I Know Who Holds Tomorrow by Francis Ray

his mistress,” she said, her voice shaky.
    â€œI thought you’d feel better knowing no one else knows.”
    â€œYou know!”
    â€œIt’s time for Manda’s bottle. Could you put on a pan of water to heat it up?” he said in a conversational tone, then patted the lemon-yellow quilted diaper bag hanging from his broad shoulder. “Her bottle is in here.”
    â€œI think I’ll call the police instead.”
    â€œYou could, then they’d ask me why I’m here,” he returned.
    Color drained from her face.
    â€œAnd I’d have to say that I came by to visit and overstayed my welcome, and ask you to keep Manda while they took me to Lew Sterrett Jail.”
    As easily as he had incensed, he calmed her. He wouldn’t blackmail, but he wasn’t above badgering.
    â€œYou don’t know what you’re asking.” Her stomach knotted.
    Black eyes narrowed. “Yes, I do. I’m asking you to keep an innocent child out of foster care.”
    Manda squealed, drawing Madison’s eyes to her again. “After she’s fed, you both have to leave.” Turning, she went to the kitchen and pointed toward the faucet. “Instant hot water. Wes—” Her voice stopped abruptly. She folded her arms around her waist and glanced out the French doors toward the landscaped backyard.

    â€œWes didn’t like waiting for hot water,” Zachary finished. “It’ll help to talk about him.”
    She shook her head and watched the wind play with the leaves of the fruitless mulberry trees in the back. The things she wanted to say wouldn’t be healing; they’d be angry and spiteful. She hated that about herself. She heard the water come on and tried to ignore the cheerful babble of the baby.
    â€œCome back here.”
    Madison turned to see Manda on all fours making her way across the tile floor toward her. Madison took an instinctive step backward. Her panicky gaze went to Zachary, standing with the bottle under the water, then back to the baby who was inches away from her bare feet.
    â€œCome get her,” Madison demanded, her distress growing.
    â€œBabies and hot water don’t mix,” he said casually, not moving.
    Babbling, Manda reached for Madison’s robe. Since it wasn’t tied, when the baby pulled, it gave. Her eyes widened as she went backward and plopped on her bottom. Instinctively Madison swept her up, expecting to see tears. Instead the baby was grinning and waving her hands, her hazel eyes sparkling.
    Hazel eyes just like Wes’s.
    Madison was leaning over to put the baby down when Zachary curved an arm around the infant’s waist. “Come here, munchkin. Time for lunch.”
    As soon as Manda saw the bottle, she lunged for it, grabbing it with both hands and bringing it to her mouth. Loud sucking noises followed. “Did you eat lunch, yet, Madison?”
    â€œI’m not hungry.”
    His eyes narrowed. “You have to eat.”
    â€œI will once you leave.” She pointedly looked at the milk in the bottle that was rapidly disappearing.
    He’d known it wasn’t going to be easy and it wasn’t. He’d come too far to back down. “Mind if I sit down?”
    Madison smiled sweetly. “As a matter of fact I do.”
    Zachary shifted from one foot to the other as if trying to adjust Manda’s weight. What he was really doing was making sure that when he finished, Manda was staring at Madison. He didn’t have to wait long for a reaction.
    â€œSit down,” she ordered impatiently. “I’m going to get dressed.”
    â€œThank you.” Instead of taking a seat at the kitchen table, he went into
the den and sat in the rattan-and-brown leather side chair. When the baby finished the bottle, he placed a towel on his shoulder and gently but firmly patted her back until she burped.
    â€œThat’s my girl.” Manda grinned up at him. “I think