That was what she did when she didn’t want to admit he had a point.
There was no way he could tell her that Bridget was Sydney’s mother. Not when Bridget not only didn’t know yet but also thought that her baby had died. If Jessica discovered the truth, she would find a way to make Bridget realize it as well. Before Aiden was ready to tell her.
And when he considered the fact there was a man in town looking to hurt people—including Bridget—there was no way he could put Sydney at risk.
Aiden was already concerned over the level of involvement he’d had so far. If things got worse, he’d have to figure out a plan. Like sending Elexa and Sydney to stay with Tate and Savannah on their vacation with Eric and Millie’s kids. Sydney would have fun, Elexa would be with her stepdad, and he would have the peace of mind she was safe. So long as Aiden could figure out how to make sure they got there without risk.
But send his child to Hawaii with friends?
Even if she was in danger here, it would still be hard to let her go.
“You think someone is in there?”
He realized he’d stopped in front of the trailer. “It’s worth checking out.” He pulled his gun and grabbed the handle to swing the door wide, then sidestepped.
Jess entered first. “You called it.”
He stepped in behind her. “Clear the place first. Then tell me how I was right.”
When they were sure there was no one inside hiding, he turned to look at what she’d seen first. Piles of bandages covered in what looked like dried blood lay in the kitchen sink and on the counter. Pizza boxes. Empty cans of a drink Aiden hadn’t touched in years since he decided he didn’t need that kind of temptation with a child in the house. In his life. Some people could handle more than he could, but he knew himself and it wasn’t worth the risk.
“You think this was that Clarke guy they’re all looking for?”
Aiden continued to assess the living area of the old trailer. The couches had no cushions and there was only threadbare carpet where the bed should’ve been. “If he’s been staying here, then he’s been sleeping on the floor.”
“We’ve seen worse than this.”
“True.” He turned again. “There’s nothing here that will indicate who it was. Unless we set up a stakeout and wait for him to come back. Which he may never do.”
“I’ll radio in and see what Basuto wants. Maybe evidence collection to get DNA samples so we can ID who was here.”
She wandered outside while Aiden thought over the possibility of this Clarke guy actually going to trial. It had seemed, back at Tate’s office, that both Millie and Bridget were perfectly okay with the man targeting them never having to answer for himself in a courtroom.
Whether that meant he ended up in a body bag or somewhere else—like, disappeared altogether—Aiden didn’t know what he was supposed to think.
He knew what he was supposed to do as a cop. The question was what he was supposed to do as Sydney’s father and the man who couldn’t let the idea of her mother go.
Bridget needed to know her child was alive, and that he had raised her this whole time. That he was fully committed to continuing to do that. The fact she could take him to court and demand restitution for the wrong done to her, even though it hadn’t been his fault, worried him. A sympathetic mother who had missed six years of her child’s life through no fault of her own, who was desperate to raise her now, would likely win considerably in a custody battle.
He could be completely selfish and never tell her, but that would make him no better than whoever did this to her. He might get what he wanted. Only, through that, everyone else would lose. And in the end, he would realize he’d lost as well.
It was absolutely not the right time to tell her. But he would.
As soon as he was able.
“I got a bag from the car. Basuto says get the evidence we need and get back to the office. We’re supposed to sit down with the feds and go over everything. Eric is going to get caught up to speed later.”
After Aiden and Jess made sure there was no one hiding anywhere else in the old man’s backyard, they chatted with him for a few minutes and then