Dangerous Relations

At least they agreed on something. “And that’s staying with me.”

She heaved a sigh. “Since we’re being frank, let me lay it out. I own a diner. I live in a small town where neighbors still say ‘hi’ to one another. My living quarters are upstairs from where I work. I can pop in anytime to check on Chloe. I’ll hire a good babysitter—preferably Addy, if she’s willing.”

Yeah, she’d be willing. She was crazy about Chloe. And Chloe was just as attached to her. Regardless of how Addy felt about him, her presence was good for Chloe. So Ryan would make sure she stayed on once he got custody. And he was going to get custody, whatever it took.

Shelby continued, “I’m not wealthy, but I can provide a good, wholesome environment. Besides the love I’ll give her, she’ll have the influences of my aunt’s church and our friends.”

“I can provide the same thing.” He’d even consider church attendance for Chloe’s sake.

Shelby lifted one arched brow. “Your family owns a bunch of gentlemen’s clubs. That’s hardly the environment for a little girl to grow up in.”

He clenched his teeth. The woman was judging him for his father’s activities after she’d had nothing to do with Chloe because she was too busy or too snooty or just plain didn’t care.

When he spoke, ice edged his tone. “I’m not my family.” At least not his father’s side. Instead, he’d been closer to his mother, especially after his parents divorced when he was seven. At age twelve, he’d found a father figure through his best friend. A recently retired military man, Kyle’s dad had adored his wife and made his children the center of his life. Ryan’s ideals had been on an increasingly separate path from his father’s ever since.

A detective holding a small notepad approached from inside the apartment. He glanced at them both, then focused on Ryan. “What is your relationship with Mia Adair?”

“I’m the baby’s uncle. My brother is the father.” At the detective’s request, he provided his contact information.

“How often did you see Mia?”

“Three or four times a week.”

“Where?”

“Here. I’d pick up Chloe and take her to the park and places.” He’d call Mia and let her know he was on the way. She was always fine with it. Except today she hadn’t answered. Since he’d already been in Seattle on another errand, he figured he’d give it a shot.

“Have you and Ms. Adair ever dated?”

“We’ve never been more than friends.” If not for Chloe, she wouldn’t have even been that. She was too shallow to be someone with whom he’d seek out a friendship.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt her?”

“No. I didn’t think she had enemies. She seemed to get along with everybody.”

At the end of the hall, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Addy stepped off and approached. The detective gave her a brief glance, then continued his questions. Once finished, he turned to Shelby.

“What about you? What is your relationship with Ms. Adair?”

“Her sister.”

While he jotted her name, address and phone number in his pad, Ryan smoothed Chloe’s curls, so soft against his palm. She lifted her eyes to his. They were green with gold flecks, just like her mother’s. Like her aunt’s, too.

“Are you aware of anyone who’d have wanted to hurt her?”

Ryan watched Shelby’s gaze shift to him before going back to the detective. Uneasiness brushed the edges of his mind.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“The people who own and manage the club where she worked.”

Ryan’s jaw dropped. “Come on.” The objection slipped out before he could stop it. The woman would resort to anything to get Chloe.

The detective shot him a warning glance. “What club is that?”

“The Satin Cabaret.”

“Why do you believe her employers would want to hurt her?”

“She told me there was something shady going on at the club. She’d seen or heard something. She said if she stumbled on what it was, her life would be in danger.”

“When did she tell you this?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Did she say what she’d seen or heard?”

“No.”

“Could she have been talking about patrons rather than the owners?”

“Possibly, but that wasn’t the impression I got. Since she said something shady was going on at the club, I assume it’s something the owners are involved in. Or know about, anyway.”

He finished his notes, then looked up. “Anything else you can tell me?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Call if you think of anything.” He handed each of them a card with a case number. “Will one of you be taking the child, or shall I call DSHS?”

Shelby jumped in. “I’m taking her.” She looked at Addy. “Will you continue as Chloe’s nanny?”

Addy nodded. “I go wherever Chloe goes.”

“Good.” Shelby returned her attention to the detective. “I’ll file the necessary paperwork to make it legal. Based on what Mia told me, Chloe’s daddy is out of the picture. I’m expecting him to sign away his parental rights.”

