compartmentalize the suffering he had to see in this line of work.
“No, it’s all right. Don’t worry about that.” She shook her head, dismissing it. “Steve was there.”
“Oh, how is he?”
“Steve is Steve.” She gave him a tight smile. “He wants me to give him custody of Cora.”
“I see.” Greg wasn’t entirely surprised to hear this. Custody was a complicated thing at the best of times, but it got worse when the children were so tiny. Everyone wanted to raise a baby. It was the kids who were old enough to have attitude and emotional issues that got shuffled around a lot.
“He was pretty pushy about it. Sara was... I don’t know how to describe her. She was pretty intense. I got the distinct impression that they expected me to hand Cora over, and they’d go home with her today.”
“Did they say that?”
“Not exactly.” Emily sighed and looked away for a moment. “I know I probably sound like a crazy person right now, but they kind of scared me.”
“No, you don’t sound crazy.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a grateful smile. “I just wanted to come by and pick your brain a little.”
“My pleasure.” He leaned back in his chair, and just then, the door opened again, and Joyce came in with a couple of towels from the women’s locker room.
“Thank you,” Emily said, taking one and shaking it out. She blotted her face and hair. Joyce slipped back out without a word.
Emily peeked down under the blanket at the sleeping baby and then let the towel fall to her lap. She looked at Greg silently for a long moment, worry creasing her brow. He let the silence stretch, waiting for her to speak.
“Greg, what happens in these cases?” she asked finally.
“You’re the guardian named in the will,” he said. “That makes you her legal guardian, and Steve can’t just bully you into changing that.”
She nodded. “Is that final?”
“Well...” He didn’t want to scare her, but he didn’t want to lie to her, either. “Nothing is ever entirely final, I suppose. Unless you adopt her.”
“Can Steve contest the will?” she asked.
“In theory. Do you think he’d go that far?”
Emily sighed. “I have no idea, but he was pretty focused on convincing me to give her up today at the funeral.”
A finger of irritation wormed through his stomach. He didn’t like the thought of someone trying to bully her, and it made him want to throw his weight around a little. Instead of voicing his feelings, he asked, “Did he threaten you?”
“No.” She laughed softly. “This is Steve we’re talking about. He got snide and condescending, but that was it. He’s my cousin, after all.”
Greg made a noncommittal sound. Yes, he remembered Steve well. He’d been both snide and condescending in high school, too. He’d never been cruel on the level of Richard Pike, but he’d made a couple of junior guys pretty miserable senior year, and Greg had taken it upon himself to stand up for them. Steve was a bully, and if there was one thing Greg could not abide, it was a bully.
“Do you want to raise Cora?” Greg asked, changing the subject.
“More than anything. I know this seems strange because I’m not exactly in a position to be taking children into my home, but I do. I’ve fallen in love with her. I don’t want to give her up.”
He nodded silently. Of course she didn’t. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that baby? The entire department here in Haggerston had fallen in love with her.
“Have you seen these sorts of cases before?” she asked, her full attention focused on his face.
He nodded slowly. “Yes, a few times.”
“What normally happens?”
“Well, normally, the parents have named the godparents in their will and nothing changes.”
She nodded, visibly relaxing. “Have you ever seen a will contested?”
Greg sighed. “It’s probably best not to worry about this sort of thing unless you have to.”
“Maybe so, but I’m worried now.” She didn’t look the least bit daunted. “What happens when the will gets contested?”
“It gets ugly,” he admitted. “Everyone loves the baby and wants to raise it. Everyone has a reason why the other people are a terrible choice. People say things they can’t take back and close-knit, loving families end up fractured. It can get really bad.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Her voice softened, and he had to lean forward with a creak of his chair to catch her words.
“That doesn’t mean that will happen to you,” he added. “You’re her legal guardian, okay? That hasn’t been contested.”
She nodded. “I know. Thanks.” She slipped his jacket off her shoulders and rose to her feet. “I appreciate this.”
Greg stood up, too, and he came around his desk, then sat on the edge of it. “I’m not a father,” he said. “But I deal with a lot of parents in this job.”
“Me, too.” She chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s true.” He shot her a grin. “Then you’ve probably been told the same things I’ve been told. Parents start worrying from birth. They worry about all sorts of worst-case scenarios, most of which never happen.”
“So don’t be silly?” she asked.
“Not at all.” He chuckled. “I was going to say that worrying is part of the package when you’re a parent. Maybe just realize that you’re not alone in your worries. Consider it more a welcome to the club.”
Emily’s warm gaze met his, and her eyes crinkled up into a smile. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.”
Greg felt a sudden wave of satisfaction. “Anytime.” He meant it more than she realized, he was sure.
Just then, Cora began to fuss, and Emily rocked the car seat gently. “I’d better get her home,” she said quietly. “I don’t have another bottle with me.”
“Take care.”
Emily turned toward the door and opened it.
“Oh, and Emily—”
She turned back, those deep brown eyes meeting his once more.
“Come by anytime, okay? I mean that.”
“Thanks.” She flashed him a smile. “I appreciate it.”
With that, she slipped out, and he listened to the sound of her heels clicking as she made her way through the station, the rhythm blending into the hustle and bustle of police activity. With a smile to himself, he turned back to his paperwork.
Chapter Four
A couple of days later, on a warm summer evening, Emily sat on the couch across from her two friends, Nina and Beth. Beth sat with her legs tucked up underneath her, her pregnant belly protruding out in front of her. She was only about six months along, but she was all tummy, as she put it. She had a mop of curly mouse-brown hair and two swollen bare feet that were normally swathed in Birkenstocks. She rubbed her stomach absently, looking over at Cora, who lay nestled in Nina’s arms.
Nina sat next to Beth, looking down at the tiny infant with a wistful look on her face. Her blond hair was cut short in a pixie cut, and her makeup was impeccable. With legs a mile long, Nina had pretty much everything that Emily envied.
“She’s