. He sat back as their server arrived with their food. When she left, Liz leaned forward to take his hand. “We should say grace.”
Squeezing her hand, he bowed his head. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but the prayer came easily. “Dear Lord, we thank You for this wonderful food and keeping us safe in Your care. Amen.”
“Amen,” Liz whispered.
He wanted to savor the moment, but Micah began wiggling in his carrier. He quickly dove into his meal, eating in record time so he could tend to his son.
“I’ll make him a bottle in the restroom,” Liz offered, scooting out of her seat.
Micah was awake but hadn’t started crying yet. He blinked in the light as if wondering where he was, but Garrett knew it wouldn’t take long for him to fuss. He lifted the boy from his carrier and held him with his injured arm while trying to finish his breakfast with the other.
Micah’s tiny face crumpled just as Liz returned. Garrett flashed a smile as he quickly gave his son the bottle. “Just in time.”
“I’ll take him,” she offered.
“He’s fine. I’m just about finished, anyway.” He ate the last slice of crispy bacon, then pushed his plate aside. “I’d like to call Rebecca’s father sooner than later, though. Maybe we can stop by the motel long enough to use the internet so I can look up the best way to try to contact him.”
“Okay, but I don’t think billionaires list their personal phone numbers on the web,” she said.
“I know. But there would be a phone number for his company, and I might be able to get through to someone by using Rebecca’s name.” It was the only idea he could come up with.
“Hang on.” She pulled out her phone, then nodded. “There’s internet here. Give me Micah, I’ll hold him while you log on.”
He did as she asked, passing the baby across the table. He couldn’t help but smile at how Liz cooed over his son. Turning his attention to more important issues, he opened the laptop and connected to the free Wi-fi.
It was slow, but it worked well enough for him to find the corporate offices of Woodward Enterprises. He started with the general number, letting the assistant who answered the phone know that he had important information related to Rebecca and her baby that he needed to give to Robert Woodward.
“Hold on, please.” Before he could agree, there was nothing but dead air. He waited three full minutes before another voice answered.
“This is Edward Woodward’s assistant,” a pleasant voice said. “How may I help you?”
Edward was Robert’s younger brother—and a suspect, along with his children, Elaine and Jeremy. “I don’t want to speak to Edward. I need to talk to Robert directly.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not an option. He’s been moved into hospice care. Edward is in charge now, and he would be happy to help in any way he can.”
Hospice care. The news shouldn’t have been a shock. “I’m sorry. That won’t work. Goodbye.” He quickly disconnected, then powered down the phone in case they decided to try tracing the call.
“What is it?” Liz’s expression reflected her concern.
“Edward Woodward is in charge,” he said. “And Rebecca’s father has been moved into hospice.”
“Oh, no. That’s so sad.”
Did Robert even know about Rebecca’s death? He thought it was interesting Edward’s assistant hadn’t asked more questions about Rebecca or her baby.
He decided to call the dispatcher to find out if either Wyatt or Abby were still on duty. A horrible thought had occurred to him, and he needed more information—fast.
“Wyatt is on his way home. Would you like me to connect you?”
“Please.” There was a pause before Wyatt answered. “Hey. I need you to call the Brown County morgue to see if Rebecca’s body has been taken there.”
“Okay. I’ll call you right back.” Wyatt clicked off, presumably to make the call. He had a bad feeling about this.
It took almost ten minutes for Wyatt to call back. He put the call on speaker for Liz to hear, too. “No female Jane Doe or Rebecca Woodward has been taken to the Brown County Medical Examiner’s office or to the local hospital.”
That was exactly what he’d been afraid of. “These guys are getting rid of the bodies to eliminate any evidence.”
“Yep,” Wyatt agreed. “No body, no crime. At least, it’s much harder to prove there was a crime. Are you guys okay? Do you need us to come back you up?”
“No thanks. Go home and get some sleep.” He disconnected from the call, then powered down his phone. “Make sure to keep yours off from this point forward, too,” he instructed.
Eyes wide, she nodded.
He stared out the window. Rebecca’s body had been taken away, just like the gunman he’d shot in self-defense.
The situation had gone from bad to worse. And despite his years on the job, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
SEVEN
Liz swallowed hard, wishing she hadn’t left Rebecca’s body behind in her clinic. Yet she’d needed to keep Micah safe and had called the ambulance to respond to Rebecca’s death. How had the gunmen found Rebecca’s body prior to the ambulance arriving?
They must have been closer than she’d realized. And one had followed her to the sheriff’s department.
Her distress must have been evident, because Garrett reached over to take her hand. “Please don’t be upset. It’s not your fault.”
“I keep trying to tell myself that.” She shook her head, feeling helpless. “I only left because of the potential danger to Micah. And that has been proven to be a bigger concern than I realized.” She held his gaze. “It’s all surreal.”
“You have that right.” He gently squeezed her hand. “We’ll need to pick up disposable phones and continue staying off-grid as much as possible.”
“I understand.” She gazed at Micah’s sleeping face, knowing just how lost she’d be without Garrett’s support. Based on everything that had transpired, returning to her clinic wasn’t an option.
What if she could never go back? A surge of panic tightened her chest. She couldn’t abandon her patients. They needed her!
Then again, so did Micah—at least for now, while Garrett searched for the bad guys.
She struggled to breathe normally, letting go of her fears. Her future was in God’s hands.
Their server returned with more coffee, smiling at Micah. “He’s so precious. What’s his name?”
“Micah,” she and Garrett answered at the exact same time.
Their server laughed as she finished filling their mugs. “It’s always nice to see a beautiful family.”
Her gaze clashed with Garrett’s, a flush creeping over her cheeks, but neither of them corrected her assumption. Garrett smiled softly, then turned his attention back to the laptop.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay here for another few minutes.” His fingers worked the keyboard. “I need to see if there are other possible heirs who should be considered suspects.”
“Anything that helps us get to the bottom of this mess is fine with me.” It still boggled her mind to think that anyone would kill an innocent baby over money.
She glanced around the restaurant, enjoying the cheerful atmosphere. The family-friendly place seemed safe, far away from the gunmen who stalked them.
“I need to make a list,” Garrett muttered.
“A list about what?”
“Heirs to the Woodward fortune if Micah was out of the picture.” He frowned. “Robert’s brother, Edward, has two kids, Elaine and Jeremy. But now it looks like Robert has a sister, too—Connie. And her daughter, Anita.”
“Edward, Elaine, Jeremy, Connie and Anita,” she repeated, to memorize their names. “Would the inheritance be split between them evenly? Or would one sibling get more than the others?”
“That’s a good question—although, from searching the website, it appears both Edward and Connie Malone, which is her married name, work in the business. They must report to Rebecca, who was named CEO a few months ago, which is when Robert declared her and her baby the heir to his company.” He grimaced. “It’s possible with her and Micah gone, they’d have equal shares, along with their children. If that’s the case, Edward has the advantage.”
She shifted her gaze to the sleeping infant. “Rebecca was CEO, huh? He must have given her that role right after he learned about his cancer. I’m not a cancer expert, but being diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer usually means a life expectancy of nine months to a year at the most.”
“I think Rebecca was always slated to take over, but the timing may have been pushed up because of his diagnosis,” Garrett agreed thoughtfully. “I wonder how her aunt and uncle feel about reporting to her. Although, that’s not a problem any longer.”