Ryan held up a hand. “With all due respect, even though Ms. Adair is Chloe’s aunt, Chloe has seen her only a handful of times. She needs to be with people she knows, people who love her.”

Fire lit Shelby’s eyes. He wasn’t accusing her of not loving Chloe. But based on the glare he was getting, that was how she’d taken it. “His brother manages the club where my sister worked. His father owns it. These are the people my sister was afraid of.”

“According to you.”

Addy frowned. “Mia told me the same thing.”

“That has nothing to do with me.” Ryan struggled to keep his voice level. “I’m almost finished with twenty years in the Navy. I’ve never been involved in my family’s business.”

Shelby spread her arms, palms up. “We don’t even know that Randall McConnell’s name is on Chloe’s birth certificate. According to Mia, they’ve never been in a committed relationship.”

The detective closed his pad. “Until the courts can sort it out, it makes sense for the child to go with the deceased’s sister.”

Ryan sagged against the hallway wall. How was this happening? After he’d spent countless hours bonding with his niece, how could Chloe’s absentee aunt walk in and lay claim to her?

He’d let it go tonight. He’d lost the initial battle, but not the war. Shelby had said she was filing the necessary paperwork. He would, too. He’d fight her every step of the way.

His brother wasn’t going to be any help. The idiot had gotten himself arrested a week ago. It wasn’t the first time. He’d been able to beat the other charges or accept pleas for reduced sentences. Ryan had warned him—one more time and they’d put him under the jail. Randall hadn’t listened. This time he’d sold heroin to an undercover cop. He probably wouldn’t see freedom for the next fifteen years. Or longer.

This weekend, Ryan would visit and tell him about Mia. There wouldn’t be tears. Men didn’t cry, especially McConnell men. At least, that was what he and Randall had been taught from a young age. Over the past twenty years, Ryan had learned his father was wrong. Sometimes men did cry, even McConnell men.

He turned to Shelby. “Can we exchange phone numbers?” He kept the irritation from his tone. Alienating her further wouldn’t do them any good. “I’d like to stay in touch with my niece. I’ll also try to answer any questions you might have.”

After some hesitation, she removed her phone from her purse. “Give me your number.”

As he rattled off the digits, her thumbs flew over her screen. Moments later, his phone buzzed with an incoming text. Time to hand over his niece. He buried his face in her curly copper-colored hair. The faint scent of her shampoo, a combination of strawberries and bananas, wrapped around him. He kissed her again, then tried to untangle her arms from his neck. She tightened her hold.

“Sweetie, you need to go with Aunt Shelby.” The words tasted bitter. Shelby didn’t deserve that title.

Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. “No. Wyan.”

He injected false cheer into his voice. “Uncle Ryan will see you soon.” It was a promise he hoped he could keep.

Chloe began to cry in earnest. As he transferred her into Shelby’s waiting arms, the cries became full-blown wails.

His eyes met Shelby’s. Then he turned and strode toward the elevator. Chloe’s cries followed him, each one shredding his heart.

When he stepped outside, the lingering remnants of daylight had faded to night. He slid into his Equinox and let his head fall back against the seat. In a few minutes, a stranger would walk away with his niece. She’d never be what Chloe needed. When she couldn’t even be bothered to make an occasional visit, how would she make the sacrifices needed to raise an emotionally healthy child?

She wouldn’t.

He heaved a sigh. He should head back to his apartment, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Maybe he wanted to catch one more glimpse of his niece before Shelby took her away. Or if he sat there long enough, maybe he’d somehow make sense of the whole messed-up situation.

Addy walked from the building carrying Chloe. Shelby followed behind. She’d already passed off her parenting responsibility. He wasn’t surprised.

They walked to Addy’s Camaro, where Addy fastened Chloe into her car seat in the back. After a short exchange, Shelby walked toward her own vehicle. Her head was down, her shoulders slumped. Sadness wrapped around her like a cloak.

An unwelcome sense of compassion stirred inside him. He wanted to hate her, to view her as the enemy. But that picture wasn’t right. Because upstairs, in that final moment before he’d turned away, her eyes hadn’t held triumph. They’d held pain.

