SH Medical 08 - The Baby Dilemma (4 page)

“That’s it? Short?”

“Flirtatious.”

“Assertive?” Paige offered.

“More…passive-aggressive.”
The type who punishes her husband for not wanting kids by having an affair. And then marrying the guy she cheated with.
“And unfaithful, but let’s not go into that.”

She took in the information thoughtfully. “How long have you been divorced, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“It’s been final for two years.” While they were on the subject, might as well satisfy his curiosity. While he
could
access public records, Mike preferred not to snoop on his friends. “You ever been married?”

“Nope,” she said.

“Engaged?”

“Not even close.” Paige halted so abruptly he nearly stumbled.

“What’s wrong?” He hadn’t meant to broach a touchy subject.

“I felt dizzy. Sorry.”

“Too much exercise right after eating.” She did look pale beneath the dusting of freckles. As Mike guided her off the dance floor, he felt an urge to protect her, the way he’d once protected his younger siblings. “It’s not as if we have a shortage of doctors around. Want me to fetch one?”

“Once I sit down, I’ll be fine.”

Empty places at her table indicated her friends must be dancing or off visiting. “I’ll wait here with you.”

Catching her dubious expression, Mike supposed he should have asked permission rather than making a statement. The hell with that. He was a pushy guy, and there was only so much he could do about it.

For whatever reason, she didn’t argue. As she sank into her chair, he hoped this didn’t mean she was truly feeling unwell.

Drawing out a chair for himself, Mike observed that, at the head table, his parents were taking note of his attentions to Paige. So, no doubt, was the rest of the family. But he’d taught them long ago not to pester him about his private life.

The music stopped. Amid a smattering of applause for the band, the leader said, “I’ve been informed that the bride and groom are about to cut the cake. It’s spice cake, in case anyone’s wondering, so don’t miss out!”

“Would you like some?” Mike asked Paige.

“Thank you. I would.” She gave him a wan smile.

He rose, glad for something to do. “Maybe a sugar rush will help that famous stamina kick in.”

“It had better. I’m on call tonight.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s already passing, whatever it was.”

“Great.” But as Mike headed toward the table where Erica and Lock were doing the honors, he wondered if Paige might be hiding something.

That was the trouble with being a detective. You tended to get suspicious about everything.

* * *

P
AIGE
HADN
’
T
EXPECTED
the hormones to hit this hard, this early. While that didn’t guarantee she was pregnant, she resolved to administer a test at the first chance.

If she was pregnant, dramatic changes were taking place right now inside her body. The baby might be a millimeter long and its tiny nervous system, bones, blood and other organs were developing as layers of cells. Unfortunately, thinking about that didn’t help her queasiness.

From the far side of the room, she caught Dr. Mark Rayburn’s concerned glance. He knew about her artificial insemination, since he’d performed it. Luckily, his wife, Dr. Samantha Forrest, spoke to him and drew his attention away. Much as Paige liked Mark, she was in no mood for fatherly intervention.

She glanced toward the cake line. While she couldn’t see the bridal couple through the crowd, she did have a great view of Mike’s commanding head and shoulders rising above the other guests. A shiver of pleasure ran through her at the memory of his hand on her waist and his cheek brushing hers.

She was impressed by the way he’d taken her rebuke to heart. He seemed genuinely concerned about her well-being. And now that he’d dropped the annoying jokes, they’d talked easily, skimming across subjects, leaving her hungry for more. More conversation, and more of his touch.

I like him.
Not much of a revelation, Paige supposed, but until today she hadn’t considered Mike a guy she wanted to date, let alone anything more.

Before deciding to have a baby alone, she’d ruled out any likelihood of meeting a suitable man. Her aunt’s death, followed closely by Paige’s thirty-fourth birthday, had made her keenly aware of time passing. Delivering babies and being surrounded by pregnant women had stoked her longing, while observing the struggles of fertility patients reminded her that, despite modern technology, women had a relatively narrow window of opportunity for conceiving.

