at Evie. Most excellent. Diversions among the wardens would keep the spotlight off Sue.
“My brother-in-law David. He’s the most trustworthy man I know. Well, after my husband, of course. He’ll be done quickly, so you’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
The Adonis was her brother-in-law? If her husband was half as good-looking as his brother, it was just one more reason to hate Caroline. Sue lowered her eyes to the worn carpet that covered the floor. “Thanks. I need to get back to Erik now.”
“Of course. Oh, Jane?”
Sue turned to find Caroline’s smile still firmly in place. “Yes?”
“I couldn’t help but notice the smell of smoke in the bathroom. We don’t allow smoking here at Hanover House. It bothers the children and it’s a fire hazard. It’s an old house. One spark . . .” She let the thought trail with a friendly grimace. “Okay?”
Sue drew a breath. Shoved the anger back down from where it boiled up. Little bitch, trying to tell me what to do. Sue nodded at the carpet. “I’m sorry.” She gritted the apology through her teeth, trying like hell to re-affect the put-upon Jane.
“It’s not a problem. I just needed you to know. I’ll see you later.”
Sue jerked a nod. “Later.” Quickly she escaped back into her room, glancing in the mirror on the wall. Caroline was still standing in the hall, staring after her with a troubled frown on her face. Sue shut the door. Carefully.
She would regain control of herself. You will calm down. She came to an abrupt halt, realizing she’d been pacing the floor with quick, savage steps. She drew a deep breath.
I only need a week, she thought, looking at the kid peacefully sleeping. But first, there were still things to do. She dug the digital camera she’d stolen from Rickman from her backpack and snapped a picture of the sleeping kid. Nothing dramatic, just a little reminder to the Vaughns that she still held all the cards. She pulled the laptop from her backpack, flipped its power button. She’d give them her terms now. Five million wired to an offshore account. She’d learned all about offshore accounts in the prison library.
She frowned. The laptop screen was still blank. Shit. The battery was dead.
The computer had plenty of juice when she’d sent the first e-mail from Morgantown. I must not have turned it off when I was finished, she thought crossly and pawed through her backpack, but found no electrical adapter. Fuck. That idiot Bryce had put it in his backpack, which now resided somewhere with the Maryland police. Her heart went still. Had she touched it? No, she was certain she had not, so her person was still in the clear. She just had to find another way to reach out and touch the Vaughns.
Chicago, Sunday, August 1, 2:00 P.M.
Dana closed her office door, wincing when Evie’s bedroom door slammed upstairs, hard enough to shake the whole house. Caroline had shaken her awake, told her that Evie had gone to Lillian’s funeral. Dana tried to intercept her, but had been too late. Instead, she’d waited until Evie came out of the church, her heavy pancake makeup streaked with tears. The ride back had not been pleasant. They’d argued bitterly and Evie’s tears flowed again—until a glance in the visor mirror had Evie’s accusations shuddering to an abrupt halt.
Without the makeup, Evie was scarred. With it, Dana thought she looked fake. But when it was melting off her face . . . Dana had to admit Evie looked scary. Like the Phantom of the Opera. Understanding her dismay, Dana had stopped at her apartment to allow Evie to fix her makeup so that no one else could see her that way. And after that, Evie hadn’t said a word.
Dana sat down at her desk and closed her eyes. Her head still hurt from this morning. And she was hungry. French fries at Betty’s with Ethan Buchanan had been a long time ago. Ethan Buchanan. He wanted her to meet him tomorrow. She’d thought about it, sitting out in front of Lillian’s funeral,
“My brother-in-law David. He’s the most trustworthy man I know. Well, after my husband, of course. He’ll be done quickly, so you’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
The Adonis was her brother-in-law? If her husband was half as good-looking as his brother, it was just one more reason to hate Caroline. Sue lowered her eyes to the worn carpet that covered the floor. “Thanks. I need to get back to Erik now.”
“Of course. Oh, Jane?”
Sue turned to find Caroline’s smile still firmly in place. “Yes?”
“I couldn’t help but notice the smell of smoke in the bathroom. We don’t allow smoking here at Hanover House. It bothers the children and it’s a fire hazard. It’s an old house. One spark . . .” She let the thought trail with a friendly grimace. “Okay?”
Sue drew a breath. Shoved the anger back down from where it boiled up. Little bitch, trying to tell me what to do. Sue nodded at the carpet. “I’m sorry.” She gritted the apology through her teeth, trying like hell to re-affect the put-upon Jane.
“It’s not a problem. I just needed you to know. I’ll see you later.”
Sue jerked a nod. “Later.” Quickly she escaped back into her room, glancing in the mirror on the wall. Caroline was still standing in the hall, staring after her with a troubled frown on her face. Sue shut the door. Carefully.
She would regain control of herself. You will calm down. She came to an abrupt halt, realizing she’d been pacing the floor with quick, savage steps. She drew a deep breath.
I only need a week, she thought, looking at the kid peacefully sleeping. But first, there were still things to do. She dug the digital camera she’d stolen from Rickman from her backpack and snapped a picture of the sleeping kid. Nothing dramatic, just a little reminder to the Vaughns that she still held all the cards. She pulled the laptop from her backpack, flipped its power button. She’d give them her terms now. Five million wired to an offshore account. She’d learned all about offshore accounts in the prison library.
She frowned. The laptop screen was still blank. Shit. The battery was dead.
The computer had plenty of juice when she’d sent the first e-mail from Morgantown. I must not have turned it off when I was finished, she thought crossly and pawed through her backpack, but found no electrical adapter. Fuck. That idiot Bryce had put it in his backpack, which now resided somewhere with the Maryland police. Her heart went still. Had she touched it? No, she was certain she had not, so her person was still in the clear. She just had to find another way to reach out and touch the Vaughns.
Chicago, Sunday, August 1, 2:00 P.M.
Dana closed her office door, wincing when Evie’s bedroom door slammed upstairs, hard enough to shake the whole house. Caroline had shaken her awake, told her that Evie had gone to Lillian’s funeral. Dana tried to intercept her, but had been too late. Instead, she’d waited until Evie came out of the church, her heavy pancake makeup streaked with tears. The ride back had not been pleasant. They’d argued bitterly and Evie’s tears flowed again—until a glance in the visor mirror had Evie’s accusations shuddering to an abrupt halt.
Without the makeup, Evie was scarred. With it, Dana thought she looked fake. But when it was melting off her face . . . Dana had to admit Evie looked scary. Like the Phantom of the Opera. Understanding her dismay, Dana had stopped at her apartment to allow Evie to fix her makeup so that no one else could see her that way. And after that, Evie hadn’t said a word.
Dana sat down at her desk and closed her eyes. Her head still hurt from this morning. And she was hungry. French fries at Betty’s with Ethan Buchanan had been a long time ago. Ethan Buchanan. He wanted her to meet him tomorrow. She’d thought about it, sitting out in front of Lillian’s funeral,
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