He reached for his keys, which were hanging in the ignition. Behind him, a vehicle roared down the short road that ran past the apartment complex. Someone was blowing right through the posted 25-mile-per-hour speed limit. As he turned the key, Shelby cast a sudden glance back at Addy. His own engine rumbled to life, blending with the roar of the other one. But there was something else, too—a pop, the sharp crack of a vehicle backfiring.

Or a gunshot.

A short distance away, Shelby dove between two cars. Ryan sprang from his vehicle at the same time Addy slipped into the Camaro and slammed the door behind her.

Now he had no doubt. What he’d heard was a gunshot. Had it come from the vehicle that had just sped past?

He dialed 911, then ran toward Addy’s car. First, he’d see to his niece’s safety. Then he’d check on Shelby. The dispatcher came on as he reached the Camaro. Addy was twisted sideways, her upper body lying over the console. Chloe was watching him from her car seat, apparently oblivious.

He spoke into the phone as he swung open the driver door. “There was a shot fired. A drive-by.” That was his assumption, anyway. Addy straightened, her eyes wide, and he lifted a brow at her. She nodded.

“What kind of vehicle?” He repeated to Addy the question he’d been asked.

“Four-door. Older. I don’t know what kind. It’s too dark.”

Shelby approached and stopped to stand next to him. He didn’t take time to acknowledge her presence.

“Color?”

“Dark. Maybe. It’s hard to tell.”

After he relayed the information to the dispatcher, he looked at Shelby. “Did you see anything?”

She shook her head. “I heard the engine rev, but when Addy screamed that someone had a gun, I dove for cover.”

He confirmed their location, then ended the call. The authorities investigating Mia’s murder were still there. So were the people from the medical examiner’s office. But other units would arrive shortly. In the meantime, everyone in the area would be alerted to be on the lookout for an older four-door...something. He heaved a sigh. They didn’t have much to go on.

Shelby crossed her arms in front of her, then ran her hands up and down her jacket sleeves. The temperature had dropped since the sun went down. A shudder ripped through her. “Why?”

Addy lifted one shoulder, then let it fall. “Whoever killed Mia probably thinks you know something.”

“But I don’t.”

“I know that. But they apparently don’t, because when I saw the arm come out the window, that gun was pointed at you.”

The last of the color drained from her face, and she started to teeter sideways.

Ryan grabbed her arm to steady her. “Whoa, easy.”

She tilted her head back, locking those gold-green eyes on him. The vulnerability he saw there punched him in the gut.

She’d neglected her niece, ignored her sister and fought him for Chloe.

But there was no way he’d leave her at the mercy of a ruthless killer.

TWO

Shelby pulled into a parking space at Safeway and killed the engine. The wiper blades came to a stop, forming two diagonal lines across her windshield. Outside, the usual Seattle-area drizzle fell from gray skies.

She reached for the door handle and drew her jacket’s hood over her head. A folded umbrella lay on the back passenger floorboard. Other than a few times when she’d held it over Aunt Bea’s head while walking her into the doctor’s office, Shelby couldn’t remember when she’d last opened it. Sporting an umbrella was a sure way to look like a tourist. Anyone who’d lived in the Pacific Northwest for long was used to the weeping clouds and had invested in at least one good rain jacket.

Before stepping from the Town Car, she scanned the area. She’d done the same thing driving in but hadn’t seen any threats. She didn’t see any now, either. No one lurking. No older, four-door cars.

She stepped from her vehicle and walked toward the store. She’d closed the diner at three. By the time she and her small staff had everything cleaned and prepped for tomorrow, it had been four. Now she was beat.

Last night had been rough. Every time she’d fallen into a sound sleep, she’d been jolted awake as one shock wave after another rippled through her. Mia was gone. It still didn’t seem possible.

She walked through the automatic glass doors and snagged a shopping cart. She’d made a list at lunchtime. Fortunately, the detectives had allowed Addy and her to go in and gather some belongings before they’d headed back to North Bend.

Chloe’s sleep seemed to have been as fitful as hers. Several times during the night, she’d awoken crying for her mother. Shelby’s heart had twisted with every pathetic plea. One part of her wanted to keep Mia’s memory alive. Another part hoped Chloe would forget quickly. When the memory faded, so would the pain.

