The Iron Tiara

Anthony thought long and hard before deciding to go behind Christy’s back to invite the one person who had a right to be there—Abby’s father, Lenny Renquest. When he’d questioned Christy further as to why she’d never told Lenny, Christy explained that she hadn’t wanted to burden him. Even more so after discovering Abby’s life-threatening illness. “I thought more than once about telling him after she was born,” Christy explained. “But after her diagnosis, it didn’t seem right to bring him into a situation that he had no control of and would ultimately result in the worst kind of pain.”

Anthony now waited in the lobby of the company where Lenny worked. He stood when the door opened and Lenny walked out, glancing around curiously as to who might’ve asked to speak to him. His eyes widened in surprise when they landed on Anthony Bear.

Knowing that Lenny might be cautious of him, Anthony walked toward the lanky man and extended his hand in friendship. “I’m here as a friend, and I have a story to tell you. You have a few minutes to take a walk with me?” Anthony asked, nodding toward the double doors that led outside.

It took a few seconds to place him, but Lenny remembered Anthony from the restaurant where he’d run into Christy Chapman. She’d told him and Lucy that Anthony was her husband even though she'd elected to keep her last name. Lenny now seemed to hesitate, but after casting a wary glance at the receptionist, he nodded and followed Anthony out the door. If Christy’s husband was going to do anything to him, at least he had a witness.

They walked to a far corner of the parking lot where Anthony had parked his truck under a shade tree. Anthony leaned his back against the truck and told Lenny the reason for his visit. Lenny never said a word or interrupted as Anthony told him about Christy’s secret pregnancy, the Chapmans’ cover-up and Abigail’s death. He then explained about Christy’s decision to dedicate a park in their daughter’s name. The last statement caught Lenny by surprise.

“Our daughter?” he asked incredulously while shaking his head. “You mean, mine and Christy’s daughter?”

“Yes, I mean yours and Christy’s daughter. Abigail. Christy never told you, so I know this is a shock. Especially coming from me.” He ran his hand down his face. “Look, you don’t need to try and deny it. I know about you and Christy. About the night you met at the drugstore and how her first time was with you in the back of your father’s plumbing van. It’s okay, man, and she should’ve told you. I’m not here to accuse or ask anything of you other than to see if you’ll be there as a show of support for Christy and all the pain she’s endured alone.”

Anthony watched a myriad of emotions flicker over Lenny’s face. The man seemed to be confused.

“I’d be glad to be there as a support for Christy. As a friend,” he stammered. “She was always nice to me and Lucy. But the other part—I honestly don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I never slept with Christy so there is no way that Abigail could’ve been my child.”

Anthony pushed off from the truck and it was his turn to look confused.

“Besides,” Lenny added. “My dad died when I was four and he was a tax attorney, not a plumber.”





Chapter Forty-Eight





Naples, Florida 1982





Anthony stood outside the bathroom and listened to Christy vomiting up her breakfast. It brought back memories of the day he abducted her. Only this time, he was positive he knew the cause, even if she didn’t.

He thought about the day almost four months ago when he went to see Lenny Renquest. He hadn’t been angry with Christy for lying to him about Abigail’s father. He’d been concerned that his original assumption that she was raped by her father, Van, was true. And that she was still carrying a burden so weighted by shame that she couldn’t bear to share it with him.

He’d determined then to do some snooping of his own. Remembering the shoebox that contained pictures of Abby, he decided to see if there was anything else in there that could confirm his suspicions. He’d stood alone in their closet and delicately sifted through more photos, some letters from Litzy and other mementos and keepsakes. When he got to the bottom of the box, he felt his jaw tense in anger. He’d been expecting to find something that would offer a shred of proof of Abby’s biological father. Not tangible evidence of why he still wasn’t one himself.

Unbeknownst to Christy, it was then that he put a plan into action. A plan that would prove whether he was capable of fathering a child. He’d had enough connections in the drug and pharmaceutical industries to pull it off. And standing outside the bathroom door, he now believed that he had.

He rapped lightly on the door. “Are you okay, Owani?” he asked and was surprised when it opened so quickly.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Apparently, breakfast didn’t agree with me.”

“Isn’t this the third day breakfast hasn’t agreed with you?” His dark eyes followed her as she walked to their dresser and bent over a drawer. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

He watched her back stiffen and knew he’d just provided an option she hadn’t considered. She turned around and gave him a big smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It’s dawning on her, he thought. And she’s wondering how it could be possible.

“Maybe,” she told him, and he couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t look happy. She looked worried.

“I’ll see a doctor when we get back from our trip,” she offered. Changing the subject, she asked, “I’m all packed and ready. We can leave as early as you want tomorrow. Do you think Kit will be at this one? She doesn’t like to go to any of them. It would be nice to see her.”

Christy was referring to the organized annual gathering of South Florida bikers. Rival gangs called a once a year truce and agreed to temporarily wave the white flag to meet with each other and nonviolently air their grievances. Even though Anthony didn’t consider his group a formal club, he still had enough of an influence to require his attendance.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I have to call Grizz for something else, so I’ll ask him.”

And Anthony did call Grizz. From the privacy of his office he asked, almost begged Grizz to make sure Kit accompanied him to the meeting. “Christy needs a friend now.” Anthony raked his hand down his face. “I don’t know. There’s something going on with her. Something she’s not telling me. I thought we were good, but now…” His words drifted off. Grizz assured him he’d do his best to convince Kit to be there.

Anthony didn’t tell Grizz that he suspected Christy was pregnant. He wanted to see if Christy would confide in Kit and if so, try to figure out why she wouldn’t tell him. Why didn’t she, after more than two years of trying to conceive, seem happy? Was this all a ruse because she didn’t want to be legally married to him? The thought pierced his heart. What if his trickery would come back to haunt him? What if they were bringing a child into the world that Christy didn’t want?

Anthony stood in his office and looked at the phone he’d just hung up. His pain turned to anger, and without telling Christy where he was going, he headed for the camp. When he got there, he passed Gloria coming out of a bunkhouse. Without acknowledging her, he headed straight for his hatchet that was buried in a stump.

He hurled his ax through the air hitting the target dead on each time. He'd retrieved it after about the tenth throw and was getting ready to hurl it again when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

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