The Innocent: A Vanessa Michael Munroe Novel (40 page)

“I kind of figured that’s how it would go,” Munroe said. “Is Charity already in town?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Bradford said. “But Logan’s been pushing nonstop to have me give Hannah to him. I had to turn off the phone.”

“I can only imagine how difficult this is for him,” Munroe said. Logan had waited eight years for his daughter, and now that she was in custody, he couldn’t even come to hold her hand while her mother
traveled down. But it was the way it had to be. Kidnapping and transporting a child across international borders was a serious crime. That they were doing so under the auspices of the child’s legal guardian was something of a gray area, and in order to fly under the radar of the law, they had to wait for Charity.

“It can’t be helped,” Munroe said. “But maybe it’s for the best, because I need to talk to Hannah before she meets any of the others. I don’t know if it’ll go any better than it did for you, but I’m no longer a complete stranger, and I have something that she needs to hear.”

Munroe let the water out of the tub, stood, and turned on the shower. From beyond the curtain her body was a vague silhouette, and Bradford watched with unabashed appreciation as she stretched her neck long and let the water beat against the back of it. Then, shutting off the water, she said, “We’ll bring Hannah out of it in the morning. That’ll give me several hours at least before her mom gets here.”

Munroe reached her hand beyond the curtain, fingers wiggling expectantly, and Bradford grinned and handed her a hand towel. She laughed and tossed it back. “Give me,” she said, and he gave her a bath towel.

“I got another bit of information out of New York this morning,” he said. “A decent-size update on the investigation that’s under way up there.”

Munroe stepped from the shower, pink from the heat and towel wrapped around her. “Oh?” she said.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling, saying nothing more.

She smacked the back of her hand to his biceps and, smirking, said, “I’m not going to beg you for the details, Miles, no matter how much you want me to.”

“We’ll see,” he said, but his voice trailed and lowered, and had none of the bravado that he’d intended. In front of him, she stood warm and wet, and no matter how untoward it might appear, he couldn’t avert his eyes. To believe that he had lost her forever, only to have her gifted back, had altered any sense of propriety, and took
from him all the reserve and control that thus far had kept him from pursuing her.

He reached out, put a hand behind her neck, pulled her close, and kissed her.

She could have pushed him away or gone cold, gone deadly, and he would have suffered the consequences willingly, if only to have that taste. But instead she put her hands to his face, let the towel drop, and kissed him back.

He grabbed her to him, fingers and mouth hungry, wanting, and in full reciprocation her hands found their way underneath his shirt and began to pull it off.

They had started in the bathroom and ended on the living room sofa. Munroe had no idea of the time, only a vague notion of how much had passed, and that it was now dark outside. The suite was lit by ambient light from the windows and what little seeped from under the bathroom door.

Bradford lay with his back flat to the couch, and she was beside him, on her side with her head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. He’d drifted off to sleep, and although the idea of joining him in dreamland, joining him for longer, was tempting, she had work to do.

As close as they were to handing off Hannah and finishing what they’d come down to accomplish, the assignment had loose ends. Munroe’s dilemma at the Haven Ranch hadn’t ended simply because circumstances had forced her to move away from it in the middle of the night. Elijah was far out of sight, but his treatment of Hannah wasn’t out of mind, nor was the convoluted way that everyone was connected, each relation turning in on another like an endless loop.

Munroe slid over Bradford, making a halfhearted attempt not to wake him, though she gladdened when he did.

“Where are you going?” he whispered.

“I need to talk to Heidi,” she said. “And then I need to find Gideon and Logan. But first, I really need to eat.”

Bradford was silent, and she knew the struggle. He didn’t want her to go without him, but neither could they leave Hannah unattended—even though she continued unconscious.

Munroe stood, went to the bathroom, and retrieved the clothes that had never made it on her the first time. She slid into pants that, though a bit large, didn’t fall around her knees, and left the shirt hanging baggy over them.

