Innocent Hostage (29 page)
Breck sighed. “Well, looking for remorse from him is not going to work. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. I’ve got Ingrid and Kit and my mother to look out for.”
Hull laughed. “And from what I hear, you’ve got Harley Max on your tail, too.”
Breck sniggered. “Could have knocked me down with a feather when I found out
he
was her natural father. Terrifying. But he and Ingrid seem to be jelling together just fine. Only trouble is, with Max’s big mouth, the whole cop shop will know every detail of my life from now on.”
“Have a talk to him, Breck. I would. You’re a private person and he’s a gregarious one. So he has to be taught where to draw the line.”
“Oh, I will. Got an idea Ingrid will back me up.”
Hull gave a huff of laughter. “I’ll back you up. Remember you’ll most likely be in my team as from next month. I’ve asked for you, and they usually give us the staff we want.”
“Thanks. I’d better buy some clothes that don’t make me look like a cop.”
“Won’t make any difference to the seasoned crims. They can spot us a mile off even if we’re in pjs.”
Breck had a mental image of a bunch of cops in striped pajamas pinning down a dealer in an alley behind a bar. “Thanks for your call, Tony. I’d better get the day started before the sun goes down.”
But by the time he’d roused Kit, put on a much-needed load of laundry and got them some breakfast, the sun was already well down on the horizon.
“We’re vampires, Dad,” Kit observed.
“Yeah. Living by night at the moment. Be glad when all this is over. Who do you want to visit first—Grandma or Ingrid?”
“Ingrid.”
That was to be expected. He didn’t really know his grandmother.
And whose fault is that?
No. He’d done the right thing in keeping Kit away from his parents. He was feeling guilty at the moment because his mother was injured. He’d have to make sure that her future was secure. He hoped to God she didn’t decide to do something stupid like forgive his father and spend the rest of her life waiting for him to get out of prison. The charges against Jeremy Marchant hadn’t yet been tabulated, but Breck knew they’d involve blackmail and intention to defraud at the very least, possibly even assault, although he couldn’t see his father throwing a punch. But who knew? The man had always been an enigma. But he certainly wouldn’t be cavorting around the lecture circuit for a good five years at any rate. After that it was doubtful if any of the educational authorities he’d contracted to would want to see him again.
He thought even less of Jeremy Marchant when he saw the strain on his mother’s face as she struggled to raise herself on her pillows. He’d like to knock the living daylights out of his father, and he wished he could punch Angela the way the vicious bitch had punched his mother. Angela must work out like a demon at the gym to pack a massive wallop like that. He wondered if Hull had found Angela’s specialized knuckle-duster yet. It had probably been purchased from Billy Kerr.
“Is Kit all right?” his mother whispered. The nurse had explained to him that talking would be difficult for a few days.
“Hush, Mother. Don’t tire yourself. Kit is just fine, thanks to you and Ingrid. He’s sitting on Ingrid’s bed at the moment, eating her chocolates. She’s on the level above this one.”
There was a short silence, and then she said fretfully, “I wish you’d call me Mom.”
He looked at her for a moment. “I guess that will take a while.” He needed to meet her halfway, but he was tempted to say her request sounded more like a complaint.
“
He
didn’t like that sort of thing. Too colloquial.” The venom in her voice surprised him, and he wondered how many years she’d kept her resentment bottled up. He’d decided years ago that she thought the sun rose and set on his father. Perhaps he had it wrong. But surely she’d had a choice?
“Okay, Mum.” He took her hand. “I want you to get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. Then we can make some plans.”
“Plans?” she whispered.
“Yes. He’ll be going to prison, so things will change.”
He was startled to see an upturn in the corners of her lips. “Prison.” She savored the word. “All right, son. Bring Kit to see me tomorrow.” She released Breck’s hand and lay back on the pillows stacked behind her.
As he left, a nurse brushed past him, a tray of instruments in her hands. “Just giving her something to help her sleep. Your visit seems to have done her good. She’s smiling.”
