Adopt-A-Dad. Marion Lennox
their attention from Jenny’s desk to his inner sanctum. From outside the room, the walls looked like mirrored glass. They’d see nothing and they’d hear nothing.
“Is anyone in there? Mr. Lord, could you come out please? We need to speak to you.” The voice of the older of the men seemed accustomed to command. The two of them looked annoyed, but nothing more. This wasn’t a pair of menacing thugs. There wasn’t a gun in sight.
More knocking, exasperated this time. They were bureaucrats, Michael thought. So what on earth was Jenny scared of?
And then there was a female voice, and Michael sighed with relief as he saw Ellie enter Jenny’s office. Ellie Maitland was the hospital administrator and the only person who’d know the security screens and bolts had come down in his office. A small red light would have flashed on her desk as the screens dropped. She’d figure that for some unknown reason Michael was in trouble or else there’d been a mistake, but Ellie wasn’t the sort to assume he’d made a mistake without checking.
She should have telephoned, Michael thought grimly, instead of coming, but the gray-suited visitors didn’t look physically threatening. Ellie certainly didn’t think they did.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
She cast a flickering glance at Jenny’s desk, and Michael knew she’d noticed the opened drawer and the shifted jumble of papers on the desktop. She’d be puzzled, trying to figure out what was going on, but nothing of that was sounding in her voice.
“We’re here to see Mrs. Morrow,” the older suit said.
“Mrs….” There was a trace of uncertainty in Ellie’s voice, as if she was trying to place the name—which she wouldn’t be. Ellie knew the names of every one of her staff members and every detail of their lives, right down to what they’d had for breakfast that morning. Her uncertainty was assumed, buying time. Finally her voice cleared. “Oh, you mean Mr. Lord’s secretary, Jenny.”
“That’s right.” The voice was in no mood for hesitation. “Where is she?”
Silence. Michael couldn’t suppress a grin as Ellie gazed around the outer office with helpful and entirely assumed stupidity.
“She doesn’t seem to be here.”
“Can you open the inner office, please?”
“It’s the office of our security chief,” she apologized. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I don’t have authorization. Isn’t Mr. Lord inside?”
“He’s not answering, and we need to check. We’re from the Department of Immigration.” There was a pause as two ID cards were produced. In Michael’s arms, Jenny quivered once and was still. “Open, please.”
“I still can’t do that,” Ellie said apologetically. “Unless you people have a warrant.”
“We don’t have a warrant.”
“Has Mr. Lord done something illegal?”
“No. It’s Mrs. Morrow we’re interested in.”
“But she’s not here.” Once more, her tone conveyed helpful stupidity.
“She may be in with Mr. Lord.”
“If Michael was in his office then he’d answer the door.”
“Not if he was hiding someone.”
“Why on earth would he be hiding someone?” Ellie asked, exasperated. “Hiding Jenny, do you mean? Why would he be doing that? She’s been sitting out here for all the world to see for the past few months. She’s probably just gone to the ladies’ room. If you people would care to wait, there’s a coffee shop down the hall.”
“Contact Lord,” the older suit ordered.
Ellie visibly stiffened. “I beg your pardon.”
“If he’s your security chief, then you can contact him,” the man said brusquely. “Surely.”
“Of course I can contact him.”
“Do it.”
Ellie practically bristled, and once more Michael had to suppress a grin. Jenny was still struggling in an attempt to reach the back door, as if the men could burst in any minute, but there was no chance of that. Ellie might have a key to his office on the bunch at her waist, but by their rudeness, Jenny had just gained herself a powerful ally. Once annoyed, Ellie was one mean opponent.
But Ellie didn’t refuse to contact him. She gazed at the two men for a long, considering moment, then raised the cell phone at her belt. She dialed, and the phone on Michael’s hip vibrated.
“Shh. It’s okay. They can’t hear us. But stay right here! That’s an order.” He put a hand on Jenny’s hair in reassurance and gently moved her away from him, then pressed her into the chair by his desk. He fixed her with a look, waited until he was sure she wouldn’t argue, and then he pushed the response button on his phone.
“Yes?”
“Michael?”
“I’m right here, Ellie.” There was nothing in his voice to suggest he could see her, and there was nothing in hers to suggest she knew he probably could. “What can I do for you?”
“There are two gentlemen in your office from…” She paused, and Michael saw her lift one of the men’s cards from his hand, then the other. “From the Department of Immigration. A Mr. Harness and his associate, Mr. Gibbs. They’re looking for Mrs. Morrow.”
“For Jenny?” He deliberately spoke loudly, so they’d hear what he said through Ellie’s handpiece. It was lucky he’d checked these screens for soundproofing, he thought. “What do they want with Jenny?”
“I have no idea. Will you tell me where she is?”
Will you tell me where she is… Great, Michael thought wryly. He had no idea what was going on, and until he found out, he had no intention of handing Jenny over, but he still didn’t like lying. If Jenny was involved in something illegal, he didn’t want to get any more involved than he already was. Will you tell me where she is let him off the hook nicely.
He deflected things. “I’ve given Jenny the rest of the day off,” he said. “I’ll be out of the office myself this afternoon.”
“The officers want to interview her.”
“What for?” he asked mildly, and watched through the glass as Ellie turned and put her question to the officers.
“Why do you need to speak to Jenny?”
He half expected no reply, but they answered, maybe seeing no risk in letting Ellie know their business, and with the intercom on he could hear every word. “Her entry visa expires on Monday,” the older man said. “She’s due to leave the country.”
“But it’s only Thursday.” Ellie frowned. “If I remember correctly, she’s due to finish up here on Friday—tomorrow. She’s British, isn’t she? I assumed she’d be flying home then.”
“According to our information she’s eight months pregnant,” the officer snapped. “The airlines won’t carry women on international flights when pregnancy is so advanced.”
“That’s hardly my business,” Ellie said mildly. “But I don’t employ illegal immigrants. Nor does Jenny expect me to. I remember Jenny made it very clear when she applied for the job that she’d only be working here for a few months.”
“So she’ll be back tomorrow?”
“I imagine so.” Ellie glanced at her watch, signifying her time was short and not to be wasted. “I believe the secretarial staff is having farewell drinks for her in the cafeteria tomorrow afternoon. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“Do you have her home address?”
“I do.” Ellie