Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

“They live on a sprawling estate with several outbuildings, so the entire property and all vehicles, electronics—”

“Yes, so I see. And we’ll freeze all financial accounts. Are you planning to involve the federal authorities?”

“Probably. We need a chance to examine the evidence first.”

“Of course, of course.” The judge hesitated. “I think we’re okay here, but I should disclose that I’ve had dealings with the charity foundation. In fact, you’ll be hard pressed to find a judge who hasn’t.”

“How’s that, Your Honor?”

“We and our spouses have participated in several charity events to raise money for them. As did the local bar association, the medical association, Cambria City College—”

In other words, Standish had tainted pretty much Craven County’s entire upper strata. The people with money or influence or both.

“Bottom line,” the judge finished, “is you’re going to have some very upset people knocking on your door wanting answers, Detective Sergeant. You’d best prepare yourself.”

Luka held his irritation in check. He hated when cases got political. “Thanks, Your Honor. I appreciate it.”

He hung up and caught Wilson’s eye.

“This is going to be a red ball, isn’t it?” the CSU tech said with a frown. “You know we can’t rush—”

“I know. Do the best you can.” Luka sighed. “I need to call Ahearn.” The commander would want advance warning of the political tsunami headed their way.

“Good luck with that. I’ll have my guys finish here and we’ll take the SUV to the garage for complete processing.”

Luka nodded and left the air-conditioned confines of the CSU van, the outside air hitting him like a blast wave. He tried Ahearn but there was no answer, so he left a voicemail. Then he crossed the lawn and climbed the porch stairs to enter the Standish residence.

It was as opulent on the inside as he’d expected, although mostly due to the lavish construction materials and ornate architecture. The foyer was empty of any personal items and when he stepped through the archway into the spacious front room, he saw that it was furnished only with a few tasteful antique sofas and chairs grouped into conversation areas. There were few personal effects, making the house feel more like a property staged for sale than a lived-in home.

Harper and Tassi were huddled together on a loveseat, Tassi weeping into Harper’s shoulder and Harper awkwardly attempting to comfort the widow. Luka hid his smile as she pleaded silently with him to rescue her.

“Detective Harper, could you fetch a glass of water for Mrs. Standish?” He offered Harper a lifeline. She nodded gratefully, disentangled herself from Tassi, and leapt from the sofa, heading to the rear of the house.

“I know this is difficult, Mrs. Standish,” Luka started as he chose a chair at right angles to the loveseat where Tassi was now curled around its arm, her tears staining the silk upholstery.

“It’s Tassi, please,” she corrected him with a sniff.

“Tassi. If you’re up to it, I’d love to hear more about Spencer. When did you first move here?”

Before she could answer, the front door banged open and a blond man in his fifties strode past Luka as if he wasn’t even there, taking the seat Harper had vacated. He wore a black suit and clerical collar and Tassi immediately turned, wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s all right,” he told her. “I’m here now. Don’t say another word. Let me handle everything.” He patted Tassi’s back, then looked past her to Luka. “Detective Sergeant Jericho, I presume? I’m Reverend Matthew Harper.”

Eight

The pregnant woman moaned and pulled her knees to her chest, an instinctual posture of impending birth. Leah knelt beside her.

“Breathe through it, breathe.” She demonstrated. Once the contraction had passed, she said, “What’s your name?”

The woman didn’t answer right away. She took a few deep breaths. “Beth.”

“Beth, I’m Leah. When’s your due date?”

“Next month. It’s too soon—” Another contraction cut off her words. Leah didn’t need to glance at any clock to know this baby was coming. Now.

“Beth, I’m a doctor. I’m going to help you and your baby. First, I need to get us some help.” The fair would have an ambulance and crew stationed on site. Leah glanced toward the tent, ready to summon someone from inside, but Beth grabbed her arm.

“No. Don’t go.”

Ruby and the kids came running out of the tent. “What’s going on?” Ruby asked. But then she quickly took in the situation. “Kids, stay back.”

“Get the ambulance over here,” Leah told her as another contraction writhed its way through Beth. “I need more hands.” She’d soon have two patients to care for, one of them a premature baby. Ruby nodded and shepherded the kids back into the tent. Leah grabbed a bottle of water and used it to rinse her hands, then reached into her bag for the small bottle of hand sanitizer. All she had by way of supplies were basic items: an Ace wrap, some Band-Aids, a clasp knife, an Israeli trauma dressing. She’d been anticipating scraped knees and twisted ankles, not a preemie.

The contraction passed and Beth fell back against the stack of bottles. “Are you allergic to anything? Taking any medicines? Have any medical problems?”

Beth vehemently shook her head to each question. “I feel like I need to push,” she gasped.

“Don’t push, not yet. Try to breathe through it. I’m going to examine you, see how close the baby is. Is that okay?”

Beth nodded.

“Your ultrasounds all normal, no signs that the baby is breach?” Although with a preemie, they could flip positions. Leah ran through the neonatal resuscitation protocols in her mind—it’d been a long time since she’d delivered a baby. Usually if a woman made it as far as the ER, they could get them to Obstetrics in time to give birth up there. “How many weeks did they say the baby was?”

Beth clenched her teeth, although Leah had her hand on her belly and didn’t feel a contraction. Finally, Beth answered. “Missed my last few