hear and how he’d be treated.
“What do I say if they call?” she asked.
“Hit record if you can,” Grant answered. “We can listen for any clue in the background noise. Do your best to cooperate without promising anything. I’ll stay in touch through Daniel.”
He had to know he was asking the impossible. She’d willingly give up anything, promise anything, to have Aiden back home safe.
“Shannon.”
She met Grant’s gaze when he repeated her name, gently pulling her attention from the brittle edge of shock and misery. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll make it,” he said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “You were strong enough to leave Stanwood. That couldn’t have been easy.” His eyes flicked to Daniel and back to her. “You’re strong enough to handle this the right way. We’re here to help you.”
He meant it, she could see the concern in his serious brown eyes, and feel the determination emanating from Daniel as he helped her to her feet. “I appreciate it.” Her throat closed as more tears threatened.
They didn’t know her ex like she did. Bradley could elevate ruthless to unprecedented heights. Looking back, escaping him had been nothing short of miraculous. Without the careful sleight of hand and unexpected sympathy shown by Bradley’s personal friend and lawyer, she might not have made it to Philly. She should have thought of it sooner.
“There is someone I could call,” she said. “The phone number I have is old, but it could be a lead right? If he knows what my ex is working on or where he is.”
“That depends on who you’re talking about.”
“Gary Loffler,” she said.
Grant rolled his eyes. “Stanwood’s personal lawyer.”
“You know him, too?” Daniel asked.
“I’ve heard the name here and there,” Grant replied. “Why do you think he’d help?”
Shannon forced herself to say the words. “He was kind to me.” When her marriage had turned into a nightmare, Gary had been the only friendly person in Bradley’s household. “More than fair with me when he handled the divorce.”
“Give me his number.” He pushed a notepad across the desk for her. “I’ll add him to the to-do list.” Grant tapped the notepad. “Let’s think this through. You’ll stick together, but where? We need a safe place for Shannon to stay. I know you have a job to do and this situation complicates matters.”
“It’s fine,” Daniel replied. “I’m already on leave and have plenty to spare. There’s a house not quite done we could use for a day or two.”
Shannon listened to them plan her next forty-eight hours and prayed she wouldn’t be in this heart-wrenching agony for that long. Two days were unfathomable as each minute felt like an eternity all on its own. Daniel’s hand moved lightly across her shoulder, soothing her as the conversation moved on around her. She wanted to spout apologies, though none of this was her fault.
“Should I come in tonight as planned?” Daniel asked.
“No.” Grant reached into his desk drawer and handed over two tickets for the concert. “I’ll find someone to cover the bar. You and Shannon can squeeze into that table of friends you had coming in.”
Weary, Shannon scraped the tiny specks of pewter trim paint from a fingernail. “I couldn’t possibly go out tonight.”
“You don’t have to stay long. With a little luck, I’ll have an update by this evening.” Grant pursed his lips, staring hard at the two of them. “Either way—” he caught Shannon’s gaze “—I’m sure I’ll have more questions. With the tech resources available, I’d rather do more face-to-face than over the phone. The concert is a better reason to come by.”
Once more outvoted by sound logic. Frustrated, her emotions swirling, she agreed. What else could she do? She wanted her phone to ring, to hear her son’s voice. She wanted to know what the kidnappers expected. Only then would they have a solid lead.
As Daniel stepped out into the hallway to make a few phone calls, Grant asked her questions about Bradley and New York, about what she knew of her ex-husband’s habits.
She answered as best she could, considering she’d closed that chapter of her life so many years ago. All the while, questions more essential to her heart, her future, pounded inside her in a vicious cycle.
Where was Aiden? Was he frightened or hungry? At four years old, he probably couldn’t reason out that she’d be searching for him. The despairing thought had her heart withering in her chest.
“Come on, Shannon.”
She followed the sound of the deep voice to Daniel’s face. She’d zoned out again and missed his return to the office. He held out a hand, strong and calloused from hard, honest work. Bradley’s hands had always been soft and well-manicured.
“Come on, now,” he said gently.
What else could she do except go with him? Sobbing and wringing her hands wouldn’t save her son. She thought back to her pregnancy and the days and nights coping with alternating waves of emotion. There had been soaring highs of hope and anticipation of seeing her baby followed by bouts of anxiety over motherhood and wondering how she’d provide. To fill the time, she’d researched, taken classes and socked away every spare penny. She’d prepared and planned to the best of her ability.
She would do the same for Aiden now. Waiting didn’t have to be stagnant. She could shift her focus to anticipating his safe homecoming. In the meantime, she would research her ex and prepare for a rocky road ahead.
Resigned, she put her hand in Daniel’s and followed him out of the club.
* * *
Daniel kept half an eye on Shannon as he drove back to her place. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left the club. Although the silence unnerved him, he didn’t have good cause to break it. She had every right to curl up in a corner until they found a helpful lead on Aiden. He doubted that would happen, but she had every right. Single parenting was tough for anyone. Single parenting the son of Bradley Stanwood? Well, that took more courage.
He’d walked into the club hopeful and walked out more unsettled. He recalled a few national headlines about Stanwood’s less-than-legit business practices. The guy slipped through the system every time. Although Daniel didn’t have all the facts—didn’t feel he had a right to them—she’d been married to a nasty criminal. That kind of mistake just didn’t fit with the sensible, smart and lighthearted woman he knew as an employee.
No, he suspected she didn’t have any influence at all over her ex-husband. Unless the kidnappers asked her for something else, this would not end well.
He shoved aside his doubts and reminded himself he’d seen more than one miracle in his life. As a firefighter, he’d watched people survive who shouldn’t have made it. Faith and belief were core components in survival, as effective as ladders and hoses and medical treatment. His purpose here was to keep Shannon safe while Grant worked on finding her son.
He parked in the alleyway behind her car. Still keeping an eye out for anyone too interested in them, he followed her inside. Her design choices set a clear mood, homey, tidy and comfortable. The furniture was secondhand, in good repair and clean. She’d probably refinished and reupholstered everything herself. Gleaming hardwood floors anchored the modest living room, ran back through the dining space to the kitchen and into an alcove with a stacking washer and dryer.
Without a word, she went up the stairs that bisected the first floor.
Looking closer, he got the sense there were clear rules here about cleaning up, making beds and eating whatever veggies were on the plate. None of that surprised him. Shannon had a reputation among the crew for being prompt, clean and friendly. She pulled her weight—more than—with