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“No phone calls, you said,” he muttered in accusation, then sent his chair speeding into the living room, rearranging his expression into something warmly benign.
Sloan acknowledged him with a distracted smile. His gaze narrowed on the pen between her fingers and the notepad on the sofa’s armrest, a half dozen notations scribbled along the top half. The handwriting was too small for him to make out what it said.
“Thanks. I will. Talk to you soon. Bye,” she said and hung up to give the fullness of her attention to Max. “I didn’t expect you home so soon.”
“My last appointment was canceled, so I took advantage of the chance to come home early,” Max replied, then allowed some of his curiosity to show. “Who was that on the phone? Yancy Haynes?”
“No, I haven’t heard from him today. That was my agent, Phil Westbrook. I called to tell him about Jake and give him this address and phone number so he could get in touch with me if something came up.”
“He has some assignments lined up for you, does he?” With a nod, Max indicated the notes she had jotted on the pad.
“A couple of possibilities for later this summer, if I’m interested, and he passed on messages for me from—” She never finished the sentence as a faint, hiccoughing cry came over the portable monitor on the end table. “Sounds like Jake just woke up.”
“In that case, you go look after your son while I go make a few business calls.” With a touch of the controls, Max reversed the wheelchair. “Join me in the den later, and we’ll have a drink before dinner.”
“Sounds good.” Pen and tablet in hand, she rose from the couch and turned in the direction of the nursery.
Sloan was halfway there before she realized the baby monitor was still on the end table. Deciding to check on Jake first and retrieve the monitor later, she continued down the hall. All was quiet when she entered the room. Moving softly, Sloan crossed to the crib. Peering over the side, she saw that Jake was asleep, his little lips moving in a sucking motion. She watched him, half-tempted to pick him up anyway, then thought better of it.
As quietly as she had entered the nursery, she left and retraced her path down the wide corridor. Within steps of the den she caught the sound of Max’s voice, forceful with anger.
In a reflexive action, she glanced toward the den and noticed the door was opened a crack. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to hear him.
“I know what I said. The situation has changed. I don’t care how you do it, but you’ve got to lure Calder into town within the next ten days.” Sloan came to a dead stop when she heard the name Calder. All thought of the baby monitor fled from her mind. “After that, I don’t particularly give a damn whether you plant the drugs on him or in his vehicle. I just want an arrest for drug possession on his record within ten days.”
Shock splintered through her. Even though he hadn’t mentioned Trey specifically, Sloan knew that was who Max was arranging to have framed for drug possession. The reason was obvious: to influence the judge against Trey at the custody hearing. She took a step toward the door, intending to stop this before it went any further. Then Max spoke again.
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Scorn was in his voice. “Once he’s been arrested for drug possession, it won’t take much to convince people he’s using. Look at how easily you convinced them he was having an affair. So what if nobody’s seen him high on anything. They never saw him with a woman, either, but they believed the story just the same.”
Her mind whirling with questions, Sloan stood motionless. What was he saying? That there wasn’t another woman? That it was no more true than the drugs he intended to plant on Trey? But the phone calls? Had they been fake, too? But why would Max do that? He had to have known it would cre
ate problems in her marriage? Or was that part of his plan?
She suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that Trey had been right all along. Max had engineered everything. And, like a fool, she had believed it. Anger swept through her that she could have been so gullible.
In agitation, Sloan turned away and faltered when Bennett entered the living room from a side hallway. There was an instant sharpening of his gaze at the sight of her, as if something in her expression had caught his attention.
“Is anything wrong, Mrs. Calder?”
Thinking on her feet, she searched for an answer that wouldn’t arouse his suspicion. “Yes, but I don’t think you can help me. I came back here for something, and now I can’t remember what it was. Of course!” she said, pretending to remember at that moment. “The baby monitor.”
Acting was a skill she had never needed to practice before. With all the insecurities of an amateur, Sloan strove to project an air of normalcy while she collected the monitor from the end table and retreated again to the hallway. Her nerves screamed with the certainty that Bennett had seen through her pretense. Yet she didn’t dare check his reaction.
Bennett studied her thoughtfully until she was out of sight. He resumed his original course and crossed to the den, noticed the door wasn’t tightly shut, and walked in.
“Was that Sloan’s voice I heard,” Max demanded the instant he appeared.
“Yes.”
“What was she doing out there?” Suspicion was sharp in his look.
“She left the baby monitor in the living room. She came back to get it.”
“Then she wasn’t listening at the door?”
“She didn’t appear to be,” Bennett replied.
A grunt was the only response.