Bradford remained on the couch, eyes tracking her movements until she had fully dressed and her boots were back on, and then he stood. He walked to one TV desk, his naked physique a beautiful shape against the moonlight. He picked up the cell phone and tossed it to her.

“It would make me feel a whole lot better about staying behind,” he said, “if you’d meet them at the restaurant downstairs.”

She nodded. “I can do that,” she said, although they might, perhaps, suspect that Hannah was in the hotel, and Logan’s tenaciousness could become an issue. “Is the room in either of our names?” she asked.

He shook his head and held up empty hands. “No identification or credit cards. I arranged it long before we ever flew, just had to know where to find the keycard.”

Munroe smiled. This was one of the many things she liked about Bradford, that his mind worked so similarly to the way hers did, that he was able to plan and process in several directions at once, many moves in advance of where they stood.

“This phone goes to Logan, right?”

Bradford nodded.

“How do I reach Heidi?”

“She’s at the Balmoral Plaza,” he said, and Munroe left unspoken the dozen personal questions unspooling in her head.

Getting the number for the hotel and then Heidi’s room was easy enough, and from there Munroe made two calls. The first was to Heidi, the second to Logan, and with each she arranged to gather at the hotel’s
restaurant. But she gave Heidi a different time. Munroe wanted her there first, wanted her alone without the others, every second discussing details that she’d no desire to relay, a necessary evil that she would have avoided if she could.

She’d run the scenarios backward, forward, and around again. She’d come to Argentina, accomplished what she’d set out to do, and these loose ends were extraneous—not her burden to bear. Yet in good conscience she couldn’t walk away. She’d seen, was aware, and to refuse to act, to turn her back completely and ignore what lay in plain sight, was to become a complicit part of it all in the same way that each person within The Chosen had become complicit.

Munroe could see only one clear path toward extricating herself from a responsibility she’d never wanted, and this was part of it. Heidi had to know. And no child, no matter how adult, or how long estranged, would willingly bear the news that the father she loved and longed to reconnect with was potentially a child molester.

Heidi’s own childhood experience would speak to the truth in what Munroe would say, and yet the human condition was so strong that it would force her into denial. She couldn’t accept it, wouldn’t want to, and the emotional conflict would over time become extreme. It would be far better if Heidi heard the news and confronted the initial round of disbelief with Munroe instead of hearing it later from Logan or Charity, when the truth eventually surfaced.

And it would surface, of this Munroe was certain. Because even if Hannah didn’t tell her parents what had been going on, Munroe sure as hell would. Unlike the tarnished history of The Chosen and their older children, right here, right now, there were no expired statutes of limitations, no possibility of hiding and protecting the criminal, and if jurisdiction became an issue, Munroe would personally rendition Elijah back to the United States and dump his ass on the courthouse steps if that’s what it took. And maybe, just maybe, this time the legal system would work to protect those it was designed to protect, and save Munroe from being forced to take matters into her own hands.

She left the hotel room, found a table at the restaurant, and
ordered. She ate heartily, her body still craving true sustenance, and had nearly finished when Heidi arrived.

Less than forty-eight hours had passed since they’d last met at the bar in San Telmo, and still it felt like a lifetime. As was Heidi’s way, she greeted Munroe with a hug and then, full of genuine concern, asked about the bruises.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Heidi said. “Not with the clothes and your hair and your face like that.” She paused. “Just like you said it would be.” Without waiting for a response she handed Munroe a small plastic bag with a change of clothes. “They were the smallest things I have with me.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Munroe said. “I just want her to have something available if she wants it, so she doesn’t have to face strangers in her pajamas.”

Heidi nodded and looked around the restaurant. “Where are the guys?”

“They’ll get here as soon as they can,” Munroe said, her answer the truth, if not completely.

She invited Heidi to sit, and they exchanged small talk until Munroe, in as offhanded and casual a way as possible, segued into the events of the last week, a setup for what was to come, all of it necessary to take Heidi off her guard. She told first of what it had taken to get Hannah out of the country, and then how the Havens had been located and the methodology of gaining entrance once they’d known where Hannah was. All of this was new to Heidi, who sat wide-eyed, full of questions and tangible energy, which grew even more intense when Munroe spoke of Heidi’s siblings.

