Chapter 15

Jason stroked Kylie's hair, looking up when the door opened quietly. His father and Dr. Rourke stepped into the room, his father hesitantly, and Rourke decidedly anxiously. They both scanned the room looking for Kylie, his father relaxing a bit when he spotted her in his lap.

"Asleep?" he asked quietly.

Jason nodded. "The paramedic gave her a sedative. Close the door?" He looked at Rourke. "I need to know if what I suspect is true."

His father closed the door carefully, and Rourke walked over to crouch beside them, studying Kylie's still face. Tenderly, he reached out and stroked a bit of hair back from her cheek. "It could be," he said, softly. "If... he..." his voice dripped with loathing and anger, "isn't the one, then there are very few other possibilities. Dhona wasn't like him."

Jason nodded again. "I thought that might be." He managed to get the key-chain loose from Kylie's hand. "It can't be him," he said, holding it out as best he could.

Rourke studied it. "Good." He looked back to Kylie. "I'll be honest. I'd like it to be. I really would. But..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old photograph, holding it next to Kylie's face. "She looks so much like her mother, I can't see anyone else in her. The blood types are right, but I don't know that they're not also right for the other two guys."

"Did her mother have those eyes?" Jason asked.

Rourke handed him the photograph. Dhona did look just like Kylie, except her features were more exotic and her skin slightly golden. Her eyes were soft chocolate brown. "No. My wife commented on her eyes today ... I hadn't noticed."

"Did the other two guys?"

Rourke shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so, but ... it's been a long time, and I wasn't usually looking at them, not when she was around." He smiled. "None of us did. We were too sure that if we looked away from her, she'd vanish."

Jason hesitated. "Do you care whether she's genetically yours or not?"

Rourke thought for a moment. "Not really. But she might. And her genetic father would if he knew. Any of us would be proud to claim her. If Dhona had told us ... but she just left, instead." He sounded honestly confused.

Jason hesitated again, then said, slowly, "I haven't talked to her about this-- it's not the sort of thing I could ask about-- but you seemed to be the only older man she wasn't frightened of. More than that, really. I ... think she probably wished you were her father sometimes."

"He's right, John," Mike said. "Yesterday when she came in my class, I commented on how pretty she was, and ... well, her expression damned near made me cry. She was scared to death. That's why I didn't dare touch her in the gym today. But when you came in, she calmed right down, not a bit afraid, just embarrassed by what she'd done."

"And ... does she know either of the other two?" Jason asked.

Rourke shook his head. "Yacob works down in Houston, at the space center, and Mark's been doing research in South Africa for the past five years. But they're both good men, and they would move Heaven and Earth to take care of her if she were theirs."

Jason said, very softly, "What would happen to her if she was taken from here and put with another strange man?"

He paled. "I see your point. But legally ... they'd want proof, I'm sure."

Jason nodded. "But for now, if you tell the officer that you are the most likely candidate for her real father, he might let you see her statement. That would be easier on her than telling you herself, or even giving permission for you to see it."

He closed his eyes tightly. "God. I don't want to see it. I don't want to know what that bastard got away with. But ... I have to know."

They were interrupted by a light knock on the door, and Detective Ramirez stepped in, holding a battered book. "Excuse me, but would one of you gentlemen be John Rourke or know where he might be found?"

Rourke frowned and stood up. "I'm John Rourke. Can I help you?"

Ramirez nodded, and glanced at Jason briefly, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "He did keep a journal."

Jason swallowed. "That's good, I guess, but ... damn. Sick."

Ramirez turned the pages with gloved hands. "I need to read to you a bit here, I think you'll be interested in ... ah, here it is: July 8, Dhona-slut's spawn arrived here today. Promising. Medical entry tests in quarantine show that the bitch was telling the truth when she left. Babyslut could not possibly be my genetic offspring. Not that I needed the tests, with those green, green eyes. Probably the bitch was telling the whole truth and that geek-boy Rourke is the father. She was always going on about 'John this, ' and 'John that', I remember from the time. Should have killed the little prick when I threatened to. Of course, then I wouldn't have a pretty little Kylie-slut, so sweet and innocent and legally mine to play with."

