"This is too much." She took her arm away. Once she did he could breathe. "Come with me to my bedroom, Officer. I have boxes of information near the door."

  Officer was his title. She was smart to keep things professional and impersonal. He could handle a police investigation. It was what he was trained to do. He followed her out of the library and caught a glimpse of his sister, Caro, and the doctor/boyfriend he had met at a bar. Liz had the same exact eye shape and color as Luke. He glared at Caro as he asked Liz, "Is Luke your brother?"

  Puzzled, she looked over her shoulder at the doctor and Caro in the living area. "Yeah, why?"

  He’d failed his father twice now. His sister should know better. Rafe shook his head and turned away from Caro as he placed his hand on Liz's lower back. "My sister forgot to tell anyone she was out with a Morgan, but let's get back to work."

  Liz swayed on her feet, but said nothing. Then she led him down the hall and opened a side door. The brightness of the room struck him. Everything was white and pristine, with no color at all, except for the empty baby crib. The blue blanket seemed wrinkled, though at the moment it was thrown in, but Rafe suspected she probably held it every night. His tongue clicked behind his teeth as he turned toward the boxes she placed at his feet.

  He knelt down and picked up another photograph. This was the boy he’d met last week. His hair was darker and his cheeks less round. The eyes were the same, but he had his mother's smile. It must be true. The child was his. Careful to keep his expression blank, he glanced at Liz who kneeled between him and the boxes. "What am I looking at?"

  "That was a picture I took with my phone of Brandon the day we went to the mall." She sniffled as she shoved a still photo in his hands, straightening. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears. Rafe stood and grabbed tissues from a box on top of the dresser and offered them to her, maintaining eye contact.

  "The studio image was taken the same day. I had a contract with a gallery there, and it was his birthday. He was well dressed and handsome." His son had been targeted because his last name was Morgan. Rafe should have protected him better. His heart caved. He should have been there to help Liz, if he’d only known.

  He placed his hand on her back as she said, "But this one, this one mattered to the other detectives.” Her voice broke into sobs. “I printed it out and I’ve studied it every day. The woman circled in the picture is the one we met at the mall."

  The murder victim from Jose Perez’s case stared at him. The dead boyfriend of the woman he’d seen a week ago matched the man's height.

  The sister of the victim was given custody of the boy. My son. He kept his mouth shut as the facts of the murder case swam in his head. He needed to ask for those files and read the homicide case in more detail. He didn't dare blink. "So, you were followed from the mall?"

  She swayed on her feet and then sat. He joined her on the floor, cross-legged. Liz clutched a wad of tissues as her face paled. "The image is blurry. She hasn’t been found."

  "She might be dead." Rafe whispered, instinctively offering hope, but Liz inhaled and began to tremble.

  She clutched his shoulder, then bunched his shirt in her fist. "No. Brandon has to be alive."

  "I meant this woman,” he corrected. “If she's who I think, then I met our very much alive son, but I have to check. I didn't want to tell you—"

  Her skin went white as she almost fell over, though she put her other hand on the crib as he held her. “You saw him?”

  “Yeah. Last week.” He clearly won for Jerk of the Day by saying the absolute wrong thing—he had no idea how to comfort Liz. He reached out and took her hand. Her eyes widened but she didn't pull away. "Don't cry Liz. If my hunch is right, then I'll find him and bring him to you."

  "You saw him, after he was kidnapped?"

  "I think." He knew better than to say anything. His throat was parched, but he couldn't take his words back. He averted his gaze. "I need all the facts. Don't get your hopes up. I could be wrong."

  Tears pooled in her eyes. "Too late. If you know where he is, I'll go with you."

  Absolutely not. Something might have happened in the few days, and Liz needed to stay out of this. Besides, he'd be faster without her. "Not a good idea. I need you to stay here and let me handle the police work."

  Her face went red then she wiped her eyes. "I'll try."

  Right now he had no idea who Liz should trust, but his first priority was his son. "Thank you. Don't tell your family until I find Brandon."

