Randy was shaking his head. “The woman...she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, and those kids...he was going to kill them all...”

  Randy and the deputies with him had managed to shoot the man first, saving the young woman and her kids who, it turned out, were the man’s daughter and grandchildren. One of the crimes the man was wanted for was killing his wife—the young woman’s mother. And, as it happened, the daughter was wanted for murder, too. Of her husband, the father of her children.

  It was a twisted tale. One of the worst Randy had ever seen. And there was more. They’d found the guy’s DNA through a brother who’d been incarcerated for decades for killing their drunken father—a man who’d probably beat on them but who, at the time of the murder, had been asleep in his bed.

  Randy eventually filled his plate. And while they ate, they talked about the charges being brought, arraignment, bail possibilities based on the charges...all things that Seth could contribute to in a way that reassured his father that justice would be done.

  “It’s like it was in their blood,” Randy said as the two of them stood in the driveway by Seth’s car as Seth was getting ready to leave just after dark. The dishes were done. They had played a game or two of pool on the table that had also been in the basement, along with laundry facilities, for Seth’s entire life.

  “This whole DNA thing, it’s important,” Randy continued. Seth’s father had always been a talker. Seth had figured maybe that was why he’d tended to be more the reticent type. He’d had little opportunity to get a word in edgewise when he was growing up. “I keep thinking about all those deaths...”

  Seth didn’t disagree with his father. He’d learned enough, seen enough real cases, to know that certain propensities came from certain chemicals in the brain, or an odd wiring of other biological components.

  With his father’s emotional upheaval so clearly in the forefront of his mind, Seth headed back down toward San Diego with a mind more active than peaceful. DNA mattered. Biology mattered. His genetics—a compilation of his father’s family and his mother’s—were unique, providing distinct chemical characteristics and genetic combinations that could determine some of a child’s struggles and challenges, as well as successes. How could that impact the child Annie was carrying?

  The thought, once there, wouldn’t let go, and he got his father on the phone. Asked him to gather up the genealogy paperwork his grandmother had compiled years ago, before her death, and to add to it whatever his father knew, and then send it to him. He told his father that he was doing a personal assessment, which he most definitely was, and left it at that. And Randy, being one of the greatest dads ever, sent it back before Seth had completed even the three-hour drive home. His dad didn’t know a lot in terms of family diagnoses, but said he’d written what he knew as a cover page and he’d added the few things he knew about Seth’s mom’s family.

  The task had been good for Randy. Seth could tell from the calmer tone in his father’s voice. He’d had a particularly rough day on the job, and Seth had been able to ease a bit of residual emotional overload for him.

  It felt good—being in a relationship where he contributed positively. And it felt good having a father.

  Something his child would never know.

  Chapter Seven

  The text came through Wednesday night, right before bedtime.

  Are you up?

  Waiting for a cup of herbal tea to heat in the microwave, Annie read the text on her watch. She’d earlier marked a big yellow X on the calendar hanging on her fridge. Eighteen days since implantation. She’d made it through a full second week of pregnancy, as all of the previous colorful marks proclaimed. She was using primary colors, and the bold reds, yellows and blues were making a rainbow of celebration each day that passed.

  Work remained largely the same, as she’d opted to wait to tell anyone besides Christa and the captain about her pregnancy until she’d passed the third critical month. For the same reasons she’d chosen not to tell anyone about the implantation. She had enough keeping her mind distracted with worry without people constantly asking her how she was doing, showing concern, or even just giving her looks of curiosity. And in case something went wrong, she’d be much better equipped to deal with the residual grief if she could just go to work and not have everyone know.

  And it wasn’t like her job required her to be out on the streets, or in positions of danger, on a regular basis anymore. Her only real time with perpetrators was in interrogation rooms, and even that was only as needed, when a detective requested her expertise.

  Her phone was across the room, on the counter by the archway leading into the great room. That area flowed into a large living space, where her couch beckoned for a few minutes of streaming a mindless sitcom to clear her mind before bed.

  She was in wind-down mode. Didn’t need to deal with anything further that day.

  Most particularly not the ex-husband who seemed to be creeping back into her daily consciousness at a rate that she knew to be somewhat concerning. Noteworthy, at the very least.

  Whatever Seth needed to tell her, or ask, could wait for morning. It wasn’t like the baby’s life could be in danger. She was the one in possession of any current embryonic development information that existed. And right now, that information consisted of the news that she was still pregnant and exhibiting no signs of anything out of the ordinary.

  Everything was status quo. Thank God.

  And maybe Seth needed to know that. He cared, at least a little bit. Even if she hadn’t known him so well, she’d have figured out his phone calls showed a level of thought toward her situation. Most particularly the request to see paperwork regarding the baby’s guardianship.

