His Best Friend's Baby. Mallory Kane
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even be thinking what she was thinking.
“Tell me.”
“This is awful. I can’t believe I’m even saying it.” She took a deep breath, preparing herself for Matt’s ridicule. “The tea? It’s a new blend. Margo bought it for me at the health food store. They told her it was good for insomnia.”
Matt glanced at her, frowning.
“But Matt, I’ve been drinking it every night for almost a week now.”
“Is it helping you sleep?”
“Yes,” she said. She hadn’t really thought about it, but she had slept better this past week than she had in a long time. “It is. You don’t think—?” Her breath hitched. “No. That’s ridiculous. Margo wouldn’t—Not her own—her only grandchild—” She stopped, horrified at her thoughts. During the first moments after she’d realized William was missing, she’d briefly considered that Margo might have planned it, but she’d dismissed it as impossible. She was his grandmother.
Matt glanced at her.
“No. She couldn’t do that—could she?”
“You tell me.”
“But it’s outrageous. Not even Margo—I mean, yes, she’s been complaining about how hard it is for her to get anything done through the Vick Corporation board since Bill died.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Bill left everything to William, just like his dad left everything to him. Remember when Boss Vick died?”
“Sure, that summer after we graduated from high school.”
“Right. Bill was all set to go to MIT. He wanted to get his degree in aerospace engineering, then go into the Air Force, like you and Deke and Rook.”
“Yeah. After his dad died, he changed his mind, and decided to go to the University of Wyoming.”
“Right. To stay close to home. Margo convinced him that he had to run the business. Because when he turned twenty-one, the entire Vick Hotel fortune—and responsibility—fell into his lap.”
“Bill controlled everything—”
Aimee nodded. “And Margo controlled Bill,” she said bitterly.
“And now?”
“Now that Bill’s dead, William stands to inherit all of it.”
Matt looked at her questioningly. “What about until he’s twenty-one? Who did Bill name as William’s trustee?”
“Me,” Aimee breathed.
“So you’re the one who votes the controlling interest. That must rankle Mrs. Vick.”
“I go to the board meetings, but I’ve never opposed a single decision. Why would I?”
“But you could.”
Aimee shrugged. “I suppose. You think she did it, don’t you?”
Matt glanced in the rearview mirror. “Think about it. What does she want? What does kidnapping her own grandson right from under his mother’s nose accomplish?”
“Frightening me?” Aimee cast about for any possible explanation. “Making it look like I can’t—”
“Like you can’t take care of your own child. What would she gain if she had custody of William? She’d retain controlling interest in the corporation. But it’s damn hard to get custody away from the mother. She’d have to prove that you’re unfit. That you couldn’t protect your own child in your own home.”
She moaned under her breath. Hearing those words in Matt’s carefully neutral voice made them sound true.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “But it would explain a lot.”
Aimee’s face felt numb. Her mind felt numb. Intellectually, she understood Matt’s reasoning. If he were right, her mother-in-law was setting her up to take William away from her.
His words echoed in her brain, taunting her with their truth.
You couldn’t protect your own child in your own home.
Aimee was still reeling, still trying to process the idea that Margo could have kidnapped her baby, when she realized that Matt’s demeanor had changed.
Nothing outwardly was different. His hands still held the steering wheel in a tight grip at ten and two. His expression was carefully neutral, if a bit tight.
But tension suddenly crackled in the air, and it definitely came from him.
He’d gone on alert.
“Matt, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“Wrong?” He glanced in the rearview mirror.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Something’s wrong. I can tell. Did you see something?”
He didn’t reply.
His sudden transformation fascinated and frightened her. Yesterday, he’d been the consummate soldier on a mission. This morning he’d acted more like a protector. She was his charge, his responsibility.
But now in the blink of an eye, he’d morphed from protector back to predator. He was a hunter, and he’d scented his prey.
She opened her mouth to ask him again when, without warning, he veered off the stark mountain road and stopped.
“What are you doing?” Fear raced through her.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. “If you hear or see anything while I’m gone, lie flat across the seat. The metal should protect you.”
“Protect me? Matt—?”
“Do you understand?” He glared at her, his tone and the grim set of his face brooking no argument.
“Yes,” she retorted.
He walked over to the edge of the graded area and stopped at the line of trees. For a couple of seconds, he surveyed the mountain road in both directions, then reached for his fly.
Aimee gaped. Was he—? He was! On the way to exchange a million dollars for her baby, he’d stopped to take a leak! She didn’t know whether to scream or laugh. Was he so confident? Or so arrogant?
She reached for the door handle, prepared to jump out and yell at him for wasting time while her child was in the hands of kidnappers. At that instant he turned his head imperceptibly to his right, back the way they’d come. And she got it—his sudden transformation. His razor-sharp alertness. Her impression that she was watching a predator.
He’d detected a threat.
Her heart jumped into her throat and she twisted in her seat, looking behind them. But she didn’t see anything. Of course, she wouldn’t. Matt was ex-Air Force Special Forces. His skills and senses were sharper than an ordinary person’s.
She watched as he took a step closer to the trees. The sight was awesome and frightening. The curve of his back and the set of his shoulders made her think of a leopard about to spring. Standing still, he might look like a regular guy, but when he moved—oh my.
Absently, it occurred to her that, although she’d known Matt as long as she’d known her husband, Bill, she had almost no knowledge of his personal life or his background. He might as well be a stranger.
She hunched her shoulders, feeling fragile and human and exposed.
All at once the very air around her went still.