Beth Cornelison

Baby Trouble


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major, here.

      Nick, bless him, was carrying the conversation while her mind stayed frustratingly blank. He asked the German, “When will the announcement be made stopping the trial?”

      “Two days from now.”

      Laura’s heart sank. If AbaCo was behind his kidnapping, they had two days before Adam’s life became irrelevant to his kidnappers. How were they ever going to find him in so little time? Worse, if the trial was dead in the water, she and Nick had no leverage whatsoever to force this man to help them find Adam. Unless …

      She leaned forward. “Werner, here’s the deal. Even if the trial is halted, Nick and I aren’t going to stop. We’re going to go public with everything we have on your company. We’ll use the media to full advantage, and with what we’ve got on AbaCo, we’ll destroy the company. In fact, we can probably do a more effective job of ruining it without the constraints of a trial to tie our hands. Do you believe me?”

      Kloffman stared at her for several long seconds. Finally, he said heavily, “What’s it going to take to stop you from doing that?”

      He might be a figurehead, but he undoubtedly liked his paycheck. He also seemed to understand that, as the figurehead, he’d be the sacrificial lamb.

      Nick replied gently, “Save yourself, Werner. You don’t strike me as a bad type. Don’t let Meredith and her cronies drag you down with them.”

      “How?” Werner snapped. “Who’ll believe me?”

      “Why wouldn’t people believe you?” Nick asked. “I’m living proof that someone at AbaCo is up to no good. And there are others who have been victims of the company.”

      Werner shook his head. “You don’t understand. It’s not about the prisoners they keep. It’s about the cargo.”

      Nick glanced at her. Werner seemed inclined to talk to Nick, so she nodded subtly at him to take the lead. “What about the cargo?” Nick asked.

      “AbaCo has become the freight carrier of choice for every nefarious group you can think of—drug lords, weapons dealers, terrorists, slavers, illegal lumber smugglers, you name it.”

      Nick paled beside her. It had to be painful to hear that his family’s firm had fallen so far. “Do you have proof?” he asked hoarsely.

      Kloffman hesitated one last time, and then he capitulated all in a rush. “I’ve been collecting it for years. Bit by bit. I had to be careful. But I’ve got cargo manifests, incriminating emails from customers, shipping documents, even financial records.”

      “Why haven’t you taken it to the authorities before now?” Nick queried.

      “What authorities?” Kloffman answered bitterly. “The same ones who are also using AbaCo to do their dirty work? How do you think the CIA gets weapons and supplies to the various regimes Uncle Sam can’t publicly support?”

      The three of them fell silent.

      Laura eventually broke the silence. “Who within the company does the dirty work?”

      “The Special Cargo division,” Kloffman answered promptly.

      That made sense. The people on trial for kidnapping Nick came out of that group. But the Feds had been combing through that division’s records for most of the past year and not found anything to indicate that AbaCo was engaging in widespread criminal activity.

      “Do you have access to their real records, then?” Laura asked curiously.

      Kloffman nodded eagerly. “I’ve been copying everything for the past three years.” He added sourly, “They didn’t even bother to restrict my access to the accounts. They think I’m too stupid to notice what they’re up to.”

      Nick made a commiserating sound, and Werner shared an aggrieved look with him. Nick really was incredible at garnering empathy and trust from the German. He asked gently, “Do you have copies of these records with you? If you wouldn’t mind sharing them with us, I swear to you we’ll see they fall into the right hands.”

      Kloffman reared back sharply. “No way. They’ll kill me.”

      No need to ask who “they” was. Nick said soothingly, “Not if they don’t know who the source of the leak was. I give you my word of honor we won’t reveal where or who we got the information from.”

      Kloffman didn’t look convinced. Laura spoke quietly. “Somebody has kidnapped our son. He’s six years old. And he’s going to die if we don’t find him. Soon. Please help us, Herr Kloffman. I promise we’ll help you.”

      He nodded slowly. “I will give you everything I have. Maybe you can find something about your boy.”

      Laura rose to her feet eagerly and Nick did the same.

      “I’m sorry, but I don’t have the files with me. I keep them in a safe place.”

      As would she in the same situation. So. It was going to require a leap of faith on their part, too. “Of course, Herr Kloffman. How soon can you get us a copy?”

      “Twenty-four hours, maybe.”

      A whole day? Her gut twisted in dismay. But it wasn’t like she had any choice in the matter. “Please hurry.” Desperation crept into her voice. “He’s so little….”

      Kloffman squeezed her elbow reassuringly. “I shall do what I can to help, Fraulein.’’

      She nodded, too choked up to say any more. Nick quietly traded contact information with the German and then guided her to the front door.

      “A word of advice, Kloffman,” Nick commented as he reached for the doorknob. “Convince whoever’s actually running the show to sell off the pre-1970 ships before you have a major accident. Dump the Euro debt and invest in new, Norwegian-built, fast ships.”

      Kloffman stared. “I beg your pardon?”

      Nick shrugged. “Spiros Shipping has been in my family for three generations. And it’s being run into the ground. Stop thinking about short-term profit and look to the future before you destroy my company.”

      The German stared, flummoxed. “Assuming I still have a job in a week, I’ll try.”

      “Thank you for your help, Herr Kloffman,” Nick said soberly as he opened the front door. “We are in your debt.”

      Out of reflex, Laura reached for the light switch and turned off the porch light as she stepped outside. The night was dark and cold, and she was more terrified than ever of the forces that had taken her son from her.

       Chapter 9

      Nick’s breathing still hadn’t returned to normal, and he’d been driving as fast as he dared back toward the estate for nearly a half hour. His company had become a major crime syndicate, compliments of a wife he didn’t remember? Why on God’s green earth had he ever married the woman? He supposed it didn’t matter, now. The deed was done, the damage cascading down on everyone he loved.

      Laura burst out, “Do we dare trust him? With Adam’s life?”

      “I think we should,” he answered.

      “Why?”

      He shrugged. “The time may come when we need Kloffman to hesitate before he calls his dogs down on us or Adam. I think we gave him good reason to hesitate.”

      Laura sighed beside him. “You’re right, of course. I’m just not capable of thinking that clearly right now.”

      He glanced over at her. “You’re not supposed to be thinking clearly. You’re a mother. You’re allowed to be panicked.”

      “But Adam needs Super Mommy.” Laura’s