  Maybe that was why he’d texted. Just to follow up on legalities. She’d said she’d have him look things over. And then let it all drop. She hadn’t even brought the matter up with Christa yet. Until there was a viable fetus, until she knew whether the embryo had implanted itself in her uterus, and needed guardianship, she didn’t want to jinx things.

  Which was why she hadn’t started on a nursery yet, either, other than the mental planning stage.

  The microwave dinged. Her tea was done. Taking the cup out of the oven built in above her stove, she tentatively touched the edge of the cup to her lips. Sipping carefully. Hoping the lavender-infused liquid would calm the sudden clamoring within her.

  But knew it wouldn’t.

  She couldn’t let Seth’s message go unanswered. He was Seth. The only man who’d ever had the power to move her so completely. There’d been times when it had felt like the universe only held the two of them.

  Besides, she’d been thinking more and more, about how much she’d love to have him in her baby’s life. For the child’s sake. Only if Seth wanted to be there, of course. But if he did want that, or even if there was a possibility that he might want that, she had to do everything she could to ease his way.

  Picking up her phone, she typed, Yeah, I’m still up.

  * * *

  Seth had just about given up on getting a text back that night when Annie’s reply came through. Picking up his phone, he went out to sit in a chair by the pool where he could relax in the late-August evening warmth, beneath a moon that pretty much lit up the backyard. He’d already had his swim. He was shirtless and in cotton pajama pants; the night air felt good to his skin.

  He was going to text back, but hit Call instead before he could analyze the good or bad in doing so.

  “Hey, Seth, what’s up?”

  He liked the way she answered the phone these days. What’s up? Like they were old friends.

  “I’m sending a document over to you,” he said. “It’s ready to go. I just wanted to give you a heads-up so you know what it is when you see it come in.”

  A text could have alerted her to the email.

  “What kind of document?”

  “It’s a family history. The stuff that doesn’t generally show up on all the genetic tests we did. You know, things like my grandfather having exhibited symptoms of ADHD his whole life, so he probably had it, but they didn’t have that diagnosis back then. He was above average intelligent, but was not a good book learner and couldn’t keep his concentration in one place very long, unless it was in a place that vastly interested him. And my great-grandmother played instruments by ear. Those types of things. My grandmother did our family genealogy back when that was just becoming a thing and she wrote what she knew about each person on the family tree. And then my father also put in his own notes.” He wasn’t generally so long-winded, unless he was in court, arguing a case.

  And for some reason, that was what the conversation kind of felt like to him.

  Though what case he was arguing, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like she’d refuse to read the email.

  “Okay.” She didn’t argue at all. Or seem to give his gift all that much weight, either. “Thank you,” she added as he had the thought. As though she could read his mind.

  There’d been a time in his life when he’d have believed she could.

  When he’d known she could.

  “I was up with my dad today and he had this case...” He told her about it, in almost as much detail as his father had given, because she lived in that world. She’d get it. And when his recitation ended, he knew she got more than the case.

  “That’s why you’re sending the family information,” she said. “Thank you, Seth. You’re... I just...thank you.”

  He heard the warmth in her tone and smiled.

  His penis started to get a bit hard, too. Which, while wholly unwelcome, wasn’t completely unexpected. Annie had always been able to get him going...even with just a particular tone in her voice. He sat forward, frowning. Would have ended the call, but right then she asked, “How’s Randy doing?”

  She’d loved his old man. More so probably since hers had died so young.

  “He’s great,” he told her, leaning back again. Told her that his father was still working full-time. Still had a full head of hair. Still lived in the same house. And had still beaten him at the pool table that day, too.

  “You just don’t like the game enough to be that good at it,” she said with a chuckle. And he nodded. She was right, of course.

  There was rarely a time when Annie wasn’t right. “So, how’s your mom?”

  Chelsea Whitaker Bolin had to be over the moon with news of the baby. After all, the woman who could have been heir to nearly a billion dollars had walked away without looking back because love meant more to her than any money ever would.

  There’d been a time when a younger Annie had confided her hope that maybe his dad and her mom could get together, in a romantic sense. But while the two had been friendly enough, they’d each claimed their own private time with Seth and Annie, coming together only for major holidays. And when Seth and Annie had split, each parent had sided completely with their own child. Randy understood Seth’s inability to see a cop as a wife and mother, after Seth had lost his own mother so tragically.

  And Chelsea...she’d doted on Seth, adored him like the son she’d never had—until he’d hurt her daughter. Then she’d just quietly wished him well and walked away. Wouldn’t answer his calls. And his Christmas card to her had been returned unopened.

  “She died, Seth. Five years ago.”

  He swallowed, his gaze suddenly blurring. “She...what? How? Oh, God, Annie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea...”

  “It’s okay.” He could feel her sadness. And hear it, too. “It was a freak boating accident. No one was at fault. She was out on a lake up north with friends she’d known since college. A girls’ weekend at a cottage and...”

