Thirty-One Detective Olivia Newhouse
Thirty-One
Detective Olivia Newhouse
Four months later
“It’s a boy!”
David and I stare at the ultrasound screen. Tears slip from my eyes even as I try to blink them back.
“Olivia”—David stares at me, his own eyes wide and filled with wonder, his hand squeezing mine—“we’re having a boy.”
I can’t speak. I can only smile and let the tears flow.
The evening after I found Fanning in the barn at the farm, I told David the whole story.
All of it. Since then, I have been amazed every day by how kind and caring he has been about every single thing.
He has gone above and beyond to help me through each day, and there have been some tough ones.
I am truly grateful that he is the man I fell in love with.
That never changed. He was only reacting to what was happening to me.
I was the one pushing him away, because subconsciously I felt I didn’t deserve him and that I couldn’t make him happy.
I had to find my way through all that. The man tells me every morning when we wake up how much he loves me, how thankful he is for me.
How he can’t wait to be a father to our children. I am so very happy.
Not to mention, his family has been incredible as well. Everyone is thrilled about the baby. It’s just all so wonderful. Sometimes I worry that it won’t last. But then I remind myself that I know it will.
Once we’ve seen Dr. Raiford and she has assured us that all looks just as it should, we drive home.
As he navigates into the garage, he says, “There’s something I should tell you.”
I groan. I can only imagine what he is up to.
He’s so on top of everything. The nursery is complete except for the final bits of decor related to gender.
Those will be going up next. He has already decided to take an extended leave when the baby is born.
Just days ago, he informed me that he’s even planning a babymoon.
He is so excited. It makes me very happy.
I, on the other hand, am still somewhere in the neighborhood of somewhat terrified. I’m having a baby, and I have no idea how to do that or how to be a mother. David insists we will figure it all out together.
I’m counting on him.
He shuts off the engine. “Don’t be mad.”
I turn to him. Have no clue what he means. “How could I be?”
David really has proven over the past few months how he intends to be there for me and our child through whatever comes our way. I can count on him, and that means so much. If he has some big surprise planned, how can I be upset?
“I know we promised each other there wouldn’t be any more surprises, but I couldn’t help myself.” His face tells me he really wants me to understand.
Whatever this is, he’s thrilled about it. Obviously. “Okay, so what’s going down?”
He grins. “The family is inside. They wanted to throw a little gender-reveal party.”
I roll my eyes and groan again. “You haven’t told them yet, have you?” I can’t see how, since we’ve been together every second since the ultrasound. Well, except for when I went to the bathroom. Man, if he told . . .
“I haven’t. I swear.” He releases his seat belt and gets out, then rushes around to my side of the car and opens the door.
I release my seat belt and climb out. “I didn’t see any cars. Are you sure they’re coming?”
He escorts me out of the garage. “We have to go through the front door.”
I look up and down the street just in case I missed something, but I still see no sign of the vehicles his family drives.
“They parked the next street over so you would be surprised.”
“I see.” I loop my arm around his. “I guess you weren’t supposed to warn me in advance.”
He shoots me another lopsided grin. I do love that face. I hope our little boy looks just like him.
“Thanks.” I lean my head on his shoulder as we pause at the front door.
He unlocks and opens it, and we walk in. The house is utterly silent. I can just imagine the whole Preston crew all hidden behind curtains and hovering behind the sofa, waiting to surprise me. We share a secret smile and head deeper inside.
The boxes that once crowded the foyer have been unpacked.
I am fully moved in. I decided the best way for me to show my love and respect for the man and woman who gave me their love and security was to donate the farm to an organization that will turn it into a safe haven for abused children.
The money the Newhouses left me will fund the transformation of the property as well as the operation for years to come.
No matter that what they did was wrong—divisive, even—their intent and the relationship that developed between us as the years passed was loving and generous.
I will always love them as if they were the family I was born into.
I saw to it that their daughter, the other Olivia, was given a proper burial next to them.
As for me, I’m working with a brilliant therapist who is helping me get used to what my history actually is versus what I’ve believed for the past sixteen years.
Lots more memories have seeped in—none good, sadly.
But I deal with them. I remind myself that none of it can touch me now. It’s in the past. This is my life now.
“Surprise!” an array of voices shout as we enter the great room.
I put my hands to my chest in faux surprise. “What is all this?”
David’s entire family is here, all wearing either pink or blue. I can’t blink fast enough to stop the tears. I do a lot of that these days. His family really has embraced me in a way I only dreamed of.
It’s the tallest of the guests who draws my lingering attention. Walt is wearing a blue tee that looks a tad too small. He winks at me. I glance at David, so very grateful that he included Walt. The man is family, too. I can’t imagine my life without him.
I’m suddenly surrounded by people trying to give me hugs and begging to know whether we’re having a boy or a girl.
David pulls me away from the others, and we move to the long table that stands in the center of the room, where all sorts of food and decorations wait.
My goodness, the whole room is full of streamers and baby decorations.