What rotten timing to discover, just when she might have reached the next step of her journey, that Mike had a likable side. Contrary to the way she usually thought of herself, she was enjoying his protectiveness. Was pregnancy awakening some susceptibility, a primal yearning to depend on male support? Paige bit her lip at the troubling notion.

Her sister Juno would lecture that she should have waited until she found a husband. Maeve would counter that things were unfolding this way for a reason. Funny how, even though Paige rarely talked to her sisters, she still heard their voices in her head.

She pushed away her distressing thoughts. One dance with Mike fell far short of a long-term relationship. In any case, she wasn’t about to rethink her decision. If she were lucky enough to have a baby, she’d be forever grateful.

A child was so much more than just a cute little infant. Parenthood meant bringing a whole person into the world, nurturing him or her, and becoming part of a vast ongoing experience. It meant offering a gift to the future, to that child’s spouse and their own children and everyone their lives would touch. It was a tremendous responsibility and a blessing beyond measure.

Still, Paige had no illusions about how a guy was likely to react to the news that she was bearing someone else’s baby, especially a macho guy like Mike. Thank goodness she’d refused to rent to him. After today, she’d make excuses to avoid his company. Any further contact could only lead to discomfort and awkwardness.

Anyway, once the first flush of pregnancy passed, Paige expected to recover her resilience. Mind and body would normalize. She’d do fine on her own.

In her purse, her cell rang. Although her 12-hour on-call shift didn’t start until 8 p.m., she’d left a standing request to be notified when any of her own patients went into labor. But instead of the familiar hospital designation, the display said Security.

Why was her alarm company calling?

Mike returned, sliding a plate of cake in front of her. After mouthing, “thanks,” Paige answered the call. “Dr. Brennan.”

“This is Safe Harbor Security,” said a young male voice. “May I have your code, please, Dr. Brennan?”

That was a safety precaution in case someone else answered her phone. “Glimmerglass.” Usually she didn’t like for anyone else to hear, but she considered Mike trustworthy.

“Dr. Brennan, an alarm’s gone off at your house,” the man said. “Are you at home now?”

“No. Please call the police.”

“Right away. Excuse me.” She could hear him telling someone else to make the call, and then he returned to the line. “My associate is doing that now.”

“Which window?” Paige asked. The kitchen window rattled when large trucks passed, although so far never hard enough to activate an alarm.

“It’s the window in the rear door.”

That gave her a bad feeling. The door, which led directly into the bathroom, opened onto a small courtyard off an alley. She considered it the most tempting point of entry for a would-be burglar. “I’ll go home immediately.”

“Please use caution,” the man warned. “Don’t approach the house until the police arrive.”

“If someone’s broken into my place…” She halted, fighting her distress. “You’re right. I’ll be careful.”

Paige cut off and collected her purse. At Mike’s question, she explained the situation tersely, concluding with, “I have to go.” Before leaving, though, she took a bite of the cake for good measure. Delicious.

“I’ll come with you.” Mike stood as she did.

“Thanks, but I’m not dizzy anymore. I can drive just fine.” Adrenaline had cleared away the last of her cobwebs.

“I’ll follow. I’m an ex-cop, remember? Let me take a look around.”

She didn’t want Mike anywhere near her house, especially while she was in a vulnerable state. Besides, she remembered something Erica had said about how she and Lock first connected. After he witnessed her narrowly escape being hit by a car, he’d driven her home and stayed to comfort her. One thing had quickly led to another.

Paige refused to let that happen with Mike. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not arguing me out of this one,” he replied firmly. “Even if you never speak to me again, I’m not going to risk having you stumble into an intruder.”

“I’m sure the police will be there before me.” Response times in this small town ran less than five minutes, Paige had heard.

“It never hurts to have somebody in your corner,” Mike returned. “Trust me. There’s nothing routine about a burglary.”

About to object, she remembered the halfway house. While her first concern had been theft and damage, what if she was the intruder’s real target? He might be watching from down the block. He’d see the police depart and know she was left with a broken window in her rear door.

