No Way Out

by Andrea Kane

  Maybe he was making too much of this.

  But right on the heels of Robin Haley blowing him off? That was too many coincidences for him.

  He glanced at the phone.

  Maybe he was waiting too long. Maybe he should accelerate things a bit, get his plan going before things snowballed out of control.

  Good idea. He'd get his last few ducks in a row. Then he'd drop the bomb.

  A hard smile curled his lips.

  This was one call he wouldn't trust anyone else to make.

  It was the ultimate power play.

  And it was all his.

  10:35 A.M.

  Connor had intended to get Stephen alone.

  It didn't happen that way.

  When he strode into the family room, he saw that Stephen had another visitor: their father.

  Harrison Stratford obviously had just arrived. He was flinging his coat onto the sofa when Connor crossed the threshold.

  "Good," he greeted Connor, a muscle working in his jaw. "I've got you both together. Now maybe I'll get some straight answers." He paused, as if remembering the circumstances and how they were affecting Connor's life. "Brian's teacher—how is she?"

  'The same," Connor said carefully. "It's touch-and-go."

  "I'm sorry about that."

  "Are you?"

  Harrison's eyes narrowed. "What the hell does that mean?"

  Connor took the plunge. "One of the reasons I'm here is to figure out why Julia was run down and by whom. Any ideas?"

  "I assume you're referring to Walker."

  Stephen's head jerked around, and he glared from his father to Connor and back. "What do you know about Walker?"

  "You didn't fill your brother in," Harrison noted, shooting Connor a disgusted look. "Protecting him again?"

  "Not anymore. He can handle it. The question is, can you? I think you're going to be surprised at the outcome."

  "What are you two talking about?" Stephen demanded.

  Connor turned to his brother. "Remember my Thursday-evening business meeting? Well, it was with Dad. I'd just found out he and Walker did some co-investing over the years. I went to get details. And lo and behold, I found out who put the bug in Walker's ear about the municipal parking contract."

  "You're joking." Stephen didn't sound amused. He sounded furious.

  "Nope. Seems it's good for drumming up publicity when your son's running for state office" Connor supplied. "And for building character, too. Go ahead, Dad. Explain to Stephen how you're strengthening his backbone for his political future."

  "I don't need to. You just did it for me." Harrison glanced calmly around the room and, seeing a pot of coffee, went over and poured himself a cup. "You did leave out the part you threw at me just before you left—that theory about Walker being behind the car thefts. You said you had no proof. Did you confront Walker with it anyway? Because if you did, it was a bad move. Walker's just the kind of guy who'd get a kick out of rubbing your nose in it by ripping off your car. His idea of punishment. It's too bad Julia Talbot got caught in the cross-fire."

  Connor bit back his anger. He was more interested in Stephen's.

  His brother's entire body had gone rigid. "You knew about the car thefts?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet. "And about Walker? Did you know he was blackmailing me?"

  One of Harrison's brows rose. "Really? And what would he have on you that would allow him to do that?"

  Utter silence.

  And in that instant, Connor had his answer.

  So did Stephen. "You know," he stated flatly. "You know about Walker's campaign contribution. You know about my gambling it away, then soaking Connor to recoup it. You know exactly what Walker had on me."

  "What Walker had on you?" Harrison set down his mug with a thud. "What the whole damned world would have on you if your "brother didn't clean up your mess. Correction: messes. You've made twenty years' worth of them with your stupid gambling. Walker can be reined in. I'll manage that. But tell me, Stephen, isn't it about time you grew up and faced life instead of letting someone else make it go away for you?"

  "You're right, Dad, it is." Stephen stared his father down, a new kind of conviction emanating from him. It was as if he'd reached the edge of a huge abyss and leaped across. "I'm facing life right now. My wife walked out My son is being threatened. A terrific woman whose only crime was to care about Brian's welfare is lying in a hospital bed. That's all I give a damn about. Not you. Not some meaningless election. Not all the plans you've made for my future that are never going to happen. I'm responsible for the nightmare we're living right now. And why? Because I've spent thirty-six years as a lump of clay waiting for you to mold me. Thirty-six years banging my head against a wall trying to live up to your expectations. Well, no more. It's time I took over the job; time I looked in the mirror, recognized who I really am. And if I'm lucky, maybe someday I'll actually like what I see."

