Be My Baby: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 3 Page 27

  “Your mother is not being charged with anything by my office.” Pete’s voice was glacial. “However, she has a lot to answer for unofficially. We’re here to support my brother. And Jess.”

  Lydia snorted, elevating one elegant eyebrow. Across the room from her Preston cleared his throat.

  “My…sister-in-law left Belle View rather hurriedly, after being interviewed by an agent from Child Welfare Services. The agency has an open file on her. We’ve been quite worried about my nephew’s safety. Can we see him now?”

  He kept his gaze on Lars, avoiding Jess, his glasses flashing blank in the light.

  “My son isn’t here,” she said tightly. “He’s in a safe place.”

  Preston’s forehead furrowed as he glanced back at her. “Safe? Safe from what?”

  “From your family and its employees.”

  Lydia’s mouth narrowed to a thin line. “The child can hardly be safe with a negligent mother.”

  Jess’s chest clenched. Suddenly, her throat felt too tight to answer.

  “You did leave Belle View rather abruptly.” Preston sounded almost apologetic.

  “I left because your family was harassing me. And because I had no intention of letting you take my son away.” At least her voice was steady, although her hands were trembling.

  “Harassing?” Preston stared at her blankly. “How could I harass you? I only met you once—at Barrett’s funeral.”

  “What happened before Jess got here may be relevant as background,” Lars cut in. “But what we’re really concerned with is what happened to her here in Konigsburg.”

  “Here?” Moreland glanced around the room. “I didn’t even know there was a town called Konigsburg, Texas, until a few days ago when you called me. I’ve never had any business in Texas, nor has my mother. I believe this is her first visit to this state.” He flicked a glance in Lydia’s direction.

  Erik took what looked like a cell phone out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “I don’t know what my brother has told you about these recordings, Mr. Moreland, but I think you need to hear them for yourself. They’ll make several things more clear.”

  Preston turned toward his mother again, his forehead furrowing. Then he glanced back at Erik. “I would like to hear them, yes.”

  “Preston!” Lydia’s voice was like a whip crack. “You will do no such thing. It’s all a trick.”

  Moreland stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “Yes I will, Mother. I have to.”

  Erik nodded. “I thought you might feel that way.”

  He leaned forward and pressed a button on the mini-recorder. A moment later, an oddly distorted voice echoed from the table.

  “Mrs. Moreland?”

  “This is Lydia Moreland. To whom am I speaking?”

  Lydia looked carved out of ice, her head held high, her hands clasped in her lap. Jess had a feeling Mary Queen of Scots had looked like that when she’d climbed the scaffold. Although on second thought, Lydia looked more like the man with the ax.

  The voices droned on. After the first few minutes, Lars took her hand in his, trying to warm her ice-cold fingers.

  It took very little time to hear all the conversations—less than thirty minutes. Dahlia had managed to keep things moving. After the first few minutes, Jess turned away from Lydia’s frozen disdain to watch Preston. His expression didn’t change as Lydia’s voice droned on, but the muscles in his jaw became tighter. When the recorded voices finally gave way to silence, he swallowed hard.

  “Did anything…did this person harm anyone?”

  Erik leaned over to switch the recorder off. “The woman your mother hired tried to break into Ms. Carroll’s house several times. Ultimately, she managed to snatch your nephew at the county fairgrounds by shocking Ms. Carroll with a Taser. Fortunately, she was apprehended before she could escape with the child.”

  Preston stared down at his hands, his jaw working. “Jesus Christ.”

  “Preston, don’t be an idiot!” Lydia’s voice sounded very much like the recorded version. “You can’t really believe that was my voice on that…fabrication. Don’t you think if they actually had any evidence implicating me in a kidnapping, I’d be under arrest by now?”

  Preston turned toward his mother, his expression shifting from shock to doubt.

  “You know who’s responsible for this.” Lydia turned her Medusa gaze toward Jess. “She thought she was going to come into a great deal of money with Barrett. Then when that didn’t work out, she thought she’d use Barrett’s son as her bargaining chip. Now she’s trying direct blackmail. And she’s gotten these men to help her. Her kind can always find men to help her.”

