This must be another one of those pregnancy moments I read about. I fold her in my arms and kiss the top of her head. “I am certain that an analysist for the FBI with access to the best artificial intelligence in the world, can figure all this stuff out.”
She sniffs. “I wonder how other people do it.”
“Me, too, sugar. Me too.”
Chapter 12
Suds
Our flight to the Bahamas takes a couple hours and during it, Sam reads aloud from her baby book. By the time we touch down, I’m ready to reenlist.
Who knew having a baby takes a master’s degree? Apparently, cribs, baby seats, and toys can be lethal. Then, there’s foods, vitamins, and milk pumps. By the time she suggests we play Beethoven to her belly, I need a drink.
“Dr. Esposito, my GYN, is retiring.” She closes her notebook, the wheels drop to the tarmac, and I’m sorry to report I’m only half-listening.
“I’m thinking of using a nurse midwife.”
“Huh?” Picturing a medieval Russian woman in a babushka, I place my palm to her forehead. “You don’t feel warm but you must have a fever. We need a real doctor with a hospital.”
“Just look. Please.” She opens her iPad and pushes the screen in front of my nose.
“Vassar? Harvard?” As our plane taxis us toward the building, I read aloud the names of the women she is considering and their fancy degrees. I’d prefer a doctor but hell, it’s her body. She needs to feel comfortable.
“Whatever you want, momma, but I’d feel better if you delivered in a hospital.”
“We can have both. You are so sweet.” For the hundredth time today, her voice hitches and eyes glisten. She has never cried at the drop of a hat.
Then, it hits me. This is my new norm but I have no time to ponder the implications further because we’re in the airport. All business and naked without a weapon, I keep her close as we walk the length of the terminal.
Outside I wave down our driver and when we arrive at the walled-in fortress, Sam whistles through her teeth. “When the Whitbreads said their friends owned a timeshare, I pictured a condo.”
“Me too.” Jumping out, I press the code they gave me, and the iron gate opens.
I appreciate how it locks tight after we drive through. However, despite the high security, I’m uneasy. I can’t put my finger on it but as soon as I can, I’ll move us to a more populated area.
Sam, however, likes the place just fine. After changing into a string bikini, she plops on a lounge chair with her face at the sun. “This is awesome. I always wanted to visit the islands.”
The Bahamas never made my bucket list. The vast majority of folks are good people but there’s also sewer rats living under the surface and preying on the wealthy.
“I’m gonna check the perimeter. Be right back.” I walk the length of the brick wall surrounding the estate. It starts and ends at the water’s edge. As long as I keep her close, we should be fine.
Back at the house, Sam snoozes, arms and legs dangling. A few more days in the sun and her cares will melt away. While she relaxes, I rent a boat. We’ll cruise over to Cave Cove, have a sit down with Ms. Liddy and guilt her into changing her mind.
When Sam wakes, I ask her a question that’s been bugging me. “Hey, babe. Did you ever fully vet the Whitbreads?”
“No. Usually Slate does it. Why?” Standing, she stretches and for a moment my mind goes blank at her sexy body.
Eventually, oxygen returns to my brain and I’m able to carry on a conversation. “I was wondering why Gillian changed her mind about having their baby. Do you suppose she saw or heard something?”
“Huh. I’ll ask Jason.” While she hooks up the wifi, I put on shorts and run along the beach. I want to scope out our nearest neighbors.
When I return, she’s’ cursing up a storm at her computer screen.
“What’s wrong?” I lift her hair and kiss the back of her neck while she scowls at her Windows settings.
“My brain doesn’t work right without coffee.”
“C’mon, now. It’s not so bad.” I retype her password, the network connects, and she grumbles.
