by Aimée Thurlo
“I haven’t heard from anyone.” She could feel the anger he kept in check with his iron will. She suspected it wouldn’t take much to have it come crashing to the surface.
He studied the closed box. “This bracelet belonged to my daughter. I recognize the little nick over the letter C. My father inscribed it for her. His hands shook at the time. Parkinson’s,” he added, glancing up. His gaze drifted down her body, lingering for a moment on her throat, then her breasts, searching and gaining knowledge far too intimate for strangers.
On impulse, Amanda used the silence stretching out between them to study him as thoroughly as he’d done her. She had to fight not to smile when she saw the glimmer of surprise on his face.
Ramos quickly drew back into himself, growing somber. “After all these years, the kidnappers finally get in touch. But the real bottom line is that they’ve chosen to contact me through you. Why do you think that is?”
“Maybe they want someone less...shall we say, unpredictable to deal with? I’m known in this town and have a very solid reputation as a businessperson and an active citizen.”
“Meaning I don’t.” He smiled, but it never reached his eyes.
Amanda shrugged. “You asked for a guess. I gave you one.”
Tony’s eyes were as dark as a summer storm. Finally he moved over to the window and glanced at the children playing outside. “I hope you’re playing straight with me, Amanda.” His tone made his words half prayer, half threat.
The way he said her name made a shiver course up her spine. “I am.” An unspoken challenge charged the air between them. She tried to appear in control, but her heart was racing with excitement. “I’ve told you all I know.”
“Good, because I can be very unpleasant when someone crosses me.” Ramos turned and trapped her gaze. “Given a choice, that’s not the way I’d like things to be between you and me.”
Amanda forced herself to remain very still. “Tell me, Mr. Ramos, which part of that was a threat, the first or the second?”
The corners of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t crack a smile. “You don’t rattle easily.”
“I can’t afford that luxury. I run a day-care center filled with toddlers,” she said, reminding herself to stay cool. Despite his charm and soft voice, he was a man of violence. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that.
“I wish I could tell you that I know precisely what being around toddlers is like, but I can’t. My child is gone, and that’s a situation I intend to rectify, no matter who I have to walk over or how long it takes.”
Amanda heard, as well as felt, the steel-hard determination in his voice. She was a good judge of character and, right now, all her instincts were telling her that Ramos meant trouble. He would do whatever was necessary to get his child back, regardless of the consequences. She could understand that, even support it, but she had to make sure he didn’t run roughshod over her and jeopardize everything she valued in the process.
Tony eased the note and the box back into the envelope and picked it up by the edges. “I’ll be back after I run this by a few of my sources.”
“No, you won’t. You can call me here, but I do not want you coming by again. Is that clear? I won’t refuse to help you, though your reputation precedes you. However, I cannot afford to have the parents of the children in my care getting nervous.”
“The more people I make nervous, the sooner I get my little girl back,” he said coldly.
After Tony left, the room felt oddly empty. His intensity and rough manner should have repelled her, yet she couldn’t remember ever feeling so drawn to a man. Her body was still trembling with excitement. Tony Ramos exuded an aura of supercharged maleness that practically took her breath away.
Bernice knocked and came into the office without a pause. “Well?”
“He’s a bit cool and very forceful, but not as bad as his reputation makes him out to be. But then again, in his profession, I’m sure he’s learned to wear many masks. In this particular case, too, he’s fighting to get his child back. I’m sure he’s prepared to become whatever he needs to be to get her back. If Hope was taken from me, I know I would.”
Bernice gazed at her speculatively. “I know a bit about him, but it’s mostly from newspapers and gossip I’ve picked up. Are you interested?”
Amanda nodded.
“His wife was involved in a terrible accident three years ago, killed almost instantly. Ramos was the one who found her, but by the time he reached the accident site, his daughter had already been taken. A massive search got underway, but the accident took place during a winter storm so there were almost no clues. Heavy snowfall had obscured the tracks of the person who took his child.”
“He lost his wife and daughter at the same time?” Amanda’s stomach tied itself in knots. “That certainly explains a lot about him.”
“But not everything. There have been questions about Tony Ramos for a long time. He’s been more or less unemployed for the past three years, but his style of living hasn’t noticeably changed. He’s never short of money, it seems. And he hangs out with real scum—crooks and cutthroats of all sorts.” Bernice exhaled softly. “He comes in a nice package, but he’s bad news from what I’ve heard.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second. I still feel for him, though. What mother wouldn’t? I’ll do what I can to help, but I’ve got my own daughter to think about. I intend to keep my association with Tony Ramos as brief as I can—and as far from Hope as possible.”
Bernice stood as the phone on Amanda’s desk began to ring. “Amanda, one more thing. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on here, but I gather it has something to do with his daughter. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t wait for him to call the police if I were you. He may not, and you need to protect the center on this. If the newspapers ever get hold of this story, you’re going to want it known that you took all the proper steps.”