  Her voice trailed off.

  “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “They all were. Mom was the only one who didn’t make it, though.”

  He felt sick. Physically and otherwise, too. “Oh, God. I’m just so sorry...”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have known.”

  He should have been there for her. Chelsea was the only family Annie knew. To think...

  He burned with guilt.

  “I chose not to contact you,” she told him. And it hit him. She’d said five years. He’d been married to Stella then.

  He seemed to have a propensity for royally screwing up relationships. He might be a decorated lieutenant commander in the US navy, but when it came to women...he shook his head again.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Annie. I loved Chelsea, too. So much.” She’d stepped in and become a mother to him from day one. Not replacing the one he’d lost, but honoring her and being her own person in his life. Even as a young man he’d noticed the difference. And appreciated her sensitivity. That first Christmas he’d been with them, Chelsea had asked, What was your mother’s specialty? Your favorite holiday dish of hers? And then she’d asked for the recipe and followed it exactly.

  He swallowed. Wished he’d brought a beer outside with him. Life wasn’t meant to be so tough.

  “It’s okay,” Annie said softly, after a couple of seconds. “Christa and Brett, her husband, were there with me the whole time.”

  Christa again. A woman he knew nothing about.

  Except to know that he was grateful she was there for Annie. That she’d stepped up where Seth felt he had somehow failed.

  And there it was again...the failure. During the last months of his marriage to Annie, that feeling had been prevalent in every conversation he’d tried to have with her. It got to the point where he’d get a pit in his gut every time he saw Annie’s name come up on his phone. So much of that time she’d been deployed overseas and their face-to-face conversations were on the computer. Seeing her, needing her, being unable to touch her, to hold her, and then to have their conversations be in completely different hemispheres, as well...

  That all had been hard. But when their life goals didn’t mesh anymore, either...

  Yeah, they’d done the right thing in splitting up.

  And he’d done the right thing in giving her ownership of the embryos.

  “You keep calling at night,” Annie said, when, in other conversations, she’d have already said goodbye.

  Was she feeling...this...this...thing...between them, too? Like they should be more than they were, but couldn’t be?

  He’d thought she’d be long and completely over him by now. But seeing each other again...and the whole pregnancy thing that would be ripe with emotions on its own...maybe they just had to stand strong and get through the rough waters. They were both navy. They knew how to sail.

  “I call when I’m done with my responsibilities for the day,” he told her, not wanting her to read any more into his attention than that. Whatever his struggles, baby and not, he wasn’t putting them on her. Or building on quicksand. “And by the way, thanks for the referral to Kinder. We’re going to put something together at the community center, a basketball tournament, to start, with law enforcement and teenagers teaming up to battle it out against other law enforcement and teenagers. It’s got to start with a level of trust...”

  He’d walked himself right into that one. He and Annie had once reveled in their shared trust in each other. It had been a key component of the wedding vows they’d written.

  And relationships ended with broken trust. As they both well knew.

  He waited for her to respond with a quick and professional goodbye. “You live alone?” she asked instead. Ignoring completely his reference to Kinder.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  He didn’t return the question. Couldn’t contemplate whether or not there was another man in her life—one who would be stepfather to his child. That they’d be raising the child as their own—only needing Seth because he’d been the one to make embryos with Annie’s healthy eggs. There was no room for the swirling emotions that thought unleashed. Jealousy. Anger—at himself, but the possible other guy, too.

  But...wait...she’d said that Christa was going to be the baby’s guardian. So that would mean...

  Unless Christa and her husband were guardian to Annie and what’s-his-name’s kid in the event something happened to both of them.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” Annie’s tone was soft, almost curious. And...easy. Not like she was going through the rage of emotions attacking him.

  “I see people,” he said. “But not long enough for attachments to form. After things ended with Stella, I had to take a long look at myself and realize that I was the problem. I lack flexibility.”

  “You do, somewhat, sometimes, but you also take time to consider both sides, Seth. And...when you can, you eventually come around.” The immediate response settled some of the storm inside him. If only because it made him curious enough to get his head out of the darker places. “Even now, Seth...you don’t want children, they aren’t your dream anymore. You were happy thinking the embryos had been destroyed. And yet you had the flexibility to allow me to have what I needed.”

  That was different. He’d owed her. Paying debts didn’t count.

  “And your work at the community center. No way that office is conducive to you doing your job the way you like to do it. You want the walls lined with law books in the event you need to refer to them. But you make do.”

  He did prefer pretty much any other office he’d ever worked in to the one at the center. But... “Anything I need to reference is digital now, and I have my computer with me.”

  “How about your plans for dinner on Sunday? You said your dad was going to grill out, but he was on the case and you thawed a pork roast and had it ready when he got home...”

  He didn’t realize he’d gone into so much detail in the telling.