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As soon as she closed it, she collapsed against the wood. It was all too much. This morning she’d believed that the news they’d learned was the worst thing that could happen to them. Now, though, no matter the results of the DNA test, if whoever was targeting her business was successful, she would have no way to support her child and nowhere for them to live.
If they learned that the babies were switched, what judge would grant custody of either of those children to her?
* * *
“Everything’s going perfectly,” the woman said into the phone without bothering to say hello.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” he said. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Because she could picture him grinning like an idiot, she was glad this wasn’t a video call. Still, she had to give him credit for his effort. Their plan was working out just as they’d hoped. She had to ensure that it stayed that way.
“All of the important players seem to be in on the deal,” she said. “They’re making this easy.”
“I told you we could do this. I said it would be a piece of cake, too.”
“Yes, sweetheart, you did.” She would give him that, though, technically, the idea had been hers. They always were. Her friend might have had the desire to make it work, but she was better at execution.
“So, it’s ‘sweetheart’ now?”
“Sure.”
And it would continue to be if he didn’t screw this up for her. For them. She’d waited too long to find the perfect plan and an adequate partner to execute it to let it fall apart like her past few attempts.
“Now get back to your job,” she said. “It’s almost time for me to do mine.”
“Have fun and stay in touch.”
“You know I will.”
For effect, she made several kissy noises into the phone and hung up before he could reciprocate. She would stay in contact, all right. Every step of the way. Everyone else appeared to be finding good things in this life. It was about time for her, well, for them, to get their fair share.
Chapter 7
Asher pulled his pickup to the side of the road for the third time during the drive from town to the Triple R and allowed the latest emergency vehicle to pass. The first two had been unfamiliar police patrol cars, and the third was an ambulance. All were headed back toward town.
“What the heck is going on?” he asked the passenger buckled in the car seat in the back.
Harper’s only answer was a whimper that stretched to a whine. He couldn’t blame her. Instead of going back to the ranch and putting her down for her afternoon nap in her own bed, he’d driven around Mustang Valley several times, surveying some of the damage from the earthquake a month before. He’d even driven by a few sites where his brother Grayson, a first responder for his own agency, and Grayson’s new fiancée, Savannah Oliver, were helping with relief efforts. Still, Asher hadn’t wasted enough time, so he’d stopped at Mustang Park.
He’d burned through more of the diesel in his quad-cab pickup than he cared to admit, while he let her nap in the back, but at least Jace would already be at his hospital appointment by the time he returned to the ranch. He was in no shape to answer more of his potential brother’s questions just yet.
“Sorry, kiddo. We’ll be home real soon if we can stop having to pull off all the time.”
As if responding to his comment, a strange-looking truck with a flashing light sped toward them. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pass no cars on a trip to and from town. This made four. Even though the vehicle was three-quarters of a mile back, Asher remained on the shoulder until it passed. Under the emblem for the Arizona Department of Public Safety were the chilling words Bomb Squad. His stomach muscles clenched.
“Oh, God, no,” he said what he hoped was under his breath.
He didn’t want to upset Harper more than she already was, but he had to know if he was right. Without any proof, he was almost certain that those emergency vehicles were headed straight to Colton Oil headquarters.
After making a U-turn in the middle of the two-lane highway, he pulled behind the fast-moving vehicle and kept pace. He could afford a ticket, not the loss of his family members.
A half mile from the exact location he’d predicted, they came upon a police roadblock, a squad car with the familiar Mustang Valley Police Department insignia on the door, parked across the two lanes. Lit flares were on the road in front of it.
The bomb squad vehicle wove around the police car, tossing up gravel from the shoulder. If not for the precious cargo in his back seat, he would have followed it. Instead, he honored the posted officer’s demand to stop.
He parked his car at the side of the road, unbuckled Harper from her seat and pulled on her hat and sunglasses. Then he approached Officer Lizzie Manfred.
“Hey, Lizzie. What’s going on at the headquarters?”
