“I don’t miss those sweaters,” she said, remembering the way the wool itched against her skin during the three months that she had run from her world to Hale’s.
Hale took the photo from her, placed it facedown on the desk. “I don’t miss anything from Colgan. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a small window and a lot to do.”
“What, Hale? What are you going to…” But Kat trailed off when she saw what had been in the backpack. Cable and harnesses, a small device used to open windows. Kat’s heart began to race.
“Hale, when you said you had work to do, did you mean your kind of work or our kind of work?”
“What’s the matter, Kat?” Hale ran the cable through its harness and secured the other end to a load-bearing beam in the corner of the room. “Don’t you like being out of the loop? I know I did.”
“Hale, don’t—”
“Look at this place, Kat. Look at it!” He reached for a file drawer, threw it open. “Empty,” he snapped and moved on to the next one, which was just as hollow. “Nothing. I’m the CEO without any files, the grandson without a clue, and the boyfriend without the whole story.”
He moved around the desk until there was nothing between the two of them but secrets and disappointment, and Kat was tired of their weight.
“No one tells me anything. Remember? I’m the guy everyone keeps out of the loop.”
“That’s not fair, Hale,” Kat said. “I tried to talk to you about the will.”
“When? When did you try?” Hale shouted in frustration. “For crying out loud, Kat. This is my family.”
“Exactly!” Kat said. “It is your family. And that changes everything. You lose perspective and…you can’t think straight. When it’s personal, Hale, it’s dangerous. Trust me.”
Kat didn’t know what he was doing, she just knew she had to stop him. Or help him. She couldn’t let him go alone, even when he opened the office window and climbed onto the ledge. Sloping steel descended beneath him like an icy cliff.
Then Hale hooked the harness around his waist and said, “Look, Kat, you can leave. Or you can help. It makes no difference to me.”
And then he spread out his arms. And jumped.
Chapter 22
“Whose office is this?” Kat asked the moment she was inside.
“Guess,” Hale said, but she didn’t really have to. There was a photo of Garrett and Natalie on the corner of the desk, but even without it, Kat would have known.
“Hale, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Really? Because I think it’s my only idea,” he snapped, then softened. “You’re right, okay? I’ll say it. Something is wrong. Now, let’s find out what.”
“Then why don’t we come back later—get Simon and Gabrielle and… Hale, let’s just think about this.”
“I’m through thinking, Kat. Garrett is at the launch for now. So the way I see it, we’ve got fifteen—maybe twenty minutes to do this. You can help, or—”
“What do you want me to do?”
The to-do list was simple enough. They’d spent enough time with Simon to know how to bypass the man’s password and access his computer. They could plant their video cameras in the heating vents, and after a few minutes with the phone system, they would be able to overhear every call he made or received on the company line. The fax number could be cloned and the Internet piggybacked. It all should have been easy enough, but Kat could feel Hale’s presence, hear his breath. He was still the boy who had stormed off in London, and even in that tiny office, it was like there was an ocean between them.
Hale neither moved nor spoke for a long time, until finally he asked, “What does he want?”
Kat took a fresh look at the room around her. It was far smaller than she would have expected. The desk. The shelves. Even the view seemed less impressive than the one just a story above.
“He’s not decorating like a man who wants to be top dog,” Kat said.
“No.” Hale reached for the painting behind the desk, slid it aside to reveal the wall-mounted safe hidden behind it. “He’s decorating like a man with things to hide.”
Three minutes later, Kat was still working on the lock.
“Come on, Kat,” Hale said. “Can you get it, or—”
“Got it,” Kat said, standing back and letting the safe door swing open. She reached into the safe and pulled out a stack of accordion-style folders.
“Bingo.” She tossed the folders onto the desk. “Oh, Garrett, you have been a bad, bad boy.”
“Not him,” Hale said, staring into a folder. “Us.”
Kat couldn’t help herself. She reached gingerly for another one, saw the name Elizabeth written on it in big black letters.
“What is it?” she asked.
“There’s a folder here for every member of Hazel’s family,” Hale said. He reached into one, pulled out a black-and-white photograph, and tilted his head. “That’s my uncle Joe,” Hale said. “And that is not my aunt Olivia.”
Kat picked up the folder labeled Senior. “What are these, bank records?” She did a double take, looking at Hale. “Did your dad really pay two million dollars to the campaign to elect Ross Perot?”
“I…” Hale said, stumbling for words and thumbing through another file. “Wow. Well, I guess my cousin Charlotte isn’t actually my cousin.”
“Don’t worry,” Kat said. “It looks like there might be a kid in Queens who is.”
“Do I want to know why Garrett has a news clipping from a hit-and-run on New Year’s Eve 2001?” Hale asked a moment later.