His Daddy's Eyes Page 8

  Angry beyond reason, she jerked the small tube from her pocket and waved it in his face. “There—glue. I lied. Are you satisfied? You’ve made your point. I was feeling intimidated, and I bolstered my confidence by pretending to be able to defend myself, which we both know is a joke since you are the long arm of the law and I’m just a person who…”

  Ren’s stunned look took some of the fuel out of her fire. “I was only kidding,” he said in a soft, even voice. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

  Sara’s mortification grew when she glanced behind him to the three curious faces in the storefront. Blowing out a long sigh, she shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. That was nuts. I’m a little stressed. What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “Could we go to the park?” He gave her an encouraging smile. “I promise not to mug you.”

  She nodded, trying to smile. He probably thought she was a lunatic, but she’d been edgy ever since Claudie’s suggestion that something might happen to Brady.

  They didn’t speak until they reached Cesar Chavez Park. “Can we sit?” he asked, pointing to an empty bench. The grass was littered with gum wrappers and cigarette butts. The quiet of the deserted inner square was outlined by the buzzing traffic that surrounded it.

  Sara smoothed her silk skirt primly across her knees, then stiffened her spine and said, “I’d like to think you’re about to tell me some long-lost relative died and left me a million bucks, but that frown tells me this isn’t good news. Why don’t you just get it over with? My sister used to make me take cough syrup by telling me ‘What’s the worst that can happen? You throw up.’ So, tell me quick in case I have to barf.”

  The smile that tugged up the corners of his lips eased some of Sara’s fear for a second, until he said, “Sara, I knew your sister.”

  It wasn’t what she was expecting, either the words or the tone, which sounded like a confession. “You knew Julia?”

  He nodded hesitantly.

  “You don’t seem too sure about that.”

  He blew out a sigh and hunched forward. “I did. And I didn’t. Maybe the most diplomatic way of putting this is that I knew her in the biblical sense.”

  The starchy, formal words sounded ridiculous. But a sudden, piercing image of Julia and Ren together made Sara’s stomach heave. Maybe she’d throw up, after all.

  “I…don’t understand why you’re telling me this. You know she’s dead, right?”

  He nodded. “I just learned of her…accident. Bo has been looking for her for two years.”

  “Bo? What’s Bo got to do with Julia? Are you working for the insurance company?” She’d dealt with a series of investigators after the accident, and it wasn’t an experience she cared to repeat.

  He crossed his legs and leaned closer. The breeze sent a whiff of his cologne her way. An expensive, intimidating scent. Sara’s breathing sped up.

  “Bo’s my friend,” Ren said, “but he’s also a private investigator. I hired him to find your sister.”

  “Find her? What do you mean? She lived here practically all her life.”

  “I know that now. Bo did a complete background check, but at the time I didn’t know her name.”

  Questions popped into her head too fast to ask. Julia had never mentioned knowing a judge. “Why were you looking for her?”

  “Primarily to make sure there weren’t any surprises if I ran for public office. You know—blackmail?”

  Blackmail? Julia? “Are you saying you and Julia had an affair and you were afraid Julia would use that against you? For money? Are you crazy?” Sara cried, half rising to her feet. “Julia would never have done something like that. She valued her privacy more than anything. And she and Hulger had more money than God. It’s ludicrous. Why would you think it?”

  He shook his head; he didn’t meet her gaze. “I didn’t know her. I didn’t know what she was like. We spent one night together. We didn’t talk much.”

  At least he had the grace to sound embarrassed, Sara thought, sitting back down. But that was small succor for her outrage on Julia’s behalf. “Why are you telling me this? Why do I have to know if Julia had an affair? She wasn’t perfect, but she was my sister and I loved her.” Tears began to gather in her eyes. “She’s dead. Isn’t that punishment enough for her sins?”

  Ren started to put out his hand to touch her, but let it drop to the bench. He swallowed and looked so serious that Sara’s blood started racing, making it hard to hear his words. “There’s a chance I might be Brady’s father.”

  The words barely made it into her consciousness before she was up and running. I have to get my baby. We have to run. As far away as possible.

