A Royal Baby on the Way. Susan Mallery

and experienced far more than a student could hope to in public school. For years Kayla had secretly wondered if her daughter would receive an invitation as she had. She was one of the only two Cassandras who’d done the motherhood thing, and Darcy, the other mother, had a four-year-old son. Were the others wondering if Jazz would be invited to attend Athena? Had it even crossed anyone else’s mind?

      Kayla would have to ponder the concept awhile herself before she went to her parents for input. They had once been faced with this same decision.

      She needed to get used to the idea. To talk it over with Jazz, see how she felt. She’d shared stories about her time at the academy with her daughter. Especially the survival courses at Yuma. Jazz loved to hear about those. Kayla considered that as a student at Athena her daughter would have access to the kind of math and science classes most high school students didn’t even know fell into the categories, like astronomy and cryptology, forensics and genetics. The field trips and other courses, such as weaponry, martial arts and foreign languages, were just a few of the perks. The expectations and level of higher thinking were far broader and deeper than even the best private schools in the country.

      And it wouldn’t cost Kayla a penny. Her child would receive all these wondrous benefits simply because she’d been invited.

      But what if Kayla learned that Athena was deeply involved in what had happened to Rainy? Could she assume her child would be safe there? She had been safe. Outside her own imprudence, no harm had come to her at Athena. Only good.

      Kayla moved back to the bed and smiled down at her child. And even her foolish behavior during her senior year had resulted in a very good end.

      This wasn’t a decision she could make right now. There were far too many considerations. Would Jazz even want to leave her friends? Kayla had struggled with that aspect of Athena life, as most of the students surely had. Admittedly, new, strong bonds had been formed by all. But did that make it the right thing?

      A heavy sigh pushed past her lips. Being a parent was a tough job. She leaned down and kissed Jazz’s cheek. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” she murmured. “Time to get up.” Her daughter roused slowly, reluctantly, giving Kayla a fleeting glimpse of the child who still lingered on the edge of Jazz’s grown-up attitude and maturing body.

      While Jazz had her breakfast, Kayla strapped on her weapon and pulled on her jacket. Her uniform consisted of khaki pants and shirt with a black jacket. The black utility belt and rubber-soled shoes were her only accessories other than the khaki-colored baseball cap that sported the county sheriff’s emblem. There had been a time when all sheriff’s deputies had worn round-billed headgear that looked a little like a Smoky the Bear hat, but not anymore. Thank goodness.

      Eventually Kayla intended to work her way up to county investigator, but she was in no hurry. She liked staying around Athens, being close in the event Jazz needed her. Moving up to the position of investigator would require that she work all over the county. For now she wasn’t interested in working cases that far away from home. Later, maybe. She’d reached the rank of lieutenant a year ago and that was about as high as she could hope to go if she wanted to stay local.

      Her partner, Jim Harkey, had never bothered with anything beyond the sergeant’s exam. He liked being a sergeant and wanted no part of the political crap, as he called it, of obtaining a higher rank than his current one. He had no interest whatsoever in becoming a part of the brass. No offense to her, he would always tack on to the statement. Kayla took no offense. To each his own, she told him.

      This morning after she dropped Jazz off at school she had follow-up work on yesterday’s larceny bust. On her lunch break she intended to drop by the Academy to talk to Betsy Stone once more. Kayla had no idea how much good it would do since she’d already talked to the nurse on two occasions and gotten zip, but she had to try again. Try being the operative word, since the nurse almost always managed to be gone when Kayla popped in. Every instinct told her Betsy knew a hell of a lot more than she was telling. And Christine was hiding something as well. Maybe nothing significant…but something.

      Dr. Reagan was the key to this. She knew it with every fiber of her being. Reagan had overseen the surrogates.

      Too bad he was dead.

      Kayla’s gut told her that there was something mighty suspicious about his sudden death four years ago. No one seemed to know where he was buried. Hopefully, his files would hold some answers. All she had to do was find them. The storage facility that housed retired files from numerous physicians in the Tucson and Phoenix area and that had Reagan’s files listed in their inventory could not explain the missing files. They were simply gone. Another dead end.

      “I’m taking your backpack to the car,” Kayla called to Jazz. That was her official ten-minute warning. Once the backpack was in the Jeep the clock was ticking down. 7:15. Kayla liked being on her way no later than 7:30. That gave her time to drop off her daughter and get to the office before eight.

      “I’m brushing my teeth!” Jazz shouted from down the hall.

      It was the same routine every morning. Jazz took her time with breakfast, which was okay with Kayla, then finally decided upon one of the three outfits they’d gone round and round about the night before. Narrowing it down to three without an all-out war was the best the two headstrong ladies could do before bedtime.

      Just something else Jazz had inherited from Kayla’s side of the family, a stubborn streak a mile wide.

      By ten-minute warning time her daughter was generally ready to roll with the exception of brushing her teeth and one final check to see that she had everything she would need for the day.

      Outside, the sun had peeked over the hills and chased away the lingering dusk. A few shadows still hung around, mostly from the neighbor’s two-story house and the scattering of trees between the two homes. Kayla breathed in the crisp morning air. She loved it here. Felt safe in a way big-city living could never offer. Alex and Tory might like the faster pace of the city. Rainy’s career and marriage had taken her to Tucson. Josie lived wherever the Air Force assigned her. Darcy had moved to a small town to escape her abusive husband but Kayla suspected she would move to a bigger city and expand her P.I. business now that he’d been arrested. Kayla would take her small-town home over anything else.

      She tossed the backpack into the front passenger seat but hesitated before closing the door. Chill bumps whispered over her skin. She frowned. Shook herself. What the hell?

      Kayla couldn’t say what it was for sure, but she had the almost overwhelming sensation that someone was watching her. She resisted the urge to whip around and survey the neighbors’ yard.

      She shook herself again. Had to be her imagination running away with her. But then, this wasn’t the first time she’d felt someone watching her. Each time she’d rationalized the episode away. Now she wondered if Hadden was lurking out here in her yard somewhere. If so, she might just have to kick his fine-looking backside.

      Slowly she closed the door and turned back toward the house. Nothing moved. As she headed in that direction she covertly scanned the yard, hers as well as the neighbors’. Nothing.

      Still, that insistent internal alarm wouldn’t let go.

      The front door slammed.

      Kayla jerked at the sound, her eyes instantly going to the small covered porch.

      “I locked the door!” Jazz flew down the steps. “Don’t forget I have choir practice after school.”

      Kayla let go the breath she’d been holding. “Got it.”

      Forcing the disturbing feeling from her mind, she dropped her daughter off at school and drove to the office.

      The satellite station that served Athens wasn’t very large. Just a couple of small rooms that shared an even smaller lobby and bathroom and a sort of conference room designated so merely by virtue of the long table and mismatched chairs sitting about. A coffeepot and soft drink machine occupied one corner of the lobby. Shirley, who served as a receptionist and a liaison to the community, kept a tidy desk in the center of the lobby. Five upholstered chairs