Silent Partner Part 19

"I can't wait to see this movie, Mom."

Angela and Hunter were hurrying through a crowded indoor mall, trying to make a nine o'clock showing. She was dead tired, but the next two days would be filled with anything and everything Hunter wanted to do. Before they'd even made it down the estate's driveway, Hunter had told her how his granddad was planning to build a barn at Rosemary for a couple of new ponies.

"Me, too, sweetheart. We're going to have so much fun this weekend," she said.

"We always do."

She smiled down at him as they neared the ticket booth. "Yes, we do."

The theater had six screens and Angela scanned the listings, then reached into her purse for a twenty when they made it to the front of the line. She was thinking that she needed to call Carter Hill to let him know that Jake Lawrence had contacted her. She had no choice.

"Two tickets for . . . " Angela's voice trailed off as she glanced down. Hunter was gone. He'd been right beside her a moment ago. Her eyes snapped up, quickly scanning the theater's crowded lobby. Another movie had just finished and people were pouring out of the theater into the mall. "Hunter!"

"Hey," said the man behind her in line, "are you going to buy tickets or what?"

Tucker had warned her about needing to be careful with Hunter because Jake Lawrence had become involved in the situation with her son.

"Come on, lady."

Angela felt panic setting in. Her heart was thumping in her chest; her brain was beginning to pound. "Hunter!" she yelled, people blurring before her as her eyes flashed around the area. She stepped out of line and staggered ahead, fighting to cross the river of moviegoers pa.s.sing in front of her. Maybe Hunter had gone to buy candy. He was such an independent child. "Hunter!" She could hear the panic in her own voice, and it unnerved her. "Hunter!" She pushed through a family of five and made it to the food counter, but the little boy was nowhere in sight.

"Are you all right?" asked a woman holding a bag of popcorn.

"It's my son," Angela answered, her voice choking up. "He was right here a second ago. Right with me. Then I looked down, and he was gone."

"Now keep calm," the woman urged. "Everything will be okay. He's probably right here."

Angela shook her head and raced back out toward the mall, looking wildly in both directions, uncertain what to do. Pick one way to run and search every store? But what if that was the wrong way? Or stay right here? But what if he had walked into the mall? Or been taken? She had to do something.

"What does he look like?" The kindly woman had followed Angela. "I'll go this way," she said, pointing to the left, "and you go over there. But you have to tell me what he looks like first."

"He's about this tall," she said quickly, putting a hand at her hip. "He's got medium-length brown hair and blue eyes. He's wearing a green down jacket," she said, trying to think clearly as the words spilled out. "Thank you. Thank you so much." Suddenly Angela felt a hard tug on the bottom of her coat.

"Mom, did you get the tickets?"

She glanced down and her eyes were met by the most beautiful sight she could have imagined. Hunter looking up at her with that wonderful smile. She knelt, tears flowing down her cheeks as relief rushed through her body. "Where were you?"

"I went to the bathroom. I thought you heard me tell you."

"No, honey. No, I didn't." She grabbed him and hugged him tightly. "You have to make sure I hear you, Hunter. Please don't ever do that again."

Hunter nodded obediently as Angela pulled back. "Sorry to scare you," he said, wiping tears from her face.

"It's okay, Hunter. It's okay."

The man standing against a wall outside the movie theater folded the newspaper he had been pretending to read, and moved casually on. What had just happened was bad luck for him. Now it was going to be extremely difficult to get the boy away from her.

Ken Booker took a long puff from a cigar, then, for a second time this evening, read the article in theWashington Post about the lawsuit seeking $1.4 trillion. The scary thing about the suit was that someone at thePost thought there was enough to it to report on it. "b.a.s.t.a.r.ds," he muttered, feeling his blood begin to boil.

He reached for the Jack Daniels highball and took a long drink. Why was he getting so worked up? The man they were supporting was very connected. And he would see to it that this could never happen.

CHAPTER TEN.

The weekend with Hunter had flashed by. The way they always did. Her two days were gone, and he was back at Rosemary. It would be another month before she would see him again, and the loneliness was already setting in. It had hurt so deeply to watch him scamper gleefully back into the mansion after giving her a final hug, undoubtedly looking forward to playing with the magical things that millions could buy.

