Kerry Connor: A Stranger's Baby

“What?”

“If whoever was in the car was one of the same people who broke in to my house, why would he park right across the street, for everyone to see after going to all the trouble of coming through the backyard the first time?”

“Could be they were just checking to make sure the coast was clear. As soon as they were sure the police were gone, they’d go around back and try again.”

“Maybe,” she said, unable to keep the doubt from her voice. It still felt as if something wasn’t adding up. “How many people were in the car?”

“It was dark. I could only see the driver.”

“There were three people in my house. I’m sure of it.”

“The big question is how they got inside in the first place.”

“I don’t know. The police said the locks hadn’t been tampered with, and I know I locked the back door.”

“I noticed you don’t have a security system.”

“It never seemed necessary. This is supposed to be a safe community. It’s one reason I moved here. I’m sure you don’t have one, either.” He signaled his agreement with a terse jerk of his head. “Logically, the only way they could have gotten in was with a key. But I’ve never given one to anybody.”

“Do you have one hidden somewhere around the house in case you get locked out?”

“No.”

“Maybe they stole yours somehow and made a copy without your knowledge.”

Sara suppressed a shudder. He’d reached the same conclusion she had. “That would mean they put some forethought into this, actually planned it for some time before going through with it. But who would do that? And why?”

“You really don’t know why anyone would attack you?”

She gave her head a vigorous shake. “No.”

He nodded at her belly. “What about the father?”

“He’s not in the picture.”

Something in her tone must have grabbed his suspicions, because his gaze sharpened. “How ‘not in the picture’ is he?”

“Completely. He doesn’t even know about the baby.”

“Because you didn’t tell him?” She nodded. “What if he found out on his own? He might not have been too happy to find out you kept it a secret.”

“No, it’s not like that—” Sara swallowed a sigh. She’d known it would likely come to this, but had still held out some small hope that she could avoid the question. And the answer. She’d almost been relieved when the police hadn’t bothered asking. Their lack of belief in her intruders had had that benefit at least.

For eight and a half months she hadn’t told a single person. She’d deftly avoided her doctor’s questions, and there hadn’t been anyone else to tell. That was one good thing about her solitary existence. It made it easier to avoid embarrassing questions.

That seemed less likely to be the case if she managed to convince the police to believe her. Like Jake, they would probably want to know more about the circumstances that led to her present state. If she did have to tell, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a practice run at it with someone who didn’t really care either way.

She took a breath. “I don’t know who he is.”

To his credit, Jake didn’t even blink. He simply gave a solemn nod in response. “Well, if you give the cops the names of the potential fathers, they can probably track them down and see where they might have been tonight.”

Another, deeper, breath. “That’s not what I meant. I know when and with whom I got pregnant. I just don’t know his name. It was a one-time thing.”

“And you didn’t get his name.”

It was probably her imagination, but she thought she heard the first trace of judgment in his tone. She stared him straight in the eye and tried to fight the heat she felt rising in her cheeks. “He said his name was Mark.”

“No last name?”

“I assume he has one. He just didn’t share it with me.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him your full name?”

“No, just my first.”

“Does he know where you live?”

“I didn’t tell him, no.”

“Still, it’s not a big town. If he saw you on the street or something…”

“It happened in the city.”

“So there’s no reason to believe he has any idea where to find you, or that you’re pregnant.”

“That’s right. Like I said, he’s not involved.”

“And there’s nobody else you can think of who might have reason to break into your house and attack you?”

“No.”

Clearly stumped, he shook his head. “Then I don’t know. Hopefully the police can figure it out.” He pushed away from the door frame. “I should let you rest.”

“And I’m sure I’ve kept you up longer than you intended.”

He nodded shortly, which she took to be a sign of agreement. “Feel free to use the TV. Yell if you need anything. I’ll leave the door open in case you do.”

“Okay.”

With another tight nod, he turned away and stalked toward the hallway. Not for the first time, she noticed the slight hitch in his step, the way he slightly favored his left leg over the right. She’d wondered about its cause, but wasn’t about to ask. It really wasn’t any of her business.

She watched his broad back receding. He was almost out of sight when she felt the outburst pressing against her throat. She couldn’t hold it back.

“Jake?”

It was the first time she’d said his name, and she immediately realized they hadn’t established if they were on a first-name basis. For his part, he hadn’t called her anything besides the “lady” he’d used when he’d entered her house. Another way of maintaining some semblance of distance between them, she supposed. She wondered if he’d take offense at her familiarity.

He stopped, his shoulders tensing. He didn’t look back.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick, “for—”

“Don’t mention it.”

The words were tossed over his shoulder without a glance back. As soon as they were out, he started moving again, not waiting for a response. Seconds later he disappeared into the bedroom. As he’d said, he left the door open. She waited for a light to come on. It didn’t. He must have decided not to bother.

She settled back in the chair, trying not to take his reaction for the rejection it was. He was simply reminding her of a truth she’d be better off remembering. He wasn’t her friend. He was barely an acquaintance. Her neighbor, nothing more.

For tonight, though, it was enough. And she had more important things to worry about in the morning.

The reminder brought back everything that had happened that night. He’d left all the lights in the living room on for her. She should have felt safe. But the room opened onto the kitchen, and when she glanced to her right, she had a clear view of both the windows over the sink and in the back door. And once she saw them, she couldn’t look away.

The windows gaped with darkness. There was no light on outside the back door. The backyard was out there, and beyond it, the trees. Where he’d found footprints.

Anyone could be out there.

Anyone might be.

Eyes wide, Sara swallowed the hard lump that formed in her throat. Rubbing a hand over her belly, she stared at the windows, into the darkness, and desperately wished for morning to come.

Sara didn’t know how she managed to get any sleep during the endless night. She only knew that she had, when she found herself prodded awake by a familiar urge.

Sunlight filtered in through the windows she’d stared at for so long. It was morning. Slowly hoisting herself from the chair, she moved toward the hallway, already having located the bathroom during an earlier trip in the middle of the night.