Too Sweet to Die by T. Doyle (the false prince .TXT) 📗

the link to Ray and closed my laptop. I rewarded myself with snuggling Joe on the couch. We watched Joe Kenda on the Investigation Discovery channel and I wished I had his interview skills.

He squeezed my shoulder. “What’s got you huffing?”

“Am I?” I snuggled in closer. “Okay, I guess I am. I’m worried about the babies Tyler placed for adoption. What if some of them were kidnapped? A lot of parents could be missing their children. And a lot of unsuspecting adoptive parents could lose their families. I would help Angela and Christopher escape with Paul before letting someone take him from us.”

Joe kissed the top of my head. “Those are some depressing thoughts. Hopefully Tyler has a connection with an orphanage and only wanted to hide his assets from his ex-wife.”

I really hoped so. But the thought of parents missing children niggled at my brain. An uncomfortable feeling pierced my heart and dredged up the sensation that I never fit in with my own family.

Having been around Joe’s family for a couple of decades made me realize how strained my birth family ties were. The television flashed a scene of a woman having an affair with her golf pro and provoked my anger at my mom for asking me to hide her secret affair. “Joe, I might ask Ray to help me find my birth father.”

He twisted on the couch to face me. “Okay. You could take one of those DNA test kits everyone is using today, and maybe narrow down the field. Some of them even list possible relatives.”

Excitement shivered down my spine. “Really?”

“Yeah, if a sibling or cousin has taken the test and agreed to share the information, you can contact them.” Joe wrapped his warm hand around mine. “You could ask your mom again.”

I shuddered. “No, the last time she made it clear she never wanted to discuss my biological dad. She didn’t talk to me for months afterwards.” Our relationship had never really recovered, making me feel more like an outsider than ever at family get-togethers.

“Do you think your dad would divorce your mom if he found out?” Joe’s soft voice held no judgement.

“I’m not sure. Dad’s a good guy, but I always felt like he treated me differently. He coached Robby’s and Samantha’s soccer teams, but not mine. Maybe it was because I was the youngest and he was tired. I felt lucky he showed up for my high school graduation.”

Joe tugged me into his arms. “The thing is, Babe, they were having trouble before you were born, or she wouldn’t have had an affair. None of this is your fault.”

“But it feels like it is,” I whispered.

“And I’ll never forgive your mom for making you feel that way.” He kissed me and made me believe everything would be fine. “Take the DNA test. And do some investigating into your mom’s hobbies back then. She met this guy, your bio dad, and spent time with him without raising too much suspicion.” Joe nodded toward the television. “My guess would be someone at your parents’ country club maybe, or one of the charities your mom worked on.”

“Mom does love her charities.” Actually, she loved organizing black-tie events so she could dress up, and her charity work allowed someone else to foot the bill for her extravagant tastes. It amazed me that I shared any DNA with her.

“You know what would be crazy?” I hugged Joe’s arm tighter around my waist.

“What?”

“What if none of my siblings are related to Dad? Maybe Mom had three affairs and not just one.” I turned to face him. “Maybe that’s why Mom’s afraid of my questions.”

Joe’s eyebrows rose and he got that twinkle in his eye. “We should give your siblings the DNA test for Christmas this year. Tell them ancestry has become your new hobby.”

“You are devious.”

“I’m an eeevuuul genius,” he drawled.

That night, I dreamt of milk cartons with photos of parents pleading for the return of their babies. They screamed, weird piercing screeches.

I woke to the sound of Joe’s alarm clock. I sat up, slid my glasses on, and shuffled into the kitchen. Joe had set the timer and a pot of fresh-brewed coffee was waiting for us. I fixed two cups and brought Joe’s cup into the bathroom and watched him shave.

“You okay, Babe?”

“No. If Tyler had knowingly placed kidnapped babies, he’s the evilest man in the world. And I could be responsible for ruining the adoptive families’ dreams. What if a parent showed up and wanted Paul back?” I gulped my coffee, hoping to fill the enormous black hole that seemed to be expanding in the pit of my stomach.

“That wouldn’t happen. Angela and Christopher knew the mother,” Joe reminded me.

“But they never met the dad. What if he never knew she was pregnant? Could he have a claim on Paul now? And what about my Mom? Do you think she ever told my bio dad about me? He’s got grandchildren he’s never met.”

Joe rinsed his face off, patted it dry and hugged me. “Hey, we’ll find him, okay? And if you’re really worried about Paul, call Angela.” He tilted my chin and kissed me. “Can we not call your father bio dad, though? I picture a guy in a HazMat suit.” Joe’s crooked smile shrank my worries.

“Okay. How about Pop?”

“Pop is great.” Joe tucked my head against his chest and rocked me side to side. “What if your dad strayed, too? Between him and Pop you could have more siblings, more nieces and nephews, more cousins.”

“Oh my. Maybe I should listen to Mom and drop it.”

“No.” Joe released me. “I think you should find Pop, find your family. He deserves to know about you. I’d be furious if someone kept my child from me.”

Which brought my worries back to my nephew and kidnapped babies being put up for adoption. And poor Mrs. Almond who still missed her first child, forced to put up for adoption by her father. “I thought empty-nest meant