Somebody's Baby

  “I run a construction crew, so whenever there’s a ‘Sloan sighting,’ I hear them talking about it. You’re a celebrity.” He folded his arms. “And congratulations on the CMA award.”

  “Thanks.” A cold wind whipped across the concrete, making her shiver.

  “Looks like you got everything you ever wanted.”

  It was her turn to give him a hard look. “Not everything, Dawson. No one gets everything. And sometimes a good thing comes along at the wrong time.” She pushed a lock of hair that had crept onto her forehead back under the hat. No use snapping at him. “How’s Lani?”

  His whole expression softened. “She’s finished her fellowship and will be home for Christmas. She’ll start her new job at Windemere General after the first of the year.”

  For a moment time ran backward and Sloan saw the tall slim teen boy he’d been when they’d first met in high school, both of them angry at life, both of them on a collision course with fate. A shared past neither wanted to remember, but that neither could forget. “I hope the two of you will be happy.”

  “We will be. I love her very much.”

  His words shut the door of the past, and Sloan was once more at a gas station off the interstate on a cold winter day. “Well, can’t be late for my meeting.”

  He stepped aside, and she went to the driver’s door, was about to climb inside, when she turned to him. “If life had a reset button, I’d use it, but even then I don’t think anything would be different. And for the record, you and Lani aren’t the only people who lost him. I lost him too. And it broke my heart.”

  Bittersweet memories flooded Dawson as he watched her drive toward Windemere. Sloan was correct, the three of them had lost someone they’d loved, and real life had no “do-overs.” His and Lani’s love had been their saving grace. Sloan had gained her coveted fame, and perhaps that was enough for her. Dawson pushed the “fast-forward” button in his brain, strode to his truck, and drove off in the opposite direction.

  Marie was waiting for Sloan by the front desk inside the DCS building when Sloan swooped in. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Bo and his attorney are already in the conference room. And Bo’s antsy.”

  Good, Sloan thought. She wanted him a little nervous, facing the unknown of the meeting’s purpose, which had layers. “You have the paperwork?”

  Marie held up a file folder. “All drawn up and ready for signatures. Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Because I can’t imagine Bo signing this paper.”

  Sloan’s heart pounded like a trip-hammer, but she offered a confident smile. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  They walked down a hallway, then stopped at a closed door, where Sloan ripped off the toboggan hat to let her blond hair fall free. She dragged her fingers through the tangles, unzipped the coat to show a body-hugging blue turtleneck. “Do you know Bo’s lawyer?”

  Marie nodded. “This county is a fishbowl, everyone knows everyone else. Don and I’ve faced off before, but he’s a good guy.” She opened the door, and the two of them stepped into the overheated room.

  Bo’s attorney rose politely. Bo remained kicked back in his chair and looking smug. After introductions, Sloan and Marie took swivel chairs on the other side of the conference-room table. Its surface was scarred and scratched, and had no doubt seen many acrimonious battles.

  “Thank you for coming,” Marie said. Sloan kept her face as neutral as possible.

  “What do you want?” Bo barked, glaring at Sloan.

  Don reached over and quieted him. “My client is scheduled to meet with his son tomorrow.”

  “It ain’t real convenient for me to drive all the way from Memphis to visit with my own kid. I got a job, you know.” Bo seemed unable to control himself, even though Don silenced him again.

  “This arrangement is a hardship on my client. As it is, in order to see Toby four hours a month, he has to drive twice a month.”

  “That ain’t convenient, you know. I got a job, and my boss is giving me grief.”

  Sloan so far had kept her silence, but now she said, “I’m sure you can find work in Windemere to be closer to your son.”

  “But my home is in Memphis. And that’s where I want Toby. I ain’t moving.”

  Sloan glanced at Marie, telling her with a look that she was going to drop her bombshell. “Well, then this is the perfect time to tell you why we’re here. Naturally you know I’m Lindsey’s half sister.”

  “So I heard. So what?”

  His tone was hateful. Sloan plunged ahead. “That makes me a relative, and that’s why I’m prepared to sue you for custody of Toby.”

