"Put some pillows under his feet," Amy answers.

"And then take pictures," Addison calls out, still remaining in position. Zac doesn't laugh or argue. He really isn't feeling well but maybe a tiny little bit of pink is returning to his cheeks.

I go into the bathroom and wet a washcloth for him. "Here. Maybe this will help."

He takes it and wipes his face. "Thanks. I think I'm gonna be okay now." He sighs. "I can't f.u.c.king stand needles."

I look at the black ink on his biceps. "Both of your upper arms are covered in tats."

"That's different. Those only tap the surface of the skin. Nothing gets shoved into your spine."

"They didn't shove a needle in Addison's spine." But it did sort of look like that's what they were doing.

"I think I can sit up now." He rises to a sitting position and puts his feet on the floor, staring down so he doesn't catch a glimpse of Addie or what they're doing to her. "You all right over there, blondie?"

Addison doesn't answer and we both spin around to see what's going on. Amy smiles and points at Addie. "Already asleep."

Is that normal? "Did the epidural put her to sleep?"

"The epidural didn't do that. She's exhausted because she's been at this for a while, and it's quite early, so the poor thing is worn out." And I'm sure she wasn't in the bed sleeping when all of this got started. I'm guessing Jack Henry almost had the scenario right.

I use Addison's little nappy time to step out and see Jack Henry since it's been hours. I'm surprised, or rather shocked, when I find him in a civil conversation with Ben. I think they're discussing work from the little bit I hear-something about vineyards and the management of them depending upon the location. Chloe sees me before they do and shrugs, giving me a baffled look. I want to eavesdrop, just to see what they're talking about, but Jack Henry looks over and sees me. "Hey. How's it going in there?"

"Better now, but it was really bad for a while. She's four centimeters, got an epidural, and is comfortable. She's napping."

"Are you scared now?"

h.e.l.l, yeah. I'm terrified. "I was scared before but what I just saw confirms that there's reason to be and she hasn't even had the baby yet. It's going to be rough, McLachlan."

"You're tough as nails, L. I have faith in you."

It takes the better part of the morning for Addison to get to ten centimeters-thirteen hours from the start-but we're told that's about average. Next comes the fun part: pushing this child out of her body. He's thirty-six weeks' gestation so technically, he's still considered a preterm infant. Surely, he can't be too big if he's almost a month early, right?

"Ten centimeters is my cue to go, Addie."

"You're leaving me because you're a chickens.h.i.t and don't want to see what's about to happen."

Probably. "This time belongs to you and Zac."

I lean down to hug her before I leave. "I'm scared, Laurie."

"No fear. You're gonna rock this."

I join Addie's family and Jack Henry in the waiting room and we wait for an excruciating ninety minutes before we're allowed back.

We enter Addie's room and the most beautiful baby boy in the world rests in her arms. He's red and wrinkly, and screaming because he's p.i.s.sed off-how fitting for Addison's child. Zac is leaning over kissing Addison's face, telling her how much he loves her, and I get a glimpse of the happiness Jack Henry and I are going to feel when James Henry or Maggie James arrives. I can not wait.

Addison turns her son around for us to see and Zac announces, "Donavon Zachary Kingston arrived at eleven forty-one, weighing six pounds, two ounces, measuring nineteen inches."

Yeah. Addison got her way on her son's name, but I never doubted she would.

Mrs. Porcelli has the week off so this morning, I'm eating a lovely country breakfast my wife has cooked for me-bacon, biscuits, and gravy made just the way Nanna taught her. My wife is quite the little cook but then again, she's good at everything she does.

It's funny how she never used to get out of bed before I left for work, but now she's up with me every morning. I think it's the pregnancy playing tricks on her, or maybe preparing her body for less sleep since she's thirty-two weeks now. Only eight more to go-if she reaches her due date. Either way, she still crashes midafternoon, so her body is still getting the rest it needs.

I'm finishing my last bite when L's phone rings-her mom's ringtone. They've spoken very little since Laurelyn was in the hospital, and I don't have a problem with that. Jolie Prescott rarely has anything positive to say.

She looks at the phone and I think she's debating if she'll answer. "I wonder what it will be this time."

"You don't have to answer it. I certainly wouldn't think less of you."

"I always worry something has happened to Nanna or Pops. They're the only reason I answer most of the time." She picks up her phone. "Hi, Mom."