* * *
THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON went by with agonizing slowness. Amanda had expected to get a call from the police. The fact that none came made her think Bernice had been right to suspect Tony wouldn’t tell them. Uneasiness spread through her and she began to regret her agreement to let him handle things his own way. Tony was obviously unafraid to take the law into his own hands. The thought of him acting on his own, answering to no one and perhaps giving in to his violent side, frightened her. Foreknowledge meant she’d share responsibility for his actions.
Amanda picked up the phone ready to call the police, then set it back down. She wanted to give him a chance to play it his way. Any parent searching for his or her child deserved that much. More important, at this point, he was only checking with his sources. The police certainly hadn’t helped him much, judging by the results. Her gaze fell on the photo of Hope on her desk. She couldn’t even imagine being without her daughter, living in that uncertain limbo Tony had dwelt in all this time. She’d give him a chance, but if by tonight she hadn’t heard from the police, then she’d step in.
Several more hours crept by before Amanda finally cleared her desk, ready to leave. It was almost five, time to pick up Hope in the nursery and go home. The time she spent with her daughter in the evenings was her favorite part of the day, and thanks to Bernice, she now had even more time. Bernice had taken over the job of staying late and locking up after all the children were gone.
Amanda stepped into the outer office and spoke to the older woman. “Hope and I will be going now. We’ll see you tomorrow.” As she reached the door, the telephone rang. Amanda stopped and waited, wondering if the police had finally decided to call.
“It’s for you,” Bernice said, putting the caller on hold. “The voice sounds funny somehow. It’s a woman, I can tell that much, but she won’t identify herself. She says it’s urgent. I tried to put her off, but she says she knows you’re still here.”
“I’ll take it in my office.” Puzzled, Amanda returned to her desk and reached for the phone, identifying herself quickly.
“I’m t
he one who sent you the bracelet,” the woman answered, her voice pitched higher than ordinary, like an audio tape playing at the wrong speed. “Now listen carefully, because I won’t be on long. Tell Ramos I know where his kid is. I will give him the information, but first I have certain chores for him. He can start by going to the FBI office here in town and getting a copy of the file on the Henderson case.”
“But he’s not an agent anymore,” Amanda countered, wondering how any local person could be unaware of that, as she wrote the woman’s demands down on a notepad.
“He’s still got connections. He’ll manage. Just tell him he’s got two days to meet my first demand, or he can kiss his kid goodbye forever.”
“Why don’t you deal directly with him? Why are you telling me?”
“You’re our ace in the hole in case we need someone to put a leash on Ramos. You see, we know all about you, too, Ms. Vila. You’re the perfect choice, because you have a secret...and something to lose.”
“What do you mean?” Amanda silently denied the words had any connection to her life as she struggled to understand the woman, whose strange voice was clipped and harsh, probably because it was being electronically disguised.
“We know your daughter was adopted, and that you’ve tried to keep that from everyone. If you don’t do whatever we say, we’ll make sure you regret it. We can alter adoption records, even make sure that the age-progression software Ramos is using starts producing an image that looks just like your kid. We can set it up so that there’ll be no doubt in his mind that she’s his little girl. Once he’s convinced, it won’t matter what anyone else thinks or says. Official approval or not, you know he’ll stop at nothing to take her away from you.”
That threat had the ring of truth. Having met Tony, Amanda couldn’t deny it. She felt her blood turn to ice. “Breaking into the state’s computers can’t be easy. How do I know this isn’t just some kind of bluff?”
“Check it out. We’ve set up a little demonstration. There is no longer any computerized record of your daughter’s adoption. We’ve eliminated it from the data banks completely.”
“I still have the original documents,” Amanda answered, unable to suppress the fear that came through in her voice.
“Nothing exists in the computer’s memory to back them up. Ramos could claim they were phony.”
“You’ve obviously been digging deeply into my life. Why? What do you want from me?”
“Just do what you’re told and don’t go to the police, not unless you want to be responsible for the death of his child, and the loss of your own. And don’t even think about running. If you do, we’ll make sure Ramos tracks you down wherever you go. In the end, we’d be off the hook, he’d have your child, and you’d have nothing.”
“Blood tests would prove my daughter isn’t his,” Amanda argued back angrily.
“And not yours, either. Are you willing to give up the girl to a welfare agency while the courts decide the case? That could take months, years maybe. I’ll bet the press would like to know about it, too. Imagine how a story like this could affect your business. Who’d trust an accused baby snatcher with their own precious darlings?”
“You’re bluffing,” Amanda uttered in disbelief.
“Check the state computer for the adoption records if you doubt us. We’re very capable of backing up our threats.” The line went dead.
Bernice walked into the office and gave Amanda a startled look. “You’re white as a sheet! What’s going on?”
Amanda’s hand shook as she hung up. “Does your friend still work for Social Services?” Amanda asked.
“Sure. She’s been there for years.”
“I need a favor. I was hoping to keep this story from you. In this situation, knowledge is dangerous, but I need your help and you have a right to know.” After telling her friend about the kidnapper’s threat, she dropped back into her chair.
“How could they know Hope was adopted? The only ones who knew were Ron, his sister, you and I, and a few clerical workers at the agency who handled the adoption. If I remember correctly, Ron made you promise never to tell anyone. He was always afraid that the child’s father would return to harass his sister about giving up Hope for adoption. Did you change your mind and confide in anyone else over the years?”
