Fatal Move

By Diane Cobalt

After successfully navigating a harrowing few months, Jennifer and Beau Baldwin can't wait to move into their dream home. But before they even finish unpacking, Jennifer is warned that a woman in her new book club is obsessed with their house.
Meanwhile, Beau is given a warning of his own. His high-powered, seductive new boss is determined to break up his marriage. As he tries to manage this toxic work relationship, he discovers he shares a dark secret with this woman.
Jennifer's concern about the stalker and Beau's anxiety over his new boss become secondary when Jennifer is contacted by Border Patrol Agent Manuel Garcia. Manuel saved Beau's life and is now asking Jennifer for a startling favor. Jennifer doesn't know whether to accept Manuel's unconventional proposal, a proposal she must keep from her husband. Will her decision result in a Fatal Move for the Baldwins?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diane Cobalt
• Release date: Dec 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370457472

Diane Cobalt

I grew up in the Midwest and began writing fiction in second grade. But winters were cold, so I moved to Dallas to attend Southern Methodist University. While studying business at SMU, one of my short stories was published in "Criteria", a journal of exemplary Freshman writing. Years later, I returned to my Alma Mater to take several creative writing courses. Since then, I have raised two sons and worked as the Chief Financial Officer for a production company. Currently, during the summer months, I teach water aerobics in the Dallas area. My love for wine, water and writing led me to start my own website: winewaterandwords.com. There I post reviews of wines, wineries and wine bars along with reviews of islands throughout the world that I have been fortunate enough to visit. I still live in the Dallas area with my husband whom I met while at SMU!

Book preview

Prologue

The door swung open slowly in response to her knock. She was expecting a crowded room packed with boisterous college students. Instead, she was greeted by silence wafting through a smoky haze. Hesitantly, she stepped across the threshold and surveyed the room. The once builder’s beige carpet was matted and stained with dark circles. The walls, swirled with white paint, displayed no pictures. Cheap mini-blinds dangled askew at the windows. To her left was the living room furnished with a burnt orange, crushed velour sofa, a walnut laminate square coffee table and a black vinyl recliner. Empty beer bottles and cigarette butts littered the table. A cutout portion of the wall behind the recliner revealed a small kitchen.

I’m glad you came. Come on in. The voice who greeted her belonged to Skip Johnson, a new pledge of Sigma Epsilon Psi. Skip sat next to her in Art History class. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have bothered talking to a freshman, but Skip looked like he was at least twenty. And his smile radiated at least a hundred watts! She eagerly looked forward to their twice a week banter about politics, religion and professors. Skip often confided in her about the girls he was dating. He complained that many lacked the substance he was looking for in The One. Now, here she was standing alone with him in an off-campus apartment. His smile was bright, but the dreary surroundings squelched the usual hundred wattage down to a dull forty. She wasn’t sure if Skip considered her a date or just a friend from class.

Come on back. We’re just getting started. Skip placed his hand on her left shoulder and guided her down a dark, narrow hallway. Two closed doors awaited them at the end of the hall. Light escaped from underneath one.

Who’s we? she whispered softly.

Shhh! You’ll see. Skip held her hand as he stepped in front of her and knocked on the door to his right three times followed quickly by a thud. The light coming from beneath the door was instantly extinguished.

I thought this was supposed to be a party, Skip, she whispered, wondering why she wasn’t speaking aloud.

It was so dark she could barely see Skip put his finger up to his lips, signaling her to be silent. Oh, God, she thought, this must be some juvenile pledge prank. She had forgotten that Skip’s initiation into Sigma Epsilon Psi was just weeks away. Sig Psi was the house on campus. Their members were known to be good-looking, clean-cut rich guys who held top positions in organizations on campus. Whatever this prank was, it couldn’t be too bad. After all, this fraternity had been labeled the milk-and-cookie boys.

The door didn’t open after Skip’s secret knock so Skip repeated the series of taps and loudly stated, We are ready, Master.

Master? If she didn’t feel so uneasy, she would have laughed. Milk-and-cookie boys or not, this hardly seemed like something Skip would do. Oh well, she would play along. She hadn’t had a date since last semester, probably due to her weight. At a campus overrun with svelte coeds, she was lucky if a guy would even look in her 160-pound direction.

