Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Ruby

After Miguel leaves to do his sleuthing, I stand at the balcony doors for the longest time and stare at Lake Michigan. I haven’t been this close to the lake in years. As the sun crosses the evening sky, I watch how the light reflects off the water’s surface. I envy the people playing on the beach, the kids splashing in the surf, the adults swimming out toward the buoys. I keep thinking back to what Miguel said about us walking down to the beach.

I’d love nothing more.

But I can’t do it. It’s too much to even contemplate.

But I do know this—if there was anyone who made me feel safe enough to try, it would be Miguel.

I head to my art studio and take a good look around. Everything’s right where it should be. I marvel at the movers’ attention to detail. As I take my seat at the worktable, Pumpkin curls up in the little cat bed at my feet. All my supplies are within reach, and I pick up right where I left off on my newest commission—an older gray tabby cat with a white patch on his chest.

I’ve been working for about an hour when my phone rings. I check the screen, then immediately accept the call. “Miguel, hi!”

“Hi, Ruby.” He sighs. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be tied up for a while this evening. Can I have Layla come hang out with you until I get home?”

“It’s okay. I’m fine. Honestly. I’m working on a painting, and Pumpkin is keeping me company. The movers did a phenomenal job with my art supplies.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Is everything all right?” There’s something odd about his voice. He sounds uncharacteristically subdued.

“Everything’s fine. I’m making progress. I’ll tell you everything when I get home.”

Home. I like the sound of that. “Okay. Well, be careful. With everything that’s happened, who knows what could come next.”

“I will. Hey, Ruby, do me a favor, please?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Don’t let anyone into the apartment while I’m gone, okay? No one. Especially not your dad.”

“My dad? He doesn’t even know where I am.”

“I know, but please don’t talk to him or see him unless I’m with you. Please promise me. It’s important.”

“All right. I promise.”

“I’ll be home as soon as I can. If you need me, just call, okay?”

“All right.”

After we end the call, I sit at my worktable and stare out the window at the skyline in the distance. Miguel didn’t sound like himself, not at all. I know there’s something he’s not telling me.

Pumpkin jumps up in my lap and rubs against me. “Be careful, buddy. No cat hair in the painting.”

I push my chair back from the table and cradle Pumpkin for a little one-on-one quality time. “How do you like our new place? Well, our temporary place anyway.”

He chirps contentedly.

“You saved my life, you sweet boy.” I kiss the top of his head. I don’t want to think about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t knocked over my coffee when he did. I’d probably be dead. I shudder at the thought.

I’m feeling a bit restless since Miguel’s call, and I’m finding it difficult to concentrate on my work. So, I carry Pumpkin to the living room, and we curl up on the sofa and turn on the TV. I need something to distract me while I’m waiting for Miguel to come back.

Exhaustion creeps up on me, and I end up stretching out on the sofa. Pumpkin curls up in front of me.

The sound of the deadbolt turning wakes me from a fitful sleep. I sit upright, my heart pounding. It takes me a second to orient myself. The room is dark, and the TV is on.

The door opens, and Miguel walks in. “Hey, I’m sorry I’m so late,” he says quietly. “I got back as soon as I could. There was a lot going on.”

“What’s wrong?”

He joins me on the sofa, and Pumpkin climbs into his lap, purring. Miguel looks pensive. He sighs heavily. “I don’t even know where to start, Ruby.”

“What did you find out?”

“More than I bargained for.”

I shift to face him. “What?” I can see the hesitation on his face. “What aren’t you telling me, Miguel?”

He looks truly pained, as if he knows what he’s about to say is going to hurt me.

“Just start at the beginning. Did you find out who put the drug in my coffee?”

He nods. “Yes. It was Darren,” he says with absolute certainty.

I feel gut punched. “What? No!”

“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t think he was behind the stalking, but he is.”

I sink back against the sofa cushions. “I can’t believe it.”

Miguel scrubs his hands over his face. “That’s just the beginning.”

“What else?” I see so much reluctance in his eyes. Whatever it is he knows, it’s bad. My pulse starts racing. “Just tell me, Miguel.”

He shakes his head in dismay. “Honey, I don’t want to do this to you.”

