Roman's Vow (Riley's Pride #4) - Sandra R Neeley Page 0,71

answered, trying her best to look serious.

Then Darcie had an idea. “You know, I could read to your baby after I fold his blankets. If you think he’d like that.”

“I usually read to him every day, but you know, I’m feeling like he might like to hear a different voice. And since you’re his cousin and all, I think it should be your voice he hears today. So, let’s do that. After you help me fold his blankets and put them in his playpen, you can choose a book and read to him,” Yvette said.

“Okay!” Darcie said. Then she turned to Roman. “I’m going to help!”

“I heard. I had no doubt you’d be a big help,” Roman said, reaching out and tugging lightly on the end of her ponytail. “We have to get going, though, so you’re not late for school.”

“Okay,” Darcie said. “Is there anything you want us to bring you when I come back?”

“You know what? I would love a peanut butter and apple jelly sandwich. But I don’t have any apple jelly. Could you bring me some apple jelly this afternoon?” Yvette asked.

“Can we, Daddy?” Darcie asked, looking over her shoulder at Roman.

“We can. We’ll bring it,” he answered.

“We will!” Darcie said excitedly to Yvette. “I’ll see you when I’m finished with school.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Yvette said.

Yvette stood there and watched while Darcie turned and went back down the steps toward Roman. She winked at Roman who winked back. Then she smiled to herself as she closed and locked her door before she went back into the kitchen to finish making her tea. As she returned to the living room she looked over at the stack of blankets she’d messed up the night before in anticipation of Darcie coming to offer help this morning. She set her tea on the coffee table and walked over to the end of the sofa and tangled them up even more, then pushed them into a small pile of soft, pastel multi-colored baby blankets, before settling into the opposite end of the sofa, reaching for the remote and her cup of tea.

~~~

The sound of heels clicking echoed down the corridor, causing both police officers to glance toward the sound as it approached from the elevators.

A woman dressed in a cream colored day suit, complete with matching hat and shoes, looked as though she’d stepped out of the 1940’s. She smiled pleasantly and greeted all the hospital staff that happened to pass her as she made her way toward them.

“She’s back,” the first officer said under his breath.

“Yeah, but this time our orders are different than last,” his partner replied. “We’re supposed to send her to the Sergeant.”

They didn’t move from their post. They returned their gaze to the wall across from the door they stood guarding and pretended they didn’t know she was coming in their direction.

“Gentlemen,” she said as she approached.

Both officers looked her way.

“Ma’am,” one of them said.

“I suppose you’re going to keep me from visiting my son again today? You do realize that it’s an affront to humankind for their own officers of the peace to keep a mother from seeing her injured son?”

“Ma’am, we have our orders. He’s under arrest for murder. He cannot have visitors. Once he is moved to a holding facility, then you can see him on the appointed visitation days,” the second officer said.

She began crying. Obviously being overly dramatic as huge, alligator tears ran down her face and she sobbed so hard her body threatened to collapse. “Please!” she begged. “I just need to see him, to know that he’s okay! Is it true that he was found left for dead in the street like an animal? What kind of person would do such a thing?” she asked through her sobs.

“Ma’am, we’re not at liberty to discuss the case. We are simply here to keep him in custody as well as insure his safety.”

“Please!” she begged. “My baby wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not anyone! He shouldn’t be in custody. Couldn’t you just bend the rules for a split second? Just let me in to see him for a moment?” she begged.

The first officer looked at the second, and they seemed to have some kind of silent conversation before the first officer spoke to her. “Ma’am, I don’t even know if you’re truly related to him. You could just be claiming to be his mother.”

“I am most certainly his mother!” she claimed, opening her purse and taking out her wallet. “Here is my I.D.,