  “Sara, please, wait.”

  “No. Go away. I don’t want to hear this.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “You have to.”

  She shrugged it off and tried to run, but her new shoes tripped her up. She stumbled, then recovered her balance before he could help her. “I don’t believe you. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but it’s not true.”

  When she started off again, he dashed into her path and held out his arms like a scarecrow to keep her from going around him. “Why would I do that? Invite scandal into my life? This is a political town and I have a political job. Why would I go out of my way to make trouble for myself?”

  Her gaze darted to a figure atop a sorrel horse at the far end of the park. She sometimes brought Brady to this park when the Farmer’s Market was in session, just to see the mounted police. Maybe, for once, the police would be her ally. She started to hail him, but the sun’s glint on the man’s badge stopped her. Fool, she silently castigated herself. Ren’s a judge. They play for the same team.

  Drawing on strength she didn’t know she possessed, Sara took a deep breath. “I don’t know you. Apparently, I don’t know Bo. In fact, it seems as though there’s some kind of conspiracy going on here.”

  Ren dropped his arms. “It’s not a conspiracy, Sara. After I found out about Julia’s death and Brady’s birth, I asked Bo to check you out. See what kind of mother you are. What kind of life Brady has.”

  Sara’s anger surged. “And what? The two of you decided I wasn’t good enough to be Brady’s mother? That I’m not providing the kind of life a judge could provide? So you thought you’d just drop in and take over?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, sending it tumbling across his brow. “No. Of course not. You’re—”

  Sara didn’t let him finish. She knew all about empty promises and kind-sounding lawyers. “I don’t know what you want from me, but let me tell you something. If you’re after custody of Brady—a child you’d never even seen until last week, you’ll have a long and difficult fight. He’s my son. Julia gave him to me.” She pushed past him, praying she could make it to the bookstore before her tears started.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “SO WHAT’D HE SAY after that?” Keneesha asked.

  Sara rested her elbows on her desk and cradled her throbbing head in her hands. She’d been over the whole scene a dozen times, at least, but her friends seemed incapable of grasping the idea that she might wind up losing Brady. Her baby. Yes, he was Julia’s son, but Sara had been in that delivery room, too. She’d held him moments after his first cry. How could she possibly give him up to a stranger who showed up on her doorstep?

  “After what?” Sara asked, drawing on all the patience she could muster.

  “You asked him if you should be talking to a lawyer instead of him and he told you what?”

  Sara looked at the playpen where Brady was sleeping—completely spent after missing his nap. “He said that until they did a DNA test this was just supposition. It might just be a coincidence.”

  Keneesha nodded with passion. “Yeah, that could be. Maybe Brady was premature.”

  Sara rocked back in her chair, picturing the squalling, eight-pound ten-ounce baby boy who’d peed all over the front of Hulger’s surgical gown before the nurses could wrap him up. “Nope. Full term,” she sai
d, closing her eyes.

  “At the moment all Bishop is asking for is a blood test, right?” Daniel asked.

  “DNA. He says it’s a simple procedure. No needles. You know how much Brady hates needles.” Just saying Brady’s name made her eyes fill with tears.

  “I say we take him out,” Claudie snarled, smacking a bookshelf with the heel of her hand.

  Keneesha, who was perched on a plastic chair, jumped up. “I know a guy. Just got out of prison. He’s a mean mother. He’d do him cheap.”

  Daniel stopped pacing long enough to ask, “How cheap?”

  Sara surged to her feet. “Cut it out. We’re not ‘doing’ him, no matter how cheap.” Then she voiced her worst fear: “What if he is Brady’s father?”

  “Girl, don’t even think it,” Keneesha groaned. “Maybe this is some kind of scam. Rich people are weird—they do crazy things.”

  Sara didn’t waste her breath arguing that they didn’t know enough about Ren Bishop to gauge either his finances or his possible motives. From Daniel’s quick, superficial scan of the Internet—Sara was too shaky to type—they’d learned about Ren’s prison literacy program; his victory on behalf of the salmon; his appointment to the bench in the wake of his father’s death. Each entry confirmed Sara’s worst fear—he was for real.

