Pregnant For The Alpha I Never Met

Desperation

MILLIE'S POV

Will Reid's office was nothing like I expected.

I'd imagined something sleek and modern, maybe intimidating. Instead, we were sitting in a converted brownstone in a quiet neighborhood, surrounded by filing cabinets, whiteboards covered in notes, and stacks of case files that looked like they might topple over at any moment.

"Organized chaos," Will said, catching my expression.

He was younger than I'd expected…mid-thirties, with dark hair, sharp eyes, and the kind of face that probably made people underestimate him.

"I know where everything is. That's what matters."

Braham sat beside me, his presence steady and grounding. On the desk between us and Will were copies of everything we'd found…the letters, the financial records, my mother's final message to me.

Will had been reading through them for the past twenty minutes in complete silence.

Finally, he looked up.

"This is good," he said. "Really good. But you need to understand what we're up against here."

"Twenty-one years," I said quietly. "I know."

"It's not just the time." He leaned back in his chair. "It's what happens to evidence after that long. Witnesses forget details. Records get lost or destroyed. Physical evidence deteriorates. And without a body to exhume…"

"Wait." I sat forward. "Why can't we exhume her body?"

Will exchanged a glance with Braham. "Your mother was cremated, Ms. Harvey. There's nothing to exhume."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What?"

"According to the death certificate, her remains were cremated three days after her death." Will pulled up a document on his computer and turned the screen toward me. "Your father signed the authorization."

I stared at the form, at my father's signature scrawled across the bottom. "He... he never told me that. I was four. I thought... I thought she was buried."

"There's a memorial stone at Riverside Cemetery," Will said gently. "But no body beneath it."

My hands clenched into fists. Of course my father had her cremated. Of course he'd destroyed any physical evidence that might have remained.

"So we have nothing," I said, my voice flat.

"We have plenty," Will corrected. "We have documented evidence of blackmail. We have multiple witnesses…these letter writers…who can testify to Sabrina's suspicious behavior. And we have your mother's own written testimony that she feared for her life."

"But no proof of actual murder."

"Not yet." He pulled out a legal pad and started making notes. "But here's what we do. First, I track down these letter writers. Eleanor, Margaret, whoever else warned your mother. People remember traumatic events. If your mother died shortly after they sent these warnings, they'll remember."

"What if they're dead? Or moved away?"

"Then we find their families. Their friends. Anyone who might have information." Will was writing quickly now. "Second, I pull every medical record I can find. Hospital admissions, doctor's visits, test results. I want to see exactly what the doctors were seeing."

"The death certificate says 'Acute Multi-Organ Failure - Undetermined Origin,'" Braham said. "No clear cause."

"Which is suspicious in itself," Will noted. "Healthy twenty-eight-year-old women don't just die of organ failure for no reason. There's always a cause. The question is whether anyone looked hard enough to find it."

"So what could cause that?" I asked. "Organ failure with no diagnosis?"

"Poison," Will said bluntly. "Certain toxins can cause exactly that kind of presentation…multiple organs failing, no clear infectious or genetic cause. And twenty years ago, the testing wasn't as sophisticated as it is now. If the doctors didn't know what to look for, they might have missed it."

My stomach turned. "What kind of poison?"

"That's what I need to find out. I'll need to talk to toxicologists, review what tests were actually run back then." He made another note. "I'm also going to look into Sabrina's background. Where she came from, what she was doing before she started working for your mother, any criminal history."

"She's never been arrested," I said. "I would have known."

"Not arrested doesn't mean not dangerous," Will pointed out. "Maybe she has a pattern. Maybe your mother wasn't the first person she targeted."

The thought sent chills down my spine.

"There's something else," Braham said. "The financial records show payments to a Dr. Ben Shaw. He wasn't June's regular physician."

Will's fingers flew across his keyboard. "Ben Shaw... got it. License revoked in 2005 for unethical practices." He read further, his expression darkening. "He was prescribing unnecessary medications, falsifying records, and accepting payments from pharmaceutical companies for pushing certain drugs."

"Was he investigated?" I asked.

"Briefly. But he died in 2006 before any criminal charges could be filed." Will looked up. "Convenient timing."

"Can we find out what he prescribed to my mother?"