In front of the table, two good-size boxes with question marks on them wait for us.
One question mark is pink and one is blue.
“You ready?” he asks me.
I nod. We lean down and take hold of the box lid that has the blue question mark and lift. The moment we do, dozens and dozens of blue balloons float up.
The cheering and clapping goes on and on. Suddenly, I am swallowed up in more hugs and teary congratulations.
I hear the popping of champagne corks and more cheering.
“This is quite the celebration, kid.”
I turn to Walt and savor a big hug from him. When I draw back, I narrow my gaze at him. “And you didn’t say a word.”
He puts a hand to his chest. “Hey, I was sworn to secrecy.”
He leans down and we hug again. “Thank you,” I murmur against his ear. “I could not have gotten through the past few months without you.”
“You”—he draws back—“have got this.”
I swipe more silly tears away. He’s right. I have got this. It wasn’t easy in the beginning, but I’m getting there. Walt has been an amazing source of strength. I will forever be grateful for him.
We eat and drink and laugh, and I am so very happy. I look from one guest to the next. All are smiling and teasing David. His parents look so proud. This will be their first grandson.
I think of my other son. The one that was taken from me when I was just shy of fifteen.
I wanted to find him, and I did. Actually, Fanning did.
When my father gave the bastard’s attorney all that money, one of the things that Fanning asked him to do was to locate the boy.
Fanning intended to use him to hurt me. But his plan backfired.
My son is a happy and healthy fifteen-year-old who lives in Chattanooga.
I met with his parents and explained everything.
They are wonderful people. Looking at all the photos of him, hearing about his life, was amazing.
Not having the chance to hug him or be a part of his life is hard for sure.
But allowing him to go on with the really good life he has is the least I can give him.
If and when they need me or he wants to meet me, they know where I am.
They have raised a great kid. I can only hope to do so well.
As for my career, that is on hold for now.
The investigation confirmed that the now-deceased Carl Fanning did indeed set out to frame me for his own murder.
An unexpected and surprising new way, in my opinion, to leave this world via suicide by cop.
The bastard died two days after he was taken from my barn.
A bad case of pneumonia and complications related to his other health issues took him out.
During those final two days, he refused to give a statement about how he ended up in my barn or anything else.
It was as if he understood he had lost, and he just shut down.
Based on the testimony of Fanning’s attorney, Alexander Cagle, and that of Walt as well as Janie Hyatt, no evidence of criminal behavior on my part was discovered.
The psychiatric evaluation concluded that I was not aware of my interactions with Fanning after he imprisoned himself on my property, and, therefore, I was not criminally liable for whatever events occurred during that time.
However, that same conclusion called to question my mental fitness for duty.
Completely understandable. I love being a cop, so maybe one day I will get back to it.
Though Olivia Newhouse is my legal name, I am not Olivia Newhouse.
Olivia Newhouse died at home when she was fifteen years old after being in a coma for two years.
I have no idea what my real name is or who my biological parents were.
Given the situation, I have chosen to keep the name Olivia, but I am a Preston now.
I smile at my husband as he and Walt laugh over glasses of champagne.
Walt has been assigned to desk duty due to his heart condition.
No more going into the field for him. His cardiologist is certain he will continue to do well as long as he sticks to his meds, a strict diet, and exercise. I am making sure he does exactly that.
As for the victims who banded together in the hope of ending Fanning, Walt tossed their signed statements.
No one else had seen them except for the officer who left them on Walt’s desk, and he didn’t read them.
Their confessions were never added to the case file.
Walt and I decided they had suffered enough.
Thankfully, the DA decided not to go after them for harassment or any other charges.
Hyatt’s burned barn and stolen truck was all Fanning.
At least, that’s how the report was written, and no one is questioning it.
All involved can go on with their lives.
Case closed.
Is any part of what we did wrong? Maybe. But we’re not looking back on that one, either.
David ushers me over to where the cake is being sliced and served.
I lean close and inhale the scent of him, so very grateful that I didn’t ruin our relationship with my secrets.
My therapist also helped me to see that David’s attempts to stop our relationship from falling apart triggered the child I once was to fight against the perceived domination.
Poor guy. He really was getting the worst of me.
I smile as he passes me a slice of cake.
Just watching how happy he is makes me happy.
In addition to all the psychiatric testing and therapy I’ve endured the past few months, I’ve also dealt with the other necessary tests, including for HIV, since I was in close contact with Fanning. I am good. No worries about that.
This is just the beginning of my new life.
The life I’ve led until now belonged to someone else.
In truth, I suppose you could say I’ve died twice and been resurrected.
This time, this life will be all mine. My goal is to figure out the motherhood thing so I can be the best mother possible for my child.
I don’t really know how normal people take care of normal children.
I’ve never really been normal; certainly none of the people involved with the first three decades of my life could be labeled as normal.
I want this child to have a real normal . . . whatever that is.
Lucky for me, I have a big, loving family. I look from David to Walt and the other people gathered in this room. Who could ask for more?
Life is good, and I am looking only forward.