Page 83 of Son of a Preacher Man

He went to the bedside. Charlotte reached up to pull on his beard, as she so often did. Smiling down at her, Kodiak kissed her soft, dark curls.

“What’s her name?” With rheumy eyes, his smile slack-jawed, Jarrid studied the baby in his arms.

“Charlotte.”

“Oh, precious little angel.” He stretched his arms out. “Let me have her.”

Glancing back at his sister, Linnea’s eyes widened in alarm.

Their father must have caught her reaction too. With a snicker, he smirked. “Don’t worry, dear. Death’s not contagious.”

A nurse came waltzing into the room right then. Grateful for the interruption, Kodiak took a step back. Her smile effervescent, she offered Jarrid a small plastic cup. For some reason, she reminded him of Chloe.

“Looking handsome as ever, Pastor Black,” she flattered him, combing the hair from his face with her fingers.

“Call me Jarrid, dear.”

“And this has to be your beautiful family.”

“Indeed, they are. My son and his wife.” Then his face lit up. “And this pretty, little blessing is my granddaughter.”

This was fucked up.

Linnea’s my sister and you know it, you sick bastard.

Kodiak wanted to say it out loud, but he held his tongue.

“How about I grab the camera and take a picture? We can pin it up right there.” The nurse pointed to a corkboard on the wall by the bed. “That way you can always see it. Would you like that?”

“You’re an angel, dear. Yes, I would love that.”

The nurse returned with a Polaroid camera. She took the shot, Kodiak holding Charlotte on one side of the bed, Linnea on the other. Then Jarrid reached for the baby, and with no other choice, he placed her in her grandfather’s arms.

You should get to hold your granddaughter once. So you know what you missed.

Linnea came over to stand at his side.

The nurse smiled at this facade of a normal family. If she only knew the truth, she’d be mortified. “I can take one for you if you’d like.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Kodiak handed her his phone. Then she took the photo and left.

“Once again, God has fulfilled his promise.” His voice gravelly, Jarrid stroked the baby’s hair and glanced at Linnea. “I wish I’d have known sooner. You shouldn’t have run.”

“She’s here now,” he said, curling his arm around his sister.

“It’s too late.”

“For what?”

His laughter cynical, Jarrid shifted his gaze. “Are you staying at the house?”

“Yeah.”

“Take what you want and burn the rest,” he adamantly instructed. “Leave nothing behind.”

Jesus, what could be in there? They hadn’t found anything noteworthy yet.

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