Is the candidate with you, Brother? boomed a voice from the other side of the door.

Yes, Master, Skip replied in a monotone voice.

Then enter.

Skip turned the fake brass knob and pushed open the door.

The strong scent of marijuana mixed with the malodorous mildew smell unique to Sigma Psi members who lived in their fraternity house greeted her. She hadn’t noticed the distinctive scent of marijuana when she first entered the apartment so someone must have just lit up. Skip led her into the middle of the dark room.

She could see the glowing red ends of joints circling around her when Skip struck a match and lit a white candle on a wooden altar.

Quickly she scanned the room and smiled when she saw the dozen or so Sigma Psi members surrounding her. She was being inducted as a little sister! The members were smiling back at her. Candidate—that’s what the master had called her. He must have meant candidate for little sister. This was quite a coup! Most, if not all, of the Sigma Psi little sisters belonged to the top sororities on campus, groups that had unanimously rejected her her freshman year when she had gone through the sorority selection process they called recruitment.

Prepare the candidate, instructed the master who was draped in a black choir robe. Two other members who were also wearing black robes and sinister expressions stood behind the altar. The last thing she noticed before Skip blindfolded her was that the members lining the walls of the room wore nothing below the waist.

This can’t be happening to me! How could I have misjudged Skip? Had he planned this all along? How could I be so naive? She lashed out with her arms meeting only rough grasps. When they ripped off her clothes, she screamed. A wad of fabric was instantly jammed in her mouth, muffling her protests. The more she struggled, the more bruised she became. How will I survive this?

She tried her best to think of anything and everything to take her mind away from what was happening to her body. The next few hours seemed like an eternity as one by one each member took his turn while two others held her down. Several times they had punched her in the face.

Bruised, bleeding and almost unconscious, she wailed piercingly as something hot singed the inside of her upper right thigh. Of one thing she was certain: they would pay for this, even if it took her the rest of her life to see that justice was carried out.

The last thing she remembered before she blacked out was the click of a camera and applause.

Chapter One

Jennifer Baldwin awoke to a vague hissing noise and the smell of antiseptic. Her brain felt like a spider had been spinning its web, encroaching on the outer corners of her vision. As her eyes began to focus, she noticed a nurse typing feverishly on a small tablet. Oh, you’re awake again, Mrs. Baldwin! I’ll text your husband and have him come on back.

Oh, that’s right. Now I remember. Our baby is gone. I failed at being able to carry a baby, our child. A tear escaped down Jennifer’s cheek.

Just last weekend everything in their world had been perfect. Beau had finished his first month with his new company and they had celebrated by making an offer on a new house, one that would be big enough for a family.

And then she had gone to her regularly scheduled appointment with her OB/GYN, Dr. Morrison. She had been almost sixteen weeks along, well past the danger zone…or so she had thought. Beau had happened to be nearby making a sales call and had dropped in to hear the heartbeat again and find out when the doctor wanted to do a sonogram. But Dr. Morrison was having trouble finding a heartbeat to hear. Let me go get another one of these, he said holding up the fetal Doppler he had just waved across her stomach. We’ve been having trouble with this one today. That should have been the first red flag. But Jennifer wasn’t worried. She was sure she had felt the baby move last night. It was just a flutter, but a definite movement. She was so relieved to be out of the first trimester and to finally be feeling not so nauseous. That should have been the second red flag.

Dr. Morrison returned to the exam room with another fetal Doppler. Let’s give this one a try.

I felt the baby move last night, Dr. Morrison. Jennifer was beginning to get uneasy.

Dr. Morrison rubbed the monitor over her still flat belly. Jennifer heard a whooshing sound. That’s you, explained the doctor. Slowly, he covered every part of Jennifer’s lower abdomen with the Doppler. Tell you what; let’s do an internal sonogram just to verify that all is well with Baby Baldwin.

Do you want me to leave the room? Beau asked.

No, Dad. You can stay. After all you contributed to this project! Dr. Morrison laughed. I need to track down my nurse and the machine. I’ll be right back.

Jennifer reached for Beau’s hand. Do you think everything is okay?

Of course. Medical equipment isn’t infallible. He’s just being cautious.

