Rush by Beth Yarnall Page B

of a child close to her was a brother born about fourteen years ago. Ethan Derek Easley born July twenty-nine died six months later on January eleven. Cause of death was listed as SIDS, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.”
    Lucas thought about the recent photo of Mi and the older woman with a baby in a park. The car seat. The crib. He hadn’t bought her explanation about buying those things for Lucy at rummage sales. They’d looked used. And often. Unless she babysat regularly it just didn’t add up.
    “Anything else?”
    “She makes a very decent income, but her bank balance is pathetically low. She has little debt other than her house. No savings. I can’t find where her money actually goes. But whatever she’s spending it on, she’s paying cash, leaving no credit trail.” Malcolm let the end of the sentence hang with all kinds of supposition tacked onto it— gambling, drugs, the list went on and on. None of it was good.
    Fuck.
    “You want me to keep digging?”
    That sick feeling he’d gotten, when Vanessa had thrown herself to her knees in front of him begging him to forgive her, dropped into his belly and lay there like a pile of lumber, hard and unrelenting.
    “No,” he managed. She would have to confide in him on her own.
    “Sorry, man.”
    “Yeah.” Me too, he silently added. “Thanks. I owe you.”
    “No. I think giving this kind of news is a favor that should never be repaid.” Malcolm hung up.
    He shoved his phone deep into his pocket and took a moment to wipe the disappointment from his face. He almost wished he hadn’t asked Malcolm to check out Mi. Almost.
    He clamped down his emotions, trying not to acknowledge how hard disillusionment rode him. Sifting through the information Malcolm had provided, he compared it with what he’d seen, heard, and surmised about Mi. What was she hiding? And how much of what she was keeping to herself was going to turn around and bite him in the ass?
    Mi came out of the makeup room and glanced around until she spotted him. She smiled, her face lit with what looked like genuine pleasure at the sight of him. His forehead hurt and he realized he was scowling back at her. As she neared, he lost all perspective, his vision narrowing down to a point that began and ended with her as though she were a single candle in a darkened room. She came even with him and he realized he’d forgotten to breathe. With his sudden intake of air came the recognition that this tiny woman could do him more harm than a grenade strapped to his chest. It scared him even more that he might be willing to take that risk.
    “I’m ready to go.” She glanced around the studio. “Is Cal still here?”
    “No.”
    “Oh.” She frowned and worried her lip, her gaze darting away. She seemed to be struggling over what to say next. “I… I’m still not quite comfortable with how this works.” She made a back and forth motion between them. “I have plans to have dinner with Lucy tonight. I almost forgot until she just texted me.” She held out her phone, the screen dark. “I can cancel.”
    “Up to you.”
    “Is something wrong?” she asked.
    “Hey, Mi,” one of the crew guys interrupted. “Crosby wants to see you in his office.”
    “Thanks, Will.”
    Lucas trailed after Mi, contemplating calling Cal to ask him to put someone else on Mi. But no. He owed Cal and he’d given his friend his word. Lucas never went back on his word. Never. He’d have to find another way to deal with Mi’s deceit. Remembering what he was there to do was a start. Keeping his hands off her and his mind from fantasizing about the things he’d like to do for her… to her… with her… would be near impossible.
    They rounded the corner and a man Lucas had never seen before sat in the visitor’s chair in Crosby’s office. He automatically went for his weapon, stilling when Mi put a hand out to stop him. She recognized the man.
    “My brother, Jason.”
    It took a moment for Lucas to peg the blond-haired