Beverly Barton - The Mother

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

AVON

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London SE1 9GF

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First published in the U.S.A by Kensington Publishing Corp as Don’t Cry New York, NY, 2010

DON’T CRY. Copyright © Beverly Barton 2010. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

HarperCollins Publishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication

Beverly Barton asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Source ISBN: 9781847562487

Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007452460

Version: 2021-01-14

To Billy, for a million and one reasons, but most of all

because he loves me

&

In memory of Pelham, Alabama,

Police Officer Philip Davis,

who lost his life in the line of duty, December 4, 2009

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

The Humpty-Dumpty night-light cast a soft, honey-white glow over the…

Chapter 1

J.D. Cass listened to his breakfast date’s end of the…

Chapter 2

Charlie Scott kept his arm clutched tightly around his wife’s…

Chapter 3

For most of her life—certainly after the car wreck that…

Chapter 4

Audrey had spent a restless night, tossing and turning, waking…

Chapter 5

After Audrey’s arrival at his home that morning, Mayor Don…

Chapter 6

Audrey disagreed with Garth. And not for the first time.

Chapter 7

Wayne Sherrod couldn’t get away from headquarters fast enough. He…

Chapter 8

After they had made love, while he held her close,…

Chapter 9

Audrey balanced her briefcase in one hand and a mocha…

Chapter 10

After her uncle’s phone call that morning, Audrey had asked…

Chapter 11

The hot, humid summer breeze did little to cool the…

Chapter 12

Jeremy caught a glimpse of the dark-haired waitress at the…

Chapter 13

Wayne Sherrod hadn’t seen or talked to Steve Kelly in…

Chapter 14

J.D. left the Chattanooga Funeral Home’s East Chapel with the…

Chapter 15

Audrey had waited until she and Zoe had arrived at…

Chapter 16

Tam had left Marcus sleeping when she crept out of…

Chapter 17

All J.D. wanted to do was pick up his daughter…

Chapter 18

J.D. had immersed himself in work, leaving the situation with…

Chapter 19

“Was that Porter Bryant you were talking to?” Hart asked…

Chapter 20

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Grace Douglas…

Chapter 21

J.D. dropped Zoe off at Audrey’s town house Saturday night…

Chapter 22

Eileen Campbell came straight from morning church services to her…

Chapter 23

J.D hadn’t slept worth a damn. And it was more…

Chapter 24

Hart had used the interview with TBI Special Agent Cass…

Chapter 25

J.D. had kept tabs on Jeremy Arden and Hart Roberts…

Chapter 26

Somer Ellis enjoyed her part-time job as a salesclerk at…

Chapter 27

Tam had known Garth Hudson most of her life. She…

Chapter 28

“Is he gone?” Zoe asked as she walked up beside…

Chapter 29

Somer Ellis’s head hurt. Maybe she should get up and…

Chapter 30

The sketch artist had drawn a picture of the person…

Chapter 31

Jeremy had needed a fix last night. Had needed one…

Chapter 32

Hart pumped into the woman lying beneath him, his thrusts…

Chapter 33

Driving like the proverbial bat out of hell, J.D. arrived…

Chapter 34

Somer heard his footsteps.

Chapter 35

Within an hour after Porter Bryant’s arrest, the small, dilapidated…

Chapter 36

A week later the test results came back from the…

Chapter 37

What could have been an awkward moment after they made…

Chapter 38

Hart had been awake all night. Thinking. Praying. He needed…

Chapter 39

Garth unlocked the front door and walked into the living…

Chapter 40

Tam came and took Audrey home from the hospital that…

Dear Reader

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books by Beverly Barton

About the Publisher

Thirty years ago

The Humpty-Dumpty night-light cast a soft, honey-white glow over the nursery, from the 5' x 7' Mother Goose rug on the wooden floor to the fluffy clouds painted on the ceiling. A large Raggedy Andy doll, with a mop of red hair and a perpetual smile, sat atop a brightly decorated toy box in the corner. Billowy blue and white gingham curtains covered the double windows that overlooked the backyard, and a matching gingham quilt, neatly folded, lay at the foot of the baby bed in the center of the small room.

Humming quietly, Regina Bennett sat in the white spindle rocking chair, her precious little Cody asleep in her arms. Even in sleep, he still clutched his favorite toy, a little yellow teddy bear. Earlier that evening, he had been terribly fussy, crying incessantly, the sound of his pitiful gulping sobs breaking her heart. But after she had given him his medication, he had gradually quieted and gone to sleep.

But for how long? An hour? Two hours? The medication’s effects seemed to wear off more quickly with each passing day. Eventually, the medication wouldn’t ease his pain.

She brushed aside his damp blond curls, leaned down, and kissed his warm forehead. Before the chemotherapy treatments, his hair had been thick and shiny, but the new growth was thin and dull. “You won’t suffer anymore, my precious darling. Mommy promises.”

Rocking back and forth, she cuddled Cody protectively against her breast. Still humming “Hush Little Baby,” an old Southern lullaby, Regina slid her hand down to the side of the rocker and grasped the small pillow she had placed there earlier that evening.

“Mommy loves her little boy. Mommy’s going to do what’s best for you.”

Regina lifted the pillow off the floor.

Rocking.

Humming.

Smiling sadly.

Tears misting her eyes.

Singing softly.

“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry.”

Regina laid the handmade pillow over her son’s nose and mouth. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes and cascaded down either side of her face. She pressed her hand in the center of the pillow and held it in place until she was certain Cody was at peace. She lifted the pillow, tossed it aside, and looked at her tiny two-year-old son.