Her ringtone sounded from her purse. She brought the cart to a halt and scrambled for her phone, her pulse in overdrive. Once she settled into the role of motherhood, maybe she wouldn’t fear that every call was an emergency, a problem with Chloe.

It wasn’t that she had her doubts about Addy as a caretaker. In fact, Addy hadn’t called once all day. And all four times Shelby had slipped upstairs to check on them, Addy had had everything under control.

Instead of Addy, Ryan McConnell showed up on her phone’s ID. After she’d gotten home last night, she’d pulled up the text she’d sent him and saved his information in her contacts.

She swiped the screen and said a curt hello.

“Hi, Shelby. It’s Ryan.”

He had a nice voice, rich and smooth. She hadn’t noticed last night. At first, she’d been too busy dodging his accusations and trying to keep him from taking her niece. Then she’d been too shaken about almost being shot. She still didn’t know whether it was a random drive-by shooting or if someone was targeting her. If the latter, the shooter hadn’t followed her away from Seattle. Ryan had made sure of that. He’d insisted on escorting them all the way to North Bend.

“How is Chloe?”

“Fine. Addy said she did well today, all things considered. I checked on her several times, too.” She wished she could say Chloe was starting to warm up to her, but she didn’t seem to want anyone except Addy.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m off duty now and would love to stop by and see her, if that’s okay.”

Great. She hoped he wasn’t planning to have daily contact. Adjusting to motherhood was stressful enough without having critical eyes on her.

But after seeing them together yesterday evening, how could she refuse him contact with his niece? His love was almost palpable. Chloe obviously adored him, too.

She sighed. “I just arrived at the grocery store. Give me an hour.”

“I’ll see you in an hour and a half.”

She ended the call and dropped her phone back into her purse. Once she arrived home, she’d work on dinner and let Addy entertain their guest.

Actually, he didn’t need entertainment. He was there to play with his niece. But Shelby would have to invite him to stay for dinner. She couldn’t send a single guy away at mealtime without feeding him.

She assumed he was single, anyway. But she hadn’t looked for a wedding ring. Frankly, it didn’t matter. Maybe he was a nice guy under normal circumstances. She just hadn’t gotten to experience the relaxed, cordial side of him.

Whatever happened between them, they’d eventually have to settle into some kind of a mutual understanding. Like an annoying ex forever in her life because of a child between them, Ryan McConnell wasn’t going away.

Thirty minutes later, she hurried to her Town Car and loaded her groceries into the trunk. The silver Lincoln didn’t exactly say “single young lady,” but it had originally belonged to Aunt Bea. Although almost a decade old, it was in pristine condition. When her aunt had become too sick to drive, it had made more sense for Shelby to sell her high-mileage Corolla and keep the little-used Town Car.

Before reaching the building that housed the diner on North Bend Way, Shelby took a left, then turned into the alley that ran along the back. Addy’s Camaro was parked in one of the angled spaces opposite the stairs leading to the diner. Shelby pulled in next to her.

As she climbed from the car, a sense of uneasiness swept through her. She’d never given the seclusion a second thought. Now, hemmed in by the building on one side and railroad tracks and woods on the other, she felt suddenly vulnerable.

After retrieving her groceries from the trunk, she made her way up the wooden stairs, two plastic bags looped over each arm. When the diner was open, she used the interior stairwell off one side of the kitchen. After hours, the exterior entrance was more convenient.

She stepped under the awning covering the top landing and inserted her key. When she swung open the door, an older couple sat on the couch, Chloe in the woman’s lap. Addy occupied the love seat. All eyes went to Shelby, and conversation ceased. Whoever Addy’s guests were, they’d apparently parked in front or around the side of the building.

The woman spoke first. “You must be Mia’s sister.”

Shelby pushed the door shut with one hip. “I am. If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll be right with you.”

After plopping the bags on the kitchen counter, she fished through them and pulled out the perishables. Ice cream was her one guilty pleasure, and she wasn’t going to leave it melting on the counter.

