Sinful Desire

He stopped short when he saw her. Classic deer in the headlights.

“Good morning. Were you looking for someone?” she asked, opting for directness.

“I’m looking for Ryan Sloan. Is he here?”

“You just knocked on his door,” she said, pointing to the house. “It seems he’s not in. But would you like me to pass on a message to him?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll stop by another time.”

He turned toward his car, gripping the handle.

“Wait. I’ve seen you at the community center. Playing basketball,” she said, trying to figure out who he was. “Why are you looking for Ryan?”

“I need to talk to him.” He opened the door and got into his Buick.

“What’s your name?”

But he didn’t give her his name. He yanked the door shut and took off.

Sophie and Johnny Cash waited until his car disappeared around the corner. Her heartbeat slowed down, and she patted the dog on the head, glad she’d had a companion. She had no idea what to make of that young man. Why on earth would he need to talk to Ryan? Then it hit her. He might not be T.J. Nelson or Kenny Nelson, but could he be related to one of those men? A son perhaps?

A chill shimmied through her.

When Ryan returned from Hawthorne, she’d tell him he had an unnamed visitor. For now, he had more important matters on his mind. Once inside his home, she locked the door, then checked again to confirm it was closed, then checked once more. She peered out the living room window, making sure the guy hadn’t circled by again. The street was quiet. She called a cab and headed home.

Today was not the best day to go skinny-dipping.

*

Surprise her.

That was his strategy. It was a tactic he’d relied on in the military from time to time, and his mother needed to be treated like the enemy today with a sneak attack.

She was always most vulnerable when she didn’t expect something. As he turned into the parking lot in Hawthorne, showing his ID at the gate, his stomach churned. He hated manipulating her like this, but he’d spent the drive fortifying himself, talking back to his fears, and kicking them aside.

Today he was on a mission, and his one and only goal was finding the facts.

Once inside the visiting room, after a hug and a hello, he launched into one of her favorite topics. “Did you hear Anthony Geary retired from GH?”

Her green eyes lit up. He hadn’t seen them so bright in months. “I watched his final episode. It was amazing,” she said, smacking her palm on the wooden table in excitement.

Yup, that did it. Like a fisherman casting a rod, he’d dropped the lure in the water. She was the fish taking the bait.

She chattered on about the show, and because Ryan had listened to a soap opera podcast on the five-hour drive, he was up to speed on which long-lost twin had reappeared, who had been kidnapped and sequestered away in a mansion, and who was pregnant with a secret baby.

Soon, she was laughing, and he’d done it—he’d lulled her into a false sense of security. Tension curled through him, but this was the only chance he had to shock her into stumbling into the truth.

“I think Sonny has to be behind the kidnapping,” she said, chatting about the show as he nodded a yes while reaching into his pocket to remove the pattern subtly. Under the table he unfolded it. Then he laid it on the wood surface, jammed his finger against the center of the paper, and interrupted her.

“Who are T.J. and Kenny Nelson, and why are their names hidden in a code inside your prize dog jacket pattern?”

She fumbled her next words as her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “What did you just say?”

“Mom, I know what this is. Don’t lie to me now. Please, God, after all I’ve done for you, don’t lie to me now,” he said, desperation infusing his tone. “Who are they and what role did they play in my father’s death?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to her hands, twisting her fingers together.