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Once they’d finished their conversation, Sloan headed for the elevators. He waited until a car arrived, then stepped in and pressed the button for six, wishing to hell this hadn’t played out the way it had.
But there’d simply been no talking to Billy Fitz. He wasn’t a patient man and he wanted out of prison yesterday. So after Morgan had recommended against a transfer...
The elevator slowed, nearing the sixth floor. As the doors opened, Sloan squared his shoulders.
The last thing he wanted to do was tell Hayley Morgan her son had been kidnapped. When you worked for Billy, though, you followed orders. Otherwise, you ended up floating in Lake Pontchar-train.
He strode down the hall, reminding himself his work had its rewards. But this session sure wouldn’t be one of them.
When he reached Hayley’s office she was sitting behind her desk again, every bit as appealing as she’d been the first time he’d seen her. He barely had time to think that a woman in her line of work just shouldn’t look the way she did before she glanced through the doorway and met his gaze—making him wish, once more, that he didn’t have to do this.
Without taking her dark eyes from him, she slowly sat back in her chair. She obviously wasn’t pleased to see him, even without knowing why he’d come.
“I have to talk to you,” he told her.
Hayley glanced at her desk clock, wishing she had a legitimate reason for telling Sloan Reeves she had no time to talk. She didn’t like him. Didn’t like what he stood for.
And she particularly didn’t like the fact that she was so aware of his animal magnetism.
Just looking at him did funny things to her, which made her very uncomfortable. She couldn’t recall her brain and her body ever being completely out of sync before, and the sense that they were when it came to him was most disconcerting.
“It’s urgent,” he said. “And personal,” he added, stepping into the office.
When he closed her door, isolating the two of them from her co-workers, her sense of discomfort grew.
“I prefer that open,” she told him.
“As I said, this is personal.” Leaving the door shut, he sat down in the visitor’s chair.
Her anxiety level began edging higher, even though there was no logical reason it should. Her brain was in charge, not her body. And being alone with him didn’t represent any actual danger.
Lord, how many times had she been alone in interview rooms with prisoners? Too many to remember. So being in her own office with Sloan Reeves, attorney at law, shouldn’t faze her in the slightest.
The problem, she decided, was simply that he was Billy Fitzgerald’s lawyer. She could certainly live without some lawyer to the mob walking into her office—on two consecutive Mondays yet—and taking charge.
Leaning forward in his chair, he said, “Billy was disappointed you didn’t support his transfer request.”
She let that pass, although it struck her as strange that he was still working at intimidating her after the fact.
“You see, applying for it was part of an escape plan. He intended to make a break while he was being transported from Poquette.”
For a moment she was so stunned she couldn’t speak. Then she said, “And you were helping him try to get the transfer? Mr. Reeves, does the word disbarred mean anything to you?”
Never mind disbarred, he’d probably go to prison. Sloan Reeves was nothing but a criminal in lawyer’s clothing.
But why in the world had he confided in her? He must realize she’d tell Warden Armstrong. Along with a few other people.
“Just hear me out,” he said. “Unfortunately, when you deep-sixed that transfer—”
“Look, I don’t want to hear you out.” Her opinion of Sloan Reeves, not high to begin with, sank lower each time he opened his mouth. “In fact, I don’t want to listen to anything more at all. I’d like you to leave.” She had better things to do than waste another minute with him.
“Not until I’m finished. Trust me, you need to hear the rest.”
She didn’t trust him any more than she respected him, but something in his expression made her decide against calling Security.
“All right,” she said, slowly sitting back in her chair. “What’s the rest?”
“Billy wants you to help him. As you know, breaking out from inside Poquette is practically impossible. He’d likely end up dead if he tried it.”
“He wants me to help him escape.” She could scarcely believe that was what Reeves was saying, even though it clearly was.
“Yes. We had a solid plan, but you screwed it up. So he wants you to help figure out some other way of getting him on the outside.”
“Are you insane? Why on earth would I?”
When he didn’t reply, she just sat watching him. If he seriously thought she’d—
“Hayley...is it okay if I call you that?”
She nodded. For all she cared he could call her Lady Godiva—just as long as he finished what he was obviously determined to say and left.