Breck looked back. His mother
was
smiling. Give it time and things would sort themselves out.
****
“So when are you going to make an honest man of me?” he asked, half an hour later. Ingrid was contemplating her array of floral tributes and grapes. Kit appeared to have eaten all the chocolates.
“Uh…” She stammered, reddening. “Look, I didn’t mean to box you in or anything. When I said that my father and my fiancé had rescued me from the ghastly Angela, I didn’t mean—well, I didn’t expect you to…” She trailed off.
Harley Max had apparently gone to work and Kit was at the end of the hospital corridor admiring the self-serve confectionery cabinet.
Now was his chance. But Lord, he was jittery. His stomach jumped and quivered and the hand he held out to her shook like a leaf in a gale. “Ingrid, I’m terrified. I’ve never proposed before. With Tania things just sort of happened. And I haven’t got you a ring yet. And—”
She leaned forward awkwardly and planted a wet kiss on him. “Shut up, Marchant. Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“No. I don’t
know
, but I’d hoped. There’s nothing else to worry about then, is there?”
“Oh, yes there is. I haven’t heard the magic words from you yet, and then there’s your father.” He shuddered. “The father-in-law from hell.”
Ingrid burst out laughing. “If you could see your face! You know I love you, you double-dyed nitwit. Do you think I’d have put myself through the last eight weeks if I didn’t? I could have walked away.”
“Has it only been eight weeks? Hell, that’ll be something else your father will have against me.” He groaned.
She laughed. “He doesn’t have anything against you. Says you’re one of the best operatives he’s ever had. But he’ll never tell you that face-to-face. Actually, I’m quite glad I’ve only just got to know him. If he’d been around while I was in my teens, I’d probably have pulled my hair out trying to live up to his standards as well as Tom’s expectations. And then there’s Mum…” She rolled her eyes.
Breck rubbed his forehead. A few weeks ago there’d been just Kit and Breck. Now there was Kit and Breck and Ingrid and Mom and Harley Max and the rest. He hoped to God he could cope with them all without stuffing up too often. No doubt he’d manage. After the past few weeks he could probably handle anything.
Ingrid took his hand. “You’ll cope,” she said, reading his mind. “You’ll do just fine. And I still haven’t had the bended knee thing. How come you didn’t propose to Tania?” She was referring to his comment about never having proposed before.
He shook his head. “She sort of proposed to me. Still don’t know why. Backup in case her schemes went wrong, I guess.”
“No. She saw a man of value and she wanted him.”
Breck could feel himself reddening. “Uh—”
“So come on. Propose before Kit gets back.”
“Yes ma’am.” Feeling like seven kinds of idiot, he got down on one knee beside the bed. “Dear Ingrid, will you do me the honor—”
“Look girls! A proposal!” A bevy of nurses clustered around the doorway, exclaiming and laughing. The lone male nurse amongst them cast Breck a sympathetic look.
Red-faced, Breck clambered to his feet. “Ingrid, can we do this later?”
Eyes brimming with laughter, she peered at him from behind the bed sheet. “Poor Breck. Never mind. I consider myself proposed to. The answer’s yes.”
“I should bloody well hope so,” Breck muttered, sotto voce.
The nurses moved on and Kit took their place. “What’s happening, Daddy?”
“Ah, hell.”
“Daddy! You swore!”
“Mmm. Hi, Kit. How about we go get you a salad to counteract all those chocolates?”
“Okay.”
The great thing about Kit was that he was fond of food; it didn’t really matter what the food was, he ate it. Breck surmised that the boy had gone without quite often when he’d lived with the Kerrs.
“Hey guys,” Ingrid whispered. “Could you bring me a salad? I’m real sick of sloppy baby food.”
Breck looked at the side of her face where Angela had thwapped her. It was the opposite side to where Tania had bashed her several days ago which was fortunate, but it meant that now her entire face was a huge swelling bruise. He could understand why the hospital was feeding her soft foods. Probably thought she had a couple of loose teeth underneath all that purple. “You think that’s a good idea?”
