“Savannah?” Helen’s voice was cautious. “What do you want?”
At least the Willard matriarch hadn’t hung up on her. “Helen, I was going through some old journals and discovered what my dad did to you, how he stole money meant for a neonatal unit in memory of your daughter. I’m so sorry, and I want to make amends. I’m going to build it.”
“Y-you’re going to build the unit? Is this some kind of joke?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like that. I’m ashamed of what my dad did, and I want to do the right thing. We’ll name it after your daughter and pray we save women in the same circumstances.”
Silence answered her. Savannah pulled the phone back and looked at the screen. They were still connected. “Helen?”
“I don’t believe you,” the older woman spat out. “This is some kind of trick to get access to Simon, isn’t it? I know the games you Legares play, but I’m not stupid.”
This time when the phone went dead, no one was on the other end.
Hez switched off the power washer and stood back to survey the results. The cobblestone patio and firepit seemed fresh and new after he’d blasted away the years of grime. Once the seabreeze blew away the dampness, he would put out the new Adirondack chairs and matching table. It would be the perfect spot for a romantic dinner as they watched the sun set over Mobile Bay. He’d spent the weekend working so he didn’t miss Savannah and Simon so much. He hadn’t seen his nephew in over a week, not since the rescue.
Savannah had to spend the afternoon at the university, but she’d promised to be back by seven. It would be their last evening together for a few days because Michael was dropping off Simon at Savannah's cottage in the morning, so Hez wanted to make it a little special. He had shrimp bisque and crab cakes ready to go on the stove and in the oven, plus Savannah’s favorite garden salad in the fridge.
He smiled at the thought of her coming home and seeing dinner—or no, she’d smell it first. She’d walk in the door, catch the scent of cooking seafood, and light up with a smile that would make those gorgeous green eyes dance. It would be a perfect evening.
A vehicle turned into the driveway. Hez frowned. Savannah wouldn’t be back for over an hour and the deep-throated engine didn’t sound like her Civic. He walked around the side of the house and saw a black Denali.
The cab opened and Michael stepped out. He spotted Hez and walked over, carrying a thick envelope in one hand. “How’s the shoulder healing?”
“Fine. I’ll have an interesting scar, but that’s all. What can I do for you?”
Michael looked him in the eye. “It’s time to end this fight over Simon. It’s not good for anyone.”
Hez’s brows went up. Maybe Savannah’s olive branch had worked. “I agree. What did you have in mind?”
“After what happened with Hornbrook, you should withdraw your adoption petition.”
Hez shook his head. “No way.”
Michael pressed his mouth into a thin line and blew out through his nose. “Simon could have died, Hez. And this isn’t the first near miss. Or the second. He’s in danger whenever he’s around you or Savannah.”
“Hornbrook was the danger, not us.”
Michael nodded toward the water. “Did Hornbrook let Simon almost drown out there?”
Hez winced internally at the memory. “We’re keeping him away from water, just like the judge ordered. If you want to discuss some sort of shared custody, we’ll be flexible. But we won’t give up Simon. We love him and we won’t let him go. His mother—your own daughter—wanted Savannah to raise him. Why won’t you respect Jess’s wishes?”
“Keep her name out of your mouth!” A vein stood out on Michael’s neck. He tapped the envelope against his jeans. “You’ve got more at stake here than custody of Simon. A lot more.”
Hez was glad he’d started carrying his Glock whenever he was out here. “What exactly do you mean?”
Michael held out the envelope. “I know you’ve worked very hard to repair your relationship with Savannah. It would be a shame to throw away all that.”
Hez opened the envelope. It contained a stack of pictures of Martine and him. The first showed them at the beach—shecarried her shoes in one hand and had her other arm around him. His arm curled around her waist. In the second they sat very close to each other at the Seabreeze Saloon, and he had a half-empty mojito in front of him. The third picture was also from the Seabreeze and showed her kissing his cheek. The next photos showed him pulling into the Campbell Motel, Martine holding his hand and taking him into the room, and—
Hez gasped. “These are fake!”
Michael grinned. “There’s security camera video from the bar and motel corroborating those pictures.”
“Not those last ones!” The pieces clicked into place. “You’re Martine’s mysterious client. You’ve been using her to set me up.”
Michael sighed. “Face the facts, Hez. If you and Savannah keep trying to take away my grandson, these are going to come out in court. It can’t be in Simon’s best interests to have parents whose marriage is on the rocks before it even begins.”
Hez threw the pictures on the ground and thrust a finger in Michael’s face. “You’re not going to blackmail me!”
