Security Blanket (9 page)

He lifted a shoulder, glanced around again “The prototype of the chemical project was due within forty-eight hours. Dexter kept saying it was ready, but that I couldn’t see it until he’d given it one final test.” Duran cursed. “I should have forced him to show it to me.”

Lucky gave that some thought. “So, if the prototype wasn’t ready, you think Dexter could have set the explosion, run with his research project and then faked his death?”

Duran met him eye to eye. “I think he faked not only his own death but maybe Kinley Ford’s and Brenna Martel’s.”

Yes. After seeing his sister on that surveillance video, Lucky had toyed with that idea, too. Still, there was all that blood. “Why would Dexter have done that?”

“Simple. Because he needed their help to finish the project. Plus, he knew what a fortune that chemical weapon would make, and he didn’t want to hand it over to the investors. Maybe he thought he could get away with it if everyone associated with the project was presumed dead. Then, he could wait a year or two and use an alias when he tried to sell it on the black market.”

“There’s a big problem with that theory. Kinley Ford wouldn’t have cooperated with Dexter’s illegal plan. She wasn’t a criminal,” Lucky insisted.

Duran shrugged. “Maybe she wasn’t a willing participant.”

Hell. That theory raced through and left him with more questions than when he’d started this investigation. “What could Dexter have used to force her to cooperate?”

“Right off the top of my head, I’d say maybe she was a fool for love. Brenna certainly was.” Another glance around. “But I know that Dexter had already broken things off with Brenna.”

Lucky hated to even put this out there, but it was something he had to know. “And you think that Dexter then started an affair with Kinley?”

Another shrug. “Something was going on between them. Hell for all I know, maybe Kinley Ford was the mastermind of that explosion. Or Brenna.
Women,
” he added like profanity.

Lucky dismissed his sister’s involvement. He had to. Because he couldn’t deal with the alternative. “But if Dexter and both women are alive, why haven’t they surfaced?”

“Maybe they have.” Duran extracted a set of car keys from his pocket. “My advice? Don’t trust anyone around here.”

“You think Dexter wants me dead, too?”

Duran blinked. “He has no reason to kill you. Does he?”

Oh, Lucky could think of a reason. If Dexter knew who he really was, then he might try to eliminate him. Dexter would figure out that Lucky wouldn’t stop until he had justice for Kinley.

If Kinley needed justice, that is.

Lucky hated that he was beginning to doubt her.

“But I think Dexter’s parents would do anything to keep you out of their daughter’s life,” Duran continued. “The stories Dexter used to tell me about them. They’re manipulative enough to be very dangerous.” He headed down the steps.

Like Duran, Lucky wasn’t certain that Howard and Lois’s parental concerns were all just threats.

He turned to go back inside, but as he reached for the door, it opened. Marin was there, and he instantly knew something was wrong. She’d probably gotten some bad news from that phone call.

“Is it your brother?” he asked.

She shook her head. “The psychologist, Dr. Ross Blevins. He called to let us know that the judge ordered that the interview be completed today.”

“Impossible.” Lucky didn’t even have to think about it. “The driver of that truck might be sitting out there, waiting for round two.” He glared at Lois and Howard. They’d no doubt tried to orchestrate scheduling the interview when both Marin and he were not mentally ready.

“I know, and that’s what I told the psychologist. But he said the judge insisted. He wants a preliminary report on his desk by close of business today.”

Lucky cursed under his breath and intensified the glare at the Sheppards. Lois at least had the decency to look a little uncomfortable. Howard, however, couldn’t quite contain his pleasure. To him, this was the next step in regaining control of his daughter.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ll call the psychologist,” Lucky told her. He hooked his arm around her waist so he could lead her back to the bedroom. “I’ll work out all of this.”

But Marin didn’t budge. “It’s too late. Dr. Blevins is already on his way over here to conduct the interview. He should be here any minute.”

“Marin was nearly murdered today,” she heard Lucky say to Dr. Blevins. Lucky had called the psychologist despite the fact the man was already en route. “The sheriff and his deputy are still here checking out the crime scene. Plus, she just got out of the hospital yesterday.”

