He remained in his car.
Reason was telling him that Dalton’s agency was run by the U.S. government. They wouldn’t harm his daughter. But experience dictated that the agent himself was completely untrustworthy and capable of doing anything.
Blair didn’t know what he should say. Mandy wasn’t stupid. She would pick out any lies he tried to tell in a heartbeat. His only course, he decided, would be to walk the thin line between fact and fiction.
He stepped out of his car. The clouds were darkening, the breeze picking up.
“What’s wrong?” Mandy asked as he approached. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Can I talk to you?”
She indicated her boyfriend. “You can talk in front of Frank.”
“No. I mean in private, Mandy.”
She hesitated. Then she followed him back along the driveway until they reached the curb. “What is it?” she asked angrily.
“I just spoke to a friend of mine,” he said, without a clue where the story was coming from. “The guy’s a cop. Sandra’s okay. But she has to stay under his protection. The police are concerned that Sandra could be used as bait, to draw me out. But you mustn’t discuss this with anyone. Especially not with Frank.”
“Why not?”
“Because it could compromise our daughter’s safety. I’m just following orders here, Mandy.”
“How long will they have to keep her?”
“I don’t know. Until the threat against me is nullified. Maybe a week or two at the most.”
“A week or two?”
“Maybe less,” he quickly said. His lies were becoming second nature to him.
“Can I see her, then?”
“Uh-uh. It would be too dangerous.”
“But, I’m her mother! What’s the name of this police friend of yours? I want to talk to him.”
“Mandy, don’t make this worse. You don’t want to put Sandra’s life in jeopardy, do you?”
“I have a right to see my own daughter!”
“You can’t. Just be cool for now. Okay? I’ll try to find out more.”
It began to drizzle. Still, Mandy seemed hesitant to seek shelter. “Why do I have the feeling I’m being manipulated?” she asked.
“It’s raining,” Blair said, hoping for a reprieve.
“I don’t care about the damn rain! I want to know what you’re not telling me!”
Blair wished this charade could end. “I’ve told you everything I know. You’ve got to trust me.”
“I’ll give you one week,” she said. “Not a day longer.”
“What are you talking about? I already mentioned how long this could take.”
“One week, Blair,” she said. And she walked away.
He waited for her to reach the house. He watched her lips to see if she was already relating their discussion to her boyfriend.
It was impossible to tell.
He got in his car and slowly backed out of the driveway.
A few blocks later, still in a residential area, he pulled over to the curb. He needed to think. But the confined space felt restrictive. He opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk.
A car came to a quick stop behind him. Before he could move, the driver rushed out and confronted him. “Mr. Mulligan,” he said, “John Dalton would like to have that meeting with you now.”
Blair waited.
The man moved in and put an arm on his shoulder.
He shook it loose.
Unfortunately, the one man became three, each massive, incongruously wearing a suit and tie.
“Mr. Mulligan,” the same man repeated. He tried to guide him toward the car.
At first, Blair didn’t resist. But then something snapped. His daughter had been taken hostage. These were obviously the men responsible. His brain shut down and a feral instinct took over. He fought even though he wasn’t a fighter. And he wanted to give as much as he got. Even as his nose was flattened, making it difficult to breathe. Even as a tooth rattled in his mouth, causing him to spit blood.
He continued to flail away, until a punch connected with the side of his head.
Images began to blur … and he descended into darkness.