Amanda shook her head. “Of course not. I would never have risked it.”
“Maybe the birth father is behind this scam, or at least in league with the people responsible. Somebody obviously talked to the woman who called.”
“Maybe. First things first, though. Get hold of your friend and have her search the computers. See if the adoption record is still there. I have to know if it’s just a bluff.”
Bernice glanced at her watch. “I may still catch her. She usually works late. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Amanda sat down to wait, then, on impulse, decided to call Ron. She’d need to know if he’d told anyone about the adoption, and also to find out all she could about Hope’s birth father. It would definitely be tricky. She couldn’t afford to tip her hand. If Ron knew the whole story, it was possible he would insist on getting involved. Yet she knew he’d be doing it out of pride—not love for his daughter—and that meant he would be willing to take the kind of risks she’d never condone. He’d likely complicate things rather than solve them.
Gathering her courage, she dialed her ex-husband’s office. Katrina, his longtime paralegal assistant and secretary, answered the phone.
“Hello, Katrina? This is Amanda. I’d like to speak to Ron, please. It’s important.”
“He’s with a client, Amanda. I’ll take your number and have Mr. Vila return your call.” Katrina was cold and excessively polite, as she had been ever since the divorce. She made it a point to be difficult whenever Amanda called. Katrina was undoubtedly acting on Ron’s instructions.
“Sorry, Katrina, this can’t wait. Tell Ron it’s about Hope, but it doesn’t concern his money or his time. That should put his mind at ease.” Amanda couldn’t understand why Katrina was so loyal to Ron. It certainly wasn’t because of a romantic attachment. In two years of marriage, Ron had proven to be the most unemotional man Amanda had ever known.
Katrina put her on hold without another word. After five minutes, just when Amanda was getting really angry, Ron picked up the line. As usual, Ron seemed more annoyed than pleased to hear from her. After a curt greeting, he urged her to get to the point.
“I need to get in touch with your sister,” Amanda said, “but I don’t have her telephone number.”
“Why do you want to talk to Louise?”
“Hope has a little friend who’s adopted, so Hope is now filled with questions of her own. I thought this was the perfect time to start introducing Hope to the idea that she’s adopted, too. But I don’t want to do it if there are still problems with her birth father.”
“Louise hasn’t heard from that guy in years. In fact, last Christmas when I saw her, she said he’d moved to Mexico. Louise is married now, so don’t go calling her and dredging up the past. Her husband doesn’t know about the baby. Besides, don’t you remember that you and I agreed not to tell anyone Hope was adopted? Try to keep your word for the sake of my sister, and leave me out of it, too. I’ve got important work to do.”
She heard a click, then a dial tone. Some things never changed. To Ron, Hope had never ceased to be a reminder of his inability to father a child. Frustration and anger rippled through her, making her insides tie into a knot.
When Bernice finally came into Amanda’s office twenty minutes later, Amanda scarcely dared to breathe as she waited for the news.
“There’s no record of the adoption,” Bernice said in a muted voice. “Everyone was gone, so Jenny was able to access several different data banks. She checked everything she could think of, but the adoption records are just not there. They must have been erased somehow.”
Amanda felt the blood draining from her face. “Then it’s not a bluff. They’ve tampered with the
state records.”
“So what now?”
“I call Tony, pass on their demands, and keep quiet about the rest. For now, that’s the only thing I can do. I don’t want to risk losing my daughter, even if it would only be for a while.”
“You’re a fighter, Amanda. You won’t be able to stand this for long. When your patience runs out, what will you do?”
“I’m not sure, but I do know I can’t just sit back and trust this caller to keep her end of the bargain. I’ll need some leverage of my own sooner or later.”
Amanda managed to keep her hands from shaking as she finished dialing. To her disappointment, she only reached Tony’s answering machine. Frustrated, she decided to leave a sketchy message and wait to give him the details later. They were in this together now, though for different reasons; allies, yet not.
As she finished speaking to the machine, she considered giving him her unlisted home number, but then decided against it. She didn’t want him calling her at home, possibly frightening Hope. “I’ll call again later so we can discuss this at length,” she added.
Bernice watched her. “You’ve got to talk to someone...the cops or a lawyer. You can’t handle this by yourself.”
“I can’t go to anyone yet. And you can’t say anything, either. Promise me. I’ve got to have something on these people in order to safeguard Hope and myself. The only way I can get that is to play along for now.”
“I understand, but—”
“No, no buts. This is the way it’s got to be.”
Bernice nodded. “I’ll do everything I can to help you. I don’t know how much good I’ll be, but you won’t go through this alone.”
Amanda toyed with a pencil on her desk, trying frantically to get a handle on the situation. “Wait a second. Did you tell me the caller knew I was here?”
“That’s what she told me.”
“How could she know that—unless she’s watching?” Amanda walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside to glance up and down the street. Finally she allowed the curtain to fall back into place. “There are cars parked all the way down the street as usual, but I didn’t see anyone sitting inside one.”