  Jess had been able to control her nausea while the recording had droned on. Just as well since she had no idea where the nearest restroom was. Now she considered vomiting in Lydia’s lap. “How exactly did I set this up to blackmail you, Mrs. Moreland? I didn’t even know Dahlia Smith until she tried to kidnap my son.”

  “Oh, for god’s sake! Don’t you think we know these things can be faked? You must have paid someone to create it for you. Or you did it yourself. You used to work with computers, didn’t you?” Lydia waved her hand dismissively, then turned her glittering blue gaze toward Lars. “How much?”

  Pete pushed himself upright. He was the shortest of the brothers, but when he was angry, as he was right then, Jess thought he looked around eight feet two. Yet when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly mild. “Are you offering my brother a bribe, Mrs. Moreland?”

  Lydia sighed. “You. Your brothers. Whoever’s in charge here. I want this nonsense to end. Now. Tell us what it will take to make that happen.”

  “Mother, for god’s sake. He’s a county attorney. The other one’s a cop.” Preston’s expression seemed to be a combination of panic and exasperation. Jess wondered if he’d ever really seen his mother in action before.

  “Preston, be quiet,” his mother snapped. “I’ll handle this. I repeat—how much?”

  “As I recall, a hefty fine and anywhere from five to fifteen years in prison, in my case anyway,” Pete drawled. “I’d have to check on the penalties for bribing a city police officer. I suggest you listen to your son, Mrs. Moreland. This isn’t an auction. Jess’s safety isn’t for sale.”

  Lydia’s lips snapped back to a thin line, her gaze laser-sharp. If she’d had super-powers, Jess suspected Pete would have been a pile of ashes.

  “Mother, stop it,” Preston pleaded. He turned back toward Pete. “I apologize for this misunderstanding, but my mother has raised a significant point—how do I know these calls weren’t faked?”

  Erik picked up the recorder again, sliding it back into his pocket. “The FBI lab can probably determine that for sure. However, the person on the other end of those calls confirmed that the recipient was Mrs. Moreland. And we have the actual cell phone from which the calls were made. Mrs. Moreland’s number is programmed into it.”

  Preston swallowed. “The FBI?”

  “They have the original conversations, Mr. Moreland.”

  There was a moment of silence. Lydia glanced around the room, her gaze finally resting on Erik. “I want to talk to her.”

  “Who?”

  “This…person. This woman who said I hired her. I want to talk to her. Bring her here.”

  Jess held her breath. If they found out Dahlia was missing, everything fell apart.

  Erik shrugged. “That’s not possible, Mrs. Moreland.”

  “I have a right to confront my accuser.”

  “She’s not accusing you of anything.” Lars moved beside his brothers. “We are. More specifically, I am.”

  “You? What on earth…”

  “Mother!” Preston’s voice drowned out his mother’s. She turned to stare at him, open-mouthed.

  “Be quiet for a moment.” Preston turned toward Lars. “Enough. What do you want?”

  “I want you to guarantee Jess’s safety. And Jack’s.”

  Preston blinked at him. “Jack?�
��

  The corners of Lars’s mouth quirked up in a dry smile. “Your nephew. The center of this controversy.”

  Preston nodded slowly. “I assure you. I have no interest in harming my sister-in-law or her son.”

  Lars’s smile faded. “It’s not you I’m worried about, Mr. Moreland.”

  Preston swallowed. “My mother also promises not to interfere.”

  “Your mother does no such thing!” Lydia leaned forward, her gaze fastened on Jess. “My grandson belongs with his family. His real family. The Morelands. I intend to take you through every court between here and Philadelphia. I will make sure my lawyers go through your life thoroughly, until they find every detail of your affairs.” Her gaze flicked to Lars and back. “Quite thoroughly. A judge may have some opinions on how fit a blackmailer is as a mother. When I’m done with you, no court in this country will leave a baby in your care.”

