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“Have you had any luck locating Paul Everett?”
“We’re hoping for a breakthrough—soon,” Marc said, taking over. As planned, he was going to run the conversation.
“How can I help?”
“By telling us about Lyle Fenton.”
Cliff stiffened, visibly taken aback by the topic. “Lyle? What is it you want to know?”
“A great deal. We just came from his house.”
By now, Mercer was clearly on guard. “And?”
“And it wasn’t pleasant. Nor did we get very far. All we found out is that Paul Everett was aboard Fenton’s private yacht a short time before he disappeared.”
Mercer’s eyes widened. “You suspect Lyle of having something to do with Everett’s disappearance?”
“Do you?”
“No, of course not. Lyle Fenton is a friend of mine.”
“Yes, we know.” Marc just pushed right on. “He subsidized your campaign. And now he counts on you to help him out.”
This time, Mercer’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing that isn’t true. You’re in Fenton’s pocket. We know it. And frankly, we really don’t care. But you do.” Marc waved away Mercer’s oncoming protest. “Don’t bother denying it. We don’t want your head. We want leverage. We intend to use it to save a child.”
“What kind of leverage?” Mercer was starting to get angry.
“Anything you know about Fenton that might help us find Paul Everett. As I said, we don’t give a damn about nailing anyone to the wall. All we want is information.”
“So you’re blackmailing me.” Mercer stared from one of them to the other. “With what? The fact that I share the same goals for my district as Lyle Fenton, and that I use my influence in Congress to promote those goals? I think I just described every politician I know.”
“Except for the fact that, in your case, the reason you promote Fenton’s goals is because he’s your father.”
Mercer started as if he’d been struck, all the color draining from his face. He said absolutely nothing.
“We’re talking about a whole different level of scandal,” Marc continued. “So, before you answer, decide what’s most important to you.”
“Who else knows?” Mercer asked bluntly.
“We haven’t gone public. We don’t intend to—not unless you force our hand. Just tell us everything you can about Fenton, the people he associates with, any illegal activities he’s involved in—anything that might lead us to Paul Everett.”
Mercer blew out a weary breath. “I purposely separate myself from Lyle’s outside life. Frankly, I don’t want to know the answers you’re looking for, so I’m careful not to ask questions. Which means I have nothing to tell you. Does that mean you’re going to announce my paternity to the world?”
“No.” It was Claire who spoke up. “You don’t deserve that.”
Both Marc and Ryan turned to look at her.
“He’s telling the truth,” she said simply. “He’s weak and Fenton uses that to his advantage. He has a good idea what his biological father is capable of, but he divorces himself from it. So, as I said, he’s a weak man, but he’s not a bad man. Most important, he’s completely in the dark about what happened to Paul Everett or where he might be. We’d have nothing to gain by ruining his career. He can’t help us.” She rose. “Let’s go.”
Marc hesitated, then gave a tight nod. “You’re very lucky I have so much faith in my colleague, Congressman,” he said. “I wouldn’t be walking away so readily if she weren’t as certain as she is.”
“She’s right.” Mercer was visibly grateful and relieved. “I’ll turn a blind eye to a lot of things, but not to violence or murder. Plus, I’m a parent myself. I love my children. I’d never stand in the way of Amanda Gleason’s search for her baby’s father. Especially not under these circumstances.” He paused. “Do you really believe Lyle had something to do with Everett’s disappearance?”
“More and more, it’s looking that way, yes,” Marc replied.
“Then I’ll keep my ears open. If Lyle says or does anything that I think you should know, I’ll call you.”