Laurelyn motions for me to leave my dishes as I gather and take them to the sink to rinse before placing them in the dishwasher. I know she doesn't mind doing that for me, and maybe it even makes her feel more domestic when she does. I've often pondered how she feels about having Mrs. Porcelli here taking care of our home-if it's an intrusion into her role as my wife or if she's happy she's freed up from household demands so she may devote her days to composing, rather than laundry.

I close the dishwasher door and see Laurelyn grab the kitchen counter for support. "When?"

I reach for her, afraid her legs will give beneath her, and a.s.sume the worst-that something has happened to one of her beloved grandparents. I steer her toward a barstool and she sits, placing her elbow on the counter and propping her head in her palm, pushing her hair away from her face. She leaves it there, her hand holding her head. "That's all the information they're releasing?"

She ends the call with her mum and looks at me, saying nothing. "What's happened?"

"What have you done?"

I'm baffled as to what she's talking about. "What do you mean?"

"Blake Phillips was found dead this morning-a gunshot to the chest."

And she a.s.sumes I had something to do with it? "Are you asking me if I had Blake killed?"

"Yes."

I can't believe she thinks I'm capable of something like that. I've had lots of thoughts about it, and maybe even insinuated I'd like to, but I'd never be able to take someone's life. "What kind of person do you take me for?"

"One who loves his wife and would take care of the man who attacked her and got away with it. And one who asked me for a no questions asked."

That's what this is about. "I had some things I was working on where Blake was concerned, but I had no part in his death."

"I want to know what you were doing."

I guess the no questions asked is null and void now. "Jim went to Nashville when I found out the charges against Blake were being dropped. I was going out of my mind because he was going to get away with what he did to you, so I wanted to find another way to make him pay. If he didn't do time for attacking you, I was going to ruin him any way possible."

"What did Jim find?"

She's going to be sick all over again when I tell her what we know. "You weren't the only one Blake attacked. He raped a young woman last fall while you were dating. She was being represented by Blake and suddenly dropped off the grid, leaving the music industry. It seems there's a pattern of that with his female clients so Jim took a closer look. He located a few of the women but none would talk-until Hannah Dody."

She's nodding. "I remember Hannah well. She was really young, something like nineteen, but quite good. Blake told me she left because she couldn't cut it in the music industry, so she went home to Mommy and Daddy, his words verbatim."

"She's the only one who would talk to Jim. She admitted that Blake raped her."

"You haven't gone to Grayson Drake with this?"

No, but I'm wishing I had now. "No. Jim is still investigating the other leads."

"Are they going to look at you for this?"

It's a possibility after the way I acted when I spoke with the prosecutor. "I don't know the circ.u.mstances of his death, so I have no idea."

"Please tell me you didn't make any threats when you spoke with Drake."

I was frustrated and outraged when I spoke with the a.s.sistant prosecutor. I have very little memory of that conversation, with one exception. "I may have mentioned something about having money and connections."

Laurelyn covers her eyes with her hand. "Oh G.o.d, you didn't."

I could've said much worse, and it's a million wonders I didn't. "I'd just been told Blake was going to walk, so I was p.i.s.sed off. They can't use that against me. I've been right here with you all this time and that's easily proven."

"But they could say you hired someone."

She's a.s.suming the worst. "We have no idea what the circ.u.mstances are. They might already have a suspect in custody. Someone could've confessed. We don't know."

"You have to contact Grayson Drake and tell him what you know."

That could be mistake. "I don't know if that's the best thing or not. I had a PI under my employment investigating a man who attacked my wife, and then he turns up dead. That doesn't look great for me."

"Withholding information doesn't look great, either," she argues.

Agreed. "I should contact my lawyer."

"I think that's a good idea."

My attorney, Rhett Clarence, is able to speak with me when I call-one of the privileges of being considered a VIP client. I explain everything from the beginning and he feels we have no choice but to notify the prosecutor's office about the information Jim uncovered. But he insists on making the call himself.

Waiting to hear from Rhett is brutal. Hours pa.s.s and I realize for the first time that I could actually be suspected of hiring someone to kill Blake. I certainly had motive and I hired someone to investigate his life. They could say I was studying him and his routines to pull off the perfect crime.

L and I are sitting on the couch. She's leaning against me, her head on my shoulder. "I wanted Blake to go to jail but I didn't want him dead. I know what he was, but there are three little kids without a dad now. At least if he'd gone to jail, they'd still have him. Sort of."

