Untamed: Duty Bound Book 3 (29 page)

Based on Reed’s reaction, he’d bought Fred’s performance.
Gramp would be proud.

“What am I supposed to do with her? My girlfriend doesn’t want dog hair on the couch and the animal shelter is at full capacity.”

Sadly enough, Fred didn’t have to feign irritation on both counts. The injured doggie deserved better care than the one she’d receive in an overcrowded kennel. Justine had disagreed and relegated them to the basement. He’d been given one day to find an alternate arrangement, or she was moving back to St. John’s with her sister.

Hannah had wanted to keep Snowflake, but he’d insisted on taking the dog so there wouldn’t be any traces of pee or poop around his new house should someone decide to snoop around.

“The pooch is a menace, Pike. Do everyone a favor and put him down.” Cooper’s disdain for the animal oozed from every pore of his body. “With your sister gone, no one will miss him.”

The officer’s callous attitude irked Fred. Cooper knew Hannah was alive. Deep inside he should have been worried she would report him, but the dirt bag acted like he was above the law.

“With Stone missing, Coop is pulling double duty, and he’s tired. He doesn’t mean it.” The sergeant’s excuses didn’t impress Fred. “Right, Cooper?”

“Course not.” Showing no more visible interest in the visitors, the constable returned to his desk.

“Why don’t you ask your patients, Doc. I’m sure one of them will take the dog off your hands.”

The suggestion had merit. It might have conned a stranger into thinking the sergeant cared, but Fred wasn’t fooled. “I should have thought about that.”

Reed nodded. “Do you have an update on the dead dumpster woman?”

“She used a thick coat of body makeup to conceal her scars. I’m thinking stripper or hooker. Her prints are not in the system, and no one matching her description has been reported missing in the last six months. I have the pictures.” After showing them to Hannah and Stone, Fred had wiped their prints.

One couldn’t be too careful.

Chapter Forty-Four

With all the sleeping Avery had enjoyed in response to the painkillers he’d swallowed, his body had left an imprint in the plush mattress. And with the heavy pacing he’d witnessed during his period of consciousness, the brand new blue carpet had started showing signs of wear and tear under Hannah’s bare feet.

As the day progressed, she’d grown more agitated and left the warm confine of his arms. She didn’t open up on what bothered her, and he didn’t ask, but he suspected the paternity test played a role.

His stomach growled, the churning pain greater than the one radiating from his upper back. As he propped himself against his pillow, he stretched his stiff, achy shoulder, gradually relaxing the muscles.

“The storm is over, Freddy. Where are you? It will be dark soon.” The silence bathing the room amplified her words. “If I turn the lamp on, the light will filter around the blinds. Anyone riding along the edge of the woods will see it.”

In the dark, she couldn’t
hear
. That would be another reason to make her anxious but there was always the bathroom. It had no window, only a door facing the hallway wall. A cozy chat under hot water would sooth both their spirits. She had promised him a shower. Now might be a good time to collect on—

“Why the quizzical look?” In her pink downy bathrobe, she looked like an angel with broken wings. “Was I talking to myself out loud?”

“It was more like a whisper. Hannah…I’m here if you want to talk.”

She joined him, and to his pleasure, she cuddled into his arms. “For years, the image of Gramp’s killer haunted me. Since Terri stole the test, I’m seeing
her
face. I even dreamed of her last night. I swear my subconscious wants her dead.”

His gaze locked on hers, he gently stroked her cheek. “What happened between you, Brent, and Terri? Were you in love with him? How did he end up with her?”

A forlorn sigh whished through her lips. “There are just so many storms someone can weather before being buried alive. Terri was the last storm, and she swept Brent off his feet. I didn’t fight for him…didn’t even try. Maybe I didn’t love him enough.”

“Or maybe you loved him enough to let him go.” Either way, the corporal had been an idiot for letting Hannah slip through his fingers.
His loss, my gain.

Soft chuckles shook her body. “Trust me, Stone, I’m not
that
noble. If another woman made a claim on you and you showed interest in her, I’d ship you back to her—in tiny pieces.”