  "Not a problem. You know my father, Mitch Morgan, died." John Morgan, her brother, had joined the FBI to get information on his father concerning the 'death' of his sister Victoria that he had blamed on Mitch. Liz scooted closer to him and whispered, "The seven investigators believe that my father was likely the one who ordered my son to be taken from me, just as he stole Victoria's daughter from her on the day she was born. What happened to my sister was in all the newspapers."

  “I was there.” Her father had been cold-hearted and a chill went down his own spine as he remembered Mitch Morgan’s blue eyes. Victoria had returned from the grave at his funeral, revealing that her father had told her that her daughter had died at birth. “I helped Victoria and Colt.” Colt raised the little girl and now all three were a happy family. Mitch Morgan had plans for his children that they themselves didn't want.

  How much did Liz know?

  Once Victoria came back to Miami, she’d found her daughter very much alive and being raised by the man her own father disapproved of. Last there was Peter Morgan, brought up by Mitch to be just like him. New Morgans meant more trouble and Luke, Liz and her other brother were unknown dangers. "It came as a surprise to find your mother alive, and that she had three more children."

  "Were you at the engagement party we crashed a few weeks ago?"

  "No, I generally avoid the social situations as my mother has to clean up any messes. She’s been a maid at the Morgan house since I was a kid.” He stared at her to see if her gaze became as cold as Mitch’s, but she never blinked. “I'd have done anything to protect our son, if I had known."

  "I see that."

  He didn't break the connection with Liz as he squeezed her hand. "Yeah. I believe that, but let’s stick to what happened while you were at the mall, so that I have a full picture."

  She took a deep breath, but this time didn't cry. He inhaled her sweet scent of vanilla. "Yes. I was walking in the mall, pushing Brandon in the stroller. It was bright and sunny out, and people were passing us on the sidewalk. I needed a present for my brother Matthew, he’s getting an Oscar nomination, when this woman stopped me and asked for directions."

  Oscar nomination? He'd ask about her brother later, but if he was famous that brought in more possibilities to think about. The murder of the woman remained unsolved, but Brandon took precedence. "The same one in the car?"

  Her hands shook. "Yes, but I didn't know that then."

  Now he didn't dare move. She had to finish telling him what happened. "Keep going."

  She took another deep breath, closed her eyes, but didn't otherwise move. "She seemed confused so I took my hands off the stroller for one second to get a piece of paper out of my pocketbook."

  A set up, but he kept his mouth closed. He massaged her arm again and whispered, "Then?"

  “Winter in Los Angeles is bright, like here, and the sun blinded me.” She shook her head. "Then this man came from nowhere and took my boy. I tried to grab him, but the woman sprayed my face with pepper spray."

  In his mind's eye, he could picture Liz screaming for her son. Her quiet sobs brought him back. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. "I'm sorry. Don't cry now Liz. I will find your Brandon."

  She squeezed his shoulder. "Our Brandon."

  The crime scene from last week might have had Brandon's DNA run too. Rafe would ask the lab. He gently stroked Liz’s hair. "I don't want to think about that. It will cloud my judgment."

  "He's your son.” She curled both her hands around her waist to hug herself. “Your blood is in his veins."

  Her words acted like a sonar. “Who was running your case from the police?”

  “Jose Perez.”

  “He knows I always handle the Morgan cases. I wonder why he didn’t tell me about yours? You couldn’t have named me as a person of interest because you didn’t know it.”

  "Right. I didn’t answer if he did. Officer Perez mentioned that the usual officer my brother recommended was on a break.”

  "I took a few days off to help a friend move. Maybe that's why no one told me about your case." Jose Perez never spoke about the two bodies found in the car with his son except in the weekly meeting. He’d have to find out more.

  She opened her eyes and her gaze unnerved him. "Rafe, I love my son. If you can bring him home, I'll be in your debt forever. I don't care about the why. I just want him safe and home."

  Debt was not what he wanted. He stood and then offered his hands to her. She ignored him and rose without help. He squared his shoulders. "Liz, if that boy is my son, then once I get him to you, we're going to have to find a way to get along. I don't father children and then abandon them."