Jason tensed. "I should have killed the bastard."

Ramirez closed the book carefully, and his face tightened, giving Jason a tiny, barely perceptible nod. "I need to return this to evidence," he said. "But there's enough of an indication here to have you declared her temporary guardian until some tests can be done and true paternity established. Unless you wish to refuse, of course."

"Where do I have to sign?" Rourke asked, just as the door opened again, and his wife peeked inside.

"John? I got your message, there are cops everywhere, what ... oh, no. Oh, poor baby."

Rourke hesitated for a moment. "Ah ... hold that thought. But whatever it is, bring it. I just need to have a word with my wife."

Ramirez nodded, heading back out the door.

Rourke took his wife into the corner to talk quietly for a moment. Her face grew angrier and angrier. Finally, she slapped him, and Jason sagged, looking down at Kylie sadly.

"How dare you! How dare you think I would object! What sort of monster do you think I am?" she snapped, and Jason winced, realizing he'd just made the same mistake.

"John Rourke, if you don't do right by that child, I swear to God, I'll kill you myself!"

Rourke stared at her, half-smiling in a dazed, confused way. "Well, Mandy ... I ... you ... I love you, you know."

She sniffed. "Well. Fine, then. Idiot. I love you, too."

Ramirez returned with some papers, and Rourke signed them. Mandy sat down on the couch beside Jason and studied Kylie. "Idiot," she murmured quietly. "I knew when I noticed those eyes and did a bit of math. For someone so smart..." She smiled. "I always wanted a daughter."

Rourke stood by the door, reading the other papers Ramirez had given him, his face deliberately blank.

"Did you give him my statement as well?" Jason asked the detective.

Ramirez nodded as Rourke finished the last page. Very, very calmly, he walked over and handed them to his wife. Then, not saying a word, he looked at Kylie a moment, turned, and walked carefully out of the room, closing the door behind him.

She watched him walk away, then looked down at the papers, paling. "Oh, fuck. Officer, you need to stop him, or you're going to lose your suspect."

Ramirez hesitated, then nodded disgustedly and hurried after him.

Jason looked at Mrs. Rourke. "If it wouldn't put him in jail, I could live with that."

She turned the page. "So could I," she said calmly.

"If it's okay with you, I'd like you to let my dad see those when you're done. I want him to understand..." His voice broke, for just an instant, before he looked down at Kylie as she whimpered and opened her eyes. "Kylie, love, you're okay."

"Jason? What..." She remembered, and her eyes went wide. She looked around fearfully, cringing against him when she saw Mike. His father flinched, looking like someone just kicked him in the balls.

"Kylie, you're safe. He won't hurt you. No one will." He looked at Mrs. Rourke. "Can I tell her?"

Mandy finished reading the last page, and looked up with tear-filled eyes. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, and handed the papers to Mike.

Jason looked down at Kylie, stroking her face. "We know who you're real father is, and you're going to be living with him and his wife. You're going to be safe."

"NO! Don't leave me! I don't want to go!" she said.

"It's Mr. Rourke, Kylie."

Kylie clung to him, shaking so hard it had to hurt. "W-what?"

"Mr. Rourke is your real father, almost certainly," he said.

Kylie looked over at Mandy, who nodded and tried to smile. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll take care of you. You'll be safe, I promise."

"I ... I don't know ... how? How do you know?"

"Your mother said so, when you were born, apparently, before she left. And the blood types match. And your eyes," Jason said.

The door opened, and Mr. Rourke was led back in, hands cuffed in front of him. Ramirez closed the door and looked at him. "Mr. Rourke, if you do that again I will be forced to arrest you for assault and attempted murder. I really should do it this time, but..." His voice dropped. "I understand. I can't be so lenient a second time. Don't worry about him; your daughter needs you." He nodded to Kylie, who was staring wide eyed at Rourke. "Can I take the cuffs off?"

Rourke growled, then sighed, holding out his hands. His knuckles were cut and bleeding. "Don't let him get away. He's a dead man if he gets away." Ramirez nodded and unlocked the cuffs, taking them with him as he left.