MemoriesErasedTreachery Read online

  Gemma!

  No, wait. What was he thinking? Gemma couldn't help. She had her own ongoing issues to overcome. At her present stage of remission, his aunt wasn't strong enough to deal with a baby. Hell. Without Timothy there, just telling her about Nicole and Carolyn, regardless of their conditions, might cause a decline in Gemma's progress. No, he couldn't lay the care of an infant on his aunt.

  Mick and Tag!

  Hmm. They probably couldn't help with a baby, but they could contact MacGregor for him.

  Ewyn pulled onto the hospital grounds, eased into the visitor parking out front and jumped from the car. He hauled ass toward the emergency room and reached the check-in desk just as several green-garmented hospital personnel barreled pass, wheeling a gurney headed toward the elevators.

  "Wait!" Ewyn ran and caught up to the gurney, grabbing its side, impeding its progress. He froze when he glanced at the woman lying there.

  "Sir! Stand aside. We have to get her to surgery."

  With his hold hindering the trauma teams' forward momentum, Ewyn whispered, "Nicole?"

  Severely injured and unconscious, the disfigured face had tubes and other paraphernalia protruding from its crevices. He assumed it was Nicole, and not Carolyn, because of the stray wisps of red hair peeking out from beneath the bandages covering her head. Nicole had the signature Kelley coloring, red hair and blue eyes, while Carolyn had the jet-black, Calderone hair and green eyes. For sure, it was Nicole.

  "Sir!"

  Ewyn flinched and staggered back. The hospital staff brushed by him at a trot, gurney wheels squeaking as they clattered over the elevator threshold. The doors closed in Ewyn's face.

  "Sir…" Someone touched his arm. "Sir…"

  He swung around.

  "If you'll come with me, I'll explain--"

  "I'm her uncle," he interrupted as the nurse steered him toward the waiting room. "Where's her sister?"

  "Can I get you something?"

  "Miss, uh…" Ewyn glanced at the woman's nametag. "Miss Johanssen. No platitudes, just give it to me straight."

  "Sorry, Mister Calderone…"

  "Kelley," Ewyn responded automatically.

  "Oh, I thought…never mind." The nurse shook her head. "I am so sorry, but the younger girl was dead on arrival, and they don't hold out much hope for the other one." She looked down at the clipboard she held. "Nicole?"

  "Yes." Ewyn inhaled deeply, staving off the sob caught in his throat. He couldn't fall apart, not now.

  "Nicole is on a respirator. They're trying to keep her alive long enough to save her child. The baby is full term. Nicole was in labor at the time of the accident."

  Ewyn turned away, tears blurring his vision. He walked to the wall of windows and stared blindly out into the darkness.

  "I'm sorry for your loss," Ms. Johanssen told him. "I'll give you a few moments. Then I'll need you to fill out some forms."

  Ewyn nodded.

  * * * *

  The baby survived.

  Imagine, his brother a grandfather. Of course, Gregorio had had plenty of parenting experience since their dad had died and he'd had to step into the role of father for Ewyn. In addition, with the help of his mother and aunt, Gregorio had raised his two girls. Cecilia had been useless, and now the girls were gone, their young lives cut short.

  Ewyn had gone to make positive identification of his nieces and to fill out the necessary paperwork before heading to the nursery. Feet feeling like lead weights, he trudged up the stairway on his way to meet the newest member of his family. He reached the second floor and paused on the stairwell landing.

  The remembered sight of Nicole and Carolyn, pale and lifeless, once familiar faces battered, swollen, and barely recognizable, the agony of loss clutched at his heart and a gut wrenching sob escaped his lips. He took a deep calming breath, swiped tears from his face, then yanked open the door and moved inside. The muted hallway lights made the glow from the nursery window seem like a beacon guiding his way. He strode silently across the carpeted floor, his pace slowing as he neared the large display window. He came to a complete stop in front of a bassinet with the name, baby girl Calderone on the attached placard.

  Ewyn gazed through the glass partition at the miniature figure with her pert nose, little lips pursed and in motion, and a noticeable cleft in her chin. Bundled in a pink blanket, she lay on her back sleeping calmly, her tightly clenched fists resting on each side of a small round head covered by a pink knitted cap. He wondered what color her hair would be.

