Married by Monday (The Weekday Brides #2)(59)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“I have a two-year-old. I understand that.”

Carter laughed and some of the tension eased from his shoulders.

“Didn’t you say Sanchez had contacts in Mexico?”

“Yeah.”

“I can have someone look into his old activities there—see if anything new is worth mentioning.”

Blake had shipping hubs all over the globe and these equated to connections. Sure, Carter had connections, too, but exercising them while running for office could mean political suicide.

“Gathering information can’t hurt,” Carter said.

“Consider it done. How is everything else going? Samantha told me that Eliza received mail everyday asking for her help.”

“Every day? More like every hour. She’s on a mission to reunite families and fix issues within the witness relocation program.”

“If there is anyone who can, it would be someone who has lived it.”

Carter agreed. “The letters have taken her mind off the fact that she’s somewhat secluded.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked her to avoid going out—to stay home where she’s safe.”

Blake rubbed his jaw and frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Eliza.”

“It isn’t. Hopefully, we’ll know more about Sanchez soon and be able to neutralize his threat.”

“If that was possible don’t you think the police would have done that early on and avoided placing Eliza in the program?”

Carter felt his jaw tighten and his shoulders tense. “I have to believe there is something more I can do, Blake. Otherwise I’ve put my wife in harm’s way instead of saving her.”

The muscles on Blake’s face softened and he attempted a grin. The attempt was lame, however, and Carter didn’t want to see the sympathy. He stood abruptly and said, “I’m needed across town.”

Blake walked him to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

Carter punched his steering wheel once he was alone. What the hell was he going to do?

****

Dean sucked in the nicotine and felt his nerves instantly calm. He’d been reduced to leaning against a black and white in the yard to take his cigarette fix. Even the sanctity of the station which used to sport a grey hue of smoke like a badge of honor, had been poisoned by the non-smokers. Don’t smoke close to the door! Don’t smoke in the cars! Just quit, you’re better off! As if the warning label on the damn pack wasn’t enough of a threat, it seemed everyone scowled at the smoker. He drew in another breath and blew the smoke out through pursed lips.

The world could bite him. His attempts at stopping never worked, and the gum tasted like shit.

“I knew I’d find you out here.”

Jim strode toward him with determined steps. In his hands were papers that he was currently tapping against his thigh. He eyed the cigarette, but didn’t comment.

“Just taking a break.”

Jim leaned against the car beside him. “Better off talking out here, anyway.”

That didn’t sound good. “What’s up?”

He tapped the papers against his palm before handing them to Dean.

Dean took one last drag and tossed the butt to the ground next to plenty more left by other cops. He took the papers and glanced at a cheap printed picture.

“Carter’s friend Blake visited his father-in-law.”

“Do we know what they talked about?”

“We can guess.”

He flipped through the pages of pictures taken by the cameras at the prison. It didn’t appear that Blake arrived with anyone.

“Any word on the inside?”

Jim shook his head. “It’s quiet. Too quiet.”

Dean hated that word. Nothing good ever came from it, and it never lasted long.

“Have you heard from Eliza?”

“Only a steady stream of her shoe bills.”

Jim laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Could it be that Sanchez isn’t interested anymore? That he moved on?”

Criminals didn’t move on. And they never forgot. “Remember the picture of Eliza’s mom?” Dean didn’t have to remind Jim of which picture he referred to. Jim’s smile faded.

The sun that always managed to shine in southern California slipped behind a cloud and Dean felt a chill. “We keep vigilant. Sanchez has time on his side and won’t be in a hurry. It isn’t as if Eliza will slide off his radar anytime soon.”

The stress of Eliza’s case would ensure Dean’s cigarette habit for years to come. He thought of his own daughter and how much she looked like Eliza.

****

“Thanks for doing this here,” Samantha tucked her legs under her bottom and made herself comfortable on the couch. Eliza, Gwen, and Karen made themselves comfortable around the formal living room. “Eddie hardly naps any longer, and I’m exhausted by the end of my day.”

Eliza had slipped into Eddie’s room before joining the other women. He looked like he was napping fine today. She couldn’t help wondering if maybe Samantha used him as an excuse to keep Eliza from going to Tarzana.

Gwen added sugar to her tea and made small chiming noises with the cup. “Eddie is adorable.”

“Thanks.”

“How is everything at the house?” Eliza asked Gwen.

“At first it was quite hectic. The phone rang relentlessly. Nothing legitimate. Things seem to be calming now.”

Samantha and Eliza had prepared statements for Gwen to recite to the callers. Eliza remembered well what it was like after Sam and Blake were wed. The media made every conceivable effort to find something seedy about Alliance.

They failed.

“Have we lost any clients?”

“Candice asked to have her portfolio put on hold. She met someone on holiday and things are working out well.”

“Good for her,” Samantha said.

“That’s all?” Eliza took a cookie off the serving plate on the coffee table and broke it in two.

“Yes.”

Karen cleared her throat. “You might want to take Sedgwick off your list.”

“Oh?”

“He and my aunt have a weekly date. Though neither of them call it that.”

An uncontrollable grin met Eliza’s lips. “That’s awesome.”

“It is. I didn’t think my aunt knew what blush and lip gloss were, but I noticed her wearing it the last time he came over. It’s too damn cute.”

“Are you still escorting him?”

Karen nodded. “He picks me up or sometimes I pick him up. It’s hysterical watching the grandkids crane their necks to see me and scowl every time I’m there. His children are more subtle but just as unhappy.”