Multiples Mystery

The memory of her distant fierce stance still made him smile, but now was not the time for false bravado. Now was the time for candor.

Part of him said he should find someone else in the department to look for this guy, someone not fond of the man’s wife.

Someone who wasn’t involved.

Someone who didn’t die a little inside every time he saw her.

He gritted his teeth and tossed that kind of thinking aside.

He’d do this as her friend in an unofficial way. He’d do whatever he could to give her back to the man she’d chosen.

The phone rang and he flipped it open, expecting Faith with news about Anthony. Instead he learned his snitch—the guy he’d been going to meet within a few hours—had just taken a knife in the gut down near the shipping docks. He got in the car, put the flashing light on the roof, turned on the siren and pulled into the late afternoon traffic.

The mystery of Anthony Capri would have to wait.

THE SPECIAL CARE NURSERY looked like something out of a sci-fi movie to Olivia, with machines and tubes and isolettes that resembled miniature spaceships. To her relief, on this, the second day of their lives, all four of her children were doing well.

True, they were all under UV light as a precaution for jaundice, but that was to be expected. They all also wore tiny nose prongs for oxygen and Brianna’s heart rate tended to drop on occasion, so she’d acquired an additional monitor; but the consensus seemed to be her condition wasn’t life-threatening and was nothing that would keep them from taking her home.

Taking them all home.

The first time Olivia had come into this ward, she’d been afraid to touch her children and had stared at them for several moments before tentatively running a finger along Juliet’s tiny arm. Twenty-four hours later, she was comfortable with them, used to how petite they were, knowledgeable about how much they needed loving strokes despite the tubes and other paraphernalia.

Snuggling them against her bare skin as she took turns nursing them felt natural and healing. Faith and her mother helped feed them with bottles, doing what Anthony should have been doing if he wasn’t still MIA. All three of them sang to the babies, caressed them, and talked to them. Olivia’s love for her children, as well as admiration for her selfless family and her best friend, Faith, grew with every hour.

The good news was that thanks to Zac, the police had made inquiries. Anthony wasn’t in any hospital or morgue in the state. The bad news was the same. If he wasn’t dead or dying, then he’d decided to cut his losses and leave. And though she hadn’t seen Zac since he showed up in her room, she’d spoken to him on the phone. He was in the middle of a case, he explained, and promised he’d come talk to her as soon as he could. Something in his voice warned her she better be prepared for news she didn’t want to hear.

There were only a couple of possibilities, really. Either Anthony’s dead body remained undiscovered or he’d taken off. As he wasn’t exactly the kind to hike into the wilderness, get bitten by a snake and crawl under a bush to die, that left the other.

She caught sight of her hand and the big Asscher-cut platinum diamond engagement ring she’d just slipped back on her finger that morning. Talk about impractical for a new mother. Why had Anthony insisted on such an outrageous ring? Better question—why had she swallowed her own modest taste and agreed to it?

She couldn’t think about any of that now. Instead she gazed down at Antoinette’s downy head and admired her seashell ear and her velvety skin and tried to project reassuring, calm thoughts.

The doctor said they could leave in three days. Again, she tried to clear her mind but the fact was irrefutable. The day she’d longed for was quickly approaching. Very soon, she would return home to Westerly with four small but healthy babies.

And no husband.

ZAC ENTERED the hospital lobby to a crowd consisting of a couple of camera crews and a slew of reporters, one of whom he recognized from the Westerly Herald. He found Faith standing near a wall and joined her.

“Any news about Anthony?”

“No. Any news here?”

“Nothing.” She glanced forward. He followed her gaze to a long table behind which sat Olivia flanked by her mother on one side and her two youngest sisters, Megan and Tabitha, on the other.

Olivia wore a red sweater with a scooped neckline. Her throat looked like satin, her breasts larger than they’d been before, filling the sweater in such a way it was hard not to gape. She was wearing more makeup than he’d ever seen her wear—he detected Megan’s liberal hand with eyeliner and lipstick. Her hair glistened under the lights and although her mother and sisters were attractive women, Olivia outshone them by a million watts.

“You look like hell,” Faith said from his side.

“Thanks.”

“That’s the same suit you were wearing the day before yesterday.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Did you catch the guy who knifed your guy?”

“We think his wife did it. Hard to blame her. The guy was cheating on her with two different women. It isn’t my problem anymore, though.”

Faith was silent for a moment and then gasped. “You took the sheriff’s job in Westerly!”

“Accepted this morning.”

“That’s great. I bet you’re glad you took Dad’s advice and didn’t sell your house, aren’t you?”

Zac smiled. He hadn’t sold his house for one reason and it had nothing to do with advice from his father. “Did I miss anything here?”

“They’re just getting started. Olivia’s mother has been chatting up the reporters. She gave permission for them to take a picture of the babies and Olivia is steamed about it.”

The first questions concerned the births and deliveries with a heavy emphasis on the long odds against a natural occurring quadruplet conception. Olivia politely responded to the questions, but she was definitely lacking enthusiasm. Her mother, on the other hand, expanded on Olivia’s terse replies. The two sisters seemed to be suffering stage fright and sat there with deer-in-headlights stares.

Inevitably, the questions moved on to inquiries about the father. Where was he? What did he think of having four children? What about his family? All dead, what a shame. When they sensed a story behind the fact that Anthony wasn’t at the hospital, the questions got more pointed and Olivia just shrugged.

But not her mom. She was prepared. She spoke clearly into the microphone as she said, “Olivia’s husband is unfortunately away on business.”

Olivia scanned the room as her mother spoke. Her gaze landed on Zac with an almost physical jolt. He knew she was desperate for information. He had little to tell her, but her reaction upon seeing him hadn’t gone unnoticed by a nearby cameraman who turned the camera on Zac. It seemed everyone in the room swiveled their heads in his direction. Zac resisted the urge to throw an arm across his face. A reporter shouted, “Is this man your husband, Mrs. Capri?”

“He’s just a friend,” Olivia’s mother said before Olivia could respond. Juliet produced a large, professional-looking wedding picture of Anthony and Olivia. That surprised Zac as he’d heard the photographer’s studio burned to the ground before the photographs were developed. Nevertheless, Juliet had managed to salvage a picture and she held it up. The cameraman zeroed in on it.

“This man is Olivia’s husband, Anthony Capri, a very successful entrepreneur,” Juliet said with pride. Zac didn’t really think Juliet was a snob, but when her husband had died, she’d gone from being a rich woman to being poor as a church mouse. Olivia’s marrying Anthony Capri must have thrilled her beyond reason.

“You’ve only been married a few months, isn’t that true, Mrs. Capri?” one of the reporters asked.

“Yes.”

“If he’s so successful, why didn’t he take time off for such an important event?” This came from a woman reporter on the side.

Olivia’s dark eyes flashed. “I know he wanted to be here.”

“Where did you say he went?”

“I didn’t,” she said, doubt sneaking into her voice. “He didn’t have a chance to tell me.”

It appeared all the reporters, who had been growing bored with another multiple baby story, smelled fresh blood. “Would you say your husband is a secretive man?”

“Absolutely not,” Olivia said immediately, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. She squared her shoulders and added, “Anthony tells me everything. We’re partners, there are no secrets between us. It’s just that lately I’ve been out of the loop. I’m sure you understand.”

Partners. Did Olivia really believe she and Anthony were partners?