  Bo erupted and slapped the table. “I’m his daddy. You can’t take him from me! Courts are never gonna side with you!”

  Don caught Marie’s eye, and Marie offered a shrug that communicated, What can I say? My client has rights too.

  Sloan locked her fingers in front of her on the table, mostly to control their trembling. “You may be correct, Bo, but I’m going to put up one hell of a fight. I can drag it out for years, can’t I, Marie?”

  “It could indeed take some time. And money.”

  Beside Bo, Don said, “Very likely.”

  Bo stood, as puffed up and threatening as a rattlesnake. “You’re some rich bitch who thinks she can jerk my kid away? You are wrong. Just ’cause you got money, you can’t have him.”

  Sloan held up a hand, ready to announce part two—the part where she was certain Bo would show his true colors. “And speaking of money, you do know that Toby’s trust fund—set up with the concert money I raised for his and Lindsey’s welfare—can’t be touched until he’s nineteen if he goes to college. Or, according to the terms of the trust, not until he’s thirty. That boundary is in place in case he gets into trouble while growing up. You know how kids are. One minute they’re sweet little boys, and then they hang with the wrong crowd and turn to booze and drugs. So if that happens…” She let the sentence trail. “Anyway, it was Lindsey’s idea, and my attorney in LA who set up the trust thought it a good one. Now, Lindsey honestly believed that Gloria will raise Toby right and he’ll stay out of trouble, but my sister wanted to prepare for all contingencies. So you will be raising Toby on your own, with no help from the trust.”

  The look on Bo’s face told everyone in the room that Sloan had hit her mark.

  “It…it ain’t about the money. It’s about me being his daddy.”

  Sloan knew from contract negotiations that whenever someone said, “It isn’t about the money,” it was about the money. She had asked Terri about rules when negotiating, and Terri had told her it depended on the stated intentions of both parties, but it was best if everyone left a negotiation feeling a level of satisfaction. Terri called it “holding out a carrot.” Sloan and Bo had reached an impasse—they both wanted custody of Toby, and she was willing to make it a long drawn-out and expensive fight. Bo resettled in his chair.

  “My client is within his rights to fight for full custody,” Don said.

  “So is mine.” Marie smiled sweetly, acquiesced once more to Sloan, who flattened sweaty palms on the table, knowing she had arrived at phase three of the negotiation, completely unknown to Marie. “Over Thanksgiving, Gloria and I cleaned out closets and drawers and boxed up some of Lindsey’s things for Toby. You know, items he might want when he’s grown. And you know what I found smushed in the back of a drawer in her bedside table?” She let the question hang. “I discovered a codicil to her will.”

  Bo’s head came up. “What’s that?”

  Don said, “An add-on to a person’s will, like extra instructions the person makes, additions perhaps for distributing personal items. Codicils are legal.”

  To her credit, Marie never flinched, kept silent and staring straight at Bo.

  “What did it say?” Bo’s gaze narrowed perceptively. He was expecting a trick.

  “Lindsey was fearful that you might fight her wishes giving Gloria guardianship of
Toby. Turns out, she was right.”

  “Well, cheers for her, ’cause there ain’t no way I’m leaving my boy with that woman Gloria. Or you.” He sounded venomous but less aggressive.

  Marie inserted herself into the conversation, pulled papers from the folder, pushed them toward Don. “Gloria is Toby’s primary caregiver and has been for years. The judge will take that into consideration.”

  “What judge?” Bo asked.

  “The one we go before to argue our case for keeping Toby with Gloria. First of all, Gloria was Lindsey’s stated guardian. That will count in her favor with the judge. The number one question in custody hearings is ‘What is in the best interest of the child?’ And that’s what I’ll be arguing….Toby’s life will be less upended if he remains with Gloria, in the house and place he’s known as home for years, and with the person his mother wanted him to be with. If you sign this agreement—”

  “I ain’t signing nothing.”

  “Then I will sue for custody, and either way, Toby remains living here,” Sloan added.

  Bo’s glare was murderous.

