He hung up the phone, pleased. Patton was following his orders without question. Finally. The man was also acquiring manners. It was about time.
A soft knock on his door had him looking up. And then smiling. His daughter-in-law stood in the doorway, her blond hair shining like gold in the light coming through the porthole window. ‘Margo. What can I do for you?’
She didn’t smile back. In fact, she looked very worried. ‘I got a call from the babysitter. Benny is running a slight temperature, just a degree.’
He straightened. ‘He was fine last night!’
‘Yes, he was, but sometimes babies get fevers. He could simply be teething. But I’d like to go home, if it’s all right. I can take care of your to-do list from home if you grant me remote access to the office network.’
‘Of course.’ He had to tell himself not to panic, that she was right, that all babies got fevers sometimes. ‘Should we take him to the doctor?’
‘No, Papa. But if this continues, I promise I’ll take him in.’
‘Of course you will,’ he murmured. It was just that the thought of losing Benny . . . The boy was all he had left of his son. ‘Call me and let me know how he’s doing.’
‘Of course I will.’
He frowned at her, because she looked a lot more worried than was warranted by a teething toddler. ‘What are you not telling me?’
She drew a breath. ‘You’re not going to like it.’
He forced himself to remain calm. ‘It’s not just a teething fever, is it?’
‘Yes! It really is. Benny will be fine. This is something else.’
‘That I will not like.’
‘Right.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘You remember Bernice Brown?’
‘Yes. That was only two days ago, Margo. I’ve not become forgetful in my dotage,’ he added, his lightly mocking tone carrying a definitive warning. Just because she was his daughter-in-law and the mother of his grandson didn’t mean she could treat him with disrespect.
She blushed, embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.’
‘Good. So. Bernice Brown? The woman who supposedly called Thorne to lure him out of his home on Saturday night.’ It would have been far simpler to attack him in his home. Except getting into his home had proven difficult. The man had an excellent security system. So they’d decided that luring him out was more effective.
‘Yes, her. Well, one of the things we did before using her name was to find her and make sure she couldn’t tell anyone that she hadn’t made the call.’
‘Exactly. Patton located her and eliminated her.’
She winced. ‘Well, he thought he had.’
He came to his feet, his fury white-hot. ‘What? What do you mean?’
‘He set fire to the trailer she was living in. Or so he thought. But she’d moved, and the trailer he burned wasn’t hers. She and her cousin had relocated to a new park. It wasn’t Patton’s fault,’ she added quickly. ‘He contacted her best friend, posing as a cop. She gave him the address, but it turned out it was the wrong one.’
‘And how do you know this?’ he asked coldly.
‘Because we have eyes on Thorne’s nightclub, and the friend – Sally Brewster – met with one of Thorne’s attorneys this morning. I don’t know what they discussed, but I was concerned that they’d connected at all. I checked the victims of Patton’s fire. They were not Bernice Brown and her cousin. The occupants were a professor on sabbatical and her husband. They’d just arrived at the park.’
He lowered himself back to his chair. ‘I see.’
Her eyes were wide and full of entreaty. ‘Please, Papa, if you’re going to blame anyone, blame me. Patton thought he was doing the right thing. I should have visited and made sure it was the right address.’
He nodded slowly. ‘It was an honest mistake,’ he said stiffly. Mistakes happened. He’d even made one or two himself. Million, he added bitterly. ‘Does Patton know of his mistake?’
‘Yes.’ She hesitated. ‘I just told him. He is understandably concerned about your reaction.’
As he should be. ‘All right.’ He quickly considered his options. He could eliminate Patton and move to the next person in his organization. He’d reminded Patton of the cost of failure just hours before. It was reasonable to believe that the man would be even more vigilant – and obedient – from here on out.
‘What would you do?’ he asked Margo, curious to know her thoughts. She might sit behind this desk someday. It was time to begin her training.
She bit her lip. ‘I think mercy in this situation would create an even more loyal employee. I like Patton. He’s smart and ambitious. I think he’s keen to take on more responsibility. I’d leave him in place. He’ll work harder to please you.’
‘My thoughts exactly. You mentioned that Mrs Brown’s friend met with one of Thorne’s attorneys. Which one?’
‘Frederick Dawson. He’s new to Thorne’s firm, recently relocated from California.’
His brows lifted, the name all too familiar. ‘Dawson?’
She nodded, immediately understanding his question. ‘He’s related to the woman who was involved in the Jarvis case. Dawson’s daughter, Taylor, was providing equine therapy to Jarvis’s daughter, Jazzie.’
Because the child had seen her mother murdered. Jarvis had tried to murder the therapist, but Taylor Dawson had shot back, wounding him. That had been the moment his relationship with Jarvis had ended. Unfortunately, not before he’d been linked to the despicable man. By Thomas Thorne, of course. Thorne had provided photographic proof to the police that Jarvis had dined with him in his favorite Italian restaurant.
He’d been furious at the time. He still was. But his confusion over how Thorne had obtained that photograph had led him to an investigation of all of his employees, which had revealed Ramirez to have been the traitor. Now Ramirez was dead. But it had given the police cause to watch him. He’d had to be careful where and when he appeared in public ever since. He always had a tail he needed to lose.
It was the reason he now did business on his yacht. The police didn’t know of its existence, so he was left free to conduct himself as he saw fit.
That anyone connected to the disaster of the Jarvis case was now poking around in his business was extremely annoying.
‘Do we know where to find Mr Dawson?’ he asked, his tone clipped.
‘I’m sure I can find out.’
‘Please do. You may do that from home, once you’re certain that Benny is all right. Go now. Call me if he worsens.’
She nodded once. ‘I will. I’ll send you Dawson’s address and I’ll keep you updated.’ She closed the door behind her as she left.
Margo was a good mother. He should trust her. Still, he’d have his personal physician look in on the baby this afternoon. Because she should have checked the address before Patton torched a perfectly good trailer. He’d be second-guessing her decisions for the foreseeable future, but she had a good head on her shoulders. She’d make a worthy successor, given the proper training.
She was young. They had lots of time.
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 13 June, 12.45 P.M.
This is all my fault. All my damn fucking fault. Thorne paced back and forth in the small ER cubicle. The beds here were separated only by curtains, unlike the hospital where he’d been taken yesterday, where there were rooms with physical walls. And doors.
That could stop bullets. Or at least slow them down. He gave the curtain a smack and a curse. Which was met with an aggravated sigh from the woman sitting on the bed.
‘Thorne, stop it,’ Gwyn snapped. ‘You’re driving me nuts. It’s going to make my blood pressure go up and they won’t let me fucking leave.’ She drew in a breath that flared her nostrils. ‘Come here. Now.’
Grudgingly he obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed when she patted it. ‘Jamie and Phil are in that cubicle right next to us, and Phil’s health might depend on you staying calm. Okay?’