Page 38 of Holding His Hostage
“He’s happy.”
“He wants to take me to dinner.”
“And what do you want to do?”
“Say yes.” She looked at her hands. “But the kids already like him too much, and I’m afraid they’ll get attached.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“If things didn’t go well between me and Sloan, yes. They just lost their father.”
“And you don’t want to risk it.”
“That’s right.”
Evelyn took her hand. “Risk is what makes life worth living.”
“Risk gives me panic attacks.”
The older woman laughed. “I’m being serious, Jo. Every good thing can only enter your life if you’re willing to shake things up a little. Otherwise, your life will never change.”
“But the kids need stability.”
“And love. It’s clear to me they have yours in spades, but if they’ll ever have it from another parent, you will have to open that gate.”
“He’s only been gone a few days!”
“And if you were in mourning, I would bow my head and weep with you, sweetheart. But you’re not. You aren’t holding that gate closed with all your might because you just lost your love. You’re holding it closed to keep love out. And that’s something I just can’t abide.”
Joanne pulled her hand back. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it? Or are you making it more complicated than it has to be?” Evelyn stood and picked up a folded blanket from a chair. “Now move your tuchus so I can finish making this bed.”
This woman should have been a lawyer. She could peel back the layers on any argument, exposing the hard truth beneath. “He broke my heart.”
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Up.”
Jo stood and moved to the other side of the bed to help. “And I’m scared he’s going to do it again.”
Evelyn spread out the blanket over the bed. “He might. But you’ll never know without trying. And he just might be the best thing to ever happen to those kids.” She smiled. “I should get dinner started so you two can eat before you get back on the road. That’s if I really can’t convince you to stay the night.”
“There isn’t enough room. Besides, Sloan wanted to get a look at the warehouse tonight while no one’s there.”
“A big old warehouse on the river, at night. Sounds terrifying.”
Joanne nodded. But the clock was ticking on Bannon’s invisible timer, counting down to incalculable danger that put the lives of her children in jeopardy. She took a shaking breath in. “For more reasons than one.”
20
It was blustery and dark, a cold wind blowing in gusts across the empty parking lot of Poughkeepsie Plumbing Supply. A chain-link fence surrounded the property, train tracks running between the warehouse and the Hudson River some forty feet away. The fence was buckled in places, wood pallets stacked up behind the building like discarded gift boxes on Christmas morning. A small addition stuck out from the side of the main building like a metal-roofed shanty.
Sloan used his banged-up NVGs to scope out the telephone poles and tall buildings around the property, Joanne on his heels.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait until HERO Force gets here tomorrow?” she asked.
“I just want to check it out. See if we can get the lay of the land while no one’s around.”
“What exactly are we looking for?”
