That, no doubt, was what she’d fling at Evan if he accused her of being careless, for not considering birth control the night they had been together. Well, he hadn’t brought up the dicey subject, either, by golly. He’d have to admit that, no matter how upset he might be.

But taking equal responsibility for the creation of this little one wouldn’t make Evan want this baby, wouldn’t send him racing off to buy cigars so he’d be ready for the big day that he was ecstatic about.

Evan might tell her that she would hear from his attorney regarding child support payments because he was an honorable man who would provide for his child, but he wanted no part of the role of father to their baby. He didn’t have the time, nor the desire, to do so.

Oh, what a depressing thought.

“It’s just you and me, kiddo,” Jennifer said, patting her stomach, then sniffling. “And maybe a weekend father. But he might not even want to take on that role. I’m so sorry…” she sniffled again “…just so sorry, little darling. Your daddy is magnificent but he isn’t mine, or ours. But we’ll be fine, just the two of us. Fine and dandy. You’ll see.”

Jennifer picked up the mug of milk, then plunked it back down when she saw the scummy film on the top of the now-cool liquid. She took a wadded tissue from the pocket of her robe and dabbed at her nose.

She was not going to cry, she told herself. She was tired, so very tired, and she was on emotional overload from talking on the telephone with Evan earlier and from being with him in his office after not seeing him for three months. There she had sat, knowing she was carrying his child while he glared at her and grumpily said he guessed he was stuck with her for the duration of the filming of her documentary. What a crummy thing for him to have said, the rotten bum.

“And I think I’m falling in love with him,” Jennifer wailed. “Oh, I’m a wreck, a complete wreck.”

She got to her feet and stomped down the hall to her bedroom. Exhaustion claimed her, and she was asleep within moments of climbing into the beckoning bed.

The building where Franklin Gardner’s penthouse apartment took up the entire thirty-fifth floor was in the prestigious Gold Coast area of Chicago. It was cream-colored stone with an expensive brown tint added to the windows that caused a golden hue to be reflected when the sun shone on the structure, as though it was constantly reminding the general public that it took wealth to live within its walls.

At eight o’clock the next morning Jennifer arrived at the building and Evan pushed open the door to the lushly decorated lobby to allow her to enter.

“Good morning, Evan,” Jennifer said, smiling. “Gracious, I think this lobby is bigger than my entire apartment.”

“Let’s get upstairs,” Evan said, then frowned. “You look pale, Jennifer.”

You would, too, she thought, if you’d been tossing your cookies since 5:00 a.m. Her doctor had said that the morning sickness should end any time now. As far as she, wobbly-tummy Jennifer was concerned, it couldn’t happen quick enough to suit her.

“Pale? Me?” she said. “I had a little problem with getting to sleep last night, but I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Evan said, then started across the lobby.

When they reached the elevators a uniformed police officer was standing by one elevator set apart from the others. Evan nodded at him as he and Jennifer stepped into the elevator. There was only one button on the panel and Evan pushed it.

“This is a private elevator for the penthouse?” Jennifer said. “Impressive.”

The doors swished closed and the elevator began its ascent.

“Yep,” Evan said. “This one only goes to the penthouse. It normally requires a special key, but we’re making it accessible to our people with no hassle.”

The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors slid silently open.

“Oh, my,” Jennifer said, as she stepped forward. “No wonder a private elevator is needed. We’re actually standing in the foyer to the penthouse itself. The elevator is the front door, per se. Mmm. So this is how the other half lives in Chicago, the haves versus us have-not working stiffs.”

“Right,” Evan said, frowning, “but the Gardner family money wasn’t enough for greedy Franklin. He had to have more. So the slime sets up a racket of kidnapping girls no one would miss and selling them to prostitution rings in foreign countries. Unbelievable. The Gardner name has been held in high regard in this city for many, many years and now it’s tarnished beyond repair.”

They entered the enormous living room, then Jennifer followed Evan across the richly furnished expanse to a room on the opposite side. A chalk outline of a body was visible on the carpet in what was obviously a study, or den, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

“Well, Franklin paid the ultimate price for his greed,” Jennifer said quietly, staring at the outline of the murdered man’s body. “It’s probably terrible of me to say this, Evan, but with Franklin Gardner dead we can at least know that a great many young girls have been saved from a horrible existence.”

“That thought has occurred to me more than once.” Evan nodded. “ Franklin paid the piper, big-time. But even though he was an evil, heartless man, his killer can’t go unpunished. No one has the right to get away with what happened in this room, to take the life of another human being. Lyle is going to pay his dues, too.”

Jennifer placed one hand on Evan’s arm. “You’ll get your conviction, Evan, I know you will.”

“Will I? I need more evidence than what I have, Jennifer. The detectives working this case and I are convinced that the bruises were caused by the signet ring that Lyle always wore. A ring, he claims, he lost. Damn, we need that ring, but it’s nowhere to be found. The detectives are still looking for it but…” He shook his head.

“Are you here this morning to search for it again?”

“No, this place has been gone over inch by inch. The ring isn’t here. There’s no real purpose to be served by my being here. I just wanted to connect with the whole event again, try to imagine it in my mind as it unfolded that night. I suppose you could put in your documentary that the district attorney wasted taxpayer money by returning to the scene of the crime for no plausible reason.”

“I wouldn’t do that. If you feel the need to be here, then here you should be. It’s sort of creepy though to be standing here realizing that a man was murdered by his own brother in this very room. It’s too bad you can’t bring the jury here, let them see this, feel the evil vibes in here.”

“The judge would never go for that.”

“I suppose not.” Jennifer paused. “Can you imagine what Cecelia Gardner must be going through? One of her sons is dead and the other one is accused of his murder. Her world as she knew it is destroyed. Her heart must be breaking.”

“I don’t know about that,” Evan said, starting to wander slowly around the room. “From what I hear, there are mixed opinions about whether Cecelia Gardner even has a heart. Oh, she’s considered the grande dame of Chicago society and makes certain her picture is in the newspaper whenever possible in connection with charity events she sponsors. But she’s a tough old gal who is used to having her own way.

“She went all the way to the top, to the governor, to attempt to get Lyle released on bail. He refused but Cecelia managed to rattle some cages, get some very pithy quotes in the paper about the need for a new governor, new mayor, a new district attorney, and a complete overhaul of the police department.”

“She wanted you fired?”

“Oh, yeah,” Evan said, smiling. “I said we had enough evidence against Lyle to go to trial. The lady is after my hide. Belinda knows to never put through any call to me from Cecelia Gardner. I have neither the time, nor the patience to deal with her.”