“I expect that we’ll eventually hear from Morningstar,” Munroe said. “When she finally goes through the bag I left behind she’ll find a bit of documentation that she doesn’t believe exists, and there’s also a prepaid phone and my number.” Heidi’s expression, full of joy and expectation, was as Munroe had anticipated, but she followed this with the news she’d no desire to deliver. “The other thing is that sooner or later you’ll probably hear things about your dad.”

Munroe paused, waited a beat, and continued. “I don’t want them to be a shock to you when you do.”

“What kind of things?” Heidi asked. Munroe didn’t answer, and when the silence became tangible, Heidi appeared to grasp the unspoken allegations.

“I’m not going to give you specifics,” Munroe said, “because I don’t have them. But you need to brace yourself for when they inevitably surface, okay?”

Heidi nodded, and was still silent, still processing, when the boys arrived. They both stopped short when Munroe turned to face them, Gideon’s reaction far more cautious than Logan’s. In response Munroe said, “Yeah, but you already saw the other guys.”

They sat, relaxed, and in order to allow Heidi time alone with her thoughts, Munroe repeated for Gideon and Logan most of what she’d already relayed. The boys, in turn, gave their version of events, and when playing catch-up was over and Munroe had thanked them for coming after her, she turned to Logan and said, “You’ve heard from Charity, right?”

He nodded. “I’ll be there to get her when her flight lands, and then we’ll head over to wherever you are.”

“Miles will get you the information,” Munroe said. And then, “Look, Logan, I know that all of this waiting is incredibly difficult for you, but when Charity gets here, I think it’s best that she meets with Hannah alone first—before the rest of you, okay?”

“It’ll just be me and Charity.”

“You’re part of the ‘rest of you,’ ” Munroe said, and when Logan began to protest she shook her head. There was no point in having this discussion in front of Gideon or Heidi—there were things Logan wouldn’t want discussed—and as frustrating as it would be that he was being forced to wait yet again, when all was said and done, he’d understand and perhaps even thank her for it.

Munroe turned to Gideon. “I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Alone?”

She shrugged. “It’s your call.”

He stood, and leaving Logan and Heidi to their individual silences, Munroe and Gideon stepped outside the restaurant to the carpeted elevator foyer.

“A deal’s a deal,” Munroe said. “Everything I told you I’d give you, I’ll give. The catch is that it’s all still in Buenos Aires. As soon as we get Charity and Hannah on their flight home, Miles and I are catching a charter back. You’re welcome to come along if you want, or I can deliver everything to you back in the States.”

Gideon was silent, as if he was truly weighing the options.

“I don’t need an answer right this second or anything,” she said, “just wanted to let you know where things stood.” She paused and then straightened, standing taller and closer. Her movements were subtle, meant not to intimidate but for emphasis.

“I’m not going to pressure you about what you’re up to,” she said. “That wasn’t part of the bargain, but it is within my rights to know. By giving you all of this information I become a participant in whatever it is you’re setting out to do.” She paused. “What is it you’re after, Gideon?”

Deliberating, he shifted back against the wall. “I’m looking for someone,” he said finally.

“Who?”

“A woman.”

The vagueness didn’t surprise her, but based on the story that Logan had told about Gideon’s past, the gender did.

“Who?” Munroe said again.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Gideon said, “and talking about it isn’t going to change anything.”

“I know a lot more than you think I do,” Munroe said. “Talking might change everything.”

Gideon was silent a long while, and Munroe didn’t rush him. She stood beside him, back to the wall, mirroring him breath for breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and tranquil. “When I was living in Argentina as a teenager,” he said, “it was a pretty rough time. A lot of stuff happened. I mean, you’ve read the documents, so you
know it wasn’t a picnic for anyone, but stuff happened to me that even the hard-core survivors have a difficult time believing.”

Gideon paused again, perhaps contemplating how far he would go with the explanation, and in response, Munroe remained quiet.