Hallowed Bones by Carolyn Haines

She'd changed her blouse and now wore a red slipover that intensified her dark hair and fair skin. Arlin McLain was right. Doreen was stunning.
    "They've come to extradite you," I said.
    "Do you think they'd let me stop by the cemetery?"
    I shook my head. "I seriously doubt it. The officer would have to assume too much personal risk. Besides that, he seems like he's in a big hurry to get home."
    "Even if I make bail, they won't allow me to leave
New Orleans
," she said. "This may be my only chance to talk to Mama."
    I shook my head. "Forget it, Doreen. But there are some questions I need to ask you before you go, and we don't have much time."
    "Okay."
    "Who is Rebekah's father?"
    My question caught her totally by surprise. She started to say something, then stopped. "What difference does that make?" she asked.
    "A lot. If it is proven that someone murdered your baby, the next logical choice after you is the father."
    She was having trouble processing what I was saying. "That's ridiculous. Why would Rebekah's father want to hurt her?"
    "For the same reasons the police think you hurt her. And possibly one more--to hide the fact of his paternity."
    "This has no bearing on the case. I'm not going to tell you or anyone else. Rebekah's birth was a contract between me and the Divine. It had nothing to do with the father."
    Patience had never been one of my virtues. "Don't be a fool," I snapped. "I'm not interested in your claims of divinity or immaculate conception. I need the father's name and I need to check on him now."
    "No."
    She was as stubborn as a mule. "This isn't optional, Doreen. If I'm going to help you, I need this information."
    "It has no bearing. You have to trust me on this."
    A terrible suspicion was forming in my brain. "Do you know who the father is?"
    She looked straight into my eyes without the least bit of shame or remorse. "It could be one of several people."
    I didn't care what Doreen's sexual habits were, but I could see that this wasn't going to make her very sympathetic to a jury. It was one more little indication that a baby with multiple birth defects would have a negative impact on her lifestyle. Doreen's habits were going to make her trial a public nightmare for her lawyer. "Give me the names," I said, pulling a small notebook from my pocket.
    "No."
    Her chin was up and out. I wondered for a moment if sexual behavior was hereditary. She hadn't known anything about her mother, yet she'd followed in her footsteps.
    "Doreen, I saw the autopsy report. There's no doubt that someone killed your baby. Now, do you want that person to get away with it?"
    Pain crossed her face. "You really believe someone killed Rebekah? Who would do such a thing? And why? She wasn't going to live very long. Why would someone kill her?"
    Here was the shock and grief and anger I'd expected to see when I first met her. Perhaps Tinkie was right. Doreen had never believed her baby was murdered.
    "Tell me the names of the men you were sleeping with," I said.
    She sighed. "None of them even thought they were the father. I never wanted them to think about my baby as anything to do with themselves, and they were glad not to. They all assumed the baby belonged to someone else."
    "The list," I said relentlessly. If stubborn defined her, tenacity would be my prominent trait.
    "These men have no idea they might be the father." She gripped the bars. "They really aren't involved."
    I held my pen over the pad and waited.
    "What you're asking me to do is violate a type of confidence. I was helping these men."
    She had my attention. "Helping them?"
    Her gaze never wavered. "Love is the most powerful of all the weapons given a healer. Some men aren't capable of love. They link sex and love together so tightly that the only way to reach them is through sex."
    My expression must have registered my incredulity, because she shook her head and walked away, giving me her back.
    "I know it sounds like I'm making excuses or rationalizing my actions.