Surrendering to the Sheriff. Delores Fossen
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was wrong with the baby, but the ultrasound had obviously shown her something she hadn’t known before now.
The baby was a boy.
“A son,” Aiden said, staggering back a bit.
Kendall had never seen him like this. Aiden was always in control. Always in charge. But this news had shaken him to the core.
“This doesn’t change anything,” Kendall insisted.
But she had the feeling he would have had the same reaction if it’d been a girl. It was just that seeing the baby on the screen made everything, well, real.
“The doctor will look over these images,” the tech said, finishing up. She wiped the goop off Kendall’s stomach. “But everything looks fine, right on target for the end of the first trimester.”
The moment the woman stepped out of the room, Kendall fixed her clothes. Best not to feel exposed when she had this discussion with Aiden. A discussion he wasn’t going to like. It was also a discussion she didn’t even get to start because Aiden’s phone buzzed, indicating that he had a text message.
“Leland got a hit on the dead guy’s prints,” Aiden said, reading the info on his phone. “His name was Montel Higgins.”
She repeated it, hoping that it would jog some kind of memory. It didn’t. “He has a record?”
Aiden nodded. “Both here and in his home country of Jamaica. He’s worked as muscle for loan sharks but never anything this serious. Leland’s checking to see if he can find a money trail so we can figure out who hired him.”
Good. That was a start. “What about the other one? Any sign of him?”
“Not so far, but they’ll keep looking.”
Kendall didn’t want them to stop looking, but she had to be realistic. It’d been several hours since the men kidnapped her, and the one who got away was probably long gone by now.
She stood, straightened her clothes. “You ready to talk?”
His gaze drifted to the ultrasound screen that was now blank. “Not about that. Not yet. But if you’re up to it, I need to take your statement about the attack. You might be able to recall some detail that’ll help us figure this out.”
Kendall definitely wasn’t feeling up to reliving the nightmare or giving a statement. She was exhausted and dizzy, and her arm was throbbing. Still, if she didn’t do it now, she’d only have to go to Aiden’s office tomorrow. Besides, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to returning to her house right now. Not with that escaped gunman still at large.
Aiden got her moving out of the ultrasound room and into the hall, but he stopped when they reached the glass doors that led from the ER to the parking lot. He slid his hand over his gun and looked out, his gaze slashing from one side of the lot to the other. Since it was close to 9:00 p.m., there weren’t many cars, only those of the workers and the handful of people in the ER itself. But Aiden still took his time, no doubt making sure they weren’t about to be attacked.
“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll get my truck and bring it right to the door.”
However, he didn’t even make it a step before Kendall spotted movement in the parking lot. Aiden saw it, too, because he pushed her behind him and drew his gun.
But it wasn’t the masked attacker coming back for another round.
It was a woman Kendall instantly recognized, and she groaned. It was almost as loud as the one Aiden made.
His mother, Carla, was making a beeline toward them.
Since Carla and she didn’t live in the same town and definitely didn’t travel in the same circles, it’d been a decade or longer since Kendall had seen the woman. She hadn’t changed a bit. Tall and lean and dressed to perfection in a spring-yellow dress. Her dark blond hair was swept up and her makeup flawless. She looked ready for a church social.
Except for that troubled expression.
Aiden grumbled something Kendall didn’t catch and maneuvered her back, away from the door.
“Your deputy said you were here,” Carla greeted.
“I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt.”
“Good to hear.” She spared him a glance as if it was the last thing she’d intended to ask about. And it probably was, since her attention stayed on her son for only several brief moments before it went to Kendall.
That definitely wasn’t a loving look she gave Kendall.
“I figured I’d find you here with my son,” Carla complained.
Aiden tapped the badge clipped to his belt. “She’s with me because I’m doing my job. Two men kidnapped Kendall, and she was shot.”
Again, that didn’t appear to be what Carla had come to discuss. “Kendall O’Neal’s not only a job to you.” Carla’s breath shuddered, and tears watered her eyes. “How could you crush me like this, Aiden? How could you let Jewell McKinnon’s sister seduce you?”
Oh, no. Not this. Not now.
“It wasn’t like that,” Aiden insisted, but he might as well have been talking to the air, because his mother didn’t even look at him. She was glaring at Kendall.
“I know what happened between Aiden and you,” Carla said to Kendall. “And now we need to figure out what we’re going to do about this baby you’re carrying.”
Aiden really didn’t need his mother in his face right now. His fun meter was at zero, and judging from the start to this particular conversation, everything about it was going to fall into the nonfun category.
He could go two ways with this. Placate Carla with some kind of “we’ll discuss this later” and go ahead and take Kendall to his office to get started on the paperwork. Or he could confront his mother as to how she’d learned about a one-night stand that Aiden hadn’t mentioned to a soul.
Since he figured the first option had little chance of ending this conversation in a hurry, he went with the second route and maneuvered them to the corner of the room so they could have a semiprivate talk.
“Did Laine tell you?” Kendall asked.
Aiden got his answer to that when Carla’s eyes widened. Those eyes then slashed toward Aiden. “You told Laine but not me?” But his mother waved off any answer that he might have given her. “It doesn’t matter. Laine and I aren’t on speaking terms since she married a McKinnon.”
Yeah, and it was something his mom brought up often. Laine had indeed married Tucker McKinnon, Jewell’s own son, and they were the parents of adopted twins. Something that had put a permanent rift between Carla and Laine.
Now Aiden was about to give her the same reason for a rift.
“If Laine didn’t tell you, how did you find out?” Aiden asked. Not that it was critical for him to know how the proverbial cat had gotten out of the bag, but he wanted to know just who was feeding information about him to his mother.
“I’d rather not say,” Carla insisted. “I’d rather focus on how to deal with this baby.”
Kendall sighed. “My baby isn’t something you need to deal with.” Her voice was strained, and while her words were crisp, Aiden figured it was better than her telling Carla to mind her own business.
But his mother would see this baby as her business.
“You’re wrong,” Carla answered. “You’re carrying a Braddock. My son’s blood. And I can’t let my grandbaby be raised by someone whose kin murdered my husband.” She pointed to Kendall’s stomach. “Your sister murdered that baby’s own grandfather.”