“You can’t guess? She’s not very big. She’s a half-pint, really, especially compared to you. But she sure is a handful. Oooeee, what a feisty thing. Pretty, too. I can see why you’d like her, although she doesn’t seem like the snobbish type you used to date.”
Nausea roiled in Sebastian’s stomach. He knew what Malcolm was capable of doing and felt helpless to stop him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t? Tsk, tsk. I thought you might be skeptical. But, here, I’ll make it easy.”
Sebastian’s grip tightened on the phone as he heard Malcolm encourage someone to speak. Then Jane’s voice came through, her words a frantic rush. “Don’t do it, Sebastian! Don’t do anything he asks! Take care of Kate and stay away-”
The scream that cut off those words went through Sebastian like a shard of glass. Swallowing hard, he glanced at Jane’s daughter. She was still standing in the hall, watching him curiously. “Malcolm, don’t you dare…”
“Don’t dare what?” he taunted. “Don’t kill her? I might’ve broken her jaw, but she’s not dead. Yet. You’re the one who’ll decide her fate. Not me.”
Somehow, he had to remove Malcolm’s power. “You’re punishing the wrong person,” he said. “I don’t care about her. Not like you think. There’s no way to hurt me through her.”
Sebastian had struggled to make that lie convincing, but his performance evoked a laugh. “Nice try. But I know better. You dropped Constance for her, didn’t you?”
“No. Constance and I grew apart.” Jane was proof of how far they’d drifted. But there was no denying that she made him whole in a way Constance never had.
“That’s not what Constance told me,” Malcolm said.
“You’re lying. Constance might be angry, but she’d never contact you. She hates you, just like I do.”
“Well, you know what they say about a woman scorned. I can forward you the e-mail, if you like.”
It was true, then. Malcolm was taking as much pleasure in letting him know that Constance had betrayed him as he was in having the upper hand with Jane.
Closing his eyes, Sebastian kneaded his forehead. What could he do?
“Sebastian? Is everything okay?” Kate asked.
She was getting frightened. He spoke to her openly, so Malcolm wouldn’t feel threatened by any whispering and harm Jane. “It’s fine. Are you done with your homework?”
“Except a couple of really hard problems.”
“Can you work on them a little longer?” he asked. “I’d help you but this is a very important business call.”
“So it has nothing to do with my mom?”
He winced at the hope in her eyes. “No.” Would he have to recant later? Would he have to tell her that her mother was dead?
Visions of Emily’s lifeless body, of Colton’s, stole his strength. No…
“Who’s that?” Malcolm demanded.
“Can’t you tell? It’s a child.”
“Whose child?”
Sebastian waited until Kate was back in her room. “Jane’s,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “If you kill Jane, you’ll make this child an orphan.”
“If you care about Jane or her child, I suggest you do everything I say.”
“What?” he asked.
“I’m offering you a trade-your life for hers.”
“How?”
“Come to the farmhouse.”
Sebastian preferred to keep Malcolm in town, if possible, where there’d be a better chance of escaping or getting help. “I don’t know where that is.”
“Then get a pen. I’ll give you the address.”
What should he do?
“You still there, tough guy?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m here,” Sebastian said from between clenched teeth and pretended to write down the address he rattled off. “When can we meet?”
“Now.”
“You’re asking for trouble, Malcolm. The police haven’t even finished processing the house. They could be there for all you know.”
“Crime-scene techs don’t work this late, not when they’ve got most of it done. And the police are in no hurry because they can’t even find the suspect. We’ll be fine.”
As usual, it was too easy for Malcolm. Sebastian wanted to tell him he’d go to prison or hell-preferably the latter. But Kate had come out of her room again, this time on the pretense of getting a glass of water. “She’s your only leverage,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
He chuckled. “That’s one hell of a way to make your point, Sebastian. She’s your only leverage. That’s all you’ve got to say?”
That was all he could say in front of Kate. “I’ll make the trade. Just…see that you don’t-” he glanced over at Kate, who was watching him as she sipped from a glass “-you know.”
“I won’t hurt her. Unless you call the police. Do that and she’s dead.”
Sebastian knew that unless they got very lucky, Malcolm would kill her regardless. “I’m on my way.”
“Clock’s ticking,” he said. Then he was gone.
Jane was handcuffed to a rod in the back of a utility van that had no windows, other than those in the front. She could feel the tires thrumming against the pavement, could hear music playing on the radio. And once she’d managed to focus her blurry vision, she could see the back of the man who’d attacked her when she’d gotten into her car. It was Malcolm Turner. She would’ve known him even if she hadn’t carried his picture around with her every minute for a week. She hadn’t found him; he’d found her.
After subduing her long enough to bind and gag her, he’d disappeared. But he’d returned almost immediately, this time with a white van he left idling beside her Camry while he dragged her from one vehicle to the other.
Jane vaguely remembered him using her cell phone to call Sebastian. Then a torrent of memories descended-what he’d said on the phone and how explosively he’d reacted when she’d tried to tell Sebastian not to listen. It hurt to move her jaw. The way her cheekbone throbbed made her wonder if he’d broken bones in her face. Her right eye was so swollen she couldn’t completely open it.