This is an interesting turn of events, Mason thought as he took the last few steps toward Evie’s apartment. Now that he’d secured an ounce of power with her son, Alison would have no choice but to hand over Evie. It wouldn’t be the end of their problems—not by a long shot—but it was a start.
When he got to the door, a panic-stricken Diane pulled it open.
“Come in,” she said, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple. “Quick.”
What the hell? Mason followed her in and closed the door behind him, immediately noticing the boy’s absence. “Where’s Luke?”
“That’s the problem.” Diane wrung her hands together and went to the window. “He’s out on the roof and refuses to come back in.”
“What the hell’s he doing out there?” Mason rushed to the open window and poked his head through, looking left and then right. Diane hadn’t exaggerated—Luke was sitting on the tiles near the edge of the roof. Only his foot wedged against the guttering held him in place.
“I tried to get him back inside, but he’s frightened,” Diane said from behind.
“Of falling?”
“Of going back to his mom.”
Mason wondered what kind of relationship those two shared. Maybe sending him back was not the best idea. No child deserved to be brought up around psychopathic killers and prostitutes. But he couldn’t let him die, either. “Luke, this is silly, buddy.”
Luke looked at Mason with bloodshot eyes. “Please don’t make me go back to her.”
“I won’t,” Mason lied. “Just come back inside.”
“No. You’ll take me back there.”
Mason took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. Next he removed his coat.
“What’re you doing?” Diane asked, her forehead creasing up.
“I’m going out there.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Thanks. Hold this.” He draped his coat over her arm and climbed through the open window.
“No!” Luke screamed, drawing attention from people on the street below. “Don’t drag me back in there. I said I don’t want to go. You can’t make me go!”
“Easy, cowboy.” Mason moved slowly. “Nobody’s making you go anywhere. We’re just going to talk, okay?” He turned and sat on the tiles, worried they might not hold his weight. He gazed out across the skyline to avoid looking down.
“She’s…” Luke settled back down. “She isn’t a nice lady.”
“No?”
“Not like Diane. She’s really kind.”
Mason lowered his guard and looked down. Feeling queasy, he looked away. “Yes, she is. She’s also very good at puzzles. Do you like puzzles?”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know any.”
“You don’t? What about riddles?” This was a technique he’d been taught on a course once. If you could distract from the real problem, you can then talk them into something reasonable. Mason hoped it would work.
“I know one.”
“Yeah? Tell me.”
“What gets wet as it dries?”
Mason knew the answer but wanted to see the boy’s face when he felt as though he’d bamboozled someone. “A boat? Something like that?”
“No.” Luke laughed, the frown replaced by a gap-toothed smile. “A towel!”
“Ahh.” Mason smiled now, surprised it wasn’t at all forced. “Very clever, kid. Very clever. So, look, why don’t we go inside and have something to eat? You can tell me some more riddles, and we can relax.”
Luke looked down. “Will you make me go back there?”
“I won’t make you do anything.”
“Then… okay.”
“Good boy.”
Mason got to his feet in a low crouch, balancing on the tiles. As he reached out for Luke’s hand, a tile gave way, sliding down the roof and plummeting to the street below. Luke lost his balance, clawing and scrambling to regain it. But that only made things worse. More and more tiles slipped out from under him, and in the blink of an eye, he was falling.