Page 20 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 2

He shudders. “I guess that sort of changes things, doesn’t it? I always assumed she just wanted me out of the way, that I was a hindrance. Or that she couldn’t be bothered with me. Ruth will always be my mom,” Ian says, as if he’s thinking aloud, trying to process everything. “Nothing will ever change that. Ruth and Martin saved my life. I owe themeverything. But maybe I could get to know Rhonda better. I suppose we could be acquaintances, or maybe even friends one day.”

“So, you want to see her again?”

“Yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay, that she doesn’t need anything. The least I can do is help her out financially. I owe her that much.” He presses a kiss to the edge of my jaw, then chuckles. “I’m a sticky mess.”

“Me, too. Let’s clean off and hit the hay.”

Chapter 8 – Ian

The next morning, Ingrid opens her front door and waves us inside. We’re each carrying a car seat holding a sleeping infant. Tyler’s mom gazes down at the babies with a beaming smile on her face. “And how are my two littlest angels?”

“Doing well,” I say as I carry both car seats down the hall to the back of the house, where the kitchen and sitting room are located.

Ingrid’s cottage is small, but so cozy. Besides the kitchen and sitting room, she has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a lovely back patio. She lives in the private, gated McIntyre family community—theMcIntyre Compound, as Lia affectionately refers to it—across the street from Tyler’s sister, Beth. Lia and her hottie rockstar husband, Jonah Locke, live next door to Ingrid.

“I’ll bring in the diaper bags,” Tyler says as he heads back out the door to our vehicle.

Ingrid and I transfer the sleeping babies into a pair of bassinettes in her sitting room. Once they’re tucked into their little beds, she pulls me into her arms for a mama bear hug.

Since the moment I met her, Ingrid Jamison has been one of my biggest champions. We bonded over baking Tyler’s favorite chocolate chip cookies. She’s like my second mom and a BFF all rolled into one. I swear she loves me like I’m one of her kids.

Ingrid’s tall for a woman—about five-eight—and slender. Her blonde hair is long and straight, her complexion pale like cream, and her eyes a lovely sky blue. Tyler’s much younger sister, Beth, takes after their mom, favoring her Swedish ancestry. Tyler is dark haired with a swarthy complexion, like his father had.

Ingrid knows my painful history with my birth mom, about the abuse and the neglect. She knows all about Rhonda’s drug addiction at the time, about the prostitution and her eventual imprisonment.

She goes up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Tyler told me about the attack on your birth mother. I hope she’ll recover quickly. Areyouokay?”

“I’m all right,” I say. “It’s a lot to process. She said she did it to protect me—from the men. I should be grateful, right?” I’m finding it difficult to speak around the painful lump in my throat. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about my past without feeling the corresponding pain that comes with those memories.

Ingrid tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “A mother will do anything to protect her child from harm, sweetheart. Even lock him away.”

“We’re going back to the hospital to see her again. I want to make sure she’s okay and that she has everything she needs. I can do that much for her at least.” I feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes.

Ingrid lays her slender hand against my chest, right over my heart. “There’s an infinite amount of space for love in here, darling. And you can’t have too many moms. If you find yourself wanting to love Rhonda one day, that’s perfectly fine. Or not. It will always be your choice. And no one will judge you for your decision.”

Tyler walks into the sitting room with a diaper bag slung over each shoulder. He sets them on the sofa. “Everything’s in here, Mom. Diapers, more clothes if you need them, burp cloths, bottles, formula.” He studies his mother. “You sure this is okay?”

Ingrid laughs. “Honey, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of two babies. I raised two of them myself, you know, not to mention I babysit your sister’s kids all the time.”

At the mention Tyler’s sister, the front door opens, as if right on cue.

“Hello!” Beth calls as she comes down the hallway. She’s a much younger carbon copy of their mother, tall, slender, with straight, long blonde hair and blue-green eyes. “I saw the Porsche pull in,” she says, “so I had to come see the babies. By the way, Shane sends his love. He’s at home with our kids.”

Beth greets her big brother, throwing her arms around his neck and going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. Then she does the same with me, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her until she laughs.

She pulls free and asks, “Now, where are they?” as she crosses the room and zeroes in on the bassinettes. She bends down to get a good look at first one and then the other.

Lizzie is awake now and mewling like a kitten.

“Come to Aunty Beth, sweetheart,” she says as she scoops her namesake into her arms and kisses her forehead. “Hello, little sweet pea.”

“Babe?” Tyler asks, his gaze locked on me. “Are you ready to go?”

When he holds his hand out to me, I take it. “Yes. Let’s do this.”

Tyler’s phone rings then, and he checks the screen. “It’s your mom.” He accepts the call. “Ruth, you’re on speaker. Ian’s here with me. We’re at Ingrid’s.”

“Hi, honey,” Ruth says.

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