Chapter 3 - Eight Weeks Too Soon
The nearest hospital was twenty-seven minutes away in good weather.
Tonight, the roads were covered in snow.
And someone was waiting outside the estate with a rifle.
Serena refused to panic.
That was what nurses did.
They converted fear into tasks.
“Clean towels.”
Matthias stared at her.
“What?”
“Towels. Blankets. Find out if your mother still keeps oxygen in your father’s medical room.”
“You are not delivering here.”
“I’m not planning to.”
Another contraction seized her.
She gripped his sleeve.
“Five minutes apart.”
His face lost more color.
Roman entered.
“Armored vehicle is ready.”
“Route?”
“Cleared as far as Route 120.”
Serena shook her head.
“If the shooter anticipated evacuation—”
“We’re not using the main road.”
Matthias looked at Roman.
“What route?”
“The old service road behind the stables.”
“That road hasn’t been plowed.”
“It has now.”
Serena stared.
“You plowed a private road in ten minutes?”
Roman shrugged.
“I brought practical people.”
Despite everything, Serena almost laughed.
They moved her through the kitchen to a reinforced SUV.
Matthias climbed in beside her.
Roman took the front passenger seat.
Two vehicles formed an escort.
The convoy moved into the snow.
Serena focused on breathing.
Matthias held her hand.
She wanted to pull away.
She didn’t.
Not because she had forgiven him.
Because labor had a brutal way of simplifying priorities.
Three miles from the estate, headlights appeared behind them.
Fast.
Roman looked through the rear window.
“Company?”
His driver shook his head.
“No.”
The pursuing SUV accelerated.
Matthias pushed Serena down.
“Stay below the windows.”
A shot struck the rear quarter panel.
Serena screamed.
Matthias covered her with his body.
Roman’s escort vehicle dropped behind.
The road curved sharply.
The pursuing SUV attempted to follow.
Its tires lost traction.
It slid sideways into a snowbank.
Roman’s driver accelerated.
Serena stared at Matthias.
He was still covering her.
“You’re crushing me.”
He immediately moved.
“Sorry.”
She almost smiled.
Then another contraction hit.
“Three minutes.”
Matthias stared.
“Is that bad?”
“At thirty-two weeks? It isn’t wonderful.”
They reached St. Catherine Medical Center fourteen minutes later.
Serena was rushed into labor and delivery.
Matthias tried to follow.
A nurse stopped him.
“Relationship?”
“Husband.”
Serena heard.
The word felt complicated now.
She was examined.
Two centimeters dilated.
Contractions regular.
Fetal heartbeat stable.
The obstetrician began medication intended to slow labor and ordered steroids to help the baby’s lungs mature.
Only after the immediate crisis stabilized did Serena allow herself to cry.
She lay in the dim hospital room with monitors strapped around her belly.
Matthias sat beside the bed.
His coat was torn at the shoulder.
Snow had melted into his hair.
For once, he did not look powerful.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the threat?” he asked.
Serena looked toward the window.
“Because I didn’t know if I could trust you.”
The answer destroyed something in his face.
“I’m your husband.”
“That’s a title.”
He swallowed.
“I didn’t sleep with Fiona.”
“Maybe.”
“I swear.”
“But you lied.”
“Yes.”
“You said Boston.”
“Yes.”
“You hid meetings.”
“Yes.”
“You let another woman become close enough to our marriage that she knew where you were, what you were doing, and apparently what jewelry would hurt me most.”
Matthias looked down.
“I thought secrecy protected you.”
Serena laughed bitterly.
“Every man in your world says that right before his secrets destroy somebody.”
He had no answer.
At 3:40 a.m., Roman entered.
“The shooter is dead.”
Serena stiffened.
“Police?”
“No.”
Matthias gave Roman a warning look.
Roman corrected himself.
“The shooter died after the crash.”
“Convenient,” Serena muttered.
Roman placed a folder on the table.
“He had photographs.”
Matthias opened it.
Serena.
At the hospital where she worked.
At her obstetrician’s office.
Buying baby clothes.
Standing outside her attorney’s building.
Matthias became frighteningly still.
Then he reached the final photograph.
It showed Serena leaving the attorney’s office three weeks earlier.
On the back:
SHE HAS THE COPY.
Serena frowned.
“What copy?”
Roman looked at her.
“The document you received.”
“It was a photocopy.”
“Apparently whoever sent it believed it was more important than that.”
Matthias examined the page again.
“There are markings around the estate diagram.”
Serena remembered.
Tiny numbers.
She had assumed they were measurements.
Roman photographed the document and enlarged it.
The numbers formed groups.
Account numbers.
Matthias looked at him.
“Jesus.”
Roman nodded.
“The threat wasn’t only a warning.”
“What was it?”
“A key.”
The document Serena had been carrying contained enough information to locate Hensley’s hidden financial network.
Whoever sent it had turned Serena into the most dangerous witness in Connecticut without telling her.
Then Serena’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
Matthias reached for it.
Serena stopped him.
“My phone.”
She answered.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then a woman’s voice came through.
“Serena?”
She recognized it.
“Fiona.”
Matthias stood.
Serena put the call on speaker.
Fiona was crying.
“You need to listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“I made a mistake.”
Roman moved toward the door, signaling his men.
Fiona continued.
“Hensley knows about the numbers.”
“Then why did you steal the file?”
“Because he has my brother.”
Silence.
Fiona’s voice broke.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
Serena closed her eyes.
“The necklace?”
“Hensley gave it to me. He told me to wear it tonight.”
“Why?”
“To make you angry enough to leave.”
Serena stared at Matthias.
Fiona whispered:
“He wanted you outside the estate when the shooting started.”
Then a man’s voice sounded in the background.
Fiona gasped.
The call ended.
Matthias looked at Roman.
“Trace it.”
“Already happening.”
Serena’s monitor suddenly accelerated.
The baby’s heartbeat climbed.
A nurse rushed in.
Then another.
Serena gripped the sheets.
The obstetrician entered moments later.
“Serena, we’re seeing fetal distress.”
Matthias stood helplessly beside the wall.
The doctor looked at the monitor.
Then at Serena.
“If this doesn’t settle quickly, we may need to deliver tonight.”
Matthias’s hand found Serena’s.
This time she held on.
May you like
Because whatever remained of their marriage could wait.
Their daughter could not.