“There’s no other woman, Hannah. There hasn’t been any in a long time.” He teasingly parted her robe, revealing a tender breast to his touch. No woman had ever hindered his ability to breathe—let alone think—like the amazing creature in his bed. She was irresistible, and wherever that sexy purple bra had gone, his willpower threatened to follow. “You think Rory might like having a baby sister?”

A rosy tinge flushed her skin, blending with the bathrobe. “I’m not raising a second child on my own.”

“No, you’re not, so let me rephrase.” Rory’s father had been another bloody idiot for abandoning her. Starting now, Avery intended to provide a much better role model to his little man. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife
and
the mother of our children?”

As she gazed at him, her lips parted, and the ocean sparkled in her eyes. Her soft curves pressed against his chest, she trailed her hands down his—

“What’s going on here?”

Startled out of his skin, Avery pulled the comforter over his beautiful disheveled lover. “Hello, Doc. That’s bad timing.”

Hugging the front of her bathrobe, Hannah looked toward the doorway and gasped.

“You’re injured, Stone. You’re supposed to rest, not—” Fred growled some unintelligible words under his breath as he flapped a large envelope through the air.

“Relax, Doc.” By showing up early, the doctor hadn’t given him time to break any recommendations. “I’m resting. Hannah is doing a great job keeping me in bed. But your timing still sucks.”

The lovely rosy tinge coloring Hannah’s cheeks and neck changed to a rich crimson. “Don’t go big brother on me, Freddy. I’ll strangle him myself.”

“I can’t believe I was worried about you.” Shaking his head, the doctor walked to the window and checked the blinds. “I’m here. You can turn the light on. I don’t want Hannah to miss anything.”

When Avery reached out for the lamp, Hannah sat bolt upright in bed. “What did you find?”

“Plenty.” The word exploded in a mixture of enthusiasm and disbelief. “A few techs owed me favors, and I lucked out. First, you seemed eager to meet Matthew Russell, so here he is.” He handed her a calendar. “October Bad Boy.”

As she flipped through the months of the charity calendar, Avery leaned toward her.

“Freddy, couldn’t you have taken a picture of him while you stitched him up?” The guy was on the ice with nothing more than his skates, his helmet, his stick, his jockstrap, and a goatee. “Now I’ll see him naked in my nightmares.”

A different kind of picture loomed on Russell’s future.
A nice, clean mug shot.
“Do you recognize him?”

“He looks familiar…the arena…” A flicker of recognition blinked in her eyes. “It was on the same day you hacked into my computer. I went to the arena with Rory that morning and I bumped into Russell. At the time, I was thinking about going back into the forest to revisit the place where Gramp was killed. He stared at me with such a strange expression that…I was thinking out loud. I’m the one who told him I’d be in the forest that afternoon.” The calendar fell onto Hannah’s lap as indignation rose into her voice. “Greta was right. The attack had been premeditated. I didn’t see their faces, but Greta had spotted them earlier digging a hole in the ice without their ski masks. She’d recognized Vic or Matt as one of the men who’d attacked her and killed Gramp. We’re just missing the third one—the one I glimpsed.”

Had he not stopped by that ill-fated afternoon, Hannah would have taken Rory with her, and Avery would have lost them both. Rory’s reluctance to eat his peas had given her the excuse of going alone. They’d ambushed her but Greta had foiled their plan and saved Hannah. As much as Avery regretted the death of the old woman, he inwardly cursed her decision of not reporting her assault. “Are you absolutely sure you didn’t glimpse Russell or Young?”

She offered a dejected nod.

“Gramp was killed by Russell and Young?” The shock of the details had bleached Freddy’s face.

“Snap out of there, Freddy, and put your doctor mask on.” Aside from Hannah, Fred was the only person on which Avery could rely in this town. Losing him to a sudden breakdown wasn’t an option. “We’ll fill you in later. What else do you have for us?”

“The girl…” Fred took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes. “After you told me about Russell, I went back to the clinic. I took one of the gauzes with Russell’s blood on it and sent it to the lab. To avoid raising suspicion, I also sent the sample of blood I found on the sleeve of the dumpster girl from yesterday. The guy rushed the results. I figured you might want to know if Russell’s DNA was in the system.”

“Those results may not stand in court, Doc, but I’ll take them anyway.” If push comes to shove, Avery would find another way to obtain them.