The door to the room swung open and Dr. Morrison rolled in a sonogram machine. His nurse followed. It took only a few minutes to set up. Jennifer had seen their baby’s heartbeat for the first time just six weeks ago so she was familiar with the procedure. But this time Dr. Morrison had the sonogram monitor turned away from her. He was studying it closely while moving the wand.

Jennifer, Beau, I’m sorry. There’s no heartbeat. He rotated the screen so they could see it …proof that their baby was dead. I’m afraid your pregnancy is no longer viable. He removed the wand. Get dressed and let’s chat in my office about the next step.

I’m sorry, Hon, said his nurse who then quietly followed Dr. Morrison out of the exam room.

Jennifer looked at Beau while she put on her clothes. Our baby is dead? That just can’t be, Beau! He’s made a mistake. You even said that medical equipment is not infallible. I felt it move last night.

Beau didn’t know what to say so he took her in his arms.

That had been just yesterday, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Jennifer had tried desperately to convince Beau that surely Dr. Morrison had made a mistake. And she begged Beau to not let him take their baby. But Beau’s common sense had prevailed.

When the nurse’s aide at the surgical center had taken her history that morning, she had asked Jennifer if she was there for a therapeutic abortion. My baby’s already dead, Jennifer had replied defensively.

Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Baldwin. That’s just what the procedure is called.

Well maybe they should call it something else because I wouldn’t abort my baby. It’s a very insensitive term. How about we call it a D&C? Because that’s what it is.

The nurse nodded and scurried out of the room.

The words therapeutic abortion were swirling in Jennifer’s foggy brain when Beau walked up. Hey, Beautiful. How are you feeling? He squeezed her hand.

Foggy and beyond that, I’m really not sure how I feel. Physically, I’m still a little numb. Numb…that’s how I feel.

The doctor said he talked to you.

He did? I don’t remember…

Beau smiled the smile that always made Jennifer feel better. Dr. Morrison said it was a freak cord accident and that you should be able to get pregnant again soon!

Jennifer nodded, tears stinging her eyes. When can I get out of here?

The nurse looked over at her. Anytime you’re ready, Mrs. Baldwin. I’ll help you get dressed while your husband brings the car around.

After surviving Beau’s disappearance and potential death a few months ago, Jennifer had felt certain that her life was back on track. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Chapter Two

Beau sat at their kitchen table wondering if Jennifer would be hungry when she woke up. Dr. Morrison had warned him that she might be sleepy from the anesthetic for a while. He suggested she stay off her feet the rest of the day, but she could return to work on Monday if she felt up to it. She also might experience some depression due to the drop in hormones. Before Beau could decide what to do about dinner, his phone vibrated. It was his parents.

Hi, Mom.

Beau, we were out playing bridge late last night and didn’t see there was a message until this morning. Is Jennifer all right? How did the procedure go? I was afraid to call too soon and possibly wake her up. She must be exhausted, Martha Baldwin had been a nurse before she started her family. She was a good resource for Beau.

She’s sleeping. Blames herself for the miscarriage, although she must know that’s not possible.

Of course not. These things happen. I saw it frequently during my OB rotation. Now, Beau, you need to understand that her hormones have come crashing down. So she’s bound to feel a little…out of control and absolutely she will be sad. Martha paused. I imagine you are too.

Beau let out a sigh. Yes, we were looking forward to having a family…Mom, what can I do to help her feel better?

Just be yourself. And be extra patient with her. It will take some time for her to heal both physically and emotionally. It’s a loss for both of you. When do you close on your new house? Maybe Jennifer can look forward to that.

The new house. He’d totally forgotten about the offer they had made on their dream home, a home with more room for the three of them. He had put the offer on hold when they learned the news about the baby, but hadn’t told Jennifer. Beau closed his eyes and put his head in his free hand.

You’re absolutely right about that. Moving will be something for Jennifer to look forward to. He’d call their agent and move forward with the contract as soon as he hung up with his mom.

And don’t forget Meredith is sending Ryan back with us when we go to Germany this summer. Maybe we can bring him down for a quick visit. I know how fond Jennifer is of him. Meredith was Beau’s older sister who had been living with her husband and their five-year-old son in Germany for the past three years while her husband was on a special assignment with his company.

That’s a great idea! I’m sure that will perk her up. And be another reason to move to a bigger house so they can stay with us. Thanks, Mom.