“Do what?” Now he’s scaring me. “Just say it.”

He takes my hands in his and squeezes lightly. “It’s hard to know where to start. It took me so long to get back here because I had to wait for Detective Cartwright to arrive at Darren’s apartment. Darren made a full confession.”

“What did he say?”

“That he put the GHB in your coffee. But in his defense, he swears he didn’t know it was enough to do real harm.” Miguel pauses, absently rubbing the back of my hands with his thumb. “Someone gave him the GHB and instructed him to put it in your coffee.”

“Who?”

Miguel just stares at me, clearly not wanting to say more.

“Who, Miguel? You can tell me.”

“Allen.”

I can feel the blood drain from my face. My stomach tightens into a knot, and I feel sick. “My dad? That’s impossible.”

“Darren was arrested tonight. So was Allen. They were both charged with attempted murder. They’re in police custody.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “My dad? No—that can’t be.” Tears spring into my eyes. “We had our differences, yes, but I can’t believe he would want to hurt me.”

Miguel tightens his hold on my hands. “Ruby, Allen’s not your father. Not biologically, anyway.”

I pull free from Miguel’s grasp and shoot to my feet. I start pacing, all the while shaking my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he’s my father.”

Miguel stands. “I’m so sorry, honey. I hated having to tell you.”

I stop pacing and face him. “I don’t understand any of this.” Then the obvious question pops into my head. “If my father isn’t my biological father, then who is? Am I adopted?”

Miguel shakes his head. “No. You’re not adopted. Helen was your biological mother.”

“Then who—”

“I think Edward McCall is your biological father.”

The room starts spinning then, and I feel light-headed. When I take a step, the floor falls out from under me. Miguel catches me before I hit the ground and sits me down on the sofa. He sits beside me and brushes my hair back from my face. It’s not until he starts wiping my cheeks that I realize I’m crying.

“Do you remember telling me about the time your parents split up for a few weeks?” he asks.

I nod.

“During that time, your mom stayed with Edward, right? It’s possible they hooked up. Shortly after your mom reconciled with Allen, she discovered she was pregnant. She told Allen the baby was his. It wasn’t until after your mom died that he ordered a paternity test. He had suspected all along that he wasn’t your biological father. The paternity test proved it.”

“Does Edward know?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

The implications hit me all at once. “This explains so much. This is why my dad’s—Allen’s—manner toward me changed so drastically after my mom died. That must be when he found out.”

Miguel nods.

“But why didn’t he tell me?”

Miguel winces. “Because you’re about to inherit a trust fund worth half a billion dollars.”

“My dad—Allen—wants my money?”

“I’m afraid so. There’s more to it—Allen’s been embezzling money from his investment clients for years, and his scheme is about to collapse. He’s broke. He needed access to your money to repay his clients before they discover the money is missing.”

“And he was willing to kill me to get it?”

“If you died, he’d inherit your assets as your next of kin.”

“But how does Darren come into this?”

“Darren works for Allen. Allen told him to move into your apartment building and befriend you—to keep an eye on you, at first, and report back to him. The initial plan was for Darren to court you and eventually marry you, thereby gaining access to your inheritance. When that failed, Allen switched to Plan B, which was the stalking. Allen thought if they could scare you badly enough, you’d agree to move back home with him. When Edward hired me to discover who was stalking you, Allen decided his only option was to end your life and thereby inherit the money himself as your next of kin.”

I’m numb. Miguel’s speaking, but the words no longer make any sense to me. My mind is spinning, my thoughts roiling. I stand. “This is all too much. I’m going to bed.”

As I head to the bathroom, Miguel follows me. I close the door behind me, lock it, and turn on the faucet to splash cold water on my face. When I straighten and stare at my bedraggled reflection, I no longer recognize who I am.

I’m not Ruby Foster.

I’m not who I thought I was.

Now I know why my father seems to hate me. I’m the result of an affair. As I stare at myself in the mirror, I look for any resemblance between me and Edward, but I really don’t see it. Other than having blue eyes, we really don’t share any features. I look like my mother—red hair and blue eyes. I have her pale complexion and slender nose. I have her freckles. Her hairline. Her lips. I look so much like my mom that I can’t see any resemblance to anyone else.

