CHAPTER NINE
Sonya rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. Then smelled coffee and sat up. She could hear Missy in the kitchen, humming a tuneless melody. Her entire body ached. She touched her throat and grimaced. The stitches felt hot and uncomfortable, but nothing a couple of ibuprofen tablets couldn’t handle.
After a quick shower and an abbreviated morning routine, she made her way into the kitchen.
Missy sat at the table, her steaming mug and Bible in front of her. She looked up and smiled. “Morning.”
“Hey.”
“Coffee’s over there.”
“Thanks.”
Sonya poured herself a cup and popped two pieces of bread into the toaster.
“Are you going to tell me what happened last night or keep me in suspense until I simply burst?”
Sonya gave a small laugh, then quickly sobered. “How long did the police stay at the hospital questioning people after I left?”
“Forever. Now, what happened?”
When Sonya finished her recap of the day’s events, Missy stared wide-eyed, jaw hanging. Sonya sighed. “So now I don’t know whether I should stay here or not. I probably need to figure something else out.”
“Absolutely not.”
Sonya looked at her friend. “I appreciate your willingness to let me stay, but I won’t put you in danger.”
“I’m not giving you a choice. You’re staying right here.” She got up and walked to the window and looked out. “And cool. We have our own personal bodyguards.”
“Missy, I don’t think you understand. This person wasn’t playing around. He put a bomb under Brandon’s car.”
Missy frowned. “I know. I get that, but I still think you’d be safer here with me than off on your own somewhere. Just stay, okay?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily be on my own, but—”
“Good. Then it’s settled.”
Sonya blinked. “Missy—”
“Now, what are you going to do all day?” She narrowed her eyes at the wound on Sonya’s neck. “You should probably rest. Have you taken your antibiotic?”
Sonya sighed. “Yes, I took it this morning. And I’m meeting my neighbor for lunch to talk to her about anything my mother may have said to her before she died.”
“Well, sounds like a plan. I’m going to babysit my four-year-old niece while my sister goes to have her hair done. Will you text me throughout the day and let me know you’re all right?”
Sonya’s heart warmed. It was nice to have someone who cared. “Sure. And thanks.”
“No worries.”
“But the minute it looks like you’re being targeted because of your association with me, I’m out of here, okay?”
“Okay. Now hush and let me finish my quiet time.”
Sonya smiled and took a sip of her coffee, fixed her toast with the apple butter she found in the fridge and went into the den. Having a quiet time sounded like a wonderful idea.
* * *
At eleven-thirty, Brandon pulled up in front of Missy’s house. He waved to Peter, who’d stayed most of the night and insisted on taking the morning hours until Brandon’s arrival. Now he’d go home to sleep and be ready for more duty if Brandon needed him later.
He opened the door to step out at the same time Sonya opened the front door. She must have been waiting for him. He climbed out and went around to open the passenger door for her. “Good morning.” He noticed the hint of vanilla when she stepped close to him. The sun picked up the red highlights in her hair. Hair that looked soft and silky and made him itch to run his fingers through it.
“Hi. Thanks for picking me up.”
He balled his fingers into fists and told himself to stop. She was off-limits. For now. “No problem.”
“I’m guessing you checked under your car this morning?”
He gave a short laugh. “Trust me, I went over it with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Good.”
“And when we go to pick yours up, I’ll do the same.”
His statement silenced her for a brief moment. Then she rubbed her forehead. “I didn’t even think about that.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
She reached over and took his hand in hers and squeezed. “And I want you to know how very thankful I am for that.”
Her words shattered part of the wall around his heart, and he tightened his hand around hers even while his mind screamed at him to put the distance back, push her away. He cleared his throat. “That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks, right?”
She slipped her hand away from his, and he had no trouble discerning her cooling attitude. “Of course.” She paused. “Do you mind swinging by the Sandwich Factory? I told Mrs. Talbot I’d bring sandwiches.”
“Sonya, I—”
She turned her head to look out the window, effectively cutting him off. He wanted to kick himself. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but in fear of his growing feelings for her, his desperate need to put some space between them, he’d done just that.
He pulled away from the curb and drew in a deep breath. More vanilla. And coffee. He wondered if she liked cream and sugar in it or drank it black.
“Thank you for arranging protection last night,” she said, her tone neutral.
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad the rest of the night was uneventful.”
She blew out a breath and turned back toward him. “Me, too.” Her frostiness had melted slightly, as though she’d made up her mind not to be mad at him.
“I’d stay and watch each night if I didn’t need to be alert during the day. Peter’s a night owl anyway. He can go home and sleep.”
“So tell me about your family. There’s Peter. And I know Erica’s your sister. Any other siblings?”
