He held her gaze. “Yes, ma’am. I sure do.”
A faint smile curved her lips. She gave his shoulder another pat, then kissed Chloe’s head. “I’m going to join your father upstairs in the media room. He’s had a movie he’s wanted us to watch for the past two months. I think tonight’s the first night we’ve had more than two hours together in a very long time. We’re going to take advantage of that.”
“Enjoy,” Chloe said.
She left and Derek packed a plate to go. “I’m going over to see Elaine.”
Chloe raised a brow. “I thought you two were broken up.”
“We were. Are. Were.”
“Which is it?” Ruthie asked. She set her plate on the table and sat down.
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m going to find out. See you.”
“Right.”
The door shut behind him.
Chloe stared at the door for a good five seconds before she blinked and turned her attention back to Blake. “Want to take a walk?”
“It’s freezing outside,” Izzy said. “Better just find a cozy spot in the den or on the sunporch.”
“Fine. Want to join me in the den?”
Curious, but feeling like a bug under a microscope, Blake closed his laptop and stood. “Sure.”
Once they were out of hearing range of her siblings and seated comfortably on the L-shaped couch, Chloe laid a hand on his arm and left it there. “Do you mind if I ask you a pretty personal question?”
A little shocked at the intimate gesture, he hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “I guess not.”
“What did Rachel mean when she said, ‘I know I’m not really yours’?”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “You caught that, huh?”
“Yes.”
Blake stood, feeling a momentary pang at dislodging her hand. He liked her nearness. He liked the way she smelled, with her vanilla bean and strawberry fragrance that was as much a part of her as the dark curls she kept in a ponytail 99 percent of the time. If he was honest, he pretty much liked everything about her. Except maybe her nosiness sometimes. And her questions that probed at wounds that seemed healed but could be ripped open with one sharp tug.
He paced to the window that overlooked the large backyard. If he could see them, he knew the trees would be bare of leaves and the pool would be covered. “She’s not my biological child.” He turned to look her in the eye. “But she’s mine in every way that counts.”
She blinked. “Of course.”
“When Aimee found out she was pregnant, she went ballistic. She was terrified of what her parents were going to say.”
“Where’s Rachel’s father?”
“He bailed on Aimee as soon as she told him. Told her to get an abortion. He enlisted in the Army and was later killed in Afghanistan.”
“Oh no. Even jerks like a deadbeat dad don’t deserve that.”
“I agree. I knew the guy and he really wasn’t an awful person, just immature and irresponsible. If he’d had the chance to grow up, he might have turned out okay.” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, ironically enough, in spite of the fact that her mother was a physician, Aimee was scared to death of doctors.” And that was the only thing that had saved Rachel from being aborted. “Aimee and I were friends—and I’ll admit to a slight crush on her. So, when she came to me, desperate and scared, I offered to marry her.” He scowled and slid his eyes from Chloe’s. “I was young and stupid and thought I could convince her to love me in time. But she didn’t. When I changed my focus from law and decided to go to the police academy, she was furious. She didn’t want to be married to a cop, she wanted someone with the potential to make a lot of money. So, she found someone else.”
“So, basically, she used you. Used your feelings for her.”
“Pretty much.”
“I’m so sorry, Blake.”
“I am too. And while I didn’t think I’d ever recover from the pain, I have. I was over Aimee before she died. But Rachel, she’s mine as sure as the sun will rise in the morning.” He gave her a sad smile and pressed his fingers against his lips.
“What did your parents think of you getting married so young?”
He stiffened. “My mother was buried at the bottom of a bottle, so I’m not sure she was even aware. And my dad? Well, he didn’t seem happy about it, but since his opinion meant nothing to me at the time, I didn’t care.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize your relationship with your parents was so . . .”
“Awful?”
“Tense.”
He let out a low, humorless laugh. “Awful. Yeah. It was tough growing up, but we survived.”
“How?” she whispered.
“My uncle’s a cop. He was one of the good guys and did his best to make sure he influenced me in a positive way. He also beat my dad within an inch of his life and told him if he ever laid a hand on me or my brother again, he’d arrest him and throw away the key.”
“Whoa.”
“Yep. That was when I was fourteen and Frank was ten. Mom had taken off about a year earlier and Dad wasn’t so careful about where he left the bruises. Uncle Greg figured it out one afternoon and that was that.”
“Did your dad ever hit you after that?”
“Nope. Punched a lot of walls, but not us.”
“Good,” she whispered.
Tears swam in her eyes and he swallowed at the responding lump in his throat. Clearing it away, he shook his head. “There’s just one thing I can’t figure out.”
“What’s that?”
“How Rachel knows I’m not her biological father. I’ve never told her.”
“Did Aimee?”
He shook his head. “I mean, as far as I know she didn’t. She was the one who was so adamant that we keep it between us.” His eyes narrowed. “But someone told her and I plan to find out who. As soon as I get Rachel back.” Getting her back was the priority. His heart ached. She might not have his blood running through her, but he loved her with every fiber of his being and he’d do whatever it took to get her back safe.
He rubbed his cheek and caught Chloe’s gaze. “How do you feel about helping me kill the judge?”
Chloe blinked. “Um . . . what?”
“It’s the only way I’m going to get her back.”
“Blake, you’re scaring me.”
He grimaced. “I don’t mean actually kill him, kill him. But what if we faked it? What if we explained everything to him and asked him to help us out?”
She gave a slow nod. “Maybe.”
“The thing that gets me is that the guy who called was very confident that he would know when the judge was dead. Like he would be informed immediately.”
“Like by someone close to the judge?”
“Exactly.”
“But . . . who? We’ve vetted them all. Every coworker, every person he comes into contact with on a daily basis. Everyone. Including his family.”
He frowned. “I don’t know.”
“And that could backfire too,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“If they believe he’s dead, they won’t have any need for Rachel anymore.”
He hung his head. “I thought of that, but I don’t think they’ll kill her.”
“Why not?”
His eyes met hers. “I think they’ll sell her.”
“Even with her medical issues?”
“I think so. It’s a gamble, I know, but I just don’t see these people passing up tens of thousands of dollars.”
She bit her lip and nodded. He was probably right.
“I think, from what you said Rachel told you in the hospital, that they’re going to be moving fairly quickly.”
“The auction.”
“Yeah. And if that’s the case, if the judge isn’t dead, they’ll hold on to her and continue with their threats.” He swallowed. “Or start sending me pieces of her.”
She winced.
“So,” he said, “I think I have to take a chance on this and act. These people are greedy. They’re not going to kill a beautiful girl who could bring them top dollar in the market—even if she does have diabetes.” His voice roughened as he fought the emotions running through him. Chloe covered his hand and squeezed. He cleared his throat. “I think if we make it seem like the judge is dead, then they may send her with the other girls going to the auction.”
“Speaking of that auction, I think it’s time to go with my first instinct and dig into the fact that it could actually be connected to the museum.”