The bathroom door creaks, giving away the fact that Miguel is leaning against it. Even now, he’s protecting me. When fresh tears burn my eyes, I turn on the shower and step into the tub fully dressed. I turn my face into the warm spray and let the water wash away my tears.

I don’t want anyone to see me cry.

Not over my father—Allen.

Not over the fact that my life has been a lie.

“Ruby?” Miguel’s voice is muffled by the door. He knocks quietly. “Honey, are you okay?”

But I can’t answer him. The tears continue to fall, and I can’t stop shaking, sobbing.

I hear the door knob jiggle, and then the door opens. I smile. He picked the lock.

“Ruby? Are you okay?”

I sigh. “I’m fine.”

Miguel peeks around the shower curtain and peers in at me. If he’s surprised to see me fully dressed, he doesn’t show it. “I was worried about you.”

I nod as rivulets of water stream down my face. My soaked clothes hang heavily on my body, weighing me down.

Miguel kicks off his shoes and removes his socks. He digs his wallet out of his back pocket and tosses it onto the counter. Then he steps into the shower with me, fully dressed. He pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. “It’s okay,” he murmurs into my wet hair. “I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

“Edward’s probably my father.” Then the sobs increase in intensity. “He’s always been there for me, and he doesn’t even know I’m his daughter. Do you think he loved my mother?”

“Probably.”

“He must have been heartbroken when she died.”

Miguel kisses my forehead. “I imagine he was.”

“Do I ask him if it’s possible?”

“I think you need a good night’s sleep before you start making decisions about the future.” Miguel reaches around me to shut off the water. Then he grabs a towel from the rack and wraps it around me. “Let’s get you into bed, okay?”

I realize I’m standing here in my wet clothes. “Would you mind getting me a nightgown?”

“Of course not.” He steps out of the tub and quickly strips out of his wet T-shirt and jeans, until he’s left in only his boxer-briefs. He grabs a towel from the linen cupboard and quickly dries himself. “I’ll be right back.”

While he’s gone, I strip out of my wet clothes and rewrap my body in the bath towel. I step out of the tub and wrap my hair in a towel.

Miguel returns with a pale blue floral nightgown. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He slips the nightgown over my turbaned head, and as he tugs the nightgown down my body, I let the towel fall to the floor.

While I brush my teeth, Miguel opens the vanity drawer and pulls out my comb, which he hands to me. I spit and rinse, then wipe my mouth on a tissue. Once that’s all done, I remove the towel from my head and start combing my hair.

“Here, let me,” he says, holding out his hand.

I give him my comb and stand in front of the mirror as he carefully untangles my hair. As he works on the long strands, I feel my pulse slowing to a more normal rate. I glance around the bathroom, which seems so familiar with all my things here, and yet it’s different. It’s a far nicer bathroom than the one in my apartment. The materials and the finishes are new and upscale, unlike the pink wall tiles in my apartment that date back to the forties. This apartment is both familiar and new.

Miguel’s reflection in the mirror makes me smile. He’s concentrating so hard on my hair—on not hurting me.

When he finishes, he lays the comb on the vanity. “All done.” He gathers the damp strands of my hair together, off my shoulders, and lays his hands on my shoulders, squeezing lightly. “You should get some sleep now. There’s a lot we have to do tomorrow. Detective Cartwright will need to speak to you, and then you’ll need to think about what you’re going to tell Edward.”

As I meet his gaze in the mirror, I’m overwhelmed with emotion. This man is the most caring—the most nurturing—person I’ve ever known.

I turn to face him, and he gazes down at me hesitantly. Almost warily. “What is it? Do you need something?”

My breath catches in my throat and butterflies careen inside my belly. Yes, there’s something I need.

Something I want.

Something I’m afraid to ask for—and yet I’m even more afraid of never having it. I’ve seen how Miguel looks at me. I remember full well the hunger in his kiss earlier this evening.

He kissed me.

“Would you be terribly upset if I kissed you?” I ask.

His eyes widen. “Ruby.” His voice is low, hoarse, suddenly rough with something that sounds like longing.

God, I hope I’m not wrong about this—about his feelings for me—because if I am, I’m about to make a huge fool of myself.