  Harrison didn't look impressed. Surprised but not impressed. "Really? And what would you like to see, a corporate attorney? They're a dime a dozen, even the bright ones. Look at your friend Cliff. He spends his life snatching up whatever crumbs are thrown his way, men waiting around patiently for leftovers. And I mean wives as well as legal cases—or did you think I didn't know about that, either?"

  "I don't give a damn what you know."

  "Fine, let's play it your way. You want to see yourself for what you are? You're weak. I made you. You've got the charm, the savvy, and the brains. But you haven't got the grit."

  Stephen didn't even flinch. "Probably not. But I have a son who knows he can count on me, who knows I love him no matter what. That's a hell of a lot better than having a corporate empire, at least in my book." Hearing his own words, Stephen paused, a pleased glint flashing in his eyes. "Maybe I'm closer to getting my life together than I thought."

  "I doubt it. Not with people like Walker pulling your chain."

  "Speaking of which, just how did he get the ammo to do that, Dad?' Connor inserted in a steely tone. "Very few people know about Stephen's gambling. You're one of them, as we just found out. Did you happen to pass that information along to your colleague to help him strengthen Stephen's backbone? Is that me reason you're so sure you can rein him in?"

  "Your accusations are beginning to piss me off," Harrison fired back.

  "Then answer them."

  "No."

  "No, you didn't tell him, or no, you won't answer?"

  "Take your pick."

  Stephen made a rough sound, realization striking home full force. "You sick bastard," he ground out, advancing toward his father, eyes ablaze. "You actually gave Walker what he needed to tear my family apart. It's because of you that my son's life is in danger."

  "No, Stephen, it's not." Cliff hovered in the doorway, guilt and regret twisting his features. "It's because of me."

  They all turned to stare at him.

  "The door was unlocked. I let myself in. As it turns out, I'm glad I did." He crossed over, a manila envelope marked "Confidential" in his hands. He stopped when he reached Stephen. "These will explain everything." He tossed the envelope onto the coffee table. "Before you open it, I have a few things to say. I'm asking you to listen. Then you can throw me out." A quick glance at Harrison. "In unison."

  Stephen was still gaping. "You told Walker about me? Why? So he could get my ass thrown in jail, and you could have Nancy?"

  Cliff winced. "No. Because I was a coward. And yes, because of my feelings for Nancy. But not so I could have her. So I could protect her."

  Quietly, he told them how Walker had gotten intimate photos of him with a woman who looked enough like Nancy so that, with the right doctoring, she could pass for the real thing. In return for his silence, all Walker wanted was a tip—anything he could use as leverage against the mayor.

  "I knew he wanted that municipal parking contract," Cliff said. "But that's all I knew. It never occurred to me ..." He sucked in his breath. "I was so afraid that if those photos got out, Nancy would be
destroyed. And it's not like I thought you'd be getting screwed by pushing Walker's proposal. I knew you'd think his bid for the contract had merit. Because it did, especially with the increased number of auto thefts Leaf Brook's been experiencing."

  "Auto thefts that Walker orchestrated," Stephen qualified.

  "I didn't know that then. I didn't know a lot of things. I was backed into a corner, and I grabbed the out Walker threw me. As it turned out, the whole situation blew up in my face. I'm not defending my actions. They were deplorable. I was a bastard and an idiot. I betrayed you. The important thing for you to know is that Nancy never did. Not in any way. Even when I thought—yeah, hoped— that your marriage was over, she stood by you. As for Brian, when Nancy told me what Walker had done with that baseball cap, I went ballistic. I told Greg that if he ever..."

  "Greg?" Stephen interrupted. There was an icy stillness about him. "Where does Greg fit into this?"