Angela knew now more than ever that there would soon come a day when Hunter wouldn't want to spend the weekend with her, a Friday when he would trudge to her car and get in because hehad to, not because he wanted to. This very morning he'd mentioned for the first time she could ever remember that he was bored.

Typically, she and Liv would have had dinner tonight-the Sunday night after her weekend with Hunter. Liv had an amazing ability to comfort her, while at the same time making her realize that she couldn't feel sorry for herself, that she alone could effect change. The dinner-with-Liv-routine had been interrupted this evening in the name of doing just that.

"Everything all right?"

Angela nodded slowly, gazing through the candlelight at Jake Lawrence.

Tucker had called yesterday morning, asking again if she would consent to dinner with Lawrence. She had turned down the request for last night, Sat.u.r.day night, because nothing could make her give up so much as a minute of her precious time with Hunter. She had agreed, however, to meet Lawrence late this evening after dropping the boy off at Rosemary.

But she had agreed with a condition. John Tucker would have to be close by at all times, close enough so that if she felt any uneasiness at all, she could get to him right away. And he could get to her.

Angela glanced at the double door of the hotel suite's tastefully decorated private dining room. Jake Lawrence had agreed to her condition. They were alone in here, but Tucker was on the other side of those doors watching television. She'd already checked twice. William Colby was out there too, along with four of his men, two of whom were carrying weapons-and watching Tucker like a hawk.

"Relax, Angela. Everything is fine," Lawrence said rea.s.suringly, adjusting his black bow tie. "You know John Tucker is out there, right?"

Angela nodded again. Lawrence smiled and the dimples she'd first noticed in Wyoming appeared.

"I learned my lesson last time." His smile faded when Angela didn't respond. "I mean that."

"Okay," she agreed, her steely expression starting to fade.

"Hey, I got all dressed up for you. The last time I wore one of these penguin suits, I was having a private dinner with a head of state." Lawrence held his arms out to show off the sharp black tuxedo. "Give me some credit," he pleaded.

"You look nice." Lawrence looked more than nice. He looked like he ought to be on the cover of a magazine. She had to keep reminding herself of what he had done to her.

"And you look fabulous, Angela."

"Thank you."

She was wearing the dress she'd bought for the trip to Wyoming, though she hadn't been as excited about putting it on this time. Tucker had given her the same compliment when he'd picked her up at her apartment in the Fan. It had meant more coming from him because she felt sure he meant it.

"I like your hair up off your shoulders that way too," Lawrence continued. "It makes you look like a princess."

Angela glanced down, embarra.s.sed.

Lawrence rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I've gone and done it again, haven't I? I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said, cracking a faint smile for the first time. "Don't try so hard."

"Right." He picked up an open bottle off the table. "Do you mind if I have some wine?"

"You don't need my permission."

"Somehow I think I do."

"It's fine ifyou want some," she said after a few moments, making her glance at the doors obvious.

"Would you like a little?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Okay." Lawrence poured himself a gla.s.s, motioning toward the doors when he was finished. "You like John, don't you?"

She shrugged. "I trust him."

"But you barely know him."

"That's true. But I still trust him."

"How can that be?" Lawrence pushed.

"It's a feeling." She wasn't going to tell Lawrence about Tucker's advice in the garage, how his warning had seemed heartfelt, delivered because he cared. She wasn't going to put him in jeopardy that way. "I can't explain it to you."

"Shouldn't you approach something like trust more deliberately? Shouldn't you give it more time?"

"Why do you care so much?"

A tight-lipped expression came to Lawrence's face. "You're right. I don't. That's your business."

"Good."

Lawrence took a sip of wine. "By now, I a.s.sume, you are aware that the custody war for your son is back on." His manner turned businesslike. "Your attorney, Ms. Charboneau, will meet tomorrow with one of the men who accused you of having s.e.x with him while you were married to Sam Reese. A Mr. Ford, I believe. The one who is still alive," Lawrence added quietly. "And Ms. Charboneau will be talking further with a woman who had an affair with your ex-husband, the woman you caught Sam Reese in bed with." Lawrence put the gla.s.s back down on the linen tablecloth. "I've also made arrangements for my people to speak with the judge in the case. He doesn't have to reopen it, but I believe he will."

