Elizabeth couldn't hold herself upright anymore in the shower, so she lowered herself to sit and curled her legs toward her body. The cold spray misted her bowed head as dribbles of water rushed down her nose and body. She felt numb.
Everything crashed in her mind. The best detective in the Miami Police Department was Rafe? Seriously? Her heart ached to believe him. Rafe had said that he'd get her boy home to her today. She knew better than to trust him or anyone. For the past week, no one had discovered a clue about Brandon, but her heart knew her baby was out there. Rafe made her hope.
The water splashed her shoulders, keeping her in the present, reminding her that everything can change in a heartbeat. The man she met in Vegas, who had fathered her child, had knocked on her door when she’d needed him the most.
That night his smile had told her he found her tempting. She remembered meeting him as he passed the table she sat at poker table. His walnut-shaped eyes and muscular body had made her lose her hand. The moment he’d sat next to her, in the background she heard slots and cheers, like it was a chorus, but she was mesmerized. The headiness of being near him had made her want him more than she’d wanted any other man. He hadn't known that she was Elizabeth Morgan, heiress, and had just liked her, for her.
Impossible that he was here now when she’d never expected to see him again. Outside the window in the bathroom, sunset loomed in the window that overlooked Biscayne Bay. Bile rose in her throat. The day was over.
He had failed.
Today was another end to another horrible day. She knew better than to feel anything, but her son had to be alive. The smell of his skin had faded in her mind, and she needed to hold her boy again.
A knock on the bathroom door jarred her from her thoughts. "Liz, it's almost time to go. Are you done in there?"
Her mother, Isabelle. Two days after losing Brandon, her mother had contacted her when she’d spent a lifetime without a mother at all. Then a day later, investigators tracked Brandon to Miami, where her mother intended to go as well so she moved here too. She’d stood by her mother as Isabelle reintroduced herself to her adult children. Liz’s heart hoped she'd find Brandon soon. Reuniting with the whole Morgan family meant she had more than just her two brothers, Luke and Matthew. She'd take help from anyone as long as it brought Brandon home.
Her mother's return had been a miracle, but Liz kept her focus on Brandon. Her child had just turned a year old when he'd been ripped away. She placed both hands to her sides and pushed herself to stand in the shower. "In a minute, Mother."
Her mom’s voice echoed through the door. "I placed your dress on the bed. What shoes do you want to wear?"
Nothing truly mattered. Nothing except her lost son. The tingle up her spine told her that losing Brandon was because she was stupid and she should have known better. Her shoulders slumped. She didn't want to go to her brother's wedding, which had been planned long before she’d arrived. Liz had begged Matthew and Luke to join her tonight; she was going to ask Peter for help. She swallowed back the bitterness and took a deep breath. "My Valentinos in red, but I don't want to go, Mother."
"I know what it's like to lose your children and to find them again. Right now, your brother needs us. So, the jewelry?"
No, she'd not get another minute alone. Perhaps it was for the best. Her mother had lost all six of her children. Her brother Luke, Matthew and herself, the triplets, were all raised in boarding schools as their father ripped them from her mother's arms. Her mother had been imprisoned by her own father. The story sounded surreal, though her own mother, Isabelle, had been a rock since she let her into her life.
If only she could believe she'd find Brandon, unharmed. She turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a thick, green towel. "I'm out."
"Oh good. I'll see you in the living room in fifteen minutes so we can walk over to Peter's estate together."
“Wait!” For years she assumed her mom must be dead. Isabelle understood how she felt, losing her children and finding them again. She opened the door and spoke before Isabelle Morgan walked away. "How did you survive all those years without...?"
"There, there." Her mother turned around and then walked toward her with her arms opened. Liz’s eyes glazed with tears. "I never gave up that my children were alive and healthy and somehow I would get home to them."
Hope wasn't her friend today. Once again the sun had gone down and she would spend another sleepless night blaming herself. "You knew who had them, when I would give anything for a clue. Did that help you keep faith?”
“Yes and no.” Isabelle fisted her shaking hands. "Mitch kidnapped me and had me sent away to a bunker to keep me from all my children. He told the oldest three that I was dead, and he let you three grow up without any parents. How could Mitch possibly explain the three of you to Peter, John and Victoria? He’d have to tell them what he’d done to me. He couldn’t take you home without explaining my disappearance. I had no idea what boarding school you were in or what happened to you, but I had my faith in God that he'd keep you safe, even if it was to torture me with knowing I could never be with any of you."