“Good. And please call me Sloan, because we’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other for the next little while.”
In your dreams, she said silently. She intended to blow the whistle as soon as he left.
“I’ve got to tell you something that will frighten you. But try not to panic, because it isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds.”
He hesitated, eyeing her, then continued. “A couple of Billy’s men have your son. They picked him up just a few minutes ago, while he was out riding his bike.”
The world froze around her and her heart froze inside her chest.
“Max is perfectly safe,” he added quickly. “I swear he is. And I promise he’ll stay that way as long as you cooperate.”
She almost couldn’t hear his words over the thunder in her head. A couple of Billy Fitzgerald’s men had Max! She’d never felt such utter terror before, and when she tried to speak the words caught in her throat.
“Look...I can’t tell you how sorry I am this has happened,” Sloan said. “But—”
“I want my son back,” she whispered fiercely. “Right now.”
“I know.”
“Then get him back for me!”
“I can’t. Not—”
“What kind of man are you!” Her entire body trembling, she pushed herself out of her chair and stood glaring across the desk at him. “You’re trying to help Fitzgerald plan a prison break? You let his men kidnap an innocent child? Are you a monster?”
He shook his head. “I don’t ‘let’ either Billy or the people who work for him do anything. Sometimes he tells me what he’s thinking about and asks my opinion. But even then my advice doesn’t always carry much weight with him.
“Your son’s going to be fine, though. I’ll ensure you get him back safely. I just can’t do it until Billy. gives the okay. And that won’t be until he gets what he wants.”
“Oh, God,” she murmured, choking back a sob.
“Hayley, all you have to do is help him out. And as long as he can count on your silence, no harm will come to either you or Max.”
She ordered herself to calm down. As frantic as she felt, it was essential she think straight.
All she had to do was help Billy out. Enter into a conspiracy to help a convicted felon escape from prison. Betray the trust the State of Louisiana had placed in her. Knowing that if anyone ever learned what she’d done, the career that meant so much to her would be over.
Her career would be over? How about she’d end up in prison herself if she got caught? After all, she’d be breaking a hundred different laws.
But what would happen to her didn’t matter. All that mattered was what would happen to Max. And if by agreeing to go along with this...
“No one will ever know you played any part,” Sloan said. “I guarantee that. However it gets set up, Billy will arrange things so it doesn’t look like an insider was involved.”
She took a slow, deep breath. Helping with a prison break wasn’t something she’d ever in a million years have thought she’d consider. But right this minute that was exactly what she was doing. Because if she didn’t agree...
“Just help him out and you’ll get Max back safe and sound,” Sloan was saying. “That’s the deal he’s offering you, and even his enemies admit he’s a man of his word.”
Was that true? Was it something she could believe, something to give herself a ray of hope? If she did conspire with the devil, would it really save her son? Or would they simply kill both Max and her in the end anyway?
Was William Fitzgerald actually a man of his word or not? Think. What was the likelihood?
Most psychopaths were consummate liars, yet that didn’t mean they were compulsive liars. And she’d run across a few who’d actually taken pride in keeping their word. They’d just been careful not to give it very often.
Staring down at her desk, telling herself she wasn’t going to cry, she tried to stop her fears from tumbling all over one another. She simply couldn’t fall apart.
“Hayley,” Sloan said, “I tried my damedest to convince Billy that taking Max was a bad idea. But when I couldn’t, I volunteered to act as go-between. You’ll be better off dealing with me than with some of the others he might have chosen.”
“I see.” She took a deep breath, still not looking up. Before she met Sloan’s gaze again, she had to recover enough control to keep from telling him that she’d like to see him hung by his thumbs and flayed. If he was the go-between, angering him would be a very bad move.
What would be a good move, though? Calling the police the minute he left? Or the FBI?
No. How could she do that when Max’s life was at stake? How could she do anything other than what Fitzgerald wanted?
For the moment, at least until she pulled herself back from the edge of hysteria, the only smart thing to. do was say she’d try to help. Then, when she was thinking more rationally, she could figure out if there was any other realistic course of action. One that wouldn’t end up with her and Max dead. In the meantime, she had to see if she could make what was happening less traumatic for him.
