“The sex was never that great,” she admitted.
Bridget grinned. “You know, if I can be blunt, you’re far better off without him. I wasn’t the first, you know.”
Sadie feigned surprise. “Really?”
“Philip told me he started sleeping around just after you were married. The last time—before me, that is—was with someone close to him, he said. Another associate, I think. But he said it was a one-time thing, a mistake.”
Sadie thought of Latoya Jefferson, the young receptionist who had worked at the firm a few years ago. Philip had shown an unusual interest in her. When Sadie had questioned him, he’d shrugged it off, saying she was the daughter of a friend. Latoya left in a flurry of rumors of an affair with one of the partners.
She scowled.
Bridget noticed her expression. “In my defense, Philip can be quite charming when he wants to be. Plus, it was the only way to track down the money.”
“And did you?”
The woman nodded. “He left me in his office one day while he went to see Morris. I found some documents behind a picture of Sam. We’re in the process of tracing the funds. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to reroute them to a secure account. We’re talking millions.”
“So why am I here?”
“Because I needed to apologize, Sadie. And because you’re going to hear some nasty things during the trial.”
“If it goes to trial.”
Bridget’s eyes brightened. “Do you think he’ll accept a plea bargain?”
“I don’t know. Philip’s basically a…”
“Coward?”
“I see you know him very well.”
Bridget blushed. “We’re planning to pick him up next week. Oh, and don’t bother trying to post bail. He’s too much of a flight risk. He won’t be going anywhere.”
“And you don’t want me going anywhere either. Is that it?”
“We’re hoping to keep you out of it,” Bridget said. “By Philip’s admission, you had no knowledge of what he was doing. He kept you in the dark. We won’t need you to testify, but…”
“There’s always a but.”
Bridget sucked in a deep breath. “The press will be nasty on this one. They’ll call my involvement entrapment and turn your marriage into a farce.”
Sadie stood slowly. “Let them say what they will. I don’t plan on being around for long.”
“It’s probably a good idea to start over,” Bridget said. “Start a new life.”
Sadie paused in the doorway. “They’ll be right, you know.”
“What?”
“My marriage was a farce. But one good thing came from it.”
Bridget’s eyes were full of sympathy. “I hope they find Sam.”
“Me too.”
In the parking lot, Sadie sat in her car for almost fifteen minutes, letting the engine idle while she replayed the latest development. If anyone had told her that she’d have a rational, almost friendly, conversation with the woman her husband had been sleeping with, she would’ve laughed.
Irony was a strange bedfellow.
“We’re checking out some new leads,” Jay told her a few days later. “We’ve had to sort through calls from people claiming they’ve seen the man from your drawing. In the meantime, we need you to do an interview—a plea for Sam’s release.”
After lunch, she met him at the television station.
Philip was already there.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked Jay.
The detective gave him a tight smile. “We haven’t got anything to lose at this point.” When he saw Sadie cringe, he added, “If you make a personal plea to him, it could make him care more about Sam’s well-being.”
“If Sam’s still alive,” Philip muttered.
“He’s missing a finger and a toe,” Sadie cried. “That doesn’t mean he’s dead.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s alive either.”
Philip’s words enraged her.
“Shut up, Philip!” she shouted. “He’s alive! I know it!”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Jay sent Philip a hard stare, then turned to Sadie. “When you speak to The Fog, make sure you mention Sam’s name a lot. Make it personal, Sadie. Most abductors see their victims as impersonal objects, not human beings. Show him the sweet, playful side of Sam.”
“Do you think he might let Sam go?”
Jay’s mouth thinned and she saw his eyes cloud over.
“That’s not why you want me to make it personal, is it?” she said.
“Look, Sadie,” he said. “We just don’t want him to continue hurting Sam. We want him to think that his warnings have worked, that we’ll back off. Meanwhile, we’ll keep looking for him.”
In a blur of motion, someone clipped a tiny microphone to her collar and a receiver to the waistband of her slacks.
“We’ve drafted up a speech to help you,” Jay said, handing her a piece of paper.
She scanned the words, staring at them as if they were written in a foreign language. One word stood out clearly. Sam.
“We’re on in five,” the cameraman said, counting down.
There was a sour taste in her mouth.
Reporter Lance MacDonald introduced her.
Then time stood still.
She faced the camera, her mouth sandpaper dry, her tongue limp. What do I say to a kidnapper, a man I let take my son?
She read the notes that Jay had so carefully prepared.
“I want to ask you for the safe return of our son, Samuel James Tymchuk. Samuel—Sam—is our… my…” Lost in grief, she couldn’t get the words out.
Behind her, Philip hissed, “Jesus! Keep going!”
“S-Sam is only six and he’s…”
Her eyes welled with tears and the words before her blurred.
She tried again. “Sam is six and…”
Why was she reading someone else’s words?
Crumpling the paper, she stared into the camera.
“Sam is my son. He’s six years old and very smart, even though he doesn’t talk. He loves to read and draw. He’s a sweet, sweet boy—my baby—and I love him more than anything. I beg you… please return him to me.” She hitched in a breath. “I apologize that my drawing of you got out. I’m sorry I ever drew it. But I was not responsible for releasing it to the police. Neither was Sam. He’s innocent in all this and I know you don’t want to hurt him. I’ll give you money, time to disappear, whatever you need.”
She caught sight of Jay’s grim expression. He shook his head, but she continued. “If you give me back my son, give me Sam, I’ll make sure you walk away. You know how to reach me. Call me. This can be between you and me. Just don’t hurt Sam.” She choked back a sob. “Please—”
Philip shoved her aside. “Listen, you sick freak! Give us back our son! Only a fucking coward would—”
Sadie watched in horror as Jay grabbed Philip and hurled him against the wall. Even the reporter flinched. The cameraman had the decency to turn the camera away and the crew stepped back.
“You stupid ass!” Jay hissed between gritted teeth. “What are you trying to do, get your son killed?”
“Of course not!”
Sadie clenched Philip’s arm. “If you’ve done anything to hurt Sam—”
“Me? What about you?” He shook a finger at her. “You’re the one who let him take Sam, for Christ’s sake.”
“You weren’t there!” she screamed, unleashing her fury. “He was going to shoot Sam, right in front of me. I had no choice!”
“You should’ve tried!” he yelled back. “You should’ve done more!”
She gave him a frosty look. “I will always wonder if I could have done more, Philip. I live with that every day.”
That night, she saw her face plastered on all the local news stations. She called Jay just before ten.