As Mike had said, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone in her corner. Right now, depending on a guy didn’t seem like such a bad idea. And unlike Erica, she wasn’t going to collapse in the man’s arms.

“Okay. Thanks,” Paige said, and went to take a hurried leave of the bride and groom.

Chapter Four

How ironic that Mike had been trying to finagle an excuse for visiting Paige’s home, and now he was simply worried about her. This invasion of her property might make her angry enough to stalk inside and confront a burglar, and while the police usually responded quickly, they could be delayed.

He intended to be there, just in case. Nothing more.

In her shiny blue coupe, she made quite a picture driving along Harbor Bluff Drive with her rich auburn hair drifting around her shoulders, Mike noted through the windshield of his late-model silver sedan. If she opened that sunroof, her hair would whip around like a firestorm. Today, though, she was clearly too intent to bother.

A woman living alone in a small town like Safe Harbor ought to be secure in her own home, but Mike knew better. The beach attracted all kinds of characters. Also, from working crimes against persons at the police department, he’d seen behind the fancy closed doors and elegant drawn curtains. Domestic violence, robbery, sex crimes, even the rare but deeply disturbing homicide troubled the peace of the community. Now, whenever he got bored tracking runaway kids, spying on unfaithful spouses or nailing employees who lied about their credentials, he reminded himself of how much sordidness he was spared.

He certainly didn’t want to see a woman he cared about face off against some thug who existed in an entirely different universe. She had no idea how unprepared she was or what such a man might be capable of.

Yet as he followed Paige to the narrow beachfront Seaside Lane, Mike reminded himself not to underestimate her. Doctors spent part of their training in emergency rooms. She wouldn’t panic easily.

Interesting woman. He’d enjoyed more discussions about her work and a lot of other topics. During their dance, they’d barely scratched the surface. He’d become caught up in their conversation, despite his instinctive response to the sway of her hips and knowing curve of her mouth.

Dangerous territory, as he already knew. And getting riskier to his heart by the minute. More enticing, too.

Traffic was heavy along the beach route on a Saturday, with visitors prowling in search of parking spots. When he trailed Paige’s car onto one of the small residential streets at right angles to the beach road, Mike didn’t see a single open space by the curb. Instead, his eye flew to a police car, light bar flashing, double-parked in front of a tan cottage with blue shutters.

Paige’s coupe pulled into the driveway and she leaned out to speak to a uniformed patrolman. Mike recognized Bill Sanchez, and a moment later, around the corner of the house, appeared Bill’s partner, George Granger.

Mike didn’t hear an alarm, so the security company must have shut it off. He wasn’t sure how audible it would have been anyway, given the rock music throbbing from the neighbor’s house. Guests in cutoffs and swimsuits wandered through the open door and jammed the postage-stamp front yard to stare at the policemen. When he lowered his window, Mike could smell beer, along with barbecue smoke.

The garage door rolled open. Bill peered inside, then waved Paige in. The officers stood aside as Mike parked in the driveway.

“Friend of yours?” George called as Mike got out. “Hey, I like the monkey suit.”

“Penguin suit,” Mike corrected, and tossed the tuxedo jacket across his rear seat. “We were at my brother’s wedding. You’ve met Lock.” George and Bill had played pool with them a time or two. “I wanted to be sure she wasn’t walking into a bad situation.”

“More obnoxious than dangerous.” Bill indicated the party next door. “We were about to go tell them to turn it down.”

Paige emerged from the garage, her expression anxious. In contrast to the half-clad guests next door, she shone like a goddess in her emerald gown. “Did someone get inside?” she asked George, half shouting over the music.

He dragged his gaze from her striking figure. “Someone smashed a rear window but couldn’t get the door open. Smart lady, having a double-keyed lock.” That meant someone reaching inside couldn’t turn the knob without a key. “Judging from the fact that he took a leak on the back steps, I’m guessing he wanted to use the bathroom.”

Paige’s nose wrinkled. “Gross.”

