“Put yourself in my place,” Kelly Manning explained. “My husband, a police officer, was shot and killed when I was barely two weeks pregnant, and then I learned the child—our child—wasn’t really ours after all. I was afraid the police or social services would take Joseph from me until they could investigate what happened. So, I decided to try to get to the truth on my own.”
There was more to it. He’d bet his life on it, but Nick didn’t push it because frankly it didn’t matter. “If you carry this illogical speculation out to its equally illogical conclusion, then you’re saying that this baby, Joseph, is really Meredith’s biological son?”
“I think so, yes.” Her gaze snapped to his. “But she’s dead so she can’t take him away from me. And I checked—she has no living relatives. None. That’s why you agreed to raise William, right?”
Nick didn’t bother to answer that. It wasn’t any of this woman’s business that he’d felt an obligation to his former lover.
Kelly stared at him. “You don’t believe a word I’ve said, do you?”
“You’re a very perceptive woman. Which makes me wonder why you came here with this outlandish story in the first place. Did my brother, Eric, put you up to it?”
“No!” She repeated it, groaned and slapped her hand against the wall. “I don’t even know your brother. And I didn’t come here to kidnap a baby or do anything else that would harm him.” The outburst was short-lived, but it seemed to drain her. Her chin lowered a notch, and she turned away from him. “I just want to know the truth, all right? I want to know for certain if William is my son.”
He heard her breath shudder again. He heard the pain. And he saw her wipe the tear from her cheek. She was either a very good actress, or else…
Nick put a chokehold on that particular thought. He didn’t intend to give her any concessions until he had that background check from Cooper.
“All I’m asking for is a DNA test,” she said almost in a whisper. “A simple saliva swab.”
“That’s not going to happen. Not until I know more about you. And even then…”
Her sigh was long and weary. “Then just listen and do the math yourself. My late husband and I are both O negative. That means our child must be type O, as well. Notice the operative word there. Must.” She paused a moment. “Joseph is type B. B negative, to be exact.” Another pause. “So, this is more than a wild guess, but William has type O blood, doesn’t he?”
He did.
So did millions of people.
However, that wasn’t what sent Nick’s mind racing and his heart pounding. It was the added remark his visitor had tossed out there. The other child’s blood type.
B Negative.
Nick’s own rare blood type.
His mind continued to race until the possibilities crashed down on him like an avalanche.
If Meredith had lied to him. If his first instincts had been right after all. If she had indeed been pregnant with his child when she walked out and left him.
Then, maybe he had a son.
If that were true, then he would certainly come face-to-face with his worst nightmare.
Because any son of his would automatically be a target for murder.
Chapter Three
“Did you hear what I said?” Kelly asked.
Somewhere in the middle of her crucial explanation about blood types, Nick Lattimer had taken a mental hike. Sweet heaven, he was either totally heartless, or he didn’t have a clue what this was doing to her.
“I heard you.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his perfectly tailored tux and strolled to one of the bay windows that flanked the fireplace.
“Then you no doubt understood that Joseph can’t be my biological son.”
He made a sound that could have meant anything, and continued to stare out the window.
Because she had no choice, Kelly kept trying. “That’s why I need to do the DNA test on William.”
She felt the tears threaten again and forced them back. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him, anyway. Showing such weakness might make him go for her jugular, and right now she felt way too exposed.
“There have already been DNA tests done on William,” he let her know.
“Yes, but those were to prove that he isn’t your son. We need to do another one. A maternity study, they call it. So we can compare William’s DNA to mine.”
“And then what?” he fired back.
Kelly fully understood the implications of that simple question, and she didn’t like it any better than he apparently did. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t. But I can’t just forget what I’ve learned. I can’t walk away and pretend this never happened. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“I’ll bet you have.”
“So, we’re back to the sarcasm.” Kelly didn’t let it deter her. “Look, I don’t have all the answers, but this test is a start. We’ll get the results and go from there.” She waited a moment, hoping her voice would remain steady. “If there are any existing DNA samples for Meredith, I could have them compared to Joseph’s.”
“There are no samples. Meredith was cremated at her request and her ashes scattered on the grounds of her childhood home.”
Well, that was that. Another roadblock. Or else another stonewall attempt. Either way, it was a very hard place for her to get past.
But not an impossible one.
“Then, what about the biological father?” Kelly had to take a hard breath before she could continue. “Is there a chance he’d try to take Joseph if he finds out about him?”
She braced herself for whatever Nick Lattimer was about to tell her. It could easily be a bombshell that she wasn’t ready to have dropped on her. But he didn’t say a single word. He just kept his stiff back turned to her while he looked out the window.
Kelly groaned. “Look, this silent treatment is getting on my nerves. This might sound like a bad cliché, but I’m not even sure if I can handle the truth. Still, I have to know, all right? I can’t go on wondering if I have a son that I’ve never even met.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. She thought she might have seen some sympathy in his eyes, a sliver of it anyway, but if so, he didn’t get a chance to voice it. There was a knock at the door. One sharp rap.
“Come in, Cooper,” Lattimer ordered, not even bothering to verify that’s who was at the door.
However, it was indeed the bald-headed giant who’d made an appearance earlier. He gave her a considering glance. And a distrustful one. The feeling was mutual. Kelly didn’t trust him either. Of course, that probably had something to do with the fact he worked for Nick Lattimer.
“I’ve got the preliminary background check,” Cooper told his boss.
“Read it.”
The bald guy gave her another glance. “Out loud, sir? With her in the room?”
“Read it,” Lattimer insisted, the impatience straining his voice.
Those repeated two words and the stark edginess were apparently enough for the man to spring into action. “Her name is Kelly Baker Manning. I confirmed it with the photo on file at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Age twenty-eight. No criminal record. Self-employed as a photographer—she does mainly weddings and birthday parties. Widowed. Spouse was Louis Manning, vice detective, San Antonio PD. Killed in the line of duty. She has a