"Mom, I'm scared, all the time." The whispered confession stole her strength as she sank to the edge of the bed. "Anything might happen to him."
"Don't. All we can do is pray." Her mother picked up her dress. Elizabeth dropped onto her bed, and her blanket took a few more of her tears before she stood. Without another word, she let her mother throw the dress over her shoulders. It slipped down to cover her as she’d lost weight this week. Her mother helped put the dress into place. Once she was nominally done, her mother wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight. "Your Brandon will be found. Now choose jewelry so we can get going."
Without even looking at her collection, Elizabeth picked up the set she always kept at the top and pushed the earrings on her lobes. "The diamonds are fine."
Her mother fixed the necklace around her neck and Elizabeth closed her eyes. Earlier, Rafe's touch had made her feel protected, as if Brandon would be returned. A knot in her stomach grew, warning her that she imagined far too much when it came to Rafe.
One night in Vegas did not make a man a dad and even if he was the best detective in Miami, he had failed. Tonight, she’d go to the wedding to ensure her new siblings knew her and used their influence to help her find her son. She needed the best resources and connections. She picked up her phone on the dresser and realized she hadn’t charged it. It was almost dead.
Instead of spending another night in her head with her thoughts, she followed her mother out the door. Her body was numb, but she continued forward. The walk next door to Peter's estate and her mother's old home was packed with the press who must want a peek at the wedding. In Los Angeles, no one ever wanted her picture—this was strange.
They chose to walk across the back lawn, near the Intracoastal by the lights of Miami reflected on the waters.
Her heart squeezed. Had Brandon been taken because her family had money? The investigators thought so, but then why hadn’t she received a threat with a ransom demand? She'd pay anything. The last threat that Luke had brought home to her an hour before Rafe arrived was for them to leave Miami, despite the fact that the clues led her to believe that her son was in the city, somewhere.
A few days before she’d bought the house next to her brother. Peter had the best resources money could buy and she needed to get him more involved. It was her last hope.
The second they crossed onto Peter's grounds, they saw his yacht empty of guests invited for the wedding.
Her eyes widened and she took her mom’s arm. What was wrong? Her heels slipped in the grass as they turned to go into the main house. "Wasn't the wedding to be on the water?"
"There are more people on the patio than were invited to the ceremony. Let's get to the house and find out what's going on." Her mother sped up and dragged her along. Elizabeth held her breath and prayed that nothing else was so awful as her own tragedy. The whispered voices as they drew near the house and the people milling close sent a chill down her spine, despite the tropical heat of the city.
She peered through the glass doors into the house itself. "This is quite a crowd."
Her mother grabbed Elizabeth’s arm with icy fingers. "Something is wrong."
Their family needed a break. This was too much. She swallowed and patted her mother's hand. "How do you know?"
"Feel the air."
True. Electricity coming from everyone who stared with pity and wonder at her brother told her enough. Another drama. This time it was around her brother, Peter. It was like the Morgans were cursed. Liz needed to focus on others and let go of the huge gaping hole in her heart, but she couldn't. Brandon was with her every second. She blinked away the image. "Let's go find Peter."
As they made their way inside and through the crowd the words “tragic” and “horrible” spun around them. Victoria hugged her husband Colt close and kept her daughter in the embrace. John and his wife Alice were shoulder to shoulder talking to guests as they kept others away from Peter. Elizabeth passed her siblings. “Peter?”
He turned around and the moment he realized who they were, his shoulders slumped. Then he reached out and hugged them both. "I'm glad you two are here."
Her brother deserved happiness. They all did. It seemed impossible to her right now since her own heart was missing. She sighed as he pulled away and their mother massaged his arm to keep him close. "What's going on?"
Peter's eyes glazed over, like he was explaining a nightmare that didn't sound or feel real to him. "Belle's plane crashed. We have no word on either her or the pilot."
Her heart thumped as her eyes watered. This was even worse than she could have ever imagined. Belle, Peter's wife long before their “wedding” planned for tonight, had been the first person to welcome their mother home.
Kind Belle was solid and loving, and would come over just to make sure that Elizabeth was eating. Goosebumps dotted her arms that she knew she wasn’t alone.
