Falling For The Enemy. Dawn Stewardson
what if something had gone wrong? Despite the air-conditioning, that possibility was enough to start him sweating.
Both O’Rourke and Sammy were family men, though. And he’d suggested that Billy choose them for the job because he’d figured neither would ever harm a six-year-old. Just as he was reminding himself of that, his cell phone rang.
“Sloan Reeves,” he answered.
“Got him,” O’Rourke said. “No problems.”
“And he’s okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. But he ain’t a happy camper.”
Sloan exhaled slowly, not wanting to even think about how frightened the boy must be. “Do your best to reassure him, huh? And tell him his mom’s going to phone him soon.”
“Sure.”
He just hoped that Hayley Morgan was in her office. Otherwise, soon might not be possible. “You’re being careful not to use your real names?”
“Yeah, of course. Sammy’s ‘Tom’ and I’m ‘Dick.’ Like the Smothers Brothers. How’re we gonna forget that?”
He hadn’t figured either O’Rourke or Sammy was old enough to remember the sixties folk-song duo. He barely was himself. But since they did, it should help them keep from slipping up.
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