She did her eye-rolling thing and Kit smirked.
“Please. I’m desperate.”
Common sense told him it was wiser to wait a couple of days before she had solid food, but the pleading hazel eyes won out over common sense. Something told him she was always going to have this effect on him. He sighed, and then grinned. Actually it was a damn good feeling knowing she was going to be around, working her wiles, for the years to come. He kissed her goodbye and went out to find a Salad King.
Chapter Thirty
Three days later, Breck, Ingrid, Harley Max, Tony Hull and Raker all squeezed into Max’s office. Ingrid still didn’t feel up to par, but when she’d stared into the mirror this morning the bruises had looked as though they were beginning to fade. Her swollen face had already gone back to normal. The suspected broken cheekbone hadn’t eventuated, for which she was thankful. It had been difficult peering over the swelling beneath her eye socket.
The men looked a lot better too. Amazing what a couple of nights’ sleep could do. Breck looked relaxed, his feet hooked around the rungs of a stool that her father kept in the corner. It still seemed odd thinking of Harley Max as her father. The only regret she had was that Tom Rowland was no longer interested in her. He had dropped her like a hot coal once Marla had contacted Harley. For twenty-one years he had been the only father she had known. Sure, he was demanding. He wanted results for his investment. That was the way he saw relationships. But he was well meaning in a grim sort of way, and Ingrid hoped that with time, Tom would be able to adjust to the changed circumstances.
“It’s bloody frustrating,” Detective Sergeant Hull said, yanking on his tie. “Whatever we come up with, Angela Briscoe swears that everything was Tania’s idea. It was Tania who worked on Breck so that he’d marry her because she needed a cast-iron respectable background. She probably thought that having a cop for a husband would come in handy. It was Tania who set up Billy Kerr to do their dirty work, and it was Tania who arranged to have Marty Kerr removed. Of course it was Tania’s idea to set fire to the preschool and to attack Ms. Rowland. Naturally it was also Tania who decided to kidnap her own son so she’d have a measure of control over Breck if any of her schemes went awry. And of course it was Tania who had a long-term affair with Jeremy Marchant.”
“Busy woman,” Ingrid commented.
“Yes, and that brings us to you, Ms. Rowland. Both attacks on you have been exceptionally violent. Why?” Hull’s sharp grey eyes bored into her. “What do Tania and Angela have against you?”
“Not Angela. It’s what Tania has…had against me. The trouble is, when I thought I was talking to Tania, it might well have been Angela. Tania was often in peculiar moods during our preschool training. Strangely enough, she was good with kids. But she rubbed a couple of our lecturers up the wrong way, didn’t attend more than half of the lectures, and kept trying to copy my assignments. When I tried to avoid her, she took pleasure in seeking me out. I could see by her smug expression that she enjoyed riling me. She knew she made me uncomfortable and that I didn’t have the guts to call her on it.”
“And? There must be more to it than that.”
“She downloaded my final exam answers from my laptop and passed it off as her own work. So much so that I was called on to explain how my answers and ‘another student’s’ were identical, word for word. It pissed me off that they approached me first before they questioned Tania. They threatened to fail me. Three years’ work for nothing. All because of Tania Bedloe. I didn’t take it lying down. I told them how Tania only befriended me when an assignment was due. I also told them that I thought she had some sort of mental health issue.” She turned to Breck as if he’d objected. “I was fighting for my future, and I pulled out every stop.”
He nodded.
“When you mentioned mental health issues, what did they say?” Hull inquired.
“Nothing. She was a chameleon. It was her word against mine, and she was more plausible. She’d had plenty of practice. I was the one the Board labelled with mental health issues.” She shivered and wrapped her coat around herself. “Fortunately a couple of my lecturers stood up for me. It became a ‘he said,’ ‘she said’ standoff and in the end they grudgingly gave me a pass. But not the grade A I had earned. I was given a grade C aegrotat pass. I’ve been fighting ever since to keep my school up to the highest possible standard. Rowlands is subject to snap inspections as well as the usual one each semester.”
