“According to Chase, he’ll play hell getting Judge Abrams to give more than two or three days,” Laredo replied. “Which reminds me, Jessy has Walters and his men digging to see what they can learn about Sloan, on the off chance there might be something damaging.”
“I’m not going to hold my breath that they’ll find anything. Rutledge would have made sure of that first.” Trey paused to mused, “You’ve got to hand it to her, though. She had me fooled completely.”
“At the start, she had us all fooled.”
Trey found little consolation in Laredo’s reply. A part of him still had trouble believing that it had been a lie from the beginning.
Rain pelted the Maresco building as ominous dark clouds rolled across the Greater Fort Worth area, spitting lightning and issuing rumbles of thunder. Oblivious to the spring storm raging outside, Max Rutledge tightened his grip on the telephone.
“What the hell do you mean you could only get it postponed two days?” he exploded. “I thought you said you could put it off at least two weeks.”
“I thought I could, but the judge refused. Two days was all he would grant. And to get that I had to provide him with a host of affidavits. Short of an act of God or an illness of the child, the date’s set in concrete.”
“Get the judge excused, then,” Max refused to accept that nothing could be done.
“I tried that. We’re stuck with this one, at least for this first hearing. We both know there will be more.”
Max seized on the one opening the attorney had offered. “But if a doctor declared the child was too—”
“Careful of going down that road, Rutledge,” Yancy Haynes warned. “You’ll have the social worker out to verify it—and probably seek a second opinion. Unless that baby really is ill, it would only create more problems and alienate the judge more than he already is.”
“Then you’d better make damned sure Sloan leaves with that baby in her arms,” Max warned and slammed the phone down.
A loud clap of thunder reverberated through the building. Its loudness finally gained Max’s attention. He hurled an impatient glass at the rain-sheeted windows and punched the intercom.
“Yes, Mr. Rutledge.”
“Find out how soon this storm will pass.”
“Yes sir. And your three-thirty appointment is here. Shall I send them in?”
“That would be Musgrave and his cronies,” Max recalled. “Go ahead and show them in, then cancel the rest of my appointments for this afternoon.”
An hour later the severe storm cell moved east, but flying conditions remained marginal, leaving Max with no choice but to return to the ranch by car, more than doubling his travel time.
Chafing at the delay, twice he reached for the car phone. Each time Max checked the impulse, reminding himself that a mobile phone was not secure. And he was too close to success to take such a risk now.
Alerted by the security guards at the gate, Harold Bennett was outside waiting for him when Max’s car pulled beneath the portico. He had the wheelchair out of the trunk and ready for him by the time the chauffeur opened the rear door. Years of experience made the transfer from the car to the wheelchair a smooth, single action with never a falter along the way.
The instant he was settled in chair, Max demanded, “How did the day go?”
Bennett did not mistake it as an idle question, aware that his employer expected a full accounting of Sloan’s activity in his absence, no matter how mundane. “Mrs. Calder took the baby for a short walk in his stroller this morning, then exercised in the pool for nearly an hour.”
“Did she speak to anyone on her walk?”
“Only myself, sir, and that was mostly to comment on what a beautiful day it was. Of course, that was in the morning before storm arrived. Although she did mention that she wished she had the camera equipment that she left behind. She talked about a portfolio, too. Seemed very concerned getting it back.”
Max nodded. “She would be worried about that more than the rest of the things she left