Pushed to the Limit (Quid Pro Quo 1)

by Patricia Rosemoor

CHAPTER TWO

  “WORK WITH YOU?” Honor didn't know why she was surprised. What else had she expected? That he would beg her not to try to steal his papers again? “But they're professionals.”

  “Then they won't suspect we're trying to trap them.”

  Honor wanted to scream at Dakota, but years of acting experience allowed her to keep her voice controlled. “The life of a four year old child is on the line here. If we make a mistake --“

  ”Then we won't make a mistake.”

  “You can afford to say that. Nora isn't your daughter. She's mine and I'm terrified they'll harm her.”

  “There are no guarantees, not even if you give them what they want.”

  A lump settled in Honor's throat as she met blue eyes as brilliant as aquamarines. Recognizing the shadow of pity in them, she dropped her gaze and stared at the pronounced cleft in Dakota's chin.

  She knew what he said was true, and that she'd been trying to fool herself. She'd convinced herself that if she did exactly what the kidnappers said, Nora would be freed. But deep inside, she also knew that Nora could be a liability to criminals who didn't want to be identified. Perhaps she'd been stupid, but believing that God wouldn't be so cruel as to take her daughter from her permanently was the only thing that had gotten her through the past thirty-two hours.

  Honor moved to the spot where Dakota had tackled her, where manila folders, papers and photographs had popped out of the hanging file and now lay strewn across the floor. She started to gather them.

  “What do you propose?” she asked.

  “To follow you. To stop the person who comes to pick up the ransom.”

  Her head whipped toward him. “You can't. If the others don't get these papers...”

  Dakota took the documents from her. “You won't have these papers to give in the first place.”

  “What do you mean?” she demanded, fighting the panic that had threatened to envelope her since the unthinkable had happened. “I have to give the kidnappers what they want in trade for my daughter.”

  “Or a reasonable facsimile thereof,” Dakota argued. “I have a neutral report we had commissioned several months ago, before we really got into this case. You can have that. I can forge a couple of statements similar to but less incriminating than the real McCoy. And I have dozens of photographs of salmon boats that I can't use, but which could be useful as subterfuge. Maybe whoever's behind the kidnapping can be lulled into thinking we don't have anything of importance,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  “Why even bother having me deliver anything if you're going to stop the pick-up man?” she asked bitterly.

  How could any decent person be so callous when a child's safety might be on the line? she wondered.

  “The pick-up man could get away. Or I could follow him,” he conceded. “That might be better anyway. Where are you supposed to meet the guy?”

  Honor thought quickly. “Pike Place Market.” She'd be damned if she'd tell him the truth if there was any chance she could get away from him and make the real drop. “And I'm not supposed to meet anyone. I was told to leave the files behind one of the stalls.”

  She tried not to look too relieved when he nodded, obviously swallowing her story. Though she would have to make due with whatever he was willing to let her take, she could hope it would be enough for the kidnappers... or that it would at least buy her some time. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get away from Dakota so she could appear at the real rendezvous site alone as instructed.

  Putting the office right and preparing the fake document file took nearly an hour, time enough for Honor to conceive of a plan to counter the one Dakota formulated. When they closed down the office, she picked up the envelope and tucked it into her side. Dakota didn't argue, though he kept an eye on her as she accompanied him docilely to the elevator.

  As he pressed the call button, she moved away, saying, “I'll be right back.”

  Dakota grabbed her free wrist. “You're not going anywhere without me.”

  “Fine. Come to the ladies lounge with me, then, but I can't leave until I make a stop.” She gave him a pained expression. “You know what nerves can do...”

  “All right. Let's go.”

  Honor hurried around the corner, Dakota on her heels. She prayed he'd been raised with too much class to actually follow her inside. The elevator was already creaking and groaning its way up to the fifth floor. She had only a minute or so to execute her plan with the aid of the noisy old contraption to cover her movements.

  “Hurry,” he said, stopping at the door.

  She flashed him a smile of real gratitude – she was almost sorry she had to dupe him this way – slipped inside the lounge, and, the second door touched jamb, went for her tote bag into which she placed the envelope. Her heart was pounding and she could hear the elevator grinding to a halt as she ran on tiptoe and exited through the other door. Without hesitating, she moved quickly but quietly down the hall toward the fire stairs exit she'd spotted earlier. Now if only she could get down to street level before Dakota caught up to her.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Honor pulled a calf-length knit duster from the bag and slipped it on. Fourth floor. She pulled out a dark curly wig and fought to get her braid under it as she kept moving. Third. A pair of horned-rimmed glasses came next. Second. Bright red lipstick. When she got to the first floor, she stopped a second to slip into a pair of heels, the sensible kind made by athletic shoe manufacturers – the kind she could run in.

  About to open the door, she hesitated. The guard might be suspicious that she'd used the stairs instead of the elevator. A few seconds delay and Dakota could catch up to her. So she kept going, descending deeper into the bowels of the building – a poorly lit basement that seemed to be a maze of pipes and obstacles. A mistake, or so she thought until she spotted the loading dock doors which must lead to the hilly street that ran alongside the building. Making an instant decision, she crossed the basement and burst through the door, setting off a building alarm.

  She hit the sidewalk at a run and immediately headed for her car which she'd left more than a block away. Although it was almost ten, people moved along the streets. Few bothered to look her way. Many were homeless. None posed a threat.

  Out of breath by the time she got to her car, she climbed in and waited only until her pulse steadied before starting the ignition. Dakota Raferty would be cursing her by now. He was probably calling the police. They wouldn't find her, not until she'd made the delivery. And once she had her daughter in her arms safe and sound, she didn't care what threats they used against her.

  She could afford the best lawyers, Honor told herself, thinking positively about Nora's return. Her actions had been justified. Any reasonable person could understand that.

  But in case they didn't, maybe she would take her daughter and disappear off the face of the earth.

  As Honor sped to the docks at the south end of Elliott Bay, her only regret was that she'd had to betray a friend. Sydney Raferty didn't deserve this from her.

  And neither, she suspected, fighting a rush of guilt, did Sydney's brother.