Expecting to Die

Not now. This can’t be happening now. It’s too early for the baby. This is still
false labor. It has to be.
“There. Look at that,” Luke said, when his eye caught the television screen.
On the local news was footage of the most recent Big Foot “sighting” via Carl
Jeffe’s drone. “This thing is just getting bigger and bigger, and Bianca is being
edged out by that lying bitch.” The television screen changed, and he snagged up

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the remote, hitting a button to turn on the sound as he flopped onto the couch
next to his daughter. On the screen, Lara Haas was being rolled down the
sidewalk in a wheelchair, the front facade of Northern General rising behind her,
both of her parents hurrying to keep up with the attendant.
“I’m just grateful to be alive,” she was saying as a microphone was thrust into
her face. The shot widened as the cameraman backed up, and Barclay Sphinx
appeared to hand Lara the bouquet of flowers and balloons Pescoli had
witnessed firsthand. The producer was smiling and saying how thankful he was
that Lara hadn’t been hurt in the attack. Then, looking squarely into the camera’s
eye, he told the audience that “this brave girl” was integral to the filming of Big
Foot Territory: Montana! and her story would be told in a series of episodes.
“What a two-faced bastard! He has a contract with Bianca and he just nullifies
it. Damn it all to hell!” Lucky was livid, his face flushed with color, his gaze
fixed on the television, while out of the corner of her eye, through the window,
Pescoli noticed headlights flashing through the trees. Santana! Oh, God, please.
From the spot he’d claimed on the sectional, Luke was still ranting. “We had a
deal and now . . . what the fuck? The man’s a lying scumbag, I’m telling ya! A
double-crossing son of a bitch.”
“Enough!” Pescoli reached over the back of the couch, yanked the remote
from his hand, felt another pain start to increase, and clicked the television off.
“Why didn’t you call Sphinx? Talk to him?”
“You don’t think I did? Of course I did. And I told him that Bianca was totally
committed to the show and the series, that she would do anything, any damned
thing to be a part of it.”
“Are you nuts? Isn’t that like making a deal with the devil?”
“For the love of God, you are so . . . so suspicious!”
“It’s my job.”
“Bullshit!” he roared, jabbing an accusatory finger at his ex-wife. “This is her
shot, Regan! Her chance of a lifetime. Don’t you get it? I’m just supporting her
any way possible and you should, too. I told Sphinx that we all were behind her
and the project a hundred percent, that we’d all back her.”
“Not me,” Pescoli said.
“Why not, Mom?” Bianca twisted on the couch to take in the fight, and she
glared at her mother.
“It’s not you, honey. I’ll always have your back, you know that. But I don’t
like this whole shaky ‘reality’ show, and I use the term loosely, so for once I
agree with your father here: I don’t trust Barclay Sphinx. The difference is that
I’m not willing to jump in to play ball with him. And I certainly don’t like it that
you’re caught in the middle.”

---

Bianca’s eyes began to sheen with unshed tears. “But I want this, Mom. More
than anything.”
Luke was nodding vigorously. “’Course you do, honey. And it doesn’t matter
what Mom says, Sphinx understands what I’m talking about, that you are a
thousand-percent committed. And if he doesn’t come through . . .” Luke was
shaking his head.
“If he doesn’t come through, what’re you going to do?” Gritting her teeth
against the contraction, she forced out, “Look, Luke, I don’t think Barclay
Sphinx broke any laws and if you have a problem with the contract Bianca
signed, then hire a lawyer!”
“Not good enough,” he growled. “Bianca’s going to the filming tonight, and
that’s that. We’ll see how things shake out.”
“You need to leave. We’ll deal with this,” she said as she heard the garage
door roll open, and the pain increased, intense pressure building. Oh. Jesus. This
time, she sucked her breath in through her teeth and grimaced. “Oh, God.”
“Mom?” Bianca said, her eyes filled with worry.
“I’m okay.” No, no, I’m definitely not.
The back door opened.
Santana and Jeremy walked in.
Just as her damned water broke.
* * *
Kywin Bell was in the wind.
As if he’d known that Alvarez was onto him, the kid had disappeared, Alvarez
thought, as she drove back to the station. She’d tried to call his phone. No
answer. She’d contacted his friends and gotten nowhere. The same had been true
with his brother, Kip, who’d answered with, “Leave us the hell alone.” Kywin
had been fired from his job and the place was closed for the night. None of the
road deputies had reported seeing his vehicle.
He had to be in hiding. As if he’d felt the noose tightening and had gone
underground. Well, he wouldn’t stay hidden forever.
She pulled into the sheriff’s office parking lot and headed inside. Pescoli
hadn’t returned her call, which was odd, but the woman did have a family.
Alvarez, on the other hand, lived alone, with her pets. O’Keefe stayed over when
he was in town or she visited him, but, for the most part, she was married to her
job. That . . . and her inability to get over the death of Dan Grayson. The
unrequited feelings she’d had for her former boss had put some strain on their
relationship. Grayson’s ghost still lingered around these halls, and she was

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susceptible to it. Especially at night, when the station was quieter and his office
was dark.
And Dylan was no fool. He knew she struggled with emotions she couldn’t or
wouldn’t name. Yet, he loved her still. “Idiot!” she admonished herself.
Their relationship was far from an ideal situation, she thought as she parked
and stepped into the warm August night. The air was dry and dusty, but there
was the promise of thunderstorms on the horizon, a small current of electricity
that she felt in the stiff breeze that scattered leaves and debris across the parking
lot.
Inside, the offices were quiet, a few detectives working, several road deputies
collected in the lunchroom before they headed out for the night. Tonight,
however, a light emanated from beneath the sheriff’s door, and she paused with
her hand on the panels. Maybe she should let Blackwater know of the progress
they were making.