  A jumble of emotions crowded his mind as he stared down at the tiny bundle. He didn't know a damn thing about babies, and God knows he didn't want to seem arrogant, but he thought she was the prettiest baby in the nursery. Full term, she weighed in at nine pounds four ounces, which wasn't unusual for a Calderone, since he had weighed nine pounds at birth and Gregorio had weighed nine pounds eight ounces.

  However, what was unusual, the staff said she had gray eyes, which wasn't a Calderone or a Kelley trait, at least not in recent generations. Could be her father's contribution to the gene pool, the son of a bitch. Ewyn would love to get his hands on the bastard, but that would have to wait. First order of business, he needed a name. He didn't want his niece referred to as baby girl Calderone for another moment.

  Remembering the stories his mother had told him about her Catholic school days, Mairianna used to talk about her best friend Kiera. He liked the name. It had a nice sound to it. Then again, maybe he should name the baby…damn, listen to him. The anonymity of baby girl Calderone had him referring to her as the baby, as if she were an inanimate object.

  Ewyn sighed. He'd need a second name, too. Maybe he should name her Alanna, since it was Nicole's middle name, and it would be the legacy from mother to daughter. But which name should be first? The sudden tapping on the window jerked him to attention. One of the nursery staff signaled for him to come to the main doors. He moved to the entrance and waited. The double doors whooshed open and a nurse stood there holding out a surgical cap, gown, and booties. He stared.

  "You need to put these on, if you want to hold her."

  Ewyn stepped back. "Excuse me?"

  "Come on, Mister Calderone, don't be shy. She needs you. Her mother is dead, father unknown, she needs some love. This is a crucial time in her life."

  Still, he hesitated. "I don't want to hurt her. I've never held a baby before, I'll drop her."

  "No, you won't," the nurse announced. "I won't let you. I'll be with you the entire time. Come on, she needs to be held. Normally, the mother would cuddle her immediately after birth, to start the bonding process, but…"

  "You're right."

  What was he thinking? Having experienced feelings of insecurity and doubt when he thought he didn't have anyone to turn to, he damn sure wouldn't let Kiera start her young life in such a manner, or let her get familiar with those emotions. She didn't have anyone else, so he needed to step up to the plate.

  Ewyn walked into the inner hallway, removed his leather jacket, took the items the nurse held out to him, and slipped them on over his clothes and shoes. "What do I need to do?"

  "Follow me."

  The nurse led him through another set of double doors and into the inner sanctum. He paused just inside the entrance and inhaled deeply. The regulated air enveloped him in an aroma of newness--clean and fresh.

  He followed the nurse to a small room where subdued lighting glowed from a lamp on a white dresser with multicolored knobs. A rocking chair occupied the space between the dresser and the bassinette holding his niece. Against an adjoining wall, there was a changing table, a small sink, and a shelf unit containing a supply of diapers and other baby necessities. Ewyn moved to the rocker, settled down, and waited.

  The nurse turned to him with Kiera in her outstretched arms. Not knowing what to expect or how to act, with trembling hands, he reached for his niece. He was terrified, until he cradled Kiera in his arms and she opened her big gray eyes. She seemed to be looking directly at him. On
his part, it was love at first sight.

  He cuddled her against his body, inhaled her baby-fresh scent, and gently trailed his fingertips across one downy soft cheek. Lifting the edge of the pink, knitted cap, he touched the slightly curly jet-black hair. Overwhelmed by his feelings, he made a solemn vow to protect this little life with his own, and he relaxed.

  The nurse kept her word by rolling a chair into the room and spending the next two hours instructing him on the proper care and handling of an infant. Ewyn gave Kiera her first feeding, cringing every time spooge dribbled down Kiera's chin, and kept interrupting her feeding to wipe her mouth. He learned how to burp her, discovering he should place a clean cloth on his shoulder first.

  "It will keep you from getting spooge, as you called it, on your clothes, and the baby won't get foreign particles from your clothing in her mouth," the nurse explained. "Nothing with nap. They sell burp cloths made from one hundred percent cotton, and you can purchase them in bulk." She showed him various baby necessities and their uses. "You'll need to stock up on these items. I'll have a list of the essentials for you when you're ready to leave."