  "He's Walker's contact. I don't know what their arrangement is or how deep he's in, but he's the one who blackmailed me with those pictures, and he's the one I called to tell Walker to back off. I thought my pressure had worked, because Greg delivered the negatives to me. I figured that was Walker's peace offering. I was wrong. When I went into the office yesterday, Greg handed me a letter. It was from Walker. It was cloaked in language that made it come off sounding like a pending legal matter in a development deal. He didn't write a word that could incriminate him. But the message came through loud and clear. I should stop rocking the boat, butt out, and let things be finalized to preclude damages to my party. There was a snapshot of Brian stapled to the letter. That made it very clear who the damages would be to."

  Walker's veiled threat sent prickles of fear up Connor's spine.

  But he forced himself to focus on Cliff and the explanation he'd just provided.

  It; elicited more relief than anger. Everything Cliff had said substantiated what Julia had recounted, which suggested that his guilt ran only as deep as he'd just admitted.

  "Did Greg actually hand you the negatives?" Connor inquired, trying to get at the mystery behind the rabbit's foot.

  "Hand them to me? No, but I knew they were from him, if that's what you're asking. He pulled me aside when I stepped out of Stephen's office on Thursday. He told me the negatives were in his car. I went down to the parking lot and got them myself."

  Okay, so he'd been in Greg's car. That could be good news. It could mean that Brian was still with Nancy, safe and sound, and only the rabbit's foot had been taken—inadvertently.

  Before Connor took the chance of asking him, point-blank, about Nancy's whereabouts, he had one more base to cover.

  "Yesterday was Saturday," he prompted. "And grand opening day at the mall. You knew that was where Stephen would be. So why did you go to his office?"

  Cliff pointed to the envelope on the coffee table. "I went to leave that. Look, Connor, I was like a wounded animal—angry at fate for putting me in this position, at Nancy for loving Stephen, at Stephen for abusing Nancy's love but having it anyway. I wanted to lash out, to shove my pain in Stephen's face. At the same time, I couldn't stand the guilt anymore. I'd duped my best friend, not to mention loving his wife and, for the first time, actively wishing she'd leave him for me. I couldn't look him in the eye. So I was going to take the coward's way out again, leave the photos and the negatives on Stephen's desk with a note of explanation. I started writing the note, then changed my mind. We'd been friends for almost twenty years. I owed it to him to tell him face to face. He deserved that much."

  Cliff raked a hand through his hair. "After that, everything happened at once. Greg shoved Walker's letter at me. I'd barely finished reading it when Julia showed up. I was such a wreck, I hardly remember what she said. Something about dropping in to see Greg. I guess she went to the mall from there. That's when she must have been ..." A flash of sympathy crossed his face. "I'm sorry, Connor. I hope she'll make it."

  "She will." That was enough explanation for Connor. He took the plunge. "Cliff, do you know where Nancy is?'

  An uncomfortable grimace. "I told Nancy from the beginning that Stephen deserved to know where she was, that he'd be frantic. But she swore me to secrecy. I can't..."

  "Not even if I tell you that she and Brian are in danger? Because we have reason to believe they are. We think Walker's planning something really ugly. Like grabbing Brian."

  "How can he do that?" Cliff demanded. "He doesn't know where they are. No one does."

  "Except you."

  For the first time, Cliff looked angry. "If there's one thing you can be dead sure of, it's that I'd never hurt Nancy. Or Brian, for that matter. I didn'J tell a soul where they went."

  "Did you visit them?"

  A reluctant pause. "Yes. Once. I took Brian's antibiotic to them."

  'Then you could have been followed."

  A flash of memory and apprehension. "It's possible. I drove there Wednesday morning, right after my meeting with Greg. The only place I stopped was the pharmacy. He could have followed me."

  "And reported to Walker." Connor leaned forward. "Tell me something, Cliff. And think carefully before you answer. During your one visit with Nancy, did you happen to see a red rabbit's foot lying around?"

  "I don't have to think. Brian had it in his hand. He wouldn't put it down, not even to take his medicine. He said it was his good luck charm."

  A tight knot formed in Connor's gut. "So there's no chance you accidentally took it when you left?"