Hull laughed. “And from what I hear, you’ve got Harley Max on your tail, too.”
Breck sniggered. “Could have knocked me down with a feather when I found out
he
was her natural father. Terrifying. But he and Ingrid seem to be jelling together just fine. Only trouble is, with Max’s big mouth, the whole cop shop will know every detail of my life from now on.”
“Have a talk to him, Breck. I would. You’re a private person and he’s a gregarious one. So he has to be taught where to draw the line.”
“Oh, I will. Got an idea Ingrid will back me up.”
Hull gave a huff of laughter. “I’ll back you up. Remember you’ll most likely be in my team as from next month. I’ve asked for you, and they usually give us the staff we want.”
“Thanks. I’d better buy some clothes that don’t make me look like a cop.”
“Won’t make any difference to the seasoned crims. They can spot us a mile off even if we’re in pjs.”
Breck had a mental image of a bunch of cops in striped pajamas pinning down a dealer in an alley behind a bar. “Thanks for your call, Tony. I’d better get the day started before the sun goes down.”
But by the time he’d roused Kit, put on a much-needed load of laundry and got them some breakfast, the sun was already well down on the horizon.
“We’re vampires, Dad,” Kit observed.
“Yeah. Living by night at the moment. Be glad when all this is over. Who do you want to visit first—Grandma or Ingrid?”
“Ingrid.”
That was to be expected. He didn’t really know his grandmother.
And whose fault is that?
No. He’d done the right thing in keeping Kit away from his parents. He was feeling guilty at the moment because his mother was injured. He’d have to make sure that her future was secure. He hoped to God she didn’t decide to do something stupid like forgive his father and spend the rest of her life waiting for him to get out of prison. The charges against Jeremy Marchant hadn’t yet been tabulated, but Breck knew they’d involve blackmail and intention to defraud at the very least, possibly even assault, although he couldn’t see his father throwing a punch. But who knew? The man had always been an enigma. But he certainly wouldn’t be cavorting around the lecture circuit for a good five years at any rate. After that it was doubtful if any of the educational authorities he’d contracted to would want to see him again.
He thought even less of Jeremy Marchant when he saw the strain on his mother’s face as she struggled to raise herself on her pillows. He’d like to knock the living daylights out of his father, and he wished he could punch Angela the way the vicious bitch had punched his mother. Angela must work out like a demon at the gym to pack a massive wallop like that. He wondered if Hull had found Angela’s specialized knuckle-duster yet. It had probably been purchased from Billy Kerr.
“Is Kit all right?” his mother whispered. The nurse had explained to him that talking would be difficult for a few days.
“Hush, Mother. Don’t tire yourself. Kit is just fine, thanks to you and Ingrid. He’s sitting on Ingrid’s bed at the moment, eating her chocolates. She’s on the level above this one.”
There was a short silence, and then she said fretfully, “I wish you’d call me Mom.”
He looked at her for a moment. “I guess that will take a while.” He needed to meet her halfway, but he was tempted to say her request sounded more like a complaint.
“
He
didn’t like that sort of thing. Too colloquial.” The venom in her voice surprised him, and he wondered how many years she’d kept her resentment bottled up. He’d decided years ago that she thought the sun rose and set on his father. Perhaps he had it wrong. But surely she’d had a choice?
“Okay, Mum.” He took her hand. “I want you to get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. Then we can make some plans.”
“Plans?” she whispered.
“Yes. He’ll be going to prison, so things will change.”
He was startled to see an upturn in the corners of her lips. “Prison.” She savored the word. “All right, son. Bring Kit to see me tomorrow.” She released Breck’s hand and lay back on the pillows stacked behind her.
As he left, a nurse brushed past him, a tray of instruments in her hands. “Just giving her something to help her sleep. Your visit seems to have done her good. She’s smiling.”
Breck looked back. His mother
was
smiling. Give it time and things would sort themselves out.
