He accepted the call and headed back out the door, standing just outside in the porch.
“Sam Thornton,” he answered.
“Mr. Thornton, I’m glad I could get hold of you. I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time.”
Sam fielded a strange look from a couple who were walking into the clinic, the woman staring pointedly at the diaper bag still in his hand, the man with her clutching an ice pack to his wrist.
“It’s fine,” Sam said, stepping out of the porch and into the car park. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve been able to gather some more information about Erin Connell. Information that I think might come in useful for you should you prove to be the baby’s father and wish to apply for part or full custody.”
Full custody? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. Yet. “What sort of information,” he demanded, his voice cold. Right now he doubted anything he heard about Erin would surprise him.
“It seems she has a bit of a checkered past. She was a runaway. Her mother reported her as a missing person when Erin was about sixteen. Social Services found her and took her home, but she kept running away. When her mother died in a domestic violence incident Erin slipped through the cracks. No one to keep looking for her, I guess.”
Was that why she was so determined to create a perfect home now, Sam wondered privately. “Carry on, there’s obviously more,” he instructed the investigator.
“Oh, yeah, there’s certainly more. There are several records of her being arrested for petty crime—shop-lifting, vagrancy and some willful damage.”
Sam felt a chill grow in his chest. Who was this person the investigator was talking about? She sounded nothing like the Erin Connell he’d thought he’d come to know. The woman he’d actually, stupidly it now seemed, begun to develop feelings for. He’d been prepared to have it out with her. To confront her about the DNA findings and to share the findings of the latest tests. But now he wasn’t so sure. What kind of agenda had she had? Could he even trust her with the truth?
He was reminded of the reason he was here at the clinic in the first place and had the sudden urge to be there with Riley, to ensure that he was getting the best care possible, whatever the cost.
“Look, can I call you back tomorrow?” Sam asked.
“Sure, but there are a couple more things. Did you know the property she’s living in now is held in trust?”
“In trust?” She hadn’t said anything about that.
“Yeah. Her husband’s great-grand-something set it up so that the property can only be used by a direct descendant, by blood. Basically, it means she won’t have a roof over her head if you’re proven to be the baby’s father.”
“It’s been proven,” he answered succinctly, his mind turning over this new piece of information carefully. He’d struggled to understand Erin’s reasons for not wanting the DNA tests to be done, but now they were eminently clear. She stood to lose everything and was possibly even prepared to indulge in fraud to ensure that didn’t happen. At his expense. Given what he’d learned about her just now, it all began to fit—and the anger he’d been fighting to keep under control flared to scorching life again.
“I guess congratulations are in order then, Mr. Thornton.”
“Thanks,” Sam said curtly, now more than ever needing to get inside the medical center to see Riley and Erin.
“Before you hang up—” the investigator interjected “—there’s more you ought to know.”
“Carry on,” Sam said, impatience making his words brisk.
“Erin Connell, or rather, Johnson, as she was known then, was once held for questioning in relation to an infant death.”
Twelve
All the blood rushed out of Sam’s head and went straight to his feet. He dropped the diaper bag and leaned against a nearby signpost.
“She what?” he finally managed to grind out.
“Seems she was living in a squat house. A child died and everyone there closed ranks. Wouldn’t divulge any information about the baby’s death, which made everyone a suspect. The death wasn’t an accident, but no charges were brought, and as far as I’m aware the case is still open.”
“When exactly did this happen?” Sam managed to ask even as other questions swirled around in his mind.
“About ten years ago, just before she headed out to Lake Tahoe.”
Where she’d subsequently inveigled her way into the heart and the bed of the owner of Connell Lodge, Sam realized. Had she been as cold-blooded as all that? It was possible, especially if she was the kind of woman who could stand by when a child was murdered and agree not see the perpetrator brought to justice. Who did that? And, more important, where did that leave Riley in terms of safety?