  "None." Cliff shook his head. "Brian spent the whole time I was there in his room. He was really upset that I'd been the one to deliver his medicine. He wanted Stephen. He didn't even come out to say good-bye."

  "Shit," Connor muttered.

  "Why are you asking?"

  "Yeah, Connor, that's a good question" Stephen echoed, showing visible signs of panic. "Obviously, you're talking about the rabbit's foot that Julia asked you to give Brian. You told me you did that on Tuesday. So why is it an issue?"

  "Because it's not with Brian now. As of Friday, it was in Greg's car."

  "God... no." Stephen went sheet-white.

  Cliff didn't look much better. "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. Which means that whoever dropped that rabbit's foot had contact with Brian. Or worse, that Brian himself was in Greg's car."

  Stephen crossed the room in three strides and grabbed Cliff by the shirt. "Where the hell did Nancy take Brian? Where are they?"

  This time, there was no hesitation. "They went to my ski lodge in Stowe."

  "You saw them Wednesday. Today's Sunday. Why haven't you gone back?" Stephen shook him. "You're the only one who knew where they were, the only one who could have protected them. If you love Nancy so damned much, why didn't you go back and check on them?"

  "Because Nancy told me not to." Cliff made no attempt to free himself or to put up a fight. He looked ill. "She didn't want me holding out any hope of a future together. She's in love with you. And she saw how my visit affected Brian. He was already a mess about being away from you. My showing up made that worse."

  "But you've called, right?" Stephen demanded in a pleading voice. "Surely, you've spoken with Nancy?"

  Sweat broke out on Cliff's forehead. "The last time was Thursday night. Nancy told me not to call again. So I didn't. Then, yesterday, after Greg gave me Walker's threatening letter, I tried calling. I wanted to make sure that Brian was all right."

  "And?"

  'There was no answer. But that didn't surprise me. Nancy made it clear that she didn't want me interrupting her thinking time. And since no one else knew where she was, she'd assume it was me and not pick up."

  "So you haven't spoken to her since Thursday night." Stephen was already on his way to the phone. "That means that Walker could be holding my wife and son for two and a half days now. What's the phone number at your ski lodge?"

  Cliff supplied it.

  Stephen punched the buttons and waited.

  Three rings. Four. Five
.

  "There's no answer." He slammed down the phone. "I'm driving up there now."

  "I'll go with you," Cliff said.

  "The hell you will." Stephen whipped around, fire blazing in his eyes. "They're my wife and my son. If you ever forget that again, I'll break your jaw."

  The telephone rang.

  "Stephen," Connor said, staring at the flashing light. "It's your private line."

  "Maybe it's Nancy." Stephen grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear. "Yes?'

  He stood there silently for a long time, his color draining away, his features drawn with fear. "I heard you," he answered finally, his voice so tight it sounded as if it might snap. "How do I know he's all right?" Another agonizing pause. "What about my wife? You son of a bitch, if you've touched one hair on . . ." He forced himself under control, grabbed a pen and a pad. "Where and when?" Some scribbling. "You'll have it. No, no police. Now let me talk to Bri—"

  He held the phone away from his ear, gazed vapidly at it. "He hung up."

  Connor gripped his arm. "Walker has Brian?"

  A nod. "He wants five million in cash. I'm supposed to put it in Brian's sports bag and leave it in some alcove he described, near one of the gates at Westchester County Airport. Tomorrow, eleven-thirty a.m."

  "You're sure it was Walker?" Harrison Stratford spoke up for the first time since Cliff had arrived. He looked stunned and furious.

  "What?" Stephen was clearly in shock. "Uh, yeah. He used one of those voice scramblers, just in case I was taping the call. But what he said—it was him."

  "The time frame fits," Connor added quietly. "I got word that Walker's taking off for Switzerland at noon tomorrow. Now we know why."

  "Christ." Stephen dragged both hands through his hair, trying to think straight. Abruptly, his head shot up. "Nancy. He said he doesn't have Nancy. That means he left her at Stowe. And no one's answering the phone up there. She could be ..." He crossed the room in five strides. "I've got to get to her." He turned. "Connor..."