  The front door opened. Instinctively Sara tensed, ready to grab Brady and run. She sank back into her chair when she saw Bo walk forward, a rumpled white handkerchief extended in supplication. “Don’t hurt me, please. I know I’m scum, but I have a low threshold for pain.”

  “Yeah, you’re a man. Tell me something I don’t know,” Claudie snarled.

  Sara looked down. She liked Bo, and it hurt to think he’d befriended her only to spy on her. When he started toward her, she spun her chair the other way. “Go away, Bo. You don’t belong here.”

  “Yeah, Rat Boy, we exterminate rats around here,” Keneesha muttered, stepping in his path.

  “It was my job,” he said gruffly, his voice loud enough for Sara to hear. “Sometimes I wish I’d paid more attention in college, but at the moment this is what I do. And yeah, at times it sucks. Surely you can understand that?”

  Sara swiveled back around in time to see Keneesha stand aside. Bo walked straight to Sara. “I’m sorry, Sara. I mean it. I wouldn’t have followed through on this if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do, but maybe we went about it the wrong way. I know you don’t trust me, but I want to help.”

  Daniel made a hooting sound. “How? Like you did by hacking confidential medical records?”

  Bo frowned but his focus didn’t waiver. “Sara, I tried talking Ren out of pursuing it, but he convinced me the coincidence was just too great. He did sleep with your sister, she did give birth nine months later. Can you really blame him for wanting to know?”

  Sara covered her ears with her hands. If Julia had been there, she’d have laughed at the futile, childish response. Julia always told her, You can’t hide from reality, Sara girl. Mom’s a drunk. Pretending it isn’t so won’t make her sober.

  “Human gestation is not exact,” Daniel said.

  Bo nodded. “That’s what I told Ren, and he agreed, but you gotta admit he’s in the ballpark.” He looked at Claudie and said, “Not to be crude, but either she was pregnant when she went to Tahoe, or she got knocked up as soon as she went home, or one of the rubbers sprang a leak. Unless you know something I don’t, those appear to be the options.”

  All eyes turned to Sara, who waved her hand in a gesture of futility. “Julia never talked about her sex life. Not to me, anyway.”

  Bo placed both hands flat on the desk and looked at Sara. “Ren’s not doing this on a whim, Sara. He’s an honorable man. Responsible. He has to know one way or the other, even if it means bad publicity that might adversely affect his career.”

  Keneesha elbowed Bo out of the way so she could rest her butt against the desk. “So what? Are we supposed to feel sorry for him?”

  “Hell, no. Although I do. I hate to think what his fiancée’s going to do to him when she finds out.”

  Over Claudie’s boisterous vote for castration, Sara asked, “He hasn’t told her?”

  “He wanted to talk to you first—but he’s there now.”

  Sara wondered how the intensely focused woman who’d been in her store this afternoon would handle the news.

  “They weren’t actually dating when Ren…you know, but I don’t think that little detail’s gonna help his case,” Bo added.

  Keneesha snorted. “Well, he should have thought of that before he knocked her up.”

  Sara flinched. “We don’t know that, Kee. This is exactly what Ren warned me not to do—get too far ahead of this thing. All we know for sure is that he and Brady are both Type O, and that’s a pretty common blood type.”

  Daniel walked around the desk and squatted beside her chair. He put an arm around her shoulders. “We can fight this, Sara. Jenny knows a lot of lawyers. We’ll find one who specializes in custody cases. Even if it turns out he is—”

  Claudie pushed him away. “Don’t say another word with Mr. Big Ears here.”

  Bo rolled his eyes. “Don’t you get it? I want to help. I can, too. I’ve known Ren for years. I know how he thinks.”

  Claudie walked up to him and poked her finger at his chest. “You’re a man. You think the same way. That’s why we can’t trust you.”

  Daniel hastily moved to separate them. “Hey, watch it. I’m a man.”

  “Couldn’t prove it by me,” Keneesha chimed in.

