Protecting Their Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather

bet you do.” She motioned to the stove top. “I’m making blueberry pancakes.”

      “Looks like you’re fixing ham and eggs, too.”

      “I’m famished.”

      No doubt, he thought. She was eating for two. He still couldn’t believe that this was happening, that he was going to have a kid.

      “Do you want to eat on the porch?” she asked.

      “Sure. Why not?” Since the front door was already open, he glanced in that direction. The porch was rife with potted plants, and amid the greenery was a glass-topped table. “I can put the plates out if you want.”

      “Thanks. That’d be nice.” She showed him where the dishes and flatware were kept.

      He scooted past her. “Are we going to sit out there and spy on your neighbors? I can change my shirt if we are. I have one that says Love thy Neighbor, but Don’t Get Caught.”

      She shook her head. “Figures you’d have a shirt like that. Especially with the type of neighbors you have.”

      “You mean, young and sexy and single?” Rex loved his naughty neighborhood. “What type lives around here? Old and married and crotchety?”

      “Nice and normal,” she responded, tossing a dish towel at him.

      He laughed and tossed it back at her. Were they flirting? Yes, he thought. And he liked it.

      Soon they were seated on the porch, a hearty, home-cooked meal in front of them.

      Rex decided that he could get used to this. She’d even made cappuccino from one of those commercial-grade espresso machines, decaffeinated for her and the potent stuff for him. He toasted her with his cup. “Here’s to vintage suburbia.” He glanced around at the other houses, with their colorful flowerbeds and white fences. “Are you sure your neighbors are nice and normal?”

      She furrowed her brows. “Why? Do you think you should investigate them?”

      “Do they know about the baby?”

      “Some of them do.”

      “Then, yes, I think I should check them out.”

      “That list of yours keeps getting longer.” She rubbed her arms, as if to ward off a sudden chill. “Better to be safe than sorry, right? What would I do without your help? I couldn’t handle this on my own.”

      Her anxious gaze met his, drawing him in, making him even more protective of her.

      “I’m going to put my other cases on hold.” He needed to devote as much time as he could to this investigation.

      “I dread calling my parents.” She rubbed her arms again. “They’re going to worry something fierce.”

      And with good reason. Rex was worried, too. What kind of sick bastard maimed a doll and left it in a pregnant woman’s car?

      “Do you think the police will uncover any evidence?” she asked.

      “I don’t know.” He doubted that fingerprints or DNA had been left behind. Even the knife that had been used seemed generic. It could have come from anyone’s kitchen. As for the doll itself, he suspected that tons of stores carried them.

      “Maybe I should buy that other car soon.”

      “The SUV?”

      She nodded. “A newer car won’t be as easy to break into. And it’s safer, with air bags and all of that.”

      In the silence, she cut into her pancakes. By now, the food on their plates had begun to turn cold. But he was glad that she’d resumed eating. He returned to his meal, too.

      After a few more bites, she looked up at him. “Do you think I’m being naive?”

      “About what?”

      “About who’s threatening me? Do you think I should have some sort of feeling about who it could be?”

      No way was he going to blame her. “I think you’re sweet and trusting. But from now on, you need to be more aware of your surroundings.”

      “And suspect everyone, the way you do?”

      “It’s my job to be suspicious.”

      “Maybe my mommy instincts will kick in, and I’ll be able to help you figure out who the bad guy is.”

      He hoped that her mommy instincts boosted the case. He contemplated touching her stomach, but he feared his hand would tremble. He wasn’t ready to meet his kid.

      Struggling to regain his composure, he grabbed his cappuccino, taking refuge in the creamy brew.

      “Have your friends picked a name?” she asked.

      “What?” Her question confused him.

      “The couple whose baby is due this month. Have they chosen a name for their daughter?”

      “I have no idea.”

      “You never asked them?”

      “No.”

      “I guess it’s too soon for us to discuss names.”

      For their kid? Way too soon, he thought.

      “It helps for me to talk about the baby.” Lisa cradled the tummy he’d been afraid to touch. “To think about all the good stuff still to come.”

      As opposed to the bad stuff that was happening now? “That’s understandable.”

      “I wonder if I’ll get cravings.”

      “Cravings?” he parroted.

      “For specific foods.”

      “Like the pickles-and-ice-cream thing?” That much he knew. That much he’d heard of.

      “Yes, but I don’t think that’s a common craving.”

      “Then why did it catch on?”

      She made a perplexed face, but she was an expressive girl. He figured it was the dance and theater major in her.

      “I don’t know why it caught on,” she said. “Maybe I’ll research it online.”

      “Sounds like a plan.” Anything to keep her mind off the danger she was in, he thought, to give her a short reprieve.

      And create an illusion of normalcy.

      

      While Lisa napped, Rex worked. He brought his laptop into the living room and ran more background checks. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. Or at least nothing criminal. Who knew what kind of evil lurked in people’s minds?

      When Lisa got up, she headed to the bathroom, but she didn’t have another bout of sickness. He wasn’t deliberately listening for sounds of retching, but he was trying to keep an eye on her.

      She came into the living room, and he noticed that her dress was wrinkled. She must have slept in it, making her look soft and rumbled.

      “I’m going to fix a snack,” she said. “Do you want one?”

      “No, thanks.” Breakfast hadn’t been that long ago.

      Soon Lisa returned with a peanut butter sandwich and a tall, frosty glass of milk. He was glad to see that she was getting her calcium. He wondered if she was going to breast-feed, then cursed himself for thinking about it, especially since it made him feel kind of sexual.

      Since when did nursing mothers turn him on?

      She sat beside him and munched. “How’s it going?”

      Terrible, he thought. It was all he could do not to look at her breasts. “I did a Google search and discovered that your first boyfriend has a MySpace profile. Mostly it’s family stuff. Pictures of