  She swept her long, blonde hair out of her face. "We'll talk then. I just hope your memory is right and you know where he is. Bring him home, fast."

  "I will." He took a few more tissues and cleaned her face as he whispered, "Now wipe your eyes. People will think I gave you the worst news when there is hope. Please don't tell anyone he's mine for a few days."

  Her eyes widened. "Why?"

  Having a son changed everything. He licked his lips unable to say that. Instead he focused on what he was good at, which was solving crime. "Because if the word is out before he's home, his return could be complicated."

  "Not a problem. Good luck." She dropped her hands to her sides and trembled until she grabbed the nearby door frame.

  Her sweet smell he remembered from Vegas. Elizabeth Morgan's face could light up a room far more than all those slot machines and he wanted to return that smile she once shone. Somehow he'd help her and find his son.

  The House of Morgan

  Secret Crush

  Secret Baby

  Secret Bet

  Secret Wish

  Secret Dad

  Secret Heir

  Secret Tryst

  Secret Date (Coming Soon)

  And don’t forget to pick up Returning for Valentine’s (FREE if you go to my website)

  Secret Heir Preview

  Mitch Morgan III, on the verge of collapse from sheer exhaustion, stared down the long, empty hall of his mother’s penthouse suite overlooking the Mississippi River. Fiona Dupree had just passed. He’d never tell a soul, but he felt as if he could at last sleep, now that his mother no longer needed him to be awake.

  Footsteps echoed on the silk carpet runner and he glanced at the nurse who had been at his mother’s side. A new woman, Marie or something. She quickly averted her gaze as she handed him paperwork, then picked up the phone and called the funeral home, her whispers secretive. Was she trying to spare his feelings?

  This was it. Mitch stood from the padded armchair and returned the papers allowing transport of his mother's remains.

  “I’m sorry,” the nurse murmured without once looking at him.

  Mitch lowered his eyes. He was done with accepting apologies for things out of anyone's control. The end had been coming for over a year. Fiona was now at peace.

  He hoped she’d found solace. It was time for him and his brothers to make amends, starting with a call to Axel. His mother's heart attack had come a month after Axel exploded during a bitter family argument, saying Fiona never should have loved their father—a married man.

  Part of Mitch understood the feeling. His father had only been there part-time, making their mom happy for those few months he was around. Then he’d leave again, crushing her, until he found time to be away from his legitimate family and with them once more. These last months, his mother had fretted that his father’s wife would not allow her to be buried next to the man she loved.

  Waiting for paperwork took too long. Once the nurse nodded at him, letting him know everything was complete, Mitch walked away. With every step, he knew he'd never return—they’d hire a company to clean the penthouse and put it up for sale. His mind swirled.

  The need to prove himself itched at his skin and the very fiber of his being. His banking empire was the fastest growing business in New Orleans, and the offers to buy it rolled in daily. He'd never sell. This was his ticket to wrestle the House of Morgan and Morgan Enterprises out of Peter's hands. Their father had another family, a real family. When his dad had died, he and his brothers hadn’t even been invited to the funeral.

  They had always been second, but now that his mother was gone, nothing would stop him from being number one.

  Mitch made his way outside. The sun and humidity hitting his skin made him long for a shower. Thirty seconds later, his driver pulled up to the curb. Without waiting for him to get out and open his door, Mitch slipped inside.

  "The church, Pierre."

  Mitch slumped into his seat and took his cell phone out of his pocket. Galen and Damien needed to be told right away. He took a deep breath. Signing the papers had been as surreal as holding her hand while she passed. The end had been so quiet that he’d sat for another hour, waiting, just in case the nurse was wrong. Galen wouldn’t have to take the next eight-hour shift at their mother’s penthouse.

  Mitch dialed, his brother answering on the first ring. "Hello?"

  "Galen..." The sentence wouldn't form in his throat. How did he tell him their mom was gone? Galen was patient and funny and made Mom laugh.