  Sloan swallowed down a fist of fear, knowing she’d have to be absolutely convincing when she spoke. Don’t blink. “Lindsey thought you’d say that.” She reached into her purse. “That’s why she wrote the codicil. If you sign the paperwork giving up your parental rights, Lindsey authorized me to give you this. We held it out of the trust money just in case something came up to thwart her wishes. And I’ve taken the liberty of having a local bank issue a cashier’s check for that money, made out to you.” Sloan slid the check across the table, faceup. She felt as if her skin were on fire, and perspiration had already soaked through the back of her shirt. An overhead fluorescent light buzzed.

  Bo looked at the check. His eyes widened.

  The carrot. Sloan sat back in her chair, her gaze never leaving Bo’s face. He might have been a handsome man at one time, but now he simply looked seedy. He licked his lips.

  Don looked at the check and arched an eyebrow. “Can you produce the codicil?”

  Marie intervened. “If we must.” She gave Don a smile, and a penetrating look. “ ‘In the best interests of the child’ is the way the law reads, and that’s the way judges rule. Especially in this county.”

  Which had only one juvenile judge, Sloan recalled from her and Gloria’s first meeting with Marie, and His Honor had set terms for Bo’s visitations because of paperwork Marie had already filed. “Your call,” Sloan told Bo, braver and bolder than she’d been minutes before.

  Marie whipped out her notary seal. “We’ll witness your signature today, and I’ll notarize the paper you sign right now and take it before a judge. You don’t even have to be present at the hearing.”

  Sloan put her fingertips on the check, still lying on the table. “Sign the papers and take the check. Or leave the check and fight me in court for custody of Toby for years to come.”

  Don said, “Once the papers are signed and executed, there’s no going back, Bo. You need to understand that you’re relinquishing your parental rights.”

  Bo’s eyes again went to the check, where Sloan’s perfectly manicured nails rested. Except for the buzzing light, the room was silent. Marie magically produced a pen, and in one jerky motion Bo grabbed it, scribbled his name, and shoved away the petition giving Gloria full uncontested guardianship of Toby Ridley. Marie and Sloan witnessed his signature. Bo stood, his expression stony, but he didn’t make eye contact. He simply grabbed the check and hurried out the door.

  Don pushed back his chair, gathered his briefcase, and looked Marie in the eye. “Well played, counselor.”

  “In the child’s best interests,” she reiterated. “Your client’s greed was quite obvious, and you know it.” Once Don was gone, Marie swiveled her chair to face Sloan, who only wanted to leave, yet remained sitting, waiting for a lashing, knowing she’d crossed lines.

  Marie drummed the tabletop with long fingers. “Why do I feel as if everything that happened here today wasn’t exactly kosher? You never told me about a codicil or the money.”

  “I—I was afraid you’d ask too many questions.”

  “So instead you made me complicit in a lie.”

  Sloan flushed. “Besides, his lawyer sure didn’t put up much of a fight about showing him the codicil,” Sloan said defensively.

  “When Don didn’t request it when it was first mentioned, I crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t fight over us producing it, but you still took a heck of a gamble.”

  “I figured out Bo’s reason for wanting custody. All I had to do was walk him through the maze to the truth.” She tried to sound contrite, but wasn’t.

  “Your explanation about the trust fund—that wasn’t true either, was it?”

  “Not exactly. The terms are much more lenient about accessing the money, but Bo will never know that.”

  “It was a large check, and I’m assuming it wasn’t really taken out of the trust either.”

  Sloan stood. “What good is money if you can’t spend it on something you want? And I sure wanted Bo Ridley to show his true colors. But mostly I wanted to keep a promise I made to Toby.”

  Sloan was driving to the Nashville airport to catch her return flight to Los Angeles, heady from her legal triumph. Running into Dawson had been a shock, but in the end they both were all right. Her cell phone chirped. She glanced at the screen, saw that Gloria was calling.

  “Hey!” Sloan answered brightly. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, Sloan…” Fear sounded in Gloria’s voice. “Toby’s done run away!”

  Sloan’s tires squealed as she blasted up Lindsey’s driveway and braked to a stop. She parked next to Cole’s truck, and was in the house before the engine shut down. “Any news?”