Marin continued to feed Noah his bottle, and she tried not to react to what was going on around her. Impossible to do. She still had dirt on the knees of her jeans. Dirt she’d gotten from trying to dodge that killer truck.

Lucky’s appearance wasn’t much better. He had triple the mud and dirt that she did, and unlike her, he was definitely reacting with anger. From what she could judge from the one side of the conversation she could hear, the psychologist wasn’t going to postpone the interview.

Apparently aware that she had her attention elsewhere, Noah bucked a little and reached for her face. He pinched her chin, automatically causing Marin to smile. Looking down at him, seeing that precious little face, was all the reminder she needed that somehow she had to muster enough energy and resolve to get through this ordeal.

“This meeting needs to be rescheduled,” Lucky continued. “Marin’s attorney hasn’t arrived.” He paused again. “Yes, I know it’s not necessary for her attorney to be there, but we’d like him to be.”

Judging from his expression, that didn’t go over well with the doctor.

“I couldn’t change his mind,” Lucky growled a moment later. He jabbed the end-call button and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “He’s already here at the ranch and is waiting for us in your father’s office.”

That didn’t surprise her. Her father would want to listen in on the interview, as well. “As soon as I’m finished feeding Noah, we’ll go ahead and get this over with.”

“Take your time. Let the guy wait.” Lucky sat down on the bed beside her and brushed his fingers across Noah’s hair. Her son responded with a smile and turned to face Lucky. Noah no longer seemed interested in the bottle and instead reached for Lucky. Marin let her son go into his arms.

“No barfing, okay, buddy?” Lucky teased. He put Noah against his chest and patted his back to burp him.

It was such a simple gesture, something she’d done dozens of times. Still, today it seemed, well, special. Maybe because of the near-death experience. But it also had to do with Lucky. With the way he held her son. The genuine pleasure in his eyes from doing something that many would consider mundane and even a little gross.

“Thank you,” Marin heard herself say. Mercy, she was actually tearing up.

Lucky met her gaze over the top of Noah’s head. “For what?”

“Everything.”

But she immediately regretted that. It sounded gushy. As if she wanted this arrangement to be permanent. She didn’t. They were on opposite sides of an important issue: Dexter. Plus, after her ordeal with Randall, she wasn’t ready to risk her heart again.

Or Noah’s.

Lucky had too much personal baggage of his own to be a real father to Noah.

“The kissing has screwed things up. It gave us this…connection. And it’s complicating the heck out of this situation.”

Since Marin couldn’t deny that and since she had no idea what to say, she figured it was a good time to just sit there and listen.

“If this interview goes well…” Lucky continued a moment later. But he didn’t finish it. He didn’t have to.

“You’ll be leaving the ranch right away,” Marin finished for him. “I know. You need to find your sister.”

He brushed a kiss on Noah’s cheek. “I can’t leave until I’m certain you’re both safe.”

It was tempting to try to keep him there, but she didn’t have the right. Or the courage to make a commitment. Besides, he really did need to find his sister. She could be in serious danger. And if she was the person who’d tried to kill them, he might need to stop her from setting another explosive.

“Once the interview is done, I’ll leave the ranch, as well,” Marin assured him. “I have enough money to hire a bodyguard. Once I’m back in Fort Worth, I’ll move again. I’ll make sure no one finds Noah and me.”

Lucky stared at her. “You can’t be sure of that.”

“True. But I can’t be sure of it if you’re with me, either.” And then she played her trump card, the one thing that she knew would convince Lucky to leave. “Besides, if Dexter is behind this, Noah and I could be in even more danger just being around you.”

It stung to say that, because she didn’t believe it was true. She didn’t honestly believe Dexter would come after her, even if he was trying to get to Lucky. Still, she needed some leverage to get Lucky to budge in the only direction he should go.

Lucky made an unhappy sound deep within his throat and gave a crisp nod. That was it. No more conversation. No rebuttal of what she’d just said. That nod was all she got before he stood and started for the door.

Marin followed, of course. “We can leave Noah with my grandmother.”