"How did you convince these people to change their minds?" Angela asked. "How did you convince Danny Ford?"

"Several of my a.s.sociates had a chance encounter with Mr. Ford in a parking lot late one evening last week. They reasoned with him."

"You mean they threatened him, don't you? Or did they actually hurt him?"

"In the end, Angela, the slime of our world must pay for their actions," he said coldly. "There must be retribution for acts of evil. Otherwise decent people are left unprotected, and chaos reigns."

"I see," she said quietly.

"Would you rather Mr. Ford be allowed to go through life without ever paying for what he did to you? For helping to take Hunter from you?"

Angela stared at Lawrence through the flickering candlelight. "No."

"Then we're in agree-"

"Why are you doing this for me?" she cut in. "Why are you going to such great lengths to help me?"

"You've agreed to do a favor for me, so I'll do the same for you. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. That's the way the world works."

"What you have asked of me is simply my job. The financing of an acquisition. Just business."

"But I don't think you fully understood the consequences of my request. I don't believe you understood how strongly Bob Dudley would react to your involvement with me."

Angela ran her finger around the base of her empty winegla.s.s. "No, I suppose I didn't."

Lawrence rose from his seat, bottle in hand, and moved to Angela's side of the small table. "Have a little," he urged gently.

She looked up into his dark, dead eyes, reminding herself that Tucker was in the next room. "Half a gla.s.s. That's all."

Wine poured, Lawrence returned to his seat.

"Dudley and Hill have ordered me to keep them informed of any contact I have with you," she said. "I'm required to call them as soon as I talk to you or your people. If I don't, and they find out, I face the possibility of being fired on the spot. I left a message for Carter Hill this evening before Tucker picked me up to let him know about this dinner."

"That's fine," he acknowledged. "But they didn't forbid you from seeing me, did they?"

"No. In fact, just the opposite. When I told them about our meeting in Wyoming, and that I never wanted to meet with you again," she said, watching Lawrence's reaction, "Dudley didn't bat an eye. He made it clear to me that he didn't care about me one bit, that our relationship was all about him, that I was to be enthusiastic about working with you if you called again."

"Always keep your enemies as close as possible," Lawrence said quietly.

"Excuse me? I didn't hear you."

"Bob Dudley believes that I'm out to steal his beloved Sumter Bank from him. Because my resources are so much greater than his, he figures his best, perhaps only, chance of stopping me is to antic.i.p.ate my every move. So he's trying to stay as close to me as he can through you. He doesn't understand that I have no interest in acquiring the d.a.m.n bank."

"Then why have you increased your ownership stake from 8 to 10 percent?" she asked.

Lawrence peered intently at Angela from across the table but said nothing.

"I checked the 13-d filings again on Friday afternoon," she explained. "You spent another $110 million for an additional 2 percent of the bank's shares. If you have no interest in acquiring Sumter, why do you keep buying more shares?"

"I told you," Lawrence replied evenly. "I believe it's a good long-term investment."

"No chance it's really the other way around here? That I'm the one keeping Bob Dudley close to you?" she pressed.

"No chance at all," he said firmly.

"Then describe this company you are so interested in acquiring."

"Certainly. Thatwas why I wanted to meet with you tonight."

Angela eased back into her chair, slightly surprised at his amiable reaction. She'd expected him to stall once more. She was certain that there wasn't any acquisition transaction-other than the acquisition of Sumter-and that tonight's dinner would turn out to be nothing more than a debriefing session, with Lawrence trying to determine Dudley's level of resolve for a fight to keep Sumter out of Lawrence's hands. And Lawrence giving her instructions for her next meeting with Dudley and Hill, which, she a.s.sumed, would occur first thing tomorrow morning.

She was resigned to the role of p.a.w.n, tonight's dinner being just another move on the board. It wasn't a game she was proud to partic.i.p.ate in, but, with Lawrence's help, there seemed to be the very real possibility of winning Hunter back. Or at least seeing him a great deal more. For that possibility, she was willing to be put in play.