  Jess raised her head slowly, her gaze holding Lydia’s. “I won’t let you take my son.” Jess’s fingers closed painfully tight on Lars’s hand, but she didn’t look away. “You can try whatever you want, but I won’t let that happen. Never. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure it doesn’t.”

  “Ms. Carroll.”

  Jess glanced toward Preston Moreland reluctantly. She really didn’t want to take her eyes off Lydia, not even for a moment. She didn’t trust her not to pull out a garrote.

  “You said you were harassed in Belle View. What did you mean by that?”

  Jess’s forehead furrowed. “I lost my job because your family forced me out of it. Then you had three of my friends fired for good measure. I lost my lease.”

  “Fired? From where?” Preston turned toward his mother. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

  Lydia shrugged. “She was working for one of our companies while refusing me access to my grandson. Why should we pay her to do that?”

  Preston closed his eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m sorry about that, Ms. Carroll. Was that the problem with the Child Welfare Office?”

  Jess pressed her lips into a thin line. “No, that was the guy you hired to cause a disturbance at my place. That set me up so that you could sic the Child Welfare Service on me.”

  “You admit you were investigated by the Child Welfare people,” Lydia snapped. “Then you ran away in the middle of the night without telling them. They have an open file on you.”

  Jess turned back to her. “I’m sure they do. I’m also sure you guaranteed that the file would stay open by using your contacts. And I ran away in the middle of the night because you were having me watched.”

  “Paranoia in addition to neglect.” Lydia’s mouth stretched in what looked like a parody of a smile. “I’m sure the Child Welfare people will be interested to hear that. They can contact whatever agency handles such things down here. Single mothers are always an inherent risk.”

  “That’s enough,” Lars growled. “That’s more than enough.”

  Lydia turned her gaze to him for the first time. “And who might you be? The latest boyfriend?”

  “Like I said, my name is Lars Toleffson.” He leaned across the table, towering over Lydia. Looming was much more effective that way, Jess reflected. “And I’m the man who’s going to marry Jess.”

  The silence in the room had an electric quality, mainly from the other Toleffsons, both of whom were staring blankly at Lars.

  “That will make Jack my stepson. Of course, since I intend to adopt him, he’ll soon be more than that.” Lars was very carefully not looking at Jess. “Jess will be a Toleffson. She won’t be alone, and she won’t be vulnerable to you.”

  The silence lasted another few seconds. Then Lydia Moreland’s rictus smile slid into a sneer. “Another fortune-hunter? I don’t think so. I’ll make sure my lawyers put a stop to that. There’ll be no adoption of my grandson. Not by anyone!”

  “Mother!” Preston Moreland’s voice roared from the other side of the room.

  Jess turned toward him. Preston had risen from his chair. For a smallish man, he did a fairly impressive job of looming himself.

  “Preston.” Lydia shot him an annoyed glance. “Don’t interrupt.”

  Preston Moreland’s hands clenched convulsively at his sides. “Mother. Shut. Up.”

  Lydia stared at him open-mouthed. Preston stared back. Whatever she saw was enough to make her subside into annoyed silence.

  Preston turned to Pete. “I’ll ask you again. What do you want from us?”

  Pete blinked at him, then seemed to recollect what they were talking about. “Jess?” He turned toward her slightly. “Tell them what you want.”

  Jess looked up at Lars, warmth building slowly behind her breastbone. The warrior accountant. Her warrior accountant. She turned back to Preston Moreland. “I want you to stop trying to take my son away from me. More than that. I want you to leave both of us alone from now on. Permanently.”

  Moreland sighed. “I understand your feelings. Yes, of course, I’ll stop any contact if that’s what you want.”

  “Preston!” Lydia’s voice sounded slightly choked.

  “I promise.” Moreland raised his voice slightly. “I’ll make sure my mother doesn’t bother you anymore. No one from our family will interfere with your life.”

  Judging from Lydia’s expression, Preston would be lucky to survive the flight back to Belle View, let alone keep her in check.