Her other brother John, who had joined the FBI to get the goods on their father, still hadn't found any clues on Brandon's whereabouts. The Morgan name was nothing but death and misery. "Oh my God."
Peter swayed on his feet as a stranger with a question on his face despite the formal clothes for the wedding walked past them. "I don't know what to tell people."
"Don't worry about it," their mom said. Isabelle Morgan crossed her arms and shook her head. "I’ll handle the door.” No one should be here, Liz thought, but people had been invited for the wedding. Poor Peter. “Liz, stay with your brother until the rest of the family arrives."
Isabelle hugged her son and then walked away.
Right. Stick near her oldest brother, a man she’d only recently met, and offer condolences when her heart was broken too. Liz guided Peter toward a quiet corner. "What can I do?"
His head bowed, much like Luke’s did when he accepted full responsibility for something Matthew had done. Peter shouldn't feel guilty about any of this—though she never believed anyone who told her the same regarding Brandon. Finally he said, "I feel a part of me is missing, Liz. Belle was my wife though in public we were to marry tonight."
Her phone felt cold from where she’d tucked it in her bra, and she wondered if that last jolt was a signal that her battery was nearly dead. What if Brandon was found? She should be home! But for this one second, she had someone near her that felt how she did and she prayed that Peter would see her as his family and help her too. Brandon was in her heart and mind, all the time. She reached out and hugged her brother again. "I'm so sorry."
He petted her hair as he shook his head. "Don't be. You have your own issues going on."
Others coughed behind them so someone else must want to shake Peter's hand. She backed out of the hug and let him nod his head at the strangers. She hugged her waist and the moment the people walked away, she asked, "Do you truly use Rafe Soliz for detective work?"
"All the time." His fast answer made her heart quicken. He hadn't lied to her about that, just getting her son home today. Coldness enveloped her as she told herself not to hope for so much, so fast. Peter had no idea her thoughts as he continued, "I've known Rafe all my life, and he's the best. We went to school as children and his mother took us all home. I'll have him added to the search and rescue once I hear anything. I assume you spoke to him already about your son's case."
"I didn't know he was your connection until last night." It wasn't selfish of her to want her son home first, was it? Rafe might not have brought her Brandon today, but there was always tonight, tomorrow or the next day. He was her baby's father. Clearly she had to take precedence!
But then, Elizabeth wanted everyone to somehow be happy. Belle was always nice to her. She sighed. "I met him last night and he said he had a hunch on Brandon’s whereabouts."
"I should have mentioned him before. I'm sorry." Peter's lips curved into a smile. "Have faith, then. He's the best detective in Miami PD and I always get him assigned to my cases as he gets results."
The sharpness in her stomach didn't alleviate when she pressed her hands into her sides. Her brain screamed at her that she was a fool for hoping. "Everyone keeps saying that, but I’m having a hard time believing in anything right now."
"Try." Peter brought her close for a side hug after he noticed her shiver. "I can't believe Belle is gone." His head turned and tilted. "I just can’t. Here comes Jennifer." Liz didn't bother to look up. Peter turned her around, his voice quiet. "She’s carrying a car seat and she doesn’t have kids. She is friends with Rafe, though."
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but there were people that blocked her view. Her pulse skipped as the crowd stood in her way. She tried to maneuver so she could see. Her heart lifted as she asked, "What?"
Peter tugged her to stand in front of him so that she could see and her entire body melted like butter on a hot summer day. People turned toward her and Peter and slowly the crowd parted. "Liz, look."
Her hand covered her lips. She rushed through the crowd, and elbowed people to let her pass. She had to hold her baby. If he was here, she needed him in her arms. Peter placed his hand on her back and stood tall. "Brandon. He's here."
Someone stepped on her toes, but she kicked off her high heels and turned backward to see Peter wipe a tear from his eye. "Go Liz."
That was it. She didn't need any more pushing. She ran forward and unbuckled Brandon from the seat. Her baby boy was home. He smelled like fresh strawberries that were just plucked. She touched his cheeks and stared into his clear eyes. His hair was clean and he seemed healthy. She scooped him into her arms and hugged him tight. "My baby."
Brandon's laughter was the same even if he weighed more than she remembered.
She had her son. Thank you Rafe.