“Russell’s DNA is not in the system, but the two samples were a perfect match.” A glint of satisfaction fleeted across Freddy’s face. “The girl had Russell’s blood on her sleeve.”

“Good job, Doc.” The interesting piece of information didn’t fit the puzzle yet, but Avery was confident he’d find a connection. “When Jane Doe has a name, let me know. Do you have anything else for us?”

“I got a copy of the paternity test.” Freddy handed a folded sheet directly to Hannah. “I glanced at the results when the fax came in. I’m not sure what to say.”

“Thanks.” If her brother’s indiscretion bothered her, she didn’t show it.

The amount of information the doctor had gathered in twenty-four hours exceeded Avery’s expectations. As he retreated to his side of the bed to give her some privacy, Hannah gripped his forearm. “You’re entitled to see this.”

With shaky hands, she presented him the letter.

Based on the DNA Analysis, the alleged father BRENT ABBOTT is excluded as the biological father of the child RP because they do not share sufficient genetic markers. The probability of the stated relationship is indicated below.

Probability Percentage: 0%

***

Below the probability percentage, a chart contained the list of markers used for comparison. D3S1358, D21S11, D18S51, D7S820…

Hannah skimmed over the list searching for one specific marker. Two-thirds of the way down, she found it. The awful confirmation of her fears. Assailed by emotions from all over the spectrum, she closed her eyes.
Brent…

There were never any other possibilities, but being correct didn’t make her feel right.

Someone caressed her thigh. She owed him—both of them—the truth. One for sticking with her through the past, and one for wanting to share her future. When she opened her eyes, two sets of eyes gazed at her with loving concern. How much they figured out, she couldn’t tell.

“Taking care of Gramp wasn’t the only reason why I moved back to Mooseland. Working at Child Welfare Services had taken its emotional toll. I couldn’t stay in Halifax anymore. When I found Gramp dead in the woods, I was still reeling from the atrocities I’d witnessed in my former job. My world collapsed, and I lost my bearings.” A void had engulfed her. She’d grasped onto Brent, her only link to sanity. “I just needed to be held, to be reassured everything would be all right…Brent stayed with me in the cabin that night. For weeks afterwards, I wondered if I’d dreamed the surreal encounter. Then in the middle of the investigation he showed up sporting a solemn look. I braced myself for another tragedy. Terri’s father had invited him to his house the week Gramp died to discuss the recent increase in criminal activities. After her father retired, he accepted a drink from Terri. She was sweet on him…very sweet. He wanted to tell me she was pregnant…that he was sorry.” At the time, Hannah had been too numb to be hurt. “He married her a few days later. Their daughter was born two weeks before Rory.”

“Are you saying Brent
is
Rory’s father?” Avery exchanged a confused glance with Freddy. “Could the results be wrong, Doc? Could they have been altered?”

Her brother cringed. “Unlikely, but it’s possible someone posing as Abbott requested the test and provided unrelated samples.”

Yeah, they had both missed it.

“The results aren’t what they appear to be. That’s why Terri stole them. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until after Brent married her. I never told him he was Rory’s father. When he visited me last fall, he asked a lot of questions about the day I found Gramp, but then he made one comment that didn’t belong.
Rosalyn Paige has brown eyes, Hannah, not blue like Rory.
He’d never used his daughter’s full name in front of me before. I thought maybe it was his way to tell me he knew about Rory…to acknowledge his son.” She placed the results on the bed, facing them. “Look at the AMEL marker; the fifth from the bottom. Father XY, child XX. The DNA sample came from a female child. RP is Rosalyn Paige. Brent had found out his daughter wasn’t his, and he told me, but I didn’t clue in. Then he disappeared, and I started receiving threats. What if Young and Russell wanted me gone not because I saw Gramp’s killers, but because Rory is Brent’s child—a threat to Terri and her daughter?”

Avery sank back on his pillow, his eyes darting back and forth, as if they were spinning a wheel inside his brain.

“Two things seem to have happened around the same time last fall. Brent revisited your grandfather’s death, and he questioned his paternity. While it could be a weird coincidence, it’s also possible Brent stumbled on one truth while searching for the other.” A muscle twitched at the base of Avery’s neck. “Doc, we have to get into town. I have phone calls to make. Is there a place where we could hide? The morgue maybe?”