Luis leaned forward in his chair and focused his eyes on Wilkes. "So you're saying you have no knowledge of Alistair Crane? That you've never met the man?"
"No, I don't know him." Wilkes turned to his lawyer, Aaron Doral. "I thought we came here today to discuss these trumped-up drug-trafficking charges—not anything else."
"That was my understanding, too." Aaron narrowed his eyes on Hal. "You didn't say anything to me about Alistair Crane when we last spoke."
Hal smiled. "Believe it or not, I don't have to run everything by you, Mr. Doral."
Aaron studied Hal. "Evidently, you feel you don't."
Luis picked up a pen. "Have you ever heard of Boston Metro Hospital or Harbor Foster Agency?"
Wilkes's jaw twitched. "Look, I don't know what you're getting at," he scoffed, "but I've never even heard of either one of those places."
"Really?" Luis put down his pen. "Because I have it on good authority that you were involved in the kidnapping of a baby born in Boston Metro."
"I know nothing about that," Wilkes maintained.
Luis folded his hands in front of him. "So you're saying that you wouldn't mind taking a lie-detector test."
His face flushing, Wilkes averted his eyes to the table.
Clicking his pen open, Luis flipped open his notebook to a blank page. "I see we're finally getting somewhere."
Eve flipped through the magazine she was reading—or rather, not reading—and put it down on the table in front of her at The Book Café. She should have known that Luis would be called down to Washington on her day off—when she didn't have work to distract her.
Eve checked her watch again. Only five minutes had passed since the last time she had checked.
She had to find a way to occupy her mind. She had to find a way to relax.
"Mom?"
Eve's heart leapt in her chest.
"Whit . . . Whitney?" Eve's eyes flew up.
"I'm sorry. I guess I'm catching you at a bad time . . ." Tears in her eyes, Whitney turned on her heel.
Eve jumped up from her seat. "No, Whitney—please don't go."
"Don't worry about it, Mom," Whitney sniffled. "Just go back to what you were reading."
"I wasn't reading anything important—I was just trying to distract myself." Eve's heartbeat accelerated. "Whitney—please—tell me what's bothering you."
Whitney turned back around and leveled her eyes on Eve's. "Why were you trying to distract yourself?"
Her pulse racing, Eve scanned the café. "I'm sorry—I really can't talk about it here."
"Okay." Whitney set her jaw. "I obviously caught you at a bad time."
"No." Eve reached out and grasped Whitney's hand. "Please let me be there for you. I really want to tell you what's going on, but I can't do it with all of these other people around. Why don't we go for a walk?"
"Sheridan, what do you know about your mother's friend Virginia's son?" Gwen asked through the receiver.
"Not much," Sheridan replied, leaning her head against the phone and turning on the computer. "Why do you ask?"
"Do you remember how, at your shower, Virginia and I were discussing the fact that I'm looking for a new job?" Gwen asked. "Her son just called me about an opening at his company."
"That's great, isn't it?" Sheridan winced as the baby kicked her rib cage.
"Sheridan, are you okay?" Gwen asked. "You sound like you're having trouble breathing."
"I'm fine," Sheridan grimaced. "I'm just ready for this baby to be born."
"Oh, Sheridan . . ." Gwen's voice filled with sympathy. "I'm sure Hank will cover for you if you want to go home and lie down."
"I know he will." Sheridan shifted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. "But it's not fair to make him shoulder everything just because I'm pregnant."
"You're very pregnant," Gwen laughed. "I think Hank will understand—and, if not, I'll find a way to make him."
Despite her discomfort, Sheridan smiled. "See—you already know how to drive a hard bargain: I'm sure that job is already yours."
"That's the thing. . . . I'm not sure that I want it." Gwen paused for a moment. "I want to leave Hotchkiss Industries because I want to break out on my own. I'm not sure that getting a new job through nepotism is the path I want to take."
"What if you think about it a little bit differently?" Sheridan suggested. "After all, I barely know Virginia and you only really met her for a few minutes. Maybe you just impressed her."
"Maybe," Gwen conceded.
"Would it really hurt to just talk to her son?" Sheridan asked.
"No, I guess not . . ."
