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her.”
                  “It’s not her.” He stated it as a fact.
                  “How can you be so sure?” I asked.
                  “Because she is a tramp who is not interested in having a child in her way,” his wife said. All three of us turned to look at her. Matt Branson looked furious. Blake and I were confused and curious to hear what else Julia Branson had to say.
                  “Julia…” her husband started.
                  “Mrs. Branson,” Blake interrupted. “Why would you hire a surrogate to have your child if you felt that way about her?”
                  “I didn’t hire her,” Julia said.
                  “That’s enough, Julia!” Matt told her through clenched teeth.
                  “No,” Blake said in his “No more B.S.” tone. “I’m finished playing games here. Either you come clean with me tonight, or you hire another bodyguard service and investigator.”
                  Matt Branson gave his wife another dirty look and then said, “I had an affair. I was in California on business and I met a young lady…”
                  “A tramp,” Julia corrected. “A slut who goes from one married man to the next.” That netted her another dirty look.
                  “She and I had a brief affair. I left California believing I would never see her again. She showed up on our doorstep three months later, claiming to be pregnant with my child. My wife…has been hesitant to have a baby and I’ve wanted one for the entire thirteen years that we’ve been married. We worked out a compromise.” Julia made a huffing noise that said that her husband might be playing fast and loose with the word, “compromise.”
                  “I need this woman’s name and contact information.”
                  “She signed the adoption papers and a confidentiality agreement,” Matt said. “It was all on the up and up and perfectly legal.”
                  “I’m not disputing any of that,” Blake said. “But surely when someone attempted to kidnap your daughter, the thought that her biological mother might have reason to be involved must have crossed your mind.”
                  “No, it didn’t,” he said.
                  “She’s nineteen years old,” Julia said with disgust in her voice.
                  She got another dirty look from her husband, he was sobering quickly. He got up and went over to pour himself another bourbon. His hand was shaking, and I had the feeling that had Blake not forced this, the truth would have never come out. I didn’t feel sorry for him however. Matt Branson was thirty-four years old. I’m not usually one to judge, but first of all he was married and second of all he had no business messing with a girl who at that time would have been eighteen years old.
    “She’s a barista at Starbucks and an aspiring actress. She wanted to have an abortion in the first place. She doesn’t want a child, and even if she did, she’d never have the resources to hire someone to help her kidnap Celia.”
                  “Neither did I…” Julia said, defiantly.
                  “So help me God, Julia, unless you want to pack a bag and get the hell out of here tonight, you need to shut your mouth!”
                  Julia laughed. “Really? How would you like the publicity?”
                  “Enough!” Blake ended that argument. “Listen carefully,” he said, “I’m walking out of here in five minutes and taking my men and your deposit with me unless one of you start talking to me about who this woman is and where I can find her. Whatever you two want to do about your train wreck of a marriage can be decided on your own time.” 
    Statements like that were why Blake’s business nearly went