"You didn't wish him dead because your heart is good and you want the best for those three innocent children. You're compa.s.sionate, and it's only one of the many things I love about you." I, on the other hand, wished a thousand times over that I'd killed him in that hotel room that night.

My phone rings. I don't hesitate in answering. "h.e.l.lo."

"Rhett here."

"What did you find out?"

"They're still working out the details of what happened but that young woman you told me about, Hannah Dody, committed suicide two days ago. She left a letter saying she couldn't live with what Blake had done to her. They believe her father was overcome by fury and grief to the point that he was waiting for Blake in the parking garage of the recording studio. He shot him as he was getting into his car."

My heart goes out to Hannah's family. No one should ever have to experience an attack or its aftermath. And now this family has lost not only Hannah but her father as well. That could easily be me. Blake wasn't able to finish his attempted rape of Laurelyn, but what would I have done had I not gotten there in time? I don't have to answer my own question-I already know.

"Thank you, Rhett. You've put my mind at ease."

I end the call and Laurelyn looks at me in antic.i.p.ation. "What?"

"Hannah Dody killed herself two days ago and left a note naming Blake as the reason. Her father shot Blake because he was so distraught over his daughter's suicide."

"That poor family. I met Mr. Dody. He came to the studio with Hannah several times. He always called her his shining star and she'd get embarra.s.sed and kid that she wasn't going to let him come back. They were a close father and daughter, and I envied her for that."

I pull L close and squeeze her. My girl is strong, but who knows how she would've coped if Blake had finished what he started with her. "I never want to let you out of my sight again." I put my hand on her tummy. "Or Maggie James." I haven't even laid eyes on her yet and I already know I'd kill to protect her. "I hope Hannah's father isn't convicted for what he did."

"I'd be surprised if he can afford a good attorney. I remember Hannah telling me money was tight. I let her borrow clothes more than one time because she didn't have anything that didn't come from a thrift store."

Hannah's father was out of his mind with grief. He deserves proper representation. "I want to help her father. He deserves a decent chance at defending himself." L doesn't say anything so I'm not sure what she thinks about that. "How do you feel about me paying his legal fees?"

"Very proud, McLachlan."

Thirty-six weeks and I'm seeing Dr. Sommersby today for the removal of that st.i.tch that's been holding James Henry or Maggie James inside for eighteen weeks. One of two things will happen: I'll either go into labor due to the manipulation of my cervix, which causes contractions, or I could do nothing and be pregnant a month from now. No one knows until it happens.

I'm sent to labor and delivery for the removal of the cerclage so I can be observed for labor afterward. I'm thrilled when Amy, Addison's nurse, comes into my room. She stops once inside the door and looks at my face.

"Wait a minute. I recognize you. Have I taken care of you before?"

"I was admitted for a week several months ago, but you were never my nurse. You're remembering me from when my friend had her baby a couple of months ago. Addison Kingston."

"Yes! I remember Addison well."

She's a hard one to forget. "Probably because she showed her a.s.s so bad."

"She was fun to take care of. Her poor husband is the one who had to lie down on the couch with his legs up."

"What happened to Zac?"

Oh, I forgot to tell Jack Henry about that. "He got a little woozy during the epidural. Said he can't stand needles." I shrug. "He says tattoo needles are different than medical needles so he totally wussed out. I had to take care of him because Amy was busy with Addison."

He's highly amused. "You didn't tell me that."

"The only thing on my mind was Donavon's arrival."

Amy pa.s.ses me a gown. "Take everything off, ties go in the back, and I'll return in a few to get you hooked up on the monitor."

"That was kind of hot hearing another woman tell you to take everything off."

Good grief. "Oh, give me a break."

"I have-an eighteen-week break." I slip my top over my head and then remove my bra.

He never needs to throw this break in my face after all I've done for him. "Hey, I've compensated in other areas for you. Not every pregnant wife would be so generous."

"I'm so very thankful. You'll never know how much I've enjoyed every single time you wrapped your pretty little mouth around my c.o.c.k. Your hand jobs are an art form in themselves, especially with that little trick you do, but I've got to tell you that I'm beyond excited about getting inside you again."

What he just said registers in my head. "OmiG.o.d. You don't want me to go into labor after the cerclage removal because you want to go home and f.u.c.k."