Sugar Baby

Birthplace of Danny’s father.

“Thank you.” she said stiffly.

“See you at seven.”

Quietly she replaced the receiver. Above her, the ceiling fan sliced slowly through the humid air. After a minute, she looked up and sighed.

Are you satisfied, Carter?

SHE’D MET Carter McMollere when she was a student at Louisiana State University after her mother died. It was her second attempt to obtain her degree. An only child of divorced parents, she never knew her father except through her mother’s bitter memories. Shy, imaginative and intelligent, she had studied liberal arts at LSU that first time around, but left before earning her degree to care for her mother who’d become ill. When her mother died, Claire reenrolled and like a bird out of a cage, she wanted to try everything she’d missed.

She’d missed love. Loving. Sharing the singular joy of passion with a special man. She’d fallen eagerly into Carter’s hands. He’d made her feel special for the first time in her life. When she was with him, the long years devoted to caring for her mother seemed part of another lifetime, one she was only too happy to forget. Carter had painted a glowing picture of their future together, and she had happily pictured a life as his wife. He’d been vague about his background. She never knew Sugarland by name. She’d learned later it was one of the few sizable sugarcane operations remaining in southern Louisiana. In her naiveté, Claire had believed every promise Carter made. She’d been heartbroken to learn that he was a married man, and had broken off with him that same night.

It was even worse when she discovered that she was pregnant. Believing Carter had a right to know, she’d phoned to tell him. He’d immediately urged her to get an abortion. Painful as it had been to discover that her lover had a wife, to hear him coolly suggest that she destroy their baby was devastating. Everything in her rejected the idea. She had wept an ocean of tears before finally deciding that Carter wasn’t worth such heartfelt despair. He might casually dismiss the tiny life growing inside her, but she never could. From that moment, the baby was all that mattered. Her baby.

The bond that was forged then with her unborn son had sustained her through all the misery and fear of the months that followed. She’d lost her job as a teacher in a small parochial school when her condition became obvious. She’d been forced to leave her friends and relocate to Houston. Her pregnancy had been a difficult one and she’d gone through it alone. But good can come from bad things and Daniel was a constant source of joy to her. And now, with Carter dead, the McMolleres wanted their only grandson.

They weren’t going to take her son away from her.

“Mommy, Mommy! Come quick.” Danny dashed in from the balcony and grabbed her hand. He began tugging her toward the French doors. “That policeman just killed somebody! Come and see!”

“Danny, don’t be ridiculous!” With only a glance at him, she pulled away and headed for her luggage. That’s what happened when kids were allowed to watch unlimited violence on TV. Their imaginations went wild.

“Mommy, please, this is not radickalous.” He stood before her looking distressed. “Those men were fighting! Honest, they were.”

“What men?” She bent to unzip her cosmetics bag.

“Those men outside,” Danny repeated impatiently. “The policeman had a gun. He shot somebody. I saw it.” He was nodding his head furiously, his eyes round as marbles. “I did, Mommy.”

“Policemen don’t shoot people in a hotel courtyard, Danny.” She found shampoo and body gel and tossed them on the bed. Maybe a cool shower would banish her headache and refresh her. Even though she was meeting the McMolleres under duress, she didn’t want to look frazzled.

Danny caught her hand and tugged on it. “Mommy, please come and look. That man fell on the ground, honest. I bet he’s hurt really bad. I bet he’s bleeding!”

“Not now, Danny. Please.” She drew her hand away, thinking her first task when she got home would be a phone call to Ryan’s parents. Somehow, they would have to keep the children away from the violent TV programs.

“You gotta look, Mommy. What if he comes up here and shoots us, too?”

She chuckled in spite of herself. “Come on, honey. Nobody’s going to shoot anybody.”

“But he did!” Danny insisted in exasperation.

She ruffled his dark hair. “And you saw it?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Danny, we’re on the third floor.”

“But I could see ‘em good from where I was standin’. The one who got shot had a T-shirt like mine—you know—my Olympics T-shirt. And he had a ponytail.”

“A ponytail?” Claire repeated.

“Yes, like Jason,” Danny replied, referring to the college student who serviced the pool at their condo.

Claire hesitated. Danny seemed so certain. “And where were these people?”

“Way over by the bushes.” He pointed as if she could see from inside the room. “I had to lean real far out.”

She frowned at him. “Not on the balcony railing, I hope.”

“It’s okay, Mommy,” he said confidently. “It has these places you can put your feet. Don’t worry, I was careful.”

Claire marched over to the balcony to see for herself. Her heart dropped. The ornate wrought-iron did indeed have places a small foot could wedge into. Standing there, Danny was raised beyond a safe level. He could have plunged three floors!

She turned and pulled him into her arms. “Danny, you mustn’t ever do such a thing again! The railing is old. It isn’t meant to be climbed on. What if you’d fallen?”

He looked crestfallen. “I wasn’t gonna fall, Mommy,” he muttered. “I was just lookin’ at those men. They were actin’ really bad, just like on TV. They were hollerin’ and all!”

She shook her head helplessly. Obviously she was not going to convince Danny that he’d been imagining things. “You think you saw a policeman shoot somebody?”

He nodded with new life. “I did! Honest!” He caught her hand again and began tugging her along. “Right over there on the path.”

Claire let him lead her to the balcony. She could see a large rubber plant flourishing in the lee between the main wing of the hotel and the covered walkway leading to the pool. It was almost directly beneath their room. To one side was a space obviously designated for housekeeping. The lush vegetation probably obscured the flagstone pathway from ground level, but the view was good from this spot three floors above.

There was nothing there.

“I don’t see anything, honey.”

Beside her, Danny put his foot into the wrought-iron toeholds, ready to climb. “Danny!” She grabbed him and set him firmly back on the floor. “What did I just say?”

“I was gonna show you where.”

“There’s nothing there, Danny. Even if the men were standing where you say they were, I don’t think a gunshot would go unnoticed.”

“Maybe nobody heard it but me.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “How could that be, honey? Guns make a big noise when they’re fired.”

He stared at his feet. “You think I made it up.”

“Well…” With a finger beneath his chin, she tilted his small face up.

“I betcha Ryan would believe me if I told him.”

She sighed. “I believe you think you saw something.” She paused a minute. “What made you say he was a policeman? Was he in uniform?”

“No, but I saw a badge. On his belt. We had some policemen visit us at school and they said not all cops have a uniform, but all cops have a badge.”

To humor him, she asked, “Where did the gun come from if he wasn’t in uniform?”