Enchanting Baby. Darlene Graham

have given him any additional information. She reminded herself to be careful with this stranger. He could be some kind of weird imposter, trying to get near Ashleigh. He could have made all this up, based on the storm of publicity that Ashleigh’s pregnancy had created. He could even be the stalker, although that seemed unlikely. Apparently he was a former deputy sheriff.

      “Yes, ma’am. California Fertility Consultants. They informed me that the mix-up actually occurred way back at the time of…the storage.”

      “Five years ago?” Maureen bit her lip again, rueing the slip, but she found this whole story utterly incredible.

      “Yes. Your daughter’s husband and I both elected to bank our sperm at the same time, in October of ’98—”

      “I know when it was, Mr. Glazier. It was just before my son-in-law started chemotherapy.”

      “I’m sorry he didn’t make it.” Again the man’s hand scraped down his face. He was nice-looking, but right now his skin looked pale, clammy. Was that because he was lying? Maureen wondered if Marvin knew anything about this Greg Glazier. She’d have to make it a point to ask him, the next time she caught him between meetings.

      “With the passage of time, our family has adjusted to Chad’s death.”

      “I know how that is, believe me. And believe me, I don’t want to cause your family any more pain, but you’ve got to hear me out.”

      “That’s why I am here.”

      “The day the lab received your son-in-law’s samples, my samples from Colorado arrived in California in the same shipment. We used the same doctor in Denver.”

      “I see. If I may ask, why did you elect to freeze your…sperm.” Maureen felt genuinely uneasy, having this highly personal conversation with a stranger. “If I may ask.”

      Greg swallowed. He shot a look at the back of the cop’s head that told Maureen he was as uncomfortable about having this conversation as she was. “I’d rather not say,” he spoke quietly. “It’s not important now. The point is my samples were somehow confused with Chad’s.”

      “But the lab in California told my daughter that they took extra precautions. Each client was given their own separate storage unit. Each storage unit had a duplicate in another location, in another part of the state.”

      “Yes, the same process was explained to me.”

      “Then how…” Maureen’s voice trailed off. It seemed pointless to argue this. No matter what he said, there would have to be paternity testing when the baby came.

      “They didn’t discover the error until the brownout at their main site. When they went for retrieval of the backup samples at the alternative site, they discovered that the ones in both my storage unit and in Chad’s storage unit were actually Chad’s.”

      “Which means that both the samples at the main storage facility were yours.”

      “Exactly. When they went back and checked the containers that had gone bad during the brownout, they found that both storage tanks—mine and Chad’s—indeed had had my samples in them.”

      Maureen covered her mouth with a shaky hand, suddenly seeing how the mishap had happened. “So,” she whispered through her fingers, “they kept all of your samples at the original facility, and sent all of Chad’s samples to the backup facility.”

      “I’m afraid so.”

      “And Ashleigh was impregnated with…”

      “Mine.”

      Maureen’s tears were hot and angry. “How could they make such a horrid mistake?”

      “It’s very rare.” His voice was gentle with compassion. “Like I said, Chad and I used the same doctor in Denver. Our samples were shipped together and they got confused when they divided them up to create the duplicate containers. We would never have known any of this if the brownout hadn’t occurred.”

      “Why not?” She dabbed at her eyes. “Weren’t you planning on using your…samples someday?”

      “No.” His look became slightly bitter before he amended. “Not unless I remarry.”

      “You’re single?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “May I ask why you were storing…do you have some kind of health problem? We are talking about my future grandchild here. It’s something Ashleigh will want to know. She knows all about babies, including all the things that can go wrong.”

      “No, ma’am. I’m perfectly healthy, except for this altitude sickness.” His disparaging smile might have been engaging, but Maureen wanted no part of it. His expression grew serious again. “My reasons for storing my sperm—it’s a long story. Let’s just say I wanted to be sure I could have children if that ever became possible.”

      “But now…” Maureen drew a sharp breath, realizing another horrible truth.

      “Now,” he confirmed sadly, “I have no samples left. All of my…material was destroyed in the brownout.”

      “But we still have Chad’s.”

      “Yes, ma’am. That’s true. And I hope that will be some comfort to your daughter in all of this. But this baby…this baby is mine.”

      Maureen sat as still as a stunned bird, staring at the Plexiglas shield, blinking while she absorbed the awful truth. And it was the truth, she was convinced of that now. Something else occurred to her then, and the thought made her angry. “How did you know Ashleigh was the patient who was impregnated with your last remaining sperm? The lab should never have told you that!”

      “They had to tell me they…used it. But they wouldn’t tell me her name, at first. I figured it out from all the publicity about her pregnancy. Seems your daughter’s decision to carry her dead husband’s child made quite a human interest story.”

      Silently, Maureen damned the media again for what they had done to Ashleigh’s life. “The publicity, I’m afraid, has exposed my daughter to an undesirable element.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “Unfortunately, Ashleigh’s situation with this baby has drawn a stalker. And I’m afrai—”

      “Wait a minute.” Greg thrust a palm up. “Wait just a damn minute. A stalker? What stalker?”

      At the anger in his voice, Maureen flinched.

      “I’m sorry.” He immediately softened his tone. “But when somebody uses the word stalker in the same sentence where she’s talking about my baby, my alarm bells go off.”

      Maureen understood perfectly.

      “What kind of stalker?” He kept his voice calm now.

      She supposed, if the baby really was his, he had a right to know about this threat.

      “The police think it’s some kind of fanatic. They only know his first name. Simon. We don’t have a last name. He first called in to the Q and A segment of Ashleigh’s show months ago. He seemed obsessed with the topic of babies and fertility. He started saying strange, startling things, trying to engage Ashleigh in an on-air debate. He expressed some truly bizarre attitudes about things like fertility treatments and surrogate mothers and human cloning. The producers figured out he was a nutcase and wouldn’t take any more of his calls. You have to understand—” she gave Greg Glazier a pleading look when she saw that his jaw was tightening in anger “—almost every media personality attracts these types.”

      “When did he start to bother her?”

      “A couple of months ago. He’s the reason Ashleigh finally took herself off the air and let someone else do the show. At least for now.”

      “Why do the police think he’s stalking her?”