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“Better accommodations,” Terrance repeated, “and that would mean a bigger cell. Maybe one with a bigger window? A little more time outside. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d like to see my son.”
Right. But your son doesn’t want to see you. Not that Terrance could blame the man. In all the years that Henry had been locked away, Midas hadn’t visited him even one time.
Henry focused on his lawyer. “Did you give Midas the twenty-four hour timeline?”
Sweat trickled down Xander’s left temple. It wasn’t even particularly warm in that room. “He’s…working with a client.”
“So?”
“So he can’t make the trip here right now,” Terrance informed Henry.
Henry’s head turned—snake-like—toward him. “He can let someone else watch the client.”
“No.” A quick rush of breath from Xander. “Midas said the client had been abducted once. He wanted to stay close.”
Because Terrance was watching Henry so closely, he caught the faintest of smiles that tipped up the other man’s lips. A smile that came and vanished in a blink.
But that momentary smile was enough to have every one of Terrance’s alarm bells ringing.
“Forty-eight hours,” Henry murmured. “In the interest of cooperating. I’ll let my son get his client settled…or perhaps…” A roll of his broad shoulders. “Midas should just bring her with him.”
Terrance did not let his mask falter. But Henry had just made a mistake. No one mentioned that the client was a woman. So how had Henry known that fact?
“Forty-eight hours.” Henry inclined his head. “And then my memory might just become cloudy. I’d hate for that to happen.” He made a tsk-tsk sound. “So unfortunate for those looking for their lost loved ones.” His gaze pinned Terrance. “So unfortunate for you. How will you get your face on cameras again if you don’t have big news from the monster you locked away?”
Anger hummed through Terrance. “I don’t do this job for the cameras.” He wasn’t some smart-ass kid looking to make a name for himself. Years had passed. The job was his life. The victims mattered. Every person mattered.
Henry folded his hands together. “Tell my son that I will reveal the location of my first victim. My very first.” A soft sigh escaped him. “But the offer will not last forever. Forty-eight hours is all he’ll get.”
He hated the bastard sitting across from him. “Why the hell should Midas care whether it’s the first vic or the last?” Terrance snarled. “The man doesn’t want to see you. You can’t yank on his strings like some puppeteer. I am offering you better accommodations. I will allow more privileges.” He didn’t want to give this psycho shit. But that wasn’t the way the system worked.
“He’ll care.” Henry was smug. “He’s always cared about her.”
Terrance’s stomach twisted.
***
Midas had locked down. Alina slanted him a quick glance from the corner of her eye. They’d both showered. Dressed. She’d winced when she’d seen her own reflection in the mirror. The bruise along her jaw was much darker, and she’d done her best to disguise it with makeup.
Not a perfect job.
But, better.
She’d put fresh bandages around the marks on her wrists and ankles. She wasn’t bleeding any longer so she could probably ditch the bandages soon. The marks were so red and dark. Each time she looked at them, she seemed to jump right back into the closet.
So don’t look at them.
She’d deliberately picked a top with long sleeves that dipped past her wrists.
They’d had a quick breakfast—well, lunch. Midas had barely spoken during the meal. He’d barely even glanced her way. Meanwhile, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him.
A cloud of menace and darkness seemed to cling to him. Ever since that phone call, his face had been set in heavy lines. She could feel the anger pouring from him.
His father is a serial killer? Not like that was an easy burden to carry. “Midas, I—”
Someone knocked at the front door.