“No.” He heard his curt tone, but couldn’t seem to help it. Talking about his family ranked number one on his least-favorite-things-to-do list.
This time his snappy reply didn’t seem to faze her. “I got the feeling you were close to Erica.”
“I am.”
“And you give your brother a job when he needs one. But you don’t like talking about your family.”
So she’d noticed.
Relief filled him as he pulled into the parking lot of the Sandwich Factory. She shot him a thin smile. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m coming with you.” He didn’t want her walking in alone. They’d told no one their destination, but he still wanted to stay close to her.
Together, they walked into the restaurant. She stood in line and Brandon watched her watch others. She’d become more alert, more aware of her surroundings since walking into his office two weeks ago. He was glad and pained at the same time. The line moved fast, and since she’d called the order in, they were back in the car within minutes. Sonya settled the bag at her feet.
Brandon glanced around, his senses sharp. Had they been followed? There’d been no indication anyone had been behind them, but he didn’t let that stop him from being on the alert.
“Family’s always been very important to me.” She picked up right where she’d left off and he gave a silent groan. “The possibility of finding out that my parents aren’t really my parents is scary. And incredibly hurtful. I have so many great memories with them. I just can’t picture them doing anything illegal like adopting a kidnapped child.”
He could imagine. He’d also hoped the whole family topic had been shelved. But it hadn’t. Sonya was obviously still thinking about their previous conversation. Personally, he wouldn’t mind finding out he had another set of parents somewhere, but didn’t figure he’d voice that thought. “That’s understandable.”
He could feel her gaze boring into him. “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”
He didn’t answer right away. In fact, he thought long and hard about it. She seemed to understand that he was thinking and didn’t rush his answer. Finally, he said, “I would wait until I had all the facts before I made any decisions one way or another. If the DNA results come back that you’re not related to Heather Bradley, then you can probably rest easy that you’re not adopted.”
“And if they come back saying otherwise?”
He sighed. “Then I suppose you’ll have to deal with it, but until we know for sure, let’s just focus on the facts.”
“Which are?”
“Someone doesn’t want us finding Heather Bradley and is willing to go to extreme lengths to keep us from looking for her.”
“But who? Who benefits from us not finding her?”
“The only person I can think of is the person who kidnapped her.”
“Agreed.” She thought about it. “What about their adopted son? I mean, the Bradleys have a lot of money. What if he feels threatened? Like, if I’m proven to be Heather, he’ll have to split the inheritance.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t, though. I don’t care about their money. I just want the truth.”
He nodded. “I thought about that. I’ve got my partner, Hector, looking into him in addition to anyone who was close to the family at the time Heather disappeared.”
“Why do you think it was someone close?”
“Heather disappeared from the church nursery. Whoever took her is someone who fit in at the church and didn’t stand out in any way. I read the report and all of the interviews done the day of the kidnapping. It was really pretty thorough. No one reported seeing anyone strange that Sunday. No one who made them stop twice for a second look.”
“What about visitors?”
“The church was the largest one in town. They had visitors every Sunday. Visitors had the option to fill out a visitor card—or not. So even if we had a list of everyone who attended that day, there’s no guarantee the person who took Heather filled anything out.”
“No, the kidnapper wouldn’t have wanted to leave any kind of trace. And if it was someone in the church, he—or she—would have known about the visitor cards.”
“Right. So, Hector’s looking into Mr. Bradley’s business connections back then. See if anything makes a blip on the radar.” He turned onto Mrs. Talbot’s street and Sonya looked over at her mother’s house. Now hers. It looked absolutely normal with no sign of the drama that had played out last night.
He parked the car and Mrs. Talbot stepped out onto her front porch, a wide smile of greeting on her lined face. She waved. “Come on in. I’ve got desserts all ready for after the sandwiches.”
“Desserts?” he whispered.
“She’s a baker. Trust me, you’ll love anything she puts in front of you.”
His mouth started watering before his foot hit the first step.
Sonya stepped inside the familiar foyer and her throat clogged with tears. As a child, she’d grown up about an hour and a half away, but her mother had always loved Spartanburg, having lived here until she met Sonya’s father.
Throughout Sonya’s childhood, they’d made trips to visit, always stopping to see Mrs. Talbot, who became like a grandmother to Sonya. Sonya’s mother and Mrs. Talbot might have had a twenty-year age difference, but they’d been tight friends.
When the house across the street had come up for sale, shortly after Sonya had gone off to college, her father had purchased it and her parents moved home. Sonya finished undergraduate school, then graduate. One semester away from fulfilling her dream of becoming a doctor, she’d come home to take care of her mother.
A woman who might not be her mother.
Sonya introduced Brandon to the woman. Mrs. Talbot grinned. “So, you’re Sonya’s young man, are you?”