He didn’t comment on that, either. Lucky merely went down the hall and knocked on her grandmother’s door. “Time for the interview,” Helen commented, taking Noah from Lucky. “Don’t let that head doctor bully you.”

Marin assured her that they wouldn’t and thanked her grandmother for watching Noah.

The walk down the hall had an ominous feel to it that only got worse when they passed the living room, and saw her parents.

“This is for your own good,” her father insisted, again.

“Is it?” Marin fired back, but she didn’t give them more than that. She didn’t want them to get any satisfaction from seeing her upset. But underneath she was well past being upset.

Dr. Ross Blevins waited in the office. She’d seen him before around town, but had never been introduced. Too bad they had to meet under these circumstances.

Wearing a dark gray suit that was almost the same color as the winter sky and his precisely groomed hair, the doctor stood in front of the bay windows, the sprawling pasture a backdrop behind him. He looked like an inquisitor with his probing blue eyes and judgmental frown.

“Mr. Davidson,” the doctor greeted Lucky. It made Marin cringe a little to hear Lucky labeled with the name of Noah’s birth father. “Ms. Sheppard. Why don’t you two sit so we can get started?”

But Lucky continued to stand, staring at the doctor. “I don’t suppose it’d do any good to object to this on the basis that Marin has already been through enough for one day.”

Dr. Blevins shook his head and remained perfectly calm. He sat at her father’s desk. “This matter should be addressed immediately.”

“Why?”

The doctor blinked. Hesitated. “Because the safety of a child is at stake.”

“Noah’s fine,” Lucky insisted. “But this entire witch hunt of which you’re obviously a major participant—or a pawn—isn’t.”

Marin took up the argument from there. “How much are my parents paying you?”

That caused a slight ruffle in his cool composure. A muscle tightened in his jaw. “The county is paying me for what will be an independent, objective assessment. But I have to tell you, you’re not off to a good start.”

“Neither are you,” Lucky fired back.

Dr. Blevins got to his feet. “At least I am who I say I am,
Mr. Davidson.
”

The room went silent, and Marin held her breath because that comment had a heavy punch to it. Coupled with the doctor’s now almost smug glare, she knew this was about to take a very ugly turn.

“Sit down,” the doctor insisted. He took his own advice and returned to her father’s chair. “And then you can explain why you two lied about your relationship.”

Marin lost her breath for a moment. Yes, this was an ugly turn. And it would no doubt get even uglier.

Lucky caught on to her hand and eased her into the chair across from where the doctor was seated. Then, he sat, as well, and they stared at the man who could ultimately take Noah away from her.

“You’re not engaged,” Dr. Blevins continued. “In fact, I suspect you’re practically strangers.”

“Why do you think that?” Lucky asked. Marin was glad he did. Her throat seemed to have snapped shut.

The doctor propped his elbows on the desk. “Because I know the truth.”

“The truth?” Lucky repeated. “I doubt that. What you know is what Marin’s parents have told you.”

“Her parents didn’t tell me. Someone else tipped me off, and then I did some investigating. I know you’re not Randall Davidson. He’s been dead for well over a year. I have a copy of his death certificate, though it wasn’t easy to get since Randall was his middle name. The certificate was filed as Mitchell R. Davidson.”

Since Marin couldn’t deny any of this, she just sat there and wondered where this was leading. Would the doctor try to use this to challenge her custodial rights? And if so, how could she stop that from happening?

She glanced at Lucky, and in that brief exchange, she could tell he was as concerned as she was. But there was something else beneath the surface. Resolve. “It’ll be okay,” he promised in a whisper.

But Marin wasn’t sure how anyone could make this okay.

Dr. Blevins stared at Lucky. “Since I know you’re not Randall Davidson, would you like to tell me who you really are?”

“Quinn Bacelli.” He paused a moment. Leaned forward. And returned the steely stare. “Marin’s fiancé.”

Marin hoped she didn’t look too surprised. But the doctor certainly did. “You’re lying.”

Lucky shook his head and slid his hand over hers. “Why would I do that?”

“To help Marin keep her son.”