“Hang on.” Bill vaulted a low dividing wall and vanished into the next house. A moment later, the music cut off.

“That’s a relief,” Mike said as he, George and Paige moved to her brick patio. A low-growing acacia screened it on one side, while a white wrought-iron fence discouraged sidewalk trespassers. From a window box spilled striped red petunias, a bright punctuation to the blue-and-white furniture. “Are your neighbors often this noisy?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Paige folded her arms protectively. “There’s also a halfway house down the street that has a lot of men hanging around. Things were different when my aunt bought this place in the ’60s.”

Bill returned with a long-haired blond guy in his early twenties. So drunk he kept stumbling, the fellow had a couple of bandages stuck across a gash on his arm.

At the sight of Paige, the man muttered, “Wow. You with anybody? ’Cause I’m free.”

Mike fought down a laugh. Not a funny situation, but the guy was so wasted he had no idea how preposterous his statement was. Paige appeared torn between revulsion and disbelief.

“If you have a dire need to throw up or relieve yourself, better speak now, because you’re about to take a ride in the squad car and I don’t take kindly to messes,” Bill informed him.

“Hey! I told you the truth,” the guy protested.

“You sure did. That’s why you’re under arrest.” Bill took out his handcuffs.

“Don’t you have to run a DNA test or something?” The man stuck out his chin defiantly.

“You admitted breaking and attempting to enter,” Bill replied calmly.

“You haven’t read me my rights!” This guy watched too much TV, Mike reflected.

“You confessed of your own free will,” Bill answered. “But if it makes you feel better, you have the right to remain silent…” The Miranda warning continued as Bill cuffed the perp.

To Paige, George said, “If it’s all right with you, Dr. Brennan, let’s go inside and check around to be sure nothing else was damaged.”

She swallowed. “Yes, of course.”

“She’s a doctor?” the suspect asked as Bill hustled him toward the car. “How about bandaging my arm?”

“How about shutting your mouth?” Bill responded, and folded the squawking guy into the screened-off rear seat.

Mike accompanied Paige and George inside. With its broad windows and red, white and blue theme, the living room felt like an extension of the patio. On the walls, shadow boxes filled with polished sea glass alternated with airy watercolors of sailboats. To the right, the room opened into a small kitchen, with a greenhouse window over the sink.

“Okay so far,” Paige said with a quaver, and led them across a hallway and into a red-tiled bathroom. Glass shards littered the floor, and Mike could feel a sea breeze seeping through the spiderwebbed crack in a windowed door. Outside, a few steps led down to a courtyard barely large enough to hold a couple of trash cans. Beyond it lay a narrow alley.

Paige blinked hard. “I know he didn’t get in, but it’s upsetting.”

“You feel violated,” Mike suggested. “That’s natural.”

“I figured it was convenient, being able to enter directly into the bathroom when I was covered in sand.” Paige gulped. “Now it seems so exposed.”

“It’s a good thing you have an alarm.” At the top of the window, the small sensor box remained in place. If not for that, she’d have returned home alone, possibly at night, and received a shock. No telling what the guy might have done, or who else might have followed him inside.

“I’d like to check the bedroom windows,” the patrolman said.

“Of course.” Paige showed them into a charming, old-fashioned bedroom where her delicious, light fragrance enfolded Mike. He could picture Paige wrapping her long legs around him as they sank onto that queen-size quilt.

Down, boy.

Opening the curtains, George surveyed the windowsill. “Doesn’t appear disturbed.”

“Why would it be?” she asked.

“When he couldn’t get through the door, he might have tried somewhere else.”

Paige shivered. “The guest room’s over here.” She escorted them past the bathroom to a slightly smaller chamber. Here, someone had decorated in a more formal style: dark, high-poster bed, lace coverlet and a bureau with small drawers. “All clear in here, too,” George said after examining the windows.

“What happens now?” Paige asked as they returned to the living room.

“We’ll take him in to sober up. I expect he’ll face misdemeanor charges, especially if he’s willing to pay restitution.”

“I won’t have to deal with him myself, will I?”

