And there it was. Whether or not he really was, the truth was he felt responsible-for both of them, mother and child. He knew himself, and knew he wasnt going to be able to just let them be whisked away into the E.R. and never see them again. The questions he hadthose bruises on her face
He wasnt going to be able to let this go.
He was chewing on all that in his mind when Rachel looked back over her shoulder and saw him standing there. She said something to the EMT walking beside the gurney, and they all stopped there just before the automatic doors while Rachel turned and held out her hand to J.J. He went over to the gurney and took her hand, marveling all over again at how small and fragile it seemed when he knew she was anything but.
She squeezed his hand and said, Thank you, with a catch in her voice. Then she looked him straight in the eyes and said, Youre Jethro, right?
J.J., he said, wondering how in the hell she knew his given name. He sure couldnt remember telling her. JustJ.J.
She studied him for a moment, smiling a crooked little bit of a smile. Nonot just J.J. Its got to be J.J. something.
Okay, you got me. Its Fox. Deputy Sheriff J. J. Fox-at your service, maam. He dipped his head, since he wasnt wearing a hat to tip, and grinned. Not thinking of naming your baby after me, I hope.
Her smile came and went, and she said softly, seriously, His name is Sean Nicholas, after his father-and mine.
Ah. Of course. Good name. But he felt oddly let down-not about the name, but because somehow the fact that the baby had a father had slipped his mind. Well, hell, of course the kid had a father. And presumably she had a husband, somewhere; now that he thought about it, he realized she was wearing a wedding ring. Which maybe should have seemed wrong, to go along with the nuns habit, exceptwerent they supposed to be married to Christ or something? Only, of course, she wasnt really a nun, was she? Which leftthe husband.
He wondered if the husband was the one whod put those bruises on her face. Seemed odd, though, that shed name her son after him, if he was.
Still, women did some unexplainable things, especially when it came to the men they loved.
Theyre both dead, Rachel said.
Still, women did some unexplainable things, especially when it came to the men they loved.
Theyre both dead, Rachel said.
Im sorry. But it was an automatic response, and given the way his heart had jumped when he said that, he wondered if he meant it.
There was an awkward pause, and then J.J. said, Well- at the same time she started to say something, so he stopped and said politely, Go ahead.
Theres no way Ill ever be able to thank you. I cant imagine what- She looked down at the bundled baby in her arms and kind of shook her head.
No need to thank me. Just doin my job, J.J. muttered, again knowing that wasnt the way he felt. What he was really feeling was gruff and uncomfortable and heroic and utterly fraudulent.
He reached out and touched her arm, then the baby bundle. You just have a good life-keep this little guy safe, okay? She nodded. He nodded to the EMT, and the gurney started to roll. You can call me if you need anything, now, you hear? he heard himself say. She didnt respond; all her attention was focused now on her baby.
Which was as it should be, he thought morosely. He watched as the gurney was wheeled away into the E.R., and the automatic door whisked shut, closing him out.
Yeah, why in the hell would she need you? He gave a snort of self-mockery and went to clean out his patrol vehicle, which he imagined would be getting pretty ripe by now, warming up in the heat of the day.
He got a large-sized evidence bag out of the back of the SUV and started gathering up the clothing and shoes hed shucked off Rachel and tossed out of the way during the chaos of delivering her baby. And-oops-there was the envelope that had come off with the clothing, the one that had apparently been taped to her stomach. Damned if he hadnt forgotten about it in all the excitement. Now, sitting behind the wheel of his patrol vehicle, he examined the envelope more closely. The name-Rachel Malone Delacorte. Delacorte. Why did that name ring a bell? Where had he heard it before?
Holding the envelope and pondering whether or not he could justify opening it, he thumbed his radio on. Katie, do you copy?
Yeah, J.J. Katies voice was higher than normal and breathless with poorly suppressed excitement. How is-
Everybodys fine. Including me, he added wryly, and got a chuckle in response. Mother and son are fine-just dropped em off at Ridgecrest E.R. AhKatie, I want you to run a name for me. Put a rush on it. He gave her the name. You copy?
Copy that, Katie said. When you gonna be back in the office?
On my way, J.J. drawled.
What he really wanted to do was go find a quiet spot and a nice cold beer and take an hour or two to ponder the events of the morning. After all, wasnt every day he got to rescue a pregnant woman masquerading as a nun out in the middle of the desert and deliver her baby in the backseat of his patrol vehicle. But since his work day was barely half over, he stuffed the envelope-unopened-into the bag containing Rachels clothes and took everything inside to the E.R. reception desk. Back outside in the midday sun, he called to Moonshine-no dummy, shed found a shady spot under a parked ambulance-got in his patrol vehicle and, making mental note to look for a car wash on the way, headed back to his own jurisdiction.