“Marin doesn’t need my help for that. She’s a good mother who’s been railroaded by parents who want to control her life.” Lucky stabbed an accusing finger at Blevins. “And you’re helping them do that.”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m trying to get to the truth.”

“You have the truth. No, I’m not Noah’s biological father, but he’s my son in every way that matters.”

Lucky sounded sincere. Because he probably was. He did care deeply for her son. But would that be enough to get Dr. Blevins to back off?

“Why did you lie to everyone about who you were?” Blevins asked Lucky.

“Because I asked him to,” Marin volunteered before Lucky could answer. “I came to the ranch to visit my grandmother. I wanted the trip to be short. And I didn’t want to have to answer what I knew would be a litany of my parents’ questions about my personal relationship. I figured it would keep things simple if they thought he was Randall.”

The doctor obviously didn’t like her quick response. His forehead bunched up, and he was no doubt trying to figure out a way to challenge what she was saying because that’s what her parents had told him to do.

Marin pushed harder. “Lucky took care of my son while I was in the hospital. Do you think I’d trust a stranger to do that?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Do you think I’d have a stranger sleep in my bed?”

“Well?” Lucky challenged when the doctor only stared at them.

“I’ll have to tell the judge that you lied about your real identity,” Blevins finally said.

“Go ahead. I’ll have my attorney contact the judge, as well. And the state attorney general. Because, you see, you might think you’re doing the right thing, but I don’t believe your motives will hold up under scrutiny from someone who’s not beholden to Howard and Lois Sheppard.”

The doctor scrawled something on the paper in front of him. “Judge Carrick will get my report today. You should hear something as early as tomorrow.”

Marin wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had to hope that it would all turn out all right despite this horrible meeting.

She and Lucky stood, but the doctor spoke before they could even take a step.

“Judge Carrick tends to be conservative, even old-fashioned, when it comes to his cases,” Blevins said. It sounded as if he were choosing his words carefully. “He wants me to tell you that you’re to remain here at the ranch until you hear his decision.”

“Lucky has to leave,” Marin volunteered. “A family emergency.”

The doctor made a sound to indicate he understood. But, of course, there was no way he could. “It could take weeks or even months for someone like the state attorney general to intercede. In the mean time, Judge Carrick could give temporary custody of your son to your parents.”

Marin was glad that Lucky still had his arm around her. Still, she didn’t want Blevins to see that she was on the verge of losing it. “You can stop that from happening,” she told the doctor.

Blevins pulled in a long, weary breath and shook his head. “You were born and raised here, Marin. You know how things work.”

That chilled her to the bone. She knew how much power and influence her wealthy parents had. This session had been nothing more than a square filler, the prelude to her parents getting what they wanted—her back under their control.

“I’ll help if I can,” Dr. Blevins finally conceded. But his tone and demeanor said that his help wouldn’t do them any good.

Lucky led her out of the room. “I’ll call my lawyer and get her out here.”

Marin was so tired from the adrenaline crash and the stress that she nearly gave in. It would be so easy just to put all of this on Lucky’s shoulders. But that’s what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

“I’ll contact that attorney again in Fort Worth, and while I’m at it, I’ll phone my friend Lizette, too. If she’s back in town, I know she’ll come right away.”

Lucky nodded and caught on to her chin to force eye contact. “Are you okay?”

“No. But I will be, after I confront my parents.”

“You think that’ll help?”

“It’ll help me,” she insisted. She paused and moved closer so that her mouth was right against Lucky’s ear. “I’m thinking about taking Noah and leaving tonight.”

He didn’t stiffen, nor did he seem surprised. Lucky simply slipped his arm around her and pulled her closer. He brushed a kiss on her cheek. That kiss went through her. Warm lips against cold cheek.

“Your parents won’t give up. From the sound of it, neither will this judge. They’ll look for you. No matter where you go, they’ll keep looking.”

“What other choice do I have? I can’t let them have Noah. You heard what Dr. Blevins said about temporary custody. It could take me months to sort out everything and get Noah back. In the mean time, I’d be here, right where my parents want me to be.”