Missionary Daddy by Linda Goodnight Page A

co-workers, he was taking no chances.
    “After the threatening note Kelly received on the Fourth of July, I’m worried about everyone.” Ross offered a crooked smile. “Maybe a little more about Kelly since she’s my pregnant wife.” He tapped the letter to the editor. “Whoever we’ve upset by reopening all these old adoption cases is getting more agitated by the day. This latest demand for Jared to stop writing articles about the investigation is vehement.”
    Eric scanned the scathing letter. “No kidding. Do you think we need to hire a security guard for the agency?”
    “I’ve talked to Kelly about that, but she’s adamant. To her way of thinking, if we hire security or display a police presence, prospective parents will be afraid to come here.”
    “She has a point. Kelly works hard to make the place inviting and comfortable for the families and the women who trust us to find homes for their babies.”
    Besides the well-appointed rooms where adoptive parents relaxed on plush sofas and had refreshments while taking parenting classes, the agency provided a playground in back for foster kids in their program. The walls were lined with happy photos of children who had been adopted through the agency over the years. Kelly’s office even boasted a fireplace for those chilly winter days when a fire and hot cocoa made life seem a little brighter. The old building had intentionally been decorated to relax and reassure.
    “I urged the Harcourt family to be alert, as well,” Ross said. “They have a good security system already in place but since we don’t know who we’re dealing with, we can’t be certain that’s enough.”
    Eric rose from his desk and went to the window. The mention of anything concerning Sam made him jumpy. Last night he’d upset her and today he couldn’t get her out of his head. Ah, what was he thinking? He’d had Samantha in his head for over a year.
    “I’m not sure why anyone would be worried about the Harcourts. Their part in this is long past.”
    “That old mansion holds a lot of secrets, Eric. Maybe someone is afraid more will be uncovered.”
    “Like Ben’s forged adoption records?” Eric asked softly.
    Out on the playground beyond the patio, a swing moved gently in the summer breeze, a reminder that this building was about children. Forgeries and attempted murder seemed so out of place. Lately, he worried the agency’s problems would wing their way across the ocean and cause problems. Problems neither he, Matunde nor Amani needed right now. At those times, he questioned his decision to come here. Daily he prayed that nothing happened to stop the adoption of his boys.
    “If one wall of the house secreted documents,” Ross said, “others could, too. The Harcourts need to be aware they might be sitting on a powder keg.”
    Having never considered that Samantha might be in danger, Eric wondered why she didn’t go back to Chicago where she belonged. She claimed to be reevaluating, whatever that meant. But small, provincial Chestnut Grove held nothing for a woman like her.
    “The Harcourts are nearly finished with the remodeling,” he said, turning to prop a hip on the windowsill. “But short of tearing the house down, how could anyone find out what else Barnaby might have hidden there?”
    Ross took a stress ball from Eric’s desk and tossed it back and forth between his palms. “Lindsay Morrow would have burned the place if she thought she could conceal the truth about her husband’s indiscretions. Whoever wants things kept quiet this go-round could be just as demented.”
    The issue with the mayor and his mentally deranged wife had happened more than a year before Eric had moved to Chestnut Grove. But Eric had been apprised of the former problems. Problems that wouldn’t go away even though Lindsay Morrow was now institutionalized.
    Someone was still very determined to protect a long-ago secret.
    An idea flitted through Eric’s head. Sam’s family was the