  Preston took a deep breath, turning to face his mother directly. “When we get back to Belle View, I’ll inform the department chiefs that they are to report any attempts you make to contact them. And to ignore those attempts. I’ll make sure the security division knows that includes them as well. In fact, before we left this morning I told your friend Roy Westerman to clear out his office by close of business today. I knew you’d done something, but I had no idea how bad it was until now. Give it up, Mother. You’re through.”

  After a moment, Lydia turned away from him, raising her chin defiantly. “No. Definitely not. This is not over. I will have my grandson back at Belle View where he belongs.”

  Preston’s knuckles turned white where his hands grasped the chair.

  Jess stood slowly, wiping her palms on her thighs. She met Lydia’s basilisk gaze one more time. “Listen to me, old woman. You will never get my son. Never. Even if you manage to get rid of me, Lars will become his guardian. And Lars will be much harder to get rid of, believe me. But even if you send your people after him, he has three brothers, and their wives, and his parents, and the wives’ parents. I’m not alone anymore. I have a family now. Jack has a family now.” Her lips trembled for a moment, then she went on. “You can send down all the high-priced lawyers and hit men you want, but you don’t control things down here. Jack will never be yours. He’s mine.”

  Lydia’s complexion turned a shade that resembled eggplant.

  Jess shook her head. “Sooner or later somebody will decide you belong in jail, or maybe a nice psychiatric ward. Whichever it is, you won’t have access to my son. Not now. Not ever. Do I make myself clear?”

  Lydia took a breath, but Preston beat her to it. “We understand, Ms. Carroll. I mean…” He paused. “Mrs. Moreland.”

  Jess wasn’t sure it was possible for Lydia’s complexion to get more colorful, but just then it seemed to.

  “I’ll make sure no one bothers you. From now on, my mother won’t have access to anything or anyone that could cause harm to you or your son.” His jaw hardened. “In fact, from now on, my mother’s access to almost everybody except her medical personnel is going to be severely curtailed. I don’t want my own family endangered.”

  Lydia let out a long, hissing breath.

  Preston extended a hand toward her. “Get up, Mother. We’re leaving now.”

  Lydia gave Jess one more burning glance, then allowed Preston to help her to her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Weakling,” she snarled.

  Preston sighed. “Come on. The driver’s waiting.”

  Lydia marched
through the door without glancing back. The crisp click of her footsteps echoed down the hall.

  Preston turned back once more to look at Jess. “Mrs. Moreland, I’m sorry. That may not mean much under the circumstances, but you have my sincere apology. I loved my brother, you know. I hope someday you’ll let me meet my nephew.”

  Jess nodded slowly. “Maybe someday.”

  Preston gave her one last half smile, then headed down the hall after his mother.

  Jess felt an overwhelming urge to break into a chorus of “Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead”.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Pete flopped into a leather chair across from the fireplace, narrowing his eyes at Lars. “That was possibly the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Or anyway, the dumbest since that time you tried to float down the Nishnabotna River on a homemade raft. Calling him down here with nothing but that DVD to back you up. Jesus, Lars!”

  Erik shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us you were planning something like this? If Docia hadn’t spilled it to Cal and if he hadn’t called us, we wouldn’t have found out what was going on until it was too late.”

  “You should talk,” Pete snapped. “What the hell were you thinking, with your secret recording? I don’t even want to consider how many ethical guidelines, plus regulations, we’re both breaking at this point.”

  Erik’s expression went blank.

  “If Erik hadn’t made that recording, nothing would have stopped her.” Jess swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  The room was silent for a moment, then Lars shrugged. “Look, I just didn’t want you two to get any more involved than you already were. I didn’t want you in a position where you had to put your jobs at risk for our sake. Besides, if I’d told you, you’d have tried to talk me out of it.”

  “True that,” Pete muttered.

  Erik leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What would you have done if the old lady had called your bluff, bro? What if she’d gone on demanding to see Dahlia? She was ready to do it too. If her son hadn’t decided to reel her in.”

  Lars shrugged. “I was going to say something vague about Dahlia no longer being in Konigsburg because the investigation had been turned over to the FBI.”