“Most likely he’ll pay through the court,” George assured her.

“I’ve got a coverall in my trunk.” Mike always carried several changes of clothing. “If it’s okay, I’ll put it on and hose off your rear steps.”

Paige shot him a warm look. “I would be grateful.”

“If you can’t get somebody out to replace the glass on a Saturday night, I recommend boarding that up,” George added.

“I can take care of it.” Mike kept a tool kit handy. “Unless you’d rather do it yourself.” He didn’t underestimate Paige’s home repair skills. Being a surgeon, she could no doubt handle tools as well as he could.

“I’m not sure I can run to the store and finish before I go on call at eight,” Paige said. “Mike, I appreciate this…”

“…but that doesn’t mean you want to rent me a room,” he said. “Believe me, there are no strings attached.”

“That room’s for rent?” George piped up.

“You already have a roommate,” Mike growled. The two partners had once hosted a barbecue at the rental they shared.

“Calm down. I meant for one of the women at the station.” The patrolman grinned. “But I can take a hint.”

Mike wished he’d kept his big mouth shut. Now his former coworkers would be making jokes at his expense. Well, since they involved a knockout of a lady, that wasn’t entirely bad.

Paige shivered as they went outside. “I keep thinking, what if he’d gotten inside?”

“You might have found him asleep in bed like Goldilocks,” George replied. “Only a whole lot uglier.”

The remark startled a chuckle from Paige. “I guess there is a funny side to this.”

In the squad car, the perp sagged against the rear door, while on the nearby lawn guests stood around drinking and regarding the scene as if it had been staged for their entertainment.

“They’ll crank up the music as soon as the cruiser leaves,” Paige muttered, observing the scene from the patio.

“Want me to make sure they don’t?” Mike asked.

Her neck and shoulders relaxed, as if taking comfort from his offer. “Thanks, but you’re doing more than enough as it is.”

“Okay. I’d better get started.” He calculated the tasks ahead. Wash the steps, measure the broken window and swing by the home improvement store. En route, he’d stop at home, change into jeans and hang up the tuxedo so it didn’t sustain damage.

After a moment’s hesitation, Paige went inside and returned with a key. “In case I have to go out, just let yourself in. I’ll reset the alarm. The code number is 6543.”

Mike slipped the key into his pocket. “Any special meaning?” He was good at recalling numbers, but a hint would cement the memory.

“I started with the number of kids in my family and worked down from there. Not very imaginative.”

“Better than using your birth date like a lot of people do.” A burglar could easily get that information from the internet or by stealing mail.

Next door, the music resumed at a less ear-splitting level. Someone had gotten the message, Mike reflected with satisfaction.

So here he stood on Paige’s patio with her key in his pocket, watching the police car head down the street. It was, Mike couldn’t help thinking, the perfect opportunity to persuade her to rent to him.

Earlier, she’d objected to his manipulative remarks, and once she recovered her equanimity, she’d resent him for taking advantage of her misfortune. Relationships worked better with a bit of space, anyway. “Listen,” Mike said. “You were right about not wanting me to move in.”

Her mouth quirked. “I was?”

“For starters, I’ve got my own furniture and a treadmill.” While no doubt he could figure out a way around that, her furnishings did pose an obstacle.

“Oh! That stuff belonged to my aunt Bree’s longtime roommate, who died four years ago.”

“This is your aunt’s house? I thought you owned it.”

“I do. She died a few days before Christmas and left it to me.” Paige shaded her eyes against the lowering sun. “I was planning to sell the extra furniture to an antiques store if my new roommate didn’t need it. I wouldn’t mind getting rid of it sooner rather than later.”

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about renting to me?” Mike couldn’t resist asking.

She gazed at him uncertainly. “I…”

He shook his head. “Never mind. Like I said, you were right the first time. We’re getting along, and I’d like us to keep on getting along. But if you’re still feeling off balance, I could stay over tonight. By tomorrow you should feel back to normal, and hopefully your neighbors will be too hungover to pester you.”