Desperately wishing she had more bargaining power than she did, she focused on her visitor once more.
When Hayley finally looked at Sloan again, her eyes were filled with foreboding. And pure, unadulterated hatred.
Even though it was exactly what he’d been expecting, it made him feel hollow inside. There were aspects of his job he downright loathed.
“All right,” she murmured. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief, even though he’d been certain she’d agree. “The men who have Max, who’ll be looking after him, have kids of their own,” he offered. “He’ll be just fine with them. But would you like to talk to him? Assure yourself that he really is all right?”
“Of course I would!”
“Then we’ll call him. I want you to phone your sitter first, though. So she doesn’t start worrying. And before you do, we’ve got to agree on a story. One that’ll explains why Max will be gone from home for a while.”
“A while,” she repeated. “How long is a while? How long is this going to take?”
“That’ll depend. The sooner Billy’s out, the sooner—”
“But there’s no guarantee he will get out, no guarantee I’ll be able to help him.”
Her voice was shaky, as if she were hanging on to her self-control by nothing more than her fingernails. Sloan tried to ignore the pang of sympathy he felt.
“Even if it turns out I can help, it won’t happen overnight. And I can’t go indefinitely without seeing Max. At the very least, I want to spend a couple of hours with him every evening.”
“Billy’d never agree to that.”
“Dammit, the man’s sitting in a prison cell and he wants me to help get him out of it. He wants me to risk my job. Maybe risk my life, depending on what happens. And I might do that. But I don’t want Max suffering any more trauma than he has to. And being separated from his mother for any length of time... Sloan, you just have to make Fitzgerald understand I won’t try to help him unless I get to see my son. That simply isn’t negotiable.”
He knew she was bluffing. Now that she’d said she’d go along with them, she’d do whatever she had to. And if that included not seeing Max for the duration, she’d accept it.
She was right about nothing happening overnight, though. It could be weeks, possibly months, before they managed to spring Billy. And hell, it wasn’t hard to imagine how tough having no contact would be on both her and the boy.
He tried telling himself that was just the way kidnappings worked, but it didn’t do any good. He might have to help Billy but he didn’t have to like what the man was doing. And if he could make this nightmare easier for Hayley and her son to get through, why shouldn’t he?
If he couldn’t, at least he’d feel better knowing that he’d tried. “All right,” he said at last. “I’ll speak to Billy and see what I can do.”
CHAPTER THREE
STILL SHAKEN TO THE CORE, Hayley dialed Anne Kelly’s number, not at all sure she’d get through the conversation without breaking down.
But she had to. If Anne realized something terrible had happened to Max, she might call the cops. And if that happened, Lord only knew what would become of him.
As Anne’s phone began to ring, Hayley looked across her desk at Sloan, thinking she’d never despised a man more. And that included every single murderer and rapist she’d encountered in the course of her work.
Almost without exception, they’d had everything going against them from birth, whereas Sloan Reeves had everything anyone could ask for—brains, looks, an easy manner and a good education. So how could he be warped enough to be part of Billy Fitzgerald’s sordid scheme?
“Hello?” Anne answered.
She took a deep breath, then said, “Hi, it’s Hayley.”
“Oh, hi.”
“Anne, I did something so absentminded I just can’t believe it. I forgot to tell you I asked a couple of friends to pick up Max from your place this afternoon.”
“Well, that’s all right, you’re telling me now. He’s out riding his bike but—”
“No, what I mean is my friends already got him. They saw him down the block so they didn’t bother going to your house. Max is here with me now, and it wasn’t until they walked into my office that I realized I’d forgotten to call you.
“I guess things have just been in such a turmoil that I wasn’t thinking straight. You see, my custody agreement gives Max’s father the right to have him for part of the summer. And...well, it’s a long involved story, but the bottom line is that his father phoned late last night and I’m putting Max on a plane to Pittsburgh at four o’clock. So he’ll be away for a while. Exactly how long’s still kind of up in the air. But as soon as we decide when he’ll be coming home I’ll let you know.”
“Hayley? Your ex isn’t trying to get custody, is he?” Anne asked, her voice filled with concern.