  Silence hung in the air as Pierre drove into the French Quarter.

  "Has Mom...?" Galen’s sentence trailed off.

  "Yeah."

  “Damien?”

  “I’ll call him next.”

  Galen coughed. Hard heels clapped against wood and Mitch imagined him pacing his office. "Mitch, this sucks. Have you found Axel?"

  The angry one.

  Axel had stormed out the day they all received their inheritance, telling the banker his money could burn for all he cared—and then his fight with their mother. None of them had seen their brother since, well except on TV.

  Mitch clutched his phone. "I’ll call him, too."

  Galen let out a breath. "Tell you what, I'll get Damien. We'll meet you at the penthouse."

  He wouldn’t spend another second there. He closed his eyes. "No. Mom wanted her service at St. Louis Cathedral. Meet me there and we can go over her list of things she wanted.”

  Mitch heard a jingle of keys, then a door opening, and closing. Galen chuckled sorrowfully. Two beeps sounded as he unlocked his car. "I just hope the church doesn’t fall down around me."

  None of the brothers were as religious as Fiona had raised them. "Just show up, Galen, that would make Mom happy.”

  Their mom wanted them to stick together, no matter what. Her voice replayed in his mind. “Family matters. You boys will only have each other someday.” She’d made Galen, Damien, and Mitch all swear not to bother Axel, hoping he'd come home on his own.

  Axel always let his stubbornness get the better of him. Mitch sighed. He should have called his brother sooner, despite their mother's opinion.

  Galen said, "I'll call Damien—see you in a few.”

  The driver turned onto Royal Street as Mitch dialed Axel. Two rings later, he heard the phone click, but no words. Mitch swallowed around the ache in his throat. "Axel?"

  "I'm busy, Mitch," Axel mumbled.

  "Mom died."

  None of the past mattered. Mitch's shoulders slumped in exhaustion. He pressed his lips together and waited for his brother to realize what he’d said.

  "What?" Axel shifted, muffling the speaker and then in a clearer tone asked, "How? When?"

  If he were Axel, he'd be extremely angry. At least Mitch had the chance to hold her hand and listen to her advice about not seeking revenge and finding a pretty woman to settle down with. This past year, his mother suddenly became big on marriage, although she had never married. She’d said she’d realized her mistake and didn’t want her kids to make the same. Not that Mitch blamed marriage—it was love that made you insane.

  "Heart attack, months ago, but she’s been growing weaker and more frail since. She's finally at rest."

  "I didn't know."

  Axel's anguish echoed through him. If their roles were reversed, Mitch would want to be alone so no one saw his tears. As the responsible one, he’d sat at her side, though her sudden turn for the worse at the end made him numb. He closed his eyes and wished he had called his brother sooner. He would have wanted to at least say goodbye. Now Axel wouldn’t have his chance, not like the rest of them had.

  Mitch massaged the bridge of his nose. "She didn't want to make you feel guilty—she understands your anger."

  "Well, I do now. It wasn't her I was mad at, anyway. Not really."

  The strain in Axel's voice was naked, raw, and full of pain. Mitch believed him.

  Pierre parked the town car at the curb. He’d take the path through the garden, to the cathedral. Their mother would want them all there. Plus, he wanted to see Axel again—he missed his brother.

  "Will you come home for the funeral? We are meeting at St. Louis Cathedral to discuss the arrangements."

  "Of course." His brother sounded like he hit a wall or something. “I’ll get my band to either cancel the next stop or hire a guest for the gig.”

  "See you soon,” Mitch said softly as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Indigo 5 could do without their keyboardist for a few days.

  He pocketed his phone, staring out the car window. The stress was too much. He focused on every breath, inhale and exhale, like the counting would help him get through this sorrow.

  Pierre turned from the front seat and interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Morgan, you're getting a call."

  "I don't care about business today." Mitch reached for the interior handle. There was no peace to be had. He opened the door and climbed out.

  The driver hopped out and raced around to Mitch’s side, one hand on the roof of the town car. "Your mom was a good woman. May she rest in peace."