"I can try. Medical records that old aren't always digitized, but pharmacies keep records. If your mother filled any prescriptions Dr. Shaw wrote, there should be a paper trail."

“But…” I trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"There's one more possibility," Will added. "Hospitals sometimes keep blood samples from unusual cases, especially when the cause of death is undetermined. If your mother's samples still exist at St. Catherine's, we could test them with modern techniques that weren't available in 2004. It's a long shot, but worth pursuing."

I pulled out my phone and showed him a photo I'd taken of the financial records. "These are the dates my mother paid him. Maybe they correspond with prescriptions?"

Will studied the image. "Smart. Yeah, this helps. I'll cross-reference these dates with pharmacy records." He paused. "One more thing. You said Sabrina worked as your mother's assistant. Do you know how she got the job?"

I shook my head. "I was too young to remember."

"I'll find out. Employment records, references, how she was hired. If she specifically sought out your mother or if it was random chance."

"You think she targeted my mother deliberately?"

"I think your mother was a wealthy woman married to a man who was clearly having an affair. That makes her vulnerable. And vulnerability attracts predators." Will closed his laptop. "Here's what I need from you both. First, don't talk to Sabrina. Don't confront her, don't let her know we're investigating."

"She already knows something's up," I said. "She showed up at Braham's estate yesterday, begging me to drop the charges against Martha. And she said..." I swallowed hard. "She said my mother got exactly what she deserved."

Will's eyes sharpened. "She said that? Those exact words?"

"Yes."

"That's interesting." He made a note. "That could be taken as an admission of guilt, depending on context. Did anyone else hear it?"

"Braham was there. And security cameras probably caught it."

"Good. I'll need that footage." Will stood up. "This is going to take time. Weeks, maybe months. Cold cases always do. But Ms. Harvey, I want you to understand something. If Sabrina killed your mother, we will find proof. It might take every resource I have, but we will find it."

I stood as well, feeling something like hope flicker in my chest. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when Sabrina's in handcuffs." He walked us to the door. "One more thing. Be careful. If Sabrina realizes we're investigating your mother's death, she might do something desperate. Keep your security tight."

"Already done," Braham said.

Outside, the afternoon sun felt too bright after the dimness of Will's office. I leaned against Braham's car, suddenly exhausted.

"You okay?" he asked.

"My mother was cremated," I said quietly. "All this time, I thought she was buried at Riverside. I used to imagine visiting her grave when I was older, talking to her. But there's nothing there."

"There's a memorial. You can still visit."

"It's not the same." I looked up at him. "And my father knew. He signed the papers. He had her cremated three days after she died. Braham, what if he was in on it? What if he helped Sabrina kill her?"

"We don't know that yet."

"But it's possible." The thought made me feel sick. "My own father. Helping to murder my mother so he could be with Sabrina."

Braham pulled me into his arms. "We'll find out the truth. All of it. And whoever was responsible will pay."

I let myself lean against him for a moment, drawing strength from his solid presence.

My phone buzzed. A text from Callie: Leo's asking when you're coming home. Should I start dinner?

Reality crashed back. Leo. Home. The normal life I was trying to build while simultaneously tearing apart my past.

"We should go," I said, pulling away. "Leo needs us."

On the drive back, I stared out the window, my mind spinning.

Will Reid would investigate. He'd track down witnesses, pull medical records, build a case. It would take time. Maybe months.

Could I wait that long?

Could I sit at dinners and tuck Leo into bed and pretend everything was normal while knowing my mother's killer was still out there, free?

"I can hear you thinking," Braham said.

"I want to talk to her."

"No."

"Braham…"

"No, Millie. Will specifically said not to confront her. If you tip her off that we're investigating, she could destroy evidence. She could run. She could…"

"She could what? Kill me too?" I laughed bitterly. "She already tried to have my son kidnapped. What's she going to do that's worse than that?"

"Don't tempt fate."

I fell silent, but my mind was already working.

Sabrina was desperate. Broke. Her daughter was in jail, her husband was in jail, and now I was coming after her.

Desperate people made mistakes.

And maybe, just maybe, I could use that desperation to get the confession Will Reid couldn't find in twenty-one-year-old records.