Brandon lifted a brow and glanced at Sonya. She knew her face was three different shades of red. “No, Mrs. Talbot, we’re…friends,” she answered before Brandon had a chance to say anything. No sense in going into everything right now.
“Well, if you’re not smart enough to snag him, I might have a go at it.” She winked at Brandon and turned toward the kitchen, fingers clutched around the sandwich bag. “Handsome thing like that, girl’s got no sense if she’s not going after that one….” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Sonya sighed and shook her head. “I told you.”
Brandon grinned. “This is going to be interesting, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.” He shut the door behind them, but not before she saw him take a look down the street, first to the right, then to the left. “See anything?”
The door snicked closed. “No.”
“But you think someone followed us?”
“I don’t know. I just want to be careful not to let my guard down.”
She nodded. “I’m going to help Mrs. Talbot.”
“I’m going to watch the street.”
Sonya frowned. “All right.” His vigilance hit home. The niggling thought that she might be putting the older woman in danger just by being in her house wouldn’t leave her alone. Sonya decided they probably needed to eat and talk and get out as fast as they could without being rude.
Mrs. Talbot hummed as she worked, setting the sandwiches on her fine china. “Why don’t you pour the tea, child?”
Sonya smiled. She’d always be a child to this dear lady. She did as instructed. “Do you mind if I ask you a couple of strange questions?”
“Strange questions?”
“About my mother.”
Grief flashed across Mrs. Talbot’s face. “No, I don’t mind. I love talking about your mother. Goodness, I do miss that woman.”
“I know.” Sonya swallowed against the instant tears. “I miss her, too.”
“Your father, too. He was such a good man. Loved your mother and you like I’ve never seen before. Would have done anything for the two of you.”
“Yes, I know. Daddy was a wonderful man.”
Mrs. Talbot cocked her head toward the den area, where Brandon was. “That one got potential?”
Sonya refused to blush. “He’s helping me with something.”
“What’s that?”
“I found something in Mom’s closet when I was going through her house, getting it ready for the estate sale.”
Mrs. Talbot paused and studied her. “Something that has you troubled. What was it?”
“A baby bag with a birth certificate.”
“Yours?”
“No. It belonged to a baby named Heather Bradley. Did Mom ever say anything about it?”
“No, she never did.”
“You saw her in her last days. Did you notice how troubled she was?”
A sigh slipped from the woman’s lips. “Well, truth be told, I did notice she seemed fairly agitated, but I thought she was just in pain.”
She had been in pain, of course. “I think it was more than the physical pain of her disease. I think it was something else.”
“Like what?”
Frustration filled Sonya. “Like something was on her mind and troubling her.” She sighed. “I wish I knew.”
“And I wish I could help you, honey, but I can’t recall anything. She never said a word to me about anything that was troubling her. Other than leaving you, of course. She hated to leave you.”
Sonya’s throat closed and she fought the tears that wanted to flow.
Mrs. Talbot motioned toward the table. “Call your young man in here and let’s eat.”
Sonya nodded and took a deep breath. She wouldn’t cry. She didn’t have time for tears. If she could stay focused on the goal of finding out about the baby bag and Heather Bradley, she would be all right.
Throughout lunch, Sonya asked question after question and finally realized she wasn’t going to get any more information from Mrs. Talbot. Although she had to admit watching Brandon gently field the woman’s flirtatious comments was quite amusing.
He even thrilled Mrs. Talbot by flirting back a bit. Lighthearted and innocent, the woman giggled like a schoolgirl. Sonya thought it was charming and sweet and said a lot about Brandon’s true personality. She found herself drawn even more to the man.
When Mrs. Talbot wasn’t flirting, she enjoyed reminiscing and telling stories about Sonya’s mother, but repeated that she had no idea about Heather Bradley or what her friend might have been so agitated about in the last few weeks of her life.
Brandon and Sonya left with promises to visit again soon. Sonya climbed into Brandon’s car and shut the door.
He slipped in beside her. “She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it mildly, but I love her.”
“I can see why. I wonder if my siblings and I would have turned out different if we’d had someone like her in our lives.”
His personal comment made her pause. “What do you mean?”
He flushed. “Nothing. It’s not important.”
She huffed. “Is it just me? Or do you shut everyone out?”
He stiffened. “I don’t shut everyone out.”
“Okay.”
He drove for the next few minutes in silence. “I don’t.”
“Okay.”
He tapped the wheel with his hands and hummed an eighties tune she recognized, but couldn’t name. He stopped humming. “Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Another long pause. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I think it’s just become a habit with you.”
He didn’t answer and she looked at him, ready to repeat the statement, but the look on his face stopped her. He was staring into the mirror, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. “What is it?” she asked.
“We’ve got company and I don’t think it’s the good kind.”