When she’d finished with the cold items, she stopped at the hall tree next to the door and shed her coat, claiming the last of the four curved wooden hooks. Then she sat next to Addy and waited for someone to begin.

The woman wrapped one of Chloe’s hands in hers. “We’re Robert and Dorothy McConnell, Chloe’s grandparents.”

Shelby nodded. She’d expected as much. They both had that aura about them, the air that said their world spun on a different axis and only intersected with those of the common people when necessary. Robert McConnell’s suit obviously didn’t come from a discount store. Neither did his leather loafers. His wife was classic elegance in a charcoal pencil skirt and long-sleeved silk blouse. A Louis Vuitton handbag sat next to her.

Mrs. McConnell’s chin lifted, amplifying that air of superiority. “Chloe has spent a lot of time at our estate. She’s bonded with us. She has her own suite, a nanny, a complete wardrobe and every toy imaginable. She’ll go to the best private schools and have everything she could want or need. You could still come for visits when you can find the time.”

Shelby curled her fingers into her palms as fire flared inside. When you can find the time. They were looking down their proud noses at her, the same way Ryan had. In fact, Ryan had probably sent them to try to coerce her into giving his family, and ultimately him, custody.

It wouldn’t work.

“I’m going to raise Chloe. I spoke with a lawyer this morning who is preparing the paperwork.”

Mr. McConnell released a humorless laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. What does a single woman with a diner to run want with raising someone else’s child?”

“That child is my niece.”

Mrs. McConnell pulled Chloe against her. “And she’s our grandchild.”

“Why would you want to be tied down with a little one at your ages?” Shelby had no idea what those ages might be. Ryan’s dad had a little bit of middle-age spread but was still in decent shape. Based on the fine wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and the amount of gray in his hair, she would put him in his early-to-mid sixties.

His mom’s age was anybody’s guess. Smooth skin stretched taut over high cheekbones. Every trace of frown lines and crow’s-feet had been erased, likely before they’d had a chance to fully form. She’d had work done, probably more than once.

The woman straightened her spine, and her eyes flashed with indignation. “Because we love her and want what’s best for her.”

“What’s best for children doesn’t always involve money.” She’d already had this conversation with Ryan. Since he’d likely relayed every detail, there was no need to rehash it.

Mr. McConnell pushed himself to his feet. Now standing, he towered over her. “You’re going to regret this.”

His words had a hard edge. His gaze held the same haughtiness his wife’s had. But there was something else, something cold and cruel. A chill passed through her.

She straightened her shoulders and stood. If she was going to let Ryan or his father intimidate her, she should just hand over Chloe now. “Are you threatening me?”

He stepped closer, and she willed her feet to remain planted. He had her five-foot-seven height beat by a good six inches. But it wasn’t his size that made her long to retreat. His presence filled the room, and power radiated from him, brutal and deadly.

His eyes narrowed. “Just giving sound advice. Don’t engage in battles you can’t win.”

“I’m Chloe’s aunt. Your son’s name isn’t even on the birth certificate.” She hadn’t seen it, but she’d discussed it with Addy last night. Apparently, it was tucked into the folder of important papers in the bottom of Mia’s two-drawer file cabinet.

“Doesn’t matter.” Confidence underlined the words. “A simple paternity test will show that she’s our granddaughter.”

“I don’t need a paternity test to prove she’s my niece.”

“You don’t. But I doubt you have deep enough pockets to go up against one of the most powerful families in Seattle. You’ll have every bit of the equity in this little diner encumbered before you get to first base.”

“We’ll see.”

His gaze shifted to his wife. “Come on, Dorothy, let’s go.”

As she handed Chloe to Addy, Mrs. McConnell pressed her lips together, her jaw tight. Was it determination? Or did she disapprove of her husband’s strong-arm tactics?

Ryan’s father dragged her to her feet, then stalked toward the door, pulling her with him. His gait held more purpose than anger. After grabbing their coats and ushering his wife through the open door, he cast Shelby a final glance. “You’re willing to risk your diner. What about your life?”

Moments later, the door shut with a solid thud. Shelby rushed forward to throw the dead bolt, then stood with both hands on the wall, calming her churning thoughts.

“You did the right thing.”