by Susan Cliff
“Daniel.” Grant reached out and the men clasped hands with a comfortable familiarity. “You’re early.” His astute brown eyes swept over Shannon. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”
“No, it’s not,” Daniel said. “This is Shannon Nolan. She’s had some trouble today and we could use some advice.”
Grant’s thick salt-and-pepper eyebrows arched up and he reached out, shook her hand. “What kind of trouble?”
She started to answer and stopped herself with a quick shake of her head. “I should go.”
“Not alone,” Daniel said. He waited until she lifted her despondent brown eyes to his. “Not alone,” he repeated. She did too much on her own and this wasn’t a situation anyone could be expected to handle without help, regardless of the kidnapper’s demands.
“Come on back and fill me in,” Grant said in a friendly tone that softened what could easily have been an outright order.
He led the way down the hall, gesturing for Daniel and Shannon to enter the office first. “Have a seat,” he said, closing the door.
Daniel appreciated the consideration as they sat down in the mismatched guest chairs in front of Grant’s desk. Though the club was deserted right now, the prep crews would be coming in soon, along with the featured band and the warm-up acts. He didn’t want anyone overhearing what Shannon had to say.
Grant’s chair squeaked as he settled in, and he gave Shannon a cautious smile. “What happened?”
“My son was kidnapped from the sitter’s house this morning.” Tears welled in her eyes, but her voice was clear and steady as she relayed the story.
Daniel made mental notes, only chiming in when Grant asked a question about the damage, the timing. While she explained it all, Grant looked over the first text messages on Shannon’s phone, reviewed the less-than-helpful incoming call log.
“Nasty work using kids as pawns,” he grumbled. Grant’s famous scowl was edging toward the ferocious end of the spectrum as he handed Shannon’s phone back to her across the desk. “Who is the boy’s father?”
She fidgeted in her chair, shoulders hunched and her palms pressed between her knees. “I don’t have any influence over him. The only time he cooperated with me was when he granted me the divorce. I haven’t even been back to New York.”
“You never told him he had a son?” Grant asked.
“No.”
At Shannon’s whispered answer, Daniel felt his heart clench. Twice now, in text and by phone, the kidnapper had told her she’d only get Aiden back once the father cooperated. If she didn’t have any influence over the man, it was no wonder she didn’t show much hope.
“Could the boy’s father be the kidnapper?” Grant asked, echoing a theory Daniel shared. “Maybe he found out and decided he wanted to be a dad after all.”
“No.” Shannon sat up straight. “He would have been furious to learn I was pregnant. I left him—left town—before he found out.”
As she nibbled on her lower lip, Daniel sensed she left something dark and ugly unsaid.
“Why?” Grant pressed. “You were afraid of him?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes, her hands fisted on her knees hard enough to turn her knuckles white under the spattering of gray paint. “He turned into a different man after the wedding.”
Daniel could see she wanted to leave it at that. Just as he could see Grant’s cop instincts were humming. He had his teeth into this now and wouldn’t let up until he had all the facts.
“Who is the boy’s father?”
“It’s irrelevant.” She sniffled and another tear rolled down her cheek.
Grant’s chair squeaked as he leaned back. “I don’t think so.”
“Can you help me find my son?”
Daniel wanted to give her another hug and let her cry it out, though it wouldn’t help anything. He recognized the defeated look in her eyes, the utter helplessness dragging at her, having seen it in the faces of people certain they were going to die even as first responders did everything possible to save them.
“If you give me the whole picture, we have a much better chance of success.” Grant drummed his fingers on the desktop, watching her. When she refused to volunteer any information, his penetrating gaze shifted to Daniel. “How did you meet Shannon?”
“She’s a Jennings employee,” he replied, taken aback.
“How’d you get yourself involved in this?”
Daniel didn’t care for his tone and his temper started to simmer. “This isn’t her fault.” Grant flicked his fingers, urging him to answer. “I was talking with her on the job this morning when the kidnapper first made contact.”
“So you trust her?”
“Yes.”
“I’m right here,” Shannon snapped.
“I know.” Grant gave her a cool stare. “Until you give me what I need, I’m forced to tackle this from a different angle. How can we help you if you don’t help us?”
“The kidnapper said no police,” she replied.
Grant pointed at himself. “I own a nightclub.” He aimed that same finger at Daniel. “Firefighter and contractor, right there. I don’t see any cops here.”
Again, her silence stretched, filling the room.
Grant opened his mouth and Daniel knew what was coming. “Not so fast,” he said to both of them. “She needs us,” he said to Grant, then shot a glare at Shannon. “No disrespect intended, Shannon. You’ve done a great job on your own from what I’ve seen, but this isn’t a matter of independence or providing. You’re up against hard men, criminals who’ve done this before, in my opinion.”
“I’d agree, based on the sitter’s account,” Grant added.
“Shannon, you need Grant’s connections to get your son back safely.”
“They will send Aiden back to me in pieces.” She curled into herself, rocking a little. “It doesn’t matter who has connections.” She hiccupped as tears slid down her face again. “I h-have no influence over Aiden’s father. When the kidnappers realize it, Aiden is no use to them.”
Grant pushed to his feet, sent the chair rolling back as he leaned over the desk. Daniel had never seen him take such an intimidating tack with a person asking for help. “Tell me who the father is.”
Shannon’s shoulders trembled and her eyes were locked on her work boots. “Bradley Stanwood.”
“I’ll be damned.” He yanked his chair back into place. “Stanwood of New York.” The chair protested with another loud creak as he dropped into it. “I knew you looked familiar.”
“Pardon?” Daniel looked from Grant to Shannon and back again. Had she been a celebrity or married to one? That wasn’t something he kept up with, though there were people on his crews that did. “You know her? How is that?”
“Her ex-husband has ties to organized crime up and down the East Coast.” Grant rubbed at the lines creasing his forehead. “When I was still a cop, Stanwood and his less-polished associates were connected to more than a few crimes here in Philly. My guess is one of his enemies grabbed their son for leverage.”
With better context, the name clicked into place for Daniel. He managed to smother an oath before it slipped out.
Shannon sniffled, rocking gently again. “You can’t help me at all, can you?”
“On the contrary,” Grant said, fingers drumming on the desktop again. “Now that I know what we’re dealing with, I’ve got a few ideas brewing already.”
Copyright © 2017 by Regan Black
ISBN-13: 9781488016721
Stranded with the Navy SEAL
Copyright © 2017 by Susan Cliff
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