  While the four argued, Sara put her head in her hands. She didn’t want to think of Ren Bishop as the enemy. Even while he’d been telling her the most potentially devastating news she could imagine, he’d remained kind and gentle, almost apologetic. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sara,” he’d told her, when he’d caught up to her half a block from the bookstore. “I know what a great mother you are because Brady’s a terrific kid. Smart. Independent. Good strong teeth.” His lopsided grin—so Brady-like—had sent a shiver of fear down her back.

  When she’d threatened to get a lawyer, he’d sighed and said, “I can recommend several, but I wish you’d consider getting the results from the DNA test before we call in the artillery.”

  Sara’s antipathy toward lawyers ran just about as deep as her distrust of judges.

  “What would you have me do, Sara? Walk away and pretend it didn’t happen?” he’d asked. His tone made her stop and look at him. She probably shouldn’t have, though, because his earnestness moved her in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  “What if he’s not your son?”

  “What if he is?”

  The question had echoed through her head with every pulse beat as she hurried toward the bookstore. He’d stopped her again before she could flee inside. “I have to know, Sara. There’s no way I could go through life without acknowledging my son. Never being a part of his life. Never holding him, watching him grow up. I couldn’t live with myself if I just walked away.”

  Sara knew Ren had no idea how his plea touched her heart. Even if Bo had given him every single piece of information available about her, Ren couldn’t have guessed how not having a father had shaped her life. No one, not even Julia, knew how badly Sara had craved a father when she was growing up. In a way, Hank Dupertis had become a surrogate father in her teens, but that didn’t make up for all the years without a dad.

  Keneesha’s voice brought Sara back to the present.

  “If you want to help so bad,” she told Bo, “then tell us where he lives. I’ve got some payback in mind.”

  Bo snagged a pen off the desk and, with a flourish, scribbled a few lines on the back of an envelope. He held it up for all to see as he read the address and phone number aloud. “It’s only about a mile from here. I’ll lead the way if you want. He should be home by the time we get there. But if he’s not, there’s a spare key under the flowerpot by the front door.”

  “Yeah, let’s do it,” Keneesha
cried.

  “Is this a trick? Are you telling me he doesn’t have a fancy alarm system?” Claudie asked suspiciously.

  “Most times he doesn’t bother setting it,” Bo replied. “Let’s go.”

  Sara shook her head. “Absolutely not. No violence. I still have friends back East. Brady and I could go—”

  Claudie nodded. “I’ll go with you. We could leave tonight.”

  Bo groaned. “Don’t even think it, Sara. Trust me, running away doesn’t solve anything. I’ve met people in the FBI witness relocation program. It’s a terrible way to live—always looking over your shoulder.”

  Sara knew he was right. This wasn’t something she could run from. “I’ll call the estate lawyer first thing Monday. If he won’t handle it, then I’ll find somebody who will. Right now, Brady and I are going home. I’m shot.”

  With four extra sets of hands, the transition of closing up the shop and moving Brady to his car seat went smoothly. It was only when she started to get into the car that Daniel said, “Sara, we forgot to turn on the television. We didn’t get to see you on the news.”

  Sara’s laugh sounded harsh to her ears. “That seemed kinda important for a few minutes, didn’t it?”

  Claudie sighed. “I doubt if Sara got much on-screen time, anyway. I have a feeling Eve Masterson wasn’t too thrilled to see her boyfriend hanging out at a bookstore with a kid who has the same big blue eyes.”

  At the group’s sudden silence, Claudie slapped her hand over her mouth and whimpered. Sara touched her shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s the truth.” She said her goodbyes and left.

  Before she’d gone three blocks, her hands were trembling on the steering wheel and tears obscured her vision. She hastily pulled over, giving in to her emotions. Fear. Anger. A sense of impending loss. “It’s just not fair,” she cried. Ren’s resources and connections seemed limitless. How could she fight that kind of power? How could she not at least try with all her might?

  Wiping her tears with her hands, she put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. Recalling Bo’s directions, she turned the steering wheel sharply at the next intersection, barely acknowledging the red light.