a degree of helplessness that McNair looked unaccustomed to acknowledging.
“She’s not from around here. As far as I know, she has no friends in the area. None that she ever went out with or even mentioned. For the most part, she stayed on the estate. She was very devoted to me and to Andrew.”
Ben noted the order McNair had used. To me and to Andrew. But then, as the man said, he was new at being a father and hadn’t had the luxury of experience to fall back on.
Sometimes all the experience and time in the world didn’t help change the overall picture, Ben thought. His father had walked out on not only his mother, but on him, when he was thirteen. Being a father of four children hadn’t made Jake Underwood any less the center of his own universe.
Still, whatever the order used, the word devoted had certain connotations. Ben was counting on them. “So you’re pretty certain that she wouldn’t hurt Andrew?”
There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation. “Yes, I’m reasonably certain that she wouldn’t do anything crazy like that. As I said, she’s just doing this to get back at me.”
“Are you sure there wasn’t some sort of note?” Ben prodded. “Conditions she wanted met before she returned your son?”
Maybe, for his own reasons, McNair was lying about there not being a note. It did seem highly unlikely that, given the circumstances, Gloria Prescott would allow this opportunity to slip by. Kidnappings happened for a variety of reasons, the least of which was revenge. But if this was for revenge, it was running atypical to form.
“No.” Exasperation peppered McNair’s voice. “I suspect she was too angry to write anything. Besides, I already know her conditions. She’d want to take up where we’d left off. She wanted me to marry her.”
In his experience, grasping people tended to want money, Ben thought. Or at least power. Silence was not the order of the day. He wondered again if there was something McNair was holding back. “And she hasn’t attempted to get in contact with you?” Ben asked.
“No,” McNair snapped. He took a deep breath, composing himself. With shaky fingers he dug into his pocket and took out a half-empty pack of cigarettes. “My one vice,” he explained, holding the pack up. “Other than falling for beautiful women. Do you mind?”
Ben was surprised that the man even bothered to ask. McNair struck him as someone who did as he pleased. Ben inclined his head, taking out a small ceramic ashtray from his side drawer and placing it on the desk. He didn’t smoke, but he understood the need.
“Thanks.” McNair lit up and inhaled. His eyes closed for a moment, as if he were having a spiritual experience. When he opened them again, he looked calmer, more capable of continuing. “If Gloria had left a note, I would have been taking care of this myself.” He glanced toward the closed door. “Is Townsend around? Maybe he…?”
It obviously rankled McNair to deal with anyone who wasn’t the top man. “Cade’s out of town on a case. The caseload is pretty heavy. Right now, I appear to be all you have at your disposal.”
McNair wouldn’t have been where he was if he wasn’t good at damage control. A smile nothing short of charming creased his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fly off the handle that way earlier. I can usually keep my temper under wraps, it’s just that this is all completely new to me. Being a father, being a kidnap victim…”
“Strictly speaking, Andrew’s the kidnap victim, but don’t feel bad, this kind of thing usually is new to everyone. Now, if you’ll make yourself comfortable, I still have a few more questions to ask you.” Ben saw the slight frown on McNair’s face reemerge. “I’ll try to make this as painless for you as possible.”
McNair looked at his watch before answering. Ben saw the flash of a Rolex. Nothing but the best, he thought.
“All right,” Stephen agreed. “But I have to be back at a meeting in an hour.”
He’d never run into a kidnap victim’s father who’d set a time limit before. Took all kinds, Ben supposed. “You’ll be back sooner than that.”
As Ben got out his pad, he wondered just when Stephen McNair had found the time to even father a child.
She frowned slightly as she settled in. She wasn’t used to lying and this was certainly lying. Big time. It was going to take a great deal of practice and care on her part. One misstep and people were going to begin suspecting that something wasn’t right.
And once suspicions were aroused…
She didn’t want to go there. There was far too much at stake for her to dwell on the consequences. There was no point in thinking about losing everything, it would only paralyze her.
For a moment, she paused in the doorway, looking into the small room the little boy had taken as his own. It was remarkable how resilient he was. She could stand to learn a thing or two from him about rolling with the punches and bouncing back.
He’d thrown off the covers again. Quietly, she crept into the room, careful not to make any noise that might wake him.
Very softly, she draped the comforter around his small body. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, she passed it ever so lightly against his cheek. He meant everything to her.
“Sweet dreams, sweet prince,” she whispered before withdrawing.
She kept the door slightly ajar so she could hear him calling if he needed her. He was having those nightmares again.
She slipped into bed. It was early, but she was tired. Lately, she’d been so drained. But then, she had reason enough to be. Before she fell asleep, as she did every night now, she thanked God for a new chance. A new chance to finally, perhaps, find peace and make her life work.
Work for her and for the little boy she loved.
About to leave, Ben saw a pencil-thin ray of light slipping out from beneath the door of Eliza’s office. Savannah had mentioned that the woman had just wrapped up the case she’d been working on.
Rapping once on her door, Ben opened it and peeked in. Eliza was looking through one of the files that were spread out all over her desk and glanced in his direction. Her smile was warmth itself.
“I didn’t think there’d be anyone still in the office. Don’t you have a home to go to?” Ben asked.
“I could say the same to you,” she replied.
He leaned against the doorjamb. “Caught a new case this afternoon.” He peered at the agency’s newest partner. “You feeling all right?”
“Not enough sleep lately,” she confessed with a shrug. “I’ve been having dreams lately.”
“Dreams, or dreams?” he asked.
They both knew what he meant by the emphasis. One of her “seeing” dreams. The ones that crept up out of the dark and wouldn’t give her peace until she solved the puzzle they came from. The ones she’d been blessed, or plagued with, depending on the point of view, since she’d turned twelve. “The latter.”
He looked at her with eyes that silently communicated his sympathy. “Know what it’s about yet?”
