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She’d come away from the negotiations with a heck of a lot – his wedding ring and his name – but the key thing she craved was still not hers – a child to call her own.


Melanie blinked. She would not fret. A baby would come soon enough, hopefully earlier rather than later. Right now she needed to focus on the issue at hand. Sloane had said they needed to talk, not tonight at home, but before the work day ended. It was critical if they were to save her film division. That got her immediate attention and she cancelled her ad agency meeting and sped over to his office. The meeting with Sloane took priority over everything else.


Melanie was not surprised when she walked into her husband’s office and he waved her over to the couch and began to pace the room. She’d come to know by now that this was how he did his best thinking.


“We’ve got the evidence we need,” he said, “but we have to move cautiously. There’s no way I want this guy to disappear before the police can slap handcuffs on him. Where’s Palmer now?”


“I left him in a financial planning meeting. Those things go on for hours. He’s not going anywhere for a while.”


“Good. Here is what I have in mind…”


By the time Sloane finished speaking they had a plan in place, one in which Melanie would have to employ shock tactics to get Trent Palmer to confess. She was to call him into her private office and confront him with her knowledge of the scheme. Hopefully, he would become so flustered that he would quake under her questioning and divulge incriminating information about himself and his dealings with Zena, the mastermind. Unbeknownst to him, she would be recording the entire conversation.


“But what if he doesn’t crack?” Melanie asked. Sloane seemed so confident that the plan would work. She, however, wasn’t so sure.


“Offer him something he can’t refuse,” he countered. “He seems like the kind you can bait with a good carrot.”


“Meaning?”


“Tell him if he comes clean you won’t press charges.”


“Won’t press…that doesn’t even make any sense. The man let that…Zena bitch…practically ruin a whole division of my company.” Melanie shot Sloane a look that said he’d really messed up on that one. There was no way in hell she was going to let Trent Palmer go scot-free.


Sloane tightened his lips, nodding, as his eyes grew thoughtful. “You’re right. I guess I was so intent on bringing Zena down that I lost sight of the enormity of the situation and this guy's role in it.” For a moment he looked away then his eyes honed in on her. “Let Trent Palmer know that if he doesn’t come clean we won’t even consider a plea bargain. And trust me, his lawyer will come knocking.” He folded his arms across his chest. “If he talks we can consider leniency for cooperation.”


“Well, maybe.” She spoke the words grudgingly but she was willing to consider that…but not for Zena. That one was going down.


Sloane put a hand on her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked, his gray eyes concerned as they skimmed her face.


She nodded. “I just want to get this over and done with so I can move on.”


“I understand.” His voice was heavy and Melanie could tell that although this was her problem, he really cared. “Come on, let’s go.”


She stared at him as he shrugged into his jacket. “You’re coming with me?”


He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You thought I’d let you face this man alone?”


“But what if your presence tips him off?”


“By the time he comes into your office it will be too late for him to run anywhere. He’ll have no choice but to talk.”


“Or else what?” she challenged, giving him a teasing grin.


“Or else he’ll have a very irate husband to answer to.” Sloane gave her a playful chuck under the chin. “Now let’s go before that meeting ends and he disappears.”


Melanie took his hand and stood up beside Sloane and in his grasp was a firmness and strength that gave her a sudden surge of confidence.


She was a feminist in her own way – a strong, independent businesswoman – but it felt good to know that she had a man like Sloane in her life. It made fighting a battle like this one so much easier. And, for that, and the fact that she’d been blessed with a caring husband, she was truly grateful.


***


Sloane put his arm around Melanie’s shoulder as she spoke, her voice clear, her eyes never wavering from the officer’s face. And he was proud of her.


It had been a harrowing twenty minutes in her office, with Palmer looking like he wanted to bolt any minute, but with Sloane in the room, leaning against the door that represented his only possible exit, he had no option but to keep his plump backside in the chair and sweat through Melanie’s interrogation.


Of course, he had no idea his confession was being recorded but in the end that was extraneous because Sloane was right there in the room with them, a perfect witness, listening to every word.


Palmer blamed Zena, he blamed his wife who had pressed him into a shaky investment scheme that crashed, he blamed everybody but himself.


But in the end it didn’t matter who he blamed. He was guilty as sin and he would be made to pay. The only thing was, Sloane wanted to make sure he dragged Zena down with him.


In the end, he needn’t have concerned himself. Once he realized there was no way out the man was more than eager to talk and he was out to protect no-one, not if blabbing his mouth meant less jail time. He told them everything, from the day Zena called him out of the blue and arranged for a lunch meeting, to the story she’d given him about the rosy prospects of her cousin's film company, to his hesitation after reviewing the paperwork, and then to his capitulation when she’d offered him the hefty cash incentive.


“You threw me under the bus, Trent.” Melanie’s eyes flashed as she held him with her glare and even when he bowed his head in shame she did not let up. “You were my right hand. I trusted you.” Then her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “I trusted you way too much. I let you have free reign to make major decisions because I had faith in you, in your loyalty and your competency. Look where it got me.”


When Palmer left the office he was a shell of the man who had walked in. But that was his problem. As soon as they saw the back of him Sloane jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s head down to the station and get this reported immediately.”


He didn’t have to say it twice. Melanie was out the door and marching down the hallway before the words were all out, her mouth set in a determined line, her back straight. It was obvious she meant business.


And now, without so much as a tremble of the lips, she was recounting the tale to Officer Sutherland, leaving no detail out. Sloane had expected a show of emotion, possibly even tears, but the woman, his brave little wife, was handling things like she made police reports about rogue employees every day.


Still, when they finally left the station two hours later, Sloane could see that she was drained. He gathered her to him, letting her lean against him as they walked back to his car, then he bundled her into the passenger’s seat and buckled her in, just like you would a little kid.


And that was what she looked like now, so different from the woman who had spent the afternoon bullying a man three times her size. Now she was fragile and vulnerable and all he wanted was for her to know that everything would be all right.


When Sloane pulled out of the parking lot the sun was beginning to set behind the hills. He looked over at Melanie but her head was back against the rest, her eyes closed. He reached over with one hand to pat her leg. “It will all work out,” he said quietly. “They’ll pick Zena up before she leaves the country. Even if Palmer called her right after he left your office there's no way she could have boarded an international flight and skipped town. The police alerted the airport as soon as we tipped them off.”


Melanie’s eyes were open now and she gave him a tired smile. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m just doing an internal strategy session on how to pick up the pieces. Whatever happens to them, my film division is still in shambles.”


"I’ve been thinking about that,” Sloane said as he stroked her leg, his eyes never leaving the road, “and I want my team to do an assessment of what can be salvaged of this Rapid Films operation.”


She threw him a puzzled glance. “Why?”


“I’m thinking, if it’s got anything worthwhile, I can buy it from you.”


She dropped her hand on top of his and pushed it off her leg. “Buy it from me?” she snapped. “Do you think I’m some damsel in distress that you have to save? I’m a business leader, Sloane, a CEO who grew her portfolio to over a billion dollars. I don’t need you to rescue me.”


Her reaction took him by surprise. Relief, he’d expected. Even gratitude. But anger?

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