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I gasped, and Kurt grabbed my hand.
“Adriane was also connected to Jennifer and Amanda. At West Cedar, we found a computer with a chat that hadn’t been erased. In it, Adriane reminds Amanda to delete the chats so no one can trace them. There wasn’t much of the chat on that computer. But I believe the voices Amanda mentioned were actually Adriane’s. She’d sought people in this morbid fan group to use. There were several people she reached out to who weren’t susceptible. It was meticulous and thorough with the way Adriane vetted them.”
Adriane had always been a genius.
“Oh my gosh.” They’d planned to steal my baby. Is that what the message in the dressing room had been? A warning, in a sense?
Kurt and Cameron cursed as I sat there, stunned. I knew what needed to happen.
“I want to see Adriane.”
And I knew she wanted to talk to me as well.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Sawyer
Two days later, we got notification that the police had searched the premises at my parents’ Colorado home and apparently found something incriminating. It brought forth a round of questioning that made no sense to me.
Who are my parents affiliated with?
Do I know a man named Navarro?
Was I aware of their financial situation in the Caymans?
Did I know a Jim Santoro?
It hadn’t taken them long to realize I knew nothing. What were my parents involved with? The police weren’t talking. But it was hard, not knowing the depths
of their betrayal.
Steve discovered Jim Santoro was a hired hand and he’d been arrested. For a plea bargain he was singing like a canary. My parents had hired him to help Adriane kidnap me and take Dylan from me. He’d been the one to slash the tires on the golf cart. When I escaped, he’d been driving the getaway vehicle to the front of the house. When he heard gun shots, Jim fled.
I sat in the rocking chair with Kurt by my side as I nursed Dylan for the third time that morning. Breastfeeding had been a mess at first, with Dylan not latching on properly, but we had the hang of it now. I touched his cheek. “He’s doing good.”
“He is.” Kurt was as fascinated with him as I was. George, still bandaged up, lay at our feet. Since we’d been home, he hadn’t left Dylan’s side. Best dog in the world. He’d put his own life at risk to save ours. Waldo had daily puppacinos delivered to George to aid in his recovery. Every day around nine in the morning, we had a delivery of whipped creamy goodness arrive on our doorstep. This was going to become an unbreakable habit, which I loved.
Dylan cooed. As I breastfed Dylan, I felt an incredible bond.
“I meant what I said the other day. I want you to be my wife.”
Oh…I paused midrock, wondering how to proceed. Of course, I would be thrilled to be Kurt’s wife. I had no aversion to being married. But it still felt like the fear talking. Yesterday, I’d signed paperwork that added my name to the deed to the house and appointed me as Kurt’s power of attorney. I couldn’t imagine facing the fear he had, but he’d made it through. And our true family had been there to support him.
I started rocking again, hoping this would put him at ease. “There’s an envelope in the top dresser. Would you get it for me?”
It was still hard to walk and maneuver about after the two surgeries. But I focused on Dylan, and the pain became more manageable.
Kurt looked confused. When he opened the letter, his eyes grew wider. “What’s this?”
“My power of attorney and a new will, leaving you and Dylan everything I have. What happened with my parents won’t ever happen again. All you have to do is sign it where the sticky notes are.”
Without a second thought, Kurt signed the paperwork and stuffed it back into the envelope—crooked. We smiled at each other because this crazy man was the love of my life.
“Does that help?”
“Of course. It’s just—” Kurt gave me a smile. “It’s nothing. I just want you to know how much I love you.”
“I know that. I love you, too.” The concern seemed to disappear from his eyes, but something still lingered. Before I agreed to marriage, I needed to see Kurt was completely invested in this and not doing it out of fear. Because what we had was more than enough. A piece of paper doesn’t automatically mean it’s true love, forever.