"I understand your reservations, but think about it from their point of view," Sheridan said. "You're clearly talented enough to single-handedly run an entire division of Hotchkiss Industries—don't sell yourself short."
"Please tell me what's gotten you so upset, Whitney."
Whitney nudged her toe against the edge of the dock. "Why were you so distracted back at The Book Café, Mom?"
Eve glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still alone. Relief washing through her, she turned back to her daughter. "Luis and Sheridan think they might have located my son."
"What?" Tears springing to her eyes, Whitney looked up. "Are you serious, Mom?"
"Yes, I am." Eve's eyes glistened with tears. "With any luck, Julian and I will be reunited with him sometime soon."
Whitney's hand flew to her mouth. "Does this mean I might actually get to meet my brother?"
"Yes." Eve's face broke into a smile. "Part of me can't even believe that this is happening. In the back of my mind, part of me has always hoped this day might come—no matter how impossible it seemed."
"This is so wonderful!" Whitney threw her arms around her mother. "I can't believe that this is finally happening—that you'll finally be reunited with him."
"I know," Eve cried, her heart swelling with hope as she embraced Whitney. "This entire situation feels pretty surreal."
"Yes, it does . . ." Whitney stepped back.
Eve's heart plummeted to her stomach. "Did . . . did I say something that upset you?"
"No." Whitney choked up. "It's just that . . . well, keeping this to yourself for all of these years has been really hard for you—hasn't it?"
Fresh tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, Eve gathered herself together. "Yes, it has. But I don't want you to feel sorry for me." Eve straightened her back and cleared her throat. "I made my own mistakes, and I chose to keep them a secret—that's on no one but me."
"But given how much Daddy hates Julian, talking about your past must have been hard for you . . ." Whitney shifted on her feet. "I mean, Daddy didn't like Julian even before he found out that the two of you used to be involved . . ."
"Yes, but I still wish I had been honest with your father," Eve said. "I never should have agreed to marry him without telling him about my past with Julian—about the fact that we had a son together."
Whitney's voice cracked; fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "Maybe you just didn't want to hurt him . . ."
Apprehension surged through Eve's body. "Whitney—what's going on?"
"Noth . . . nothing." Whitney fought back her tears. "It's . . . it's just that Daddy overheard me talking to Theresa earlier about maybe taking a break from tennis, and he got really upset."
"You want to take a break from tennis?" Eve asked, her voice filling with disbelief.
"I'm not sure," Whitney said, her voice quieting. "But I think I'd like to try."
"Well then—maybe you should." Eve's disbelief strengthened into resolve. "Maybe you should follow your heart."
"What's going on, Papa?" Luis turned off his motor and looked into the youth center. He couldn't believe he had made such good time on the flight home from Washington—Sheridan hadn't even left for the day yet.
"Luis—I've been trying to reach you all day," Martin said.
"I'm sorry—I was tied up with some police business."
"Don't worry about it, son," Martin said. "I hope everything worked out."
Luis chuckled and raised his brows. "It's funny—but I think it all did."
"You sound surprised," Martin observed.
"Yes, I guess I am." Luis rubbed his face and glanced down at the dossier he had brought home on Wilkes. "It's almost like this miracle just fell into my lap."
"Maybe it's because you let it, Luis."
Luis smiled at his father's voice—he could feel his father smiling through the phone. "You really believe that, don't you?"
Martin's voice filled with happiness. "Yes—I really do."
Luis laughed and ran one hand through his hair. "Maybe that's where Theresa got her belief in fate."
"Maybe." Martin's smile permeated through the speaker. "She definitely is my little girl."
"Yes," Luis chuckled. "That she certainly is."
"Listen, Luis." Martin cleared his throat. "I don't want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask if you'd be willing to help me out with my physical therapy over the next few months—I'm trying to plan a surprise for your mother."
"Sure, Papa," Luis smiled. "What kind of surprise?"
"I want to renew our vows," Martin said, "—and there's nothing I would love more than to be able to stand up and wait for her at the altar when she walks down the aisle."
"I would love to help you with that," Luis said, "but do you think you can progress that quickly?"
"I do." The smile in Martin's voice radiated through the phone. "I may have a lot of work to do, but, like you said . . . sometimes, miracles just fall into our laps."