Once again, Rachel drifted. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew there were things she should be thinking about, planning for. But for the moment, she felt no more capable of controlling the course of her life than a leaf caught in a rivers current. And for now, that current was benign, a placid and peaceful stretch after what had been a turbulent, hazardous, sometimes terrifying, sometimes exhilarating ride. For the time being, for the first time in more than two years, she was free of the Delacorte family. For the first time in six months, she was free from fear. Tomorrow, she would think about what to do next. For today, she could allow herself to drift.
Im in a hospital. My baby and I are safe here.
Lying on her side with her cheek propped on one curled fist, she gazed at her newborn son, now sleeping peacefully, swaddled in a soft white blanket with blue and pink stripes around the edges, a blue stocking cap covering his head and most of his freshly washed silky black hair. A fine, strong, healthy boy, the doctor had told her. Seven pounds, five ounces. A beautiful baby boy. Which Rachel didnt need a doctor to tell her; she could see her son was absolutely perfect.
Nicky, you have a son. You always said
But her mind, drifting, sailed quickly, almost guiltily past images of Nicholas and settled instead, like a leaf caught in a skein of half-submerged grasses, on the fierce and whiskery face of Deputy Sheriff Jethro-J.J.-Fox.
Who could have imagined our baby would be helped into this world by a lawman? A sheriff straight out of the Old West, one who sounds a little like John Wayne?
She laughed without sound, and was disconcerted when the laughter made everything in her middle quiver like unmolded gelatin. She winced and rested her hand on her disappointingly still-swollen belly, trying to remember what the nurse had assured her: Everything would go back to its normal place soon. And nursing, the nurse had told her firmly, would help that happen faster.
With that memory, Rachels drifting mind bumped gently against another image: Sheriff Jethro Foxs hands, one cradling her babys head, the other holding her breast, guiding the nipple to an eagerly seeking mouth. The backs of his hands had been tanned, she remembered, the hair on the wrists bleached golden by the sun, the nails clean and clipped short but not manicured, not like Nickys. Nicky had cared for his hands as meticulously as any woman.
She wondered why it wasnt more unsettling, remembering the way a strange man had touched her breasts. Instead, she found it a comforting image, and it stayed with her until she dozed.
Katie aimed an accusing stare at J.J. across the tops of her glasses when he walked through the door. What happened, Grizzly? I thought you were going to shave all that stuff off your face.
Yeah, well, Ive been kind of busy. He took off his hat and sailed it across to his own desk.
Katie held the stare for another beat, then broke out in a grin. Well, congratulations, anyway. She pulled a cigar out of where shed been hiding it behind her computer screen and lobbed it at him.
He snagged it and grunted his thanks, as Daryl Fisher, another one of his deputies, pushed off from his desk and tipped his chair back.
First baby, J.J.?
J.J. snorted. Yeah, it was. How many have you brought into the world? Daryl was fresh out of police academy and liked to think he knew everything. And maybe he did-everything that could be learned out of a book, anyway, which in J.J.s opinion wasnt much.
Daryl made a scoffing noise and went back to his computer.
Hes just jealous, Katie said comfortingly.
Yeah, right. J.J. was wondering why he felt so damn crabby. Shouldnt a little euphoria be in order? He nodded toward the computer monitor on Katies desk. Anything on that name I gave you?
Katie gave a little gasp. Oh-my gosh. Sorry-kind of got caught up in the celebration. She bit her lower lip to hold back what appeared to be sheer glee. Hold on to that cigar, J.J., because youre not going to believe this. Rachel Malone Delacorte-Im guessing thats the new mom?
Thats what Im guessing.
Well, if its the same one, shes married to Nicholas Delacorte-or was. She waited a beat, and when J.J. just looked at her, gave an impatient huff. Only son of Carlos Delacorte? Head of the biggest crime family in the entire southwest, if not the country? Plus Central America?
J.J. swore under his breath. No wonder the name had seemed familiar to him.
The reason I said was, Katie went on, still full of herself. Remember that shootout in the alley behind the Hollywood Bistro last year? The one where those two feds got killed? Well, you might remember, there was another casualty that night-none other than Carlos Delacortes little boy, Nicky. At the time, it was thought he might have just gotten caught in the crossfire, since no weapons were found on him. Meanwhile, the shooters, whoever they were, got clean away.
That case is still open, J.J. said, frowning. It was coming back to him, now. Didnt witnesses say Delacorte was in the Bistro that night, with a woman?