  Cole was on his cell phone and restlessly walking across the living room. He held up his hand to acknowledge her but stayed on the phone. Gloria jumped from the sofa. “Not yet. I’m so glad you were in Nashville and not Los Angeles. You got here real quick.”

  After hanging up with Gloria, Sloan had exited the interstate and zipped onto an eastbound ramp. She’d told Gloria that she’d been at a business meeting in Nashville—a small white lie. Time enough later to tell about Bo giving up parental rights. All that mattered at the moment was finding Toby.

  “How do you know he ran away?”

  “I went into his room to call him for breakfast, and he was gone. And…and so was his sports bag and so’s his baseball glove. I called all his friends, and no one’s seen him. I’m worried sick!”

  “But why? What would make him run off?”

  “All I can figure is that he was scheduled to meet with his daddy today and he pitched a fit last night ’cause he didn’t want to go. Said he didn’t like Bo, and I told him neither did I but he had to go.” Gloria wiped her eyes with a tissue. “It ain’t right, makin’ that child hang around with the awful man.”

  Cole punched off his phone and came to Sloan and Gloria. He looked haggard. “Just talked with the highway patrol, and they’re issuing an AMBER Alert for Toby.”

  “An AMBER Alert! Do you think Toby’s been abducted?” Sloan said, feeling sick to her stomach. “Do you think Bo could have abducted him?”

  Cole said, “I wouldn’t put anything past his jerk of a father.”

  Sloan’s legs turned to jelly, and she sank to the sofa. Gloria had said Bo liked winning. Sloan cupped her hand over her mouth, afraid she might throw up. If Bo had taken Toby, she had provided the man with enough money to hide with the boy for a long time.

  “An AMBER Alert is the best way for the cops to be on the lookout for Bo’s truck. They have a description and his license plate. Local cops are looking for Toby in town.” Seeing the ashen color of Sloan’s face, he took her hands, as cold as ice, in his. “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes darted away from Cole’s. “This…this could be my fault.” She told Cole and Gloria about her meeting with DCS, and how she’d secured Gloria’s guardianship permanently. Gl
oria cried with gratitude, but Cole’s expression turned grim, understanding the ramifications of Sloan’s actions.

  “I—I was only trying to help.”

  Cole brushed her hair away from the side of her face tenderly. “Don’t beat yourself up about this. Bo could have taken him with or without the money. For what it’s worth, I don’t think he took Toby, especially since he was in a meeting with you this morning. I’m guessing Toby slipped out very early while it was still dark.”

  “Where would he go?” Cole’s words calmed her, but her voice quavered when she asked.

  “That’s the question, isn’t it? The local cops are scouring the roads and woods. Toby’s not afraid to hide in the woods. I taught him too much about camping and the outdoors. And getting Bo to abandon his parental rights is a good thing. When we find Toby and tell him, he’s going to be one happy kid.”

  Cole’s cell buzzed. He answered, listened, thanked the person on the other end, and disconnected. His look of relief gave Sloan hope that Toby had been found. “That was the highway patrol. They stopped Bo’s truck west of Nashville on the way to Memphis, and Toby wasn’t with him.” He offered Sloan a wry grin. “He was mad as hell.” To Gloria, Cole said, “Aside from not wanting to see Bo, what else has been going on with Toby? School troubles? Bullies?”

  She shook her head, chewed her bottom lip. “No…but ever since Thanksgiving he’s been missing his mama somethin’ fierce. I told him we’d get a Christmas tree to decorate this weekend, and that seemed to cheer him up, but now?” She shook her head.

  “So what now?” Sloan asked.

  “We wait.”

  The day passed with no news from the searchers, and the waiting became excruciating. Gloria made sandwiches that no one ate for lunch. Unable to sit still, Sloan paced the house in a meandering circle. Toby’s room was strewn with the stuff of small boys, clothes tossed aside, shoes heaped in a corner, baseball cards strewn over a small desk. In Lindsey’s room, she discovered a pile of Lego creations on the bedside rug and a stack of comics on the bedside table.