****
“So when are you going to make an honest man of me?” he asked, half an hour later. Ingrid was contemplating her array of floral tributes and grapes. Kit appeared to have eaten all the chocolates.
“Uh…” She stammered, reddening. “Look, I didn’t mean to box you in or anything. When I said that my father and my fiancé had rescued me from the ghastly Angela, I didn’t mean—well, I didn’t expect you to…” She trailed off.
Harley Max had apparently gone to work and Kit was at the end of the hospital corridor admiring the self-serve confectionery cabinet.
Now was his chance. But Lord, he was jittery. His stomach jumped and quivered and the hand he held out to her shook like a leaf in a gale. “Ingrid, I’m terrified. I’ve never proposed before. With Tania things just sort of happened. And I haven’t got you a ring yet. And—”
She leaned forward awkwardly and planted a wet kiss on him. “Shut up, Marchant. Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“No. I don’t
know
, but I’d hoped. There’s nothing else to worry about then, is there?”
“Oh, yes there is. I haven’t heard the magic words from you yet, and then there’s your father.” He shuddered. “The father-in-law from hell.”
Ingrid burst out laughing. “If you could see your face! You know I love you, you double-dyed nitwit. Do you think I’d have put myself through the last eight weeks if I didn’t? I could have walked away.”
“Has it only been eight weeks? Hell, that’ll be something else your father will have against me.” He groaned.
She laughed. “He doesn’t have anything against you. Says you’re one of the best operatives he’s ever had. But he’ll never tell you that face-to-face. Actually, I’m quite glad I’ve only just got to know him. If he’d been around while I was in my teens, I’d probably have pulled my hair out trying to live up to his standards as well as Tom’s expectations. And then there’s Mum…” She rolled her eyes.
Breck rubbed his forehead. A few weeks ago there’d been just Kit and Breck. Now there was Kit and Breck and Ingrid and Mom and Harley Max and the rest. He hoped to God he could cope with them all without stuffing up too often. No doubt he’d manage. After the past few weeks he could probably handle anything.
Ingrid took his hand. “You’ll cope,” she said, reading his mind. “You’ll do just fine. And I still haven’t had the bended knee thing. How come you didn’t propose to Tania?” She was referring to his comment about never having proposed before.
He shook his head. “She sort of proposed to me. Still don’t know why. Backup in case her schemes went wrong, I guess.”
“No. She saw a man of value and she wanted him.”
Breck could feel himself reddening. “Uh—”
“So come on. Propose before Kit gets back.”
“Yes ma’am.” Feeling like seven kinds of idiot, he got down on one knee beside the bed. “Dear Ingrid, will you do me the honor—”
“Look girls! A proposal!” A bevy of nurses clustered around the doorway, exclaiming and laughing. The lone male nurse amongst them cast Breck a sympathetic look.
Red-faced, Breck clambered to his feet. “Ingrid, can we do this later?”
Eyes brimming with laughter, she peered at him from behind the bed sheet. “Poor Breck. Never mind. I consider myself proposed to. The answer’s yes.”
“I should bloody well hope so,” Breck muttered, sotto voce.
The nurses moved on and Kit took their place. “What’s happening, Daddy?”
“Ah, hell.”
“Daddy! You swore!”
“Mmm. Hi, Kit. How about we go get you a salad to counteract all those chocolates?”
“Okay.”
The great thing about Kit was that he was fond of food; it didn’t really matter what the food was, he ate it. Breck surmised that the boy had gone without quite often when he’d lived with the Kerrs.
“Hey guys,” Ingrid whispered. “Could you bring me a salad? I’m real sick of sloppy baby food.”
Breck looked at the side of her face where Angela had thwapped her. It was the opposite side to where Tania had bashed her several days ago which was fortunate, but it meant that now her entire face was a huge swelling bruise. He could understand why the hospital was feeding her soft foods. Probably thought she had a couple of loose teeth underneath all that purple. “You think that’s a good idea?”
She did her eye-rolling thing and Kit smirked.