Happy to help. Please extend our sympathies to Jennifer.

I will. Thanks for calling.

Beau pressed the red circle on his cell phone and tiptoed down the hall to see if Jennifer was awake. He listened at the door and heard her talking to her parents on the phone. Great! That would give him just enough time to call their realtor and get the contract moving forward on their dream home.

• • • •

Shortly after her miscarriage, the Baldwin’s home had sold quickly and, as luck would have it, they were able to lease it back from the new buyers until they could move into their new house. Now nearly three months later, Jennifer wobbled shakily as she stood on the top rung of a ladder, stretching to wipe off the highest shelf of their new closet in the master bedroom. The movers would be here any minute delivering the rest of their belongings from their old house. She had spent the last week preparing for this day, cleaning and painting their dream home while Beau had been out of town training for his new job. Last night she had been too excited to sleep and she now attributed that to her light-headedness.

Carefully, she climbed down the steps. Quit kidding yourself. Go check the test results. It had taken her over thirty minutes to get up the nerve to take the test. Her emotions wavered between giddy excitement of another miracle in the making and fear of yet another miscarriage. Dr. Morrison’s admonitions still echoed in her mind. Wait three cycles and then you can start trying again.

Beau and Jennifer had heeded his advice, grateful for another chance to become parents. It had been easy to ignore her symptoms over the past several weeks. The endless packing of boxes at their old house, selecting paint and wallpaper for this house and her duties at her demanding job kept her from realizing she was two weeks late.

On her way to retrieve her pregnancy test, waiting for her in their huge master bathroom, Jennifer heard a buzzing noise. Confused, she did a one-eighty, honing in on the source of the sound. It was coming from Beau’s sink. Why would a sink be buzzing? Jennifer stared at it and then realized it was Beau’s phone which he had forgotten to take with him on his final trip to their old house. She hesitated for just a minute, not recognizing the number on caller ID, before she decided to answer it.

Beau Baldwin’s office.

Uh, yes. This is Christina LaRue with Cardio Technologies. Is he in? came a sultry voice.

Jennifer frowned, not recognizing the name. I’m sorry; he’s away for a moment. May I take a message?

Is this his wife?

Wife, lover, chef, maid…take your pick. Yes it is. Beau’s wife was a worthy title, but not her only one. She had worked hard to become one of the movers and shakers in the financial division at SDS, a large, high-tech company. When she had been pregnant, she had considered leaving it all behind for the mommy track. Maybe that would come back into play sooner than Jennifer had expected.

I’m Beau’s new manager.

Jennifer had almost forgotten with everything going on that Beau was supposed to be getting a new boss. Oh! I’m Jennifer. Can I have him call you as soon as he gets back? I expect him any minute. He forgot his phone when he left this morning.

That would be great. I wanted to let him know that the NHS Ball is this Saturday night. It’s benefitting the National Heart Society. I know it’s short notice, but I’d really like you both to attend. We’ll be hosting a table of doctors and their wives. There’s usually a silent auction which is a lot of fun. I hope you will join us.

Oh absolutely! We wouldn’t miss it! Jennifer wondered where she had packed her formal gown.

Great! I’m so glad. I’m looking forward to meeting you both!

I’m looking forward to meeting you too. I appreciate the invitation.

I’ll see you Saturday night then.

Jennifer smiled as she disconnected the call, making a mental note to tease Beau about his new boss with the sexy voice.

She turned the corner to grab the pregnancy stick next to her sink when the doorbell rang signaling the movers’ arrival. Jennifer raced to the front door then stopped short, realizing the stick was in her hand. She held it up and stared at the oval window before opening the door. A plus sign greeted her!

• • • •

Beau Baldwin slowly pulled into his new driveway and waited for the garage door to open. He checked his jet black hair in the rearview mirror while he eased his car in between stacks of boxes. He hoped he didn’t look as exhausted as he felt. He had been gone earlier that week to attend training as part of his new job as a sales specialist with Cardio Technologies. And Beau never slept well while on the road.

