Protecting Her Child. Debby Giusti
photo.
Pete threw some bills on the table and raced from the diner.
The woman turned the corner and crossed the street. A clunker sat parked at the end of the block.
Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder. Spying him, she tossed her cane aside and ran toward the car. Her hat flew off, and dark hair spilled across her shoulders, swinging back and forth.
She had an awkward gait and kept her hands close to her body. Was she holding something?
He was gaining on her.
“Meredith, wait,” Pete called. “I need to talk to you.”
She flicked another glance at him. Fear flashed across her face.
Not what he wanted.
At that moment, a police cruiser turned onto the block.
Meredith stopped abruptly. She turned and caught Pete’s eye, her own wide with panic.
He slowed his pace. Meredith paused long enough for the black-and-white sedan to pass before she took off running again.
Silhouetted for that brief moment against the backdrop of the brick building behind her, Pete realized something he hadn’t noticed before.
Meredith Lassiter was pregnant.
THREE
After everything that had happened, Meredith’s internal radar was set on high. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure that no one new had entered the bank before she counted the money and stepped away from the teller. A month’s wages for teaching classes at the quilt shop wouldn’t take her far, but at least she had some cash.
Had they found her because she’d used her credit card? She’d tried to be careful, but the prenatal vitamins and the fresh fruits and vegetables she ate to protect her baby’s health cost more than red beans and rice. Last week, she’d been forced to charge her groceries. The steel-gray pickup had appeared on her street a few days later.
Coincidence? Maybe, but she wouldn’t risk charging anything again. At least until she ran out of money.
What about the guy who had chased after her today? Too many unfamiliar people were appearing in her life. Life-threatening complications that sent her nerve endings into alert mode.
Her immediate need was to get as far from Refuge Bay as possible. Find a safe place to hole up, then a job and an obstetrician.
Thankfully, she’d escaped from the bungalow in time. The last two days spent living out of her car made her overdue for a hot shower and a good meal.
She shoved the bills into her purse, her thoughts once again on the guy she’d seen earlier.
An all-American type with his dark polo shirt, khaki slacks and short hair. Maybe a reporter? She hadn’t spilled anything to the police, and she certainly wouldn’t divulge information to a stringer looking for a story. Not that she had much to tell.
Peering through the bank’s thick glass doors, she glanced up and down the street, searching for a pickup with an extended cab and tinted windows.
Two minivans drove by. Soccer moms with their brood of kids. Nothing to fear.
Meredith swallowed the wad of anxiety that seemed perpetually lodged in her throat, pushed open the door and stepped into the humid outdoors. The briny smell of the sea hung in the early spring air.
Regret filtered past her with the breeze. She’d miss the ocean when she left Refuge Bay, but she wouldn’t miss the nervous apprehension that continually bubbled up, causing her chest to burn and her head to pound.
Just as long as the stress didn’t affect the baby. Bless this child, dear Lord. Let nothing harm the precious gift You’ve given me.
Purse draped over her shoulder, she rubbed her hand protectively over her belly as she rounded the corner and nearly collided headlong into the guy who had chased her earlier.
She did a hasty about-face, ready to run back to the bank.
He grabbed her arm. Twisting, she tried to break free.
“Ma’am, please. I won’t hurt you. I work in an Atlanta medical lab. My name’s Pete Worth.”
She glanced down at the fingers wrapped around her arm.
He relaxed his grasp and dropped his hand. “Please, don’t run away.”
Raising her gaze, she noted concern in his dark brown eyes.
“What do you want?” she demanded, keeping her shoulders back, her chin jutting forward. No need to cut him any slack.
He drew a business card from his pocket. “Information about a woman named Dixie Collins.”
She took a step back. Collins? “I…I don’t know anyone named Dixie.”
The lab guy crooked a brow and leaned in closer. He raised a finger to her eye. “You’ve got a little brown dot in your iris.”
The mark she’d had since birth. Her adoptive father called it the devil’s curse. Not what a child needed to hear.
“Look, I don’t have time for this,” she said with a huff.
He held up his hand. “Sam Collins and his wife Hazel adopted a baby twenty-four years ago.”
Meredith’s world shifted. Vertigo or lack of food, but for half a second, everything swirled around her.
“The infant was born on November sixteenth.” He stepped closer. “The Collins family lived in Augusta, Georgia, at the time. Now a woman named Dixie claims she’s the adopted daughter.”
Questions flew through her mind, not that she’d give them voice.
“I’m helping Eve Townsend, the birth mother, find her rightful heir.” He stared at her, waiting for a reply.
Meredith swallowed, trying to form a response. “Seems…seems to me someone who gave her child up for adoption wouldn’t want to revisit the past,” she managed to stammer.
“Unless the woman’s dying.”
His words hit Meredith hard. “Dying?”
Pete looked past her down the street. “Is there someplace we can talk? A coffee shop? Or the diner? I’ll buy you lunch.”
She shook her head. Much as she wanted to believe the man with the even gaze and the calming voice, she’d learned things weren’t always as they seemed.
She took the offered card. “I need to go.”
Frustration washed over his face. “Eve has the same mark on the iris of her eye, which you evidently inherited from your biological mother. She also has a fatal genetic condition that could have been passed on as well.” He glanced at Meredith’s belly. “You need to be tested, for your baby’s sake.”
She shook her head, not ready to absorb what he was saying. Every action and reaction she’d had in the last seven months had been to protect her child.
Now a stranger she didn’t know tells her about a woman to whom she may be related, and a disease that could adversely affect the precious life growing within her.
Her husband had been murdered. The men who’d killed him were after her, and this guy wanted to compound the situation?
For all she knew, he could be working with the thugs. Right now, she couldn’t trust her instincts, and the last thing she needed was another problem to weigh her down.
Meredith took another step back.
“Wait. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he insisted.
She turned, needing space and time to process everything he’d just thrown her way.
“I’m staying at the Lodge. Think it over and we can meet later.”