  Ewyn balked when it came to changing the poopy diaper, but once he learned to breathe through his mouth during the process, he was good to go. He gave Kiera a quick sponge bath, redressed her, and rocked her to sleep.

  "You did well, for a first-timer. Have you thought of any names for her?" the nurse asked from her observation post across the room.

  Ewyn nodded. "Her name is Kiera Alanna Calderone," he whispered. He'd already been thinking of her as Kiera. It seemed so right. It fit.

  "It's a lovely name," the nurse remarked. "But you don't need to whisper. You want her to get used to your normal speaking tone."

  "Oh…okay," he responded without taking his eyes off Kiera. "How long will she have to stay here?"

  "Well, because of the circumstances of her birth, we're going to keep her for a few days."

  "Is something wrong with her? She looks okay."

  "I'd say she's darn near perfect. However, she had a traumatic beginning. It's just a precaution to be on the safe side."

  "Oh, right. I'll use the time to get everything ready for her at home," he said.

  "Will you need home assistance?"

  "No. There's adequate staff to accommodate her requirements. She'll be just fine."

  "Good." The nurse stood and headed for the door. "Do you feel comfortable enough for me to leave you alone?"

  "Yes. I don't know why I was so afraid."

  "Even some of my mothers are a little fearful their first time," the nurse remarked then, looked at her watch. "Although it's past visiting hours, under the circumstances, we're letting you have a little more time with Kiera. Another half-hour…okay?"

  "Promise," Ewyn replied.

  "I'll return then."

  "What time can I come tomorrow?"

  "Any time you want, the earlier the better. Normally, the mother would be with her during the day…"

  Ewyn stopped rocking, tears welling up in his eyes.

  "Sorry." The nurse dimmed the lights a little more and opened the door.

  "No. I have to get over it." Ewyn sighed. "Kiera needs me." The absence of motion must have awakened his niece because she started to squirm and make soft mewling noises. His gaze flew to her face to find her eyes fixed on him. "Can she see me?"

  "Yes, but focus is iffy."

  Ewyn smiled, leaned back, and set the chair in motion. "I'll be here bright and early, in time to give her breakfast." Relaxing, he hummed a lullaby he remembered hearing as a child. Kiera's eyes began to close before the nurse left the room.

  * * * *

  Oh, my God! Were they both dead? That wasn't supposed to happen.

  Teeth chattering, the shivering wouldn't stop, and squeezing into the drainage tunnel didn't help. The wind and the rain buffeting the hillside assisted the cold in seeping through the damp clothes and into the bones.

  My head…where are the damn pills! I can't think!

  Oh, God. Carolyn grabbed the gun. Why did she grab the gun? Damn it! The gun. Was it still in the car and what about the brat? Nicole was in bad shape, semi-conscious when I left her. So much blood, I couldn't get her out of the car. The child. It couldn't survive if Nicole died, could it? It would ruin everything. Carolyn wasn't supposed to die. She shouldn't have been there.

  Pills…did I take the damn pills? What went wrong? I can't think!

  Nicole's reappearance after it was too late for an abortion had been bad enough, but she came back a different woman. The little bitch looked more beautiful than remembered. They say motherhood changes some women. Moreover, she had returned more confident, defiant, and defensive. Why did she resist?

  Damn you, Nicole.

  All that money. She had it all, the selfish bitch. More money than one person would ever need. We could have shared. Oh, shit! With all her newfound confidence, did she think to change her will, or contact the family attorney with the intent?

  Oh-kay…calm down.

  If she didn't change her will and all three of them were dead, then the original still stands. If she did change it, who gets all the money. For sure, Carolyn is out of the running, leaving Uncle Ewyn or the child, if it survives, as beneficiaries. Hell. Need to find out if there's a new will.

  Damn her, damn her, damn her!

  After all those months spent trying to track her down, finally catching up with her on campus today seemed like a godsend. Now I could lose everything.

  "You're not going to win, bitch!" the voice screamed out into the night. "Do you hear me, Nicole?"

  * * * *

  On the drive to the family estate, Ewyn couldn't forget the experience of holding Kiera in his arms. He'd felt such an overwhelming sense of wellbeing, and in normal circumstances, a birth in the family would be cause for a lengthy celebration. Instead, he would deliver devastating news, which would overshadow the jubilation of birth. Still, he hoped Kiera's existence would minimize any adverse effects the deaths might have on Gemma.