Right now, he wished he could have stayed with his former company, Coro-Med. Despite their offer for him to stay on as a manager, Beau couldn’t convince himself to remain with an organization whose parent company, Coro-Pharm, had been illegally testing a drug on the equipment he sold. Too many people, including Jennifer’s best friend’s mother, had died during the experiments. And when Beau had gotten suspicious that something wasn’t quite right, his boss had sent him to Mexico to find a piece of missing medical equipment. While there, someone had planted cocaine in his briefcase and he had been thrown into a Mexican prison where the plan had been for him to spend the rest of his life. He was very fortunate that he had met Manuel Garcia, a U.S. Border Patrol Agent, on the flight down. And he was also very lucky that his precious wife had not believed that he had been murdered by banditos and had worked with Mr. Garcia to find him and bring him back safely. It seemed now like a lifetime ago that all of that had happened and it had only been a few months. No wonder he felt exhausted.

Now Beau had a new job and a new house…if he could just give Jennifer the baby they both so badly wanted, everything would be perfect. He slid out of his car and walked around to the front of the house to supervise the movers.

Jennifer was already giving the men instructions on where their few pieces of furniture were to go when he walked up. We’re going to need a lot of furniture to fill this house! She smiled up at Beau.

In due time, Mrs. Baldwin! Beau replied as he hugged her.

Jennifer, barely able to contain her news, pulled away and went into the house. I had a pizza delivered in case you’re hungry, she called over her shoulder.

That sounds perfect! Beau followed her into their new kitchen.

Oh your new manager called a few minutes ago, Jennifer smiled tauntingly, waiting for Beau’s reaction. At least they had plenty to discuss which made keeping her secret easier.

Beau reached for a piece of pizza as his eyebrows shot up. Oh shoot! I left my phone here! Is it anyone I know?

I don’t think so. At least I’ve never heard you mention her.

Her?

Her, Jennifer confirmed. Her name is Christina LaRue and she sounds very sexy.

Great, a nice woman boss. That’s just what I need.

Jennifer handed Beau a can of Coke. And just what is wrong with a female manager, Beau Baldwin? Jennifer chided. Surely I didn’t marry a chauvinist. Need I remind you that I am a lady boss? Are you saying you wouldn’t be happy working under me?

Beau finished chewing the crust on his first piece of pizza then walked over and pulled Jennifer into his arms. "I’d work under you any day, Mrs. Baldwin. In fact, my preference would be to work under you." He bent his head, nuzzling her neck. But Jennifer gently pushed him away. She stared into his hazel eyes.

I’m serious.

So am I. Beau then crushed his mouth against hers to silence her protests.

Jennifer smiled and looked up at him. Your new boss wants us to go to a charity event Saturday night.

Saturday night? That’s awfully short notice!

I’ve already found the box with our formal clothes. I think it will be a great opportunity to meet your new manager and we’ll have a lot of fun.

Beau nodded as he grabbed another slice of pizza and headed out to their pool terrace. Jennifer followed. You know, I’ve always liked this neighborhood. The trees are so beautiful. It reminds me of where I grew up. Beau was born and raised in Huntington, New York. He won the state golf championship his senior year in high school and had several scholarship offers from major universities. But as a die-hard Dallas Cowboys fan, he had chosen to spend his college years at Southern Methodist University when they offered him a golf scholarship.

What are you smiling about? Jennifer asked. Maybe she should just tell him now, by their new pool.

I was just thinking about the day we first saw this house. Remember how mad you were at me?

Well, I did have good reason to be! You’d only nixed every house I liked. And time was running out. We would have been homeless if we hadn’t found this house and if it hadn’t been vacant.

When their real estate agent, Darcy Gibbons, had shown them 1113 Creek Hollow Drive, they never dreamed that they would be living here. Hey, the house down the street is still for sale. I know it’s a little out of your price range, but let’s check it out. I’ll call the agent and see if we can take a look. Why don’t you two walk on down there, she had said.

Good idea, Beau tried to be enthusiastic despite his concern over the price.

We are running out of houses to look at. Jennifer’s brown eyes focused on the house down the street. What are we going to do? We have to move out of our house soon so the new owners can move in.

We are going to look at this one. Beau squeezed Jennifer’s hand.

Darcy eased her Jaguar sedan in front of a handsome two-story brick house. She practically ran down the path leading to an eight foot, green door with leaded glass on each side. Come on, you two. Good news—it’s vacant! She unlocked the front door and walked in with Jennifer and Beau. Jennifer barely noticed the oak hardwood floors