“Please. I’m desperate.”
Common sense told him it was wiser to wait a couple of days before she had solid food, but the pleading hazel eyes won out over common sense. Something told him she was always going to have this effect on him. He sighed, and then grinned. Actually it was a damn good feeling knowing she was going to be around, working her wiles, for the years to come. He kissed her goodbye and went out to find a Salad King.
Chapter Thirty
Three days later, Breck, Ingrid, Harley Max, Tony Hull and Raker all squeezed into Max’s office. Ingrid still didn’t feel up to par, but when she’d stared into the mirror this morning the bruises had looked as though they were beginning to fade. Her swollen face had already gone back to normal. The suspected broken cheekbone hadn’t eventuated, for which she was thankful. It had been difficult peering over the swelling beneath her eye socket.
The men looked a lot better too. Amazing what a couple of nights’ sleep could do. Breck looked relaxed, his feet hooked around the rungs of a stool that her father kept in the corner. It still seemed odd thinking of Harley Max as her father. The only regret she had was that Tom Rowland was no longer interested in her. He had dropped her like a hot coal once Marla had contacted Harley. For twenty-one years he had been the only father she had known. Sure, he was demanding. He wanted results for his investment. That was the way he saw relationships. But he was well meaning in a grim sort of way, and Ingrid hoped that with time, Tom would be able to adjust to the changed circumstances.
“It’s bloody frustrating,” Detective Sergeant Hull said, yanking on his tie. “Whatever we come up with, Angela Briscoe swears that everything was Tania’s idea. It was Tania who worked on Breck so that he’d marry her because she needed a cast-iron respectable background. She probably thought that having a cop for a husband would come in handy. It was Tania who set up Billy Kerr to do their dirty work, and it was Tania who arranged to have Marty Kerr removed. Of course it was Tania’s idea to set fire to the preschool and to attack Ms. Rowland. Naturally it was also Tania who decided to kidnap her own son so she’d have a measure of control over Breck if any of her schemes went awry. And of course it was Tania who had a long-term affair with Jeremy Marchant.”
“Busy woman,” Ingrid commented.
“Yes, and that brings us to you, Ms. Rowland. Both attacks on you have been exceptionally violent. Why?” Hull’s sharp grey eyes bored into her. “What do Tania and Angela have against you?”
“Not Angela. It’s what Tania has…had against me. The trouble is, when I thought I was talking to Tania, it might well have been Angela. Tania was often in peculiar moods during our preschool training. Strangely enough, she was good with kids. But she rubbed a couple of our lecturers up the wrong way, didn’t attend more than half of the lectures, and kept trying to copy my assignments. When I tried to avoid her, she took pleasure in seeking me out. I could see by her smug expression that she enjoyed riling me. She knew she made me uncomfortable and that I didn’t have the guts to call her on it.”
“And? There must be more to it than that.”
“She downloaded my final exam answers from my laptop and passed it off as her own work. So much so that I was called on to explain how my answers and ‘another student’s’ were identical, word for word. It pissed me off that they approached me first before they questioned Tania. They threatened to fail me. Three years’ work for nothing. All because of Tania Bedloe. I didn’t take it lying down. I told them how Tania only befriended me when an assignment was due. I also told them that I thought she had some sort of mental health issue.” She turned to Breck as if he’d objected. “I was fighting for my future, and I pulled out every stop.”
He nodded.
“When you mentioned mental health issues, what did they say?” Hull inquired.
“Nothing. She was a chameleon. It was her word against mine, and she was more plausible. She’d had plenty of practice. I was the one the Board labelled with mental health issues.” She shivered and wrapped her coat around herself. “Fortunately a couple of my lecturers stood up for me. It became a ‘he said,’ ‘she said’ standoff and in the end they grudgingly gave me a pass. But not the grade A I had earned. I was given a grade C aegrotat pass. I’ve been fighting ever since to keep my school up to the highest possible standard. Rowlands is subject to snap inspections as well as the usual one each semester.”
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