  Before he left the hospital, feeling the need for support, he had called Mick, who had promised to meet him at the house. Except for Gemma, at the time, Mick was the closest thing to family Ewyn had. God, he missed his mother. Being temporary head of the family was a bitch. The family treating him like a baby for most of his life hadn't schooled him for the job. Nonetheless, fate had grandfathered him into the position of responsibility, and demanded he step up for Gemma and Kiera's sake.

  There were death notifications and funeral arrangements to make, and he had to prepare the household for Kiera's arrival, then deal with the police. Something about his nieces' accident bothered him. With no other cars involved, what made the girls run off a road they had driven hundreds of times. Surely not the rain when they had years of experience driving in the snow whenever they went up to the family estate in Big Bear. Unless Nicole was driving, and she went into labor…damn. He needed details and answers. He wanted closure.

  Mick or Taggart could point him in the right direction.

  Chapter 3

  Ewyn pulled onto the estate grounds and drove straight to the garage. Before getting out of his car, he glanced at his watch. For what was left of the night, he'd stay at the house, in case Gemma needed him.

  Sighing, he wearily climbed out of the car and strolled across the courtyard. He noticed most of the lights were on inside the house, picked up his pace, and entered through the kitchen. Rosa, the family's long-time housekeeper was there, bustling around filling coffee urns. Laid out on a nearby counter was an array of ingredients for cold sandwiches.

  "Hey, Rosa."

  The housekeeper whipped around to face him, tears streaming down her face. "Mister Ewyn, is it true? Something has happened to our girls?"

  "Yes." Ewyn went to her and hugged her, then held her at arm's-length. "I'd like you to be present when I talk to Gemma, then you can inform the rest of the staff." He started to leave but stopped. "Have Mick and Tag arrived?"<
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  "Yes. Mister Mick is in the office. I sent Myce to wake your aunt and her nurse." Rosa removed a handkerchief from her apron pocket and wiped her eyes. "This is bad. Mister Greg will be devastated when he finds out."

  "I know. But right now, we have to be concerned about Gemma."

  "This is true," Rosa said. "I'll have coffee and sandwiches ready soon. I have the flavored decaf for you."

  "Thanks, Rosa. Have everything taken up to Gemma's apartment."

  Headed for his brother's office, Ewyn ran his fingers through his hair in nervous agitation, then massaged tense neck muscles while trying to pull his thoughts together. What was he supposed to say to Gemma, or how? Blurt it out, procrastinate with a long-winded explanation, or…damn, he didn't have a clue, and could only hope Mick had some experience.

  He opened the office door and paused on the threshold. Mick, Taggart, MacGregor, and another man occupied the room. Frowning, Ewyn looked at the stranger.

  "Mick…"

  "I am so sorry about Niki and Caro," Mick said with a catch in his voice. He embraced Ewyn then stepped away. "It's not enough to compensate…" He broke off. "Sorry."

  Taggart and MacGregor offered their condolences then MacGregor introduced the stranger.

  Tall and lanky, the man had dark brown hair desperately in need of a haircut, a pencil thin moustache, and deep-set, dark brown eyes. Probably late thirties, early forties, the man was quite handsome, if you looked beyond his unkempt appearance. Ewyn experienced an instant dislike for the man.

  "Ewyn, this is Detective Sergeant Michael Patterson from the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department," MacGregor said. "He's heading up the investigation into your nieces' accident. Found him waiting at the gates when we arrived. Rosa wouldn't let him in."

  "Tried to tell me you weren't home," Patterson sneered. "Condolences, Calderone. Now, I have a few…"

  "Kelley," Ewyn corrected.

  "What? I thought…then who…" Patterson's voice stuttered to a stop. "Fine. Condolences, Kelley. Oh yeah, you're the uncle. Where is…uh--"

  "Stop!" Ewyn charged across the floor. Invading Patterson's space, he stopped mere inches from the man. The detective took a step backward. The man's snotty tone had Ewyn's stomach knotting and anger rising in his throat like bile. Fists clenching and unclenching, every muscle in his body tense, it strained his self-control not to hit the son of a bitch. "Save your goddamn condolences. Try showing some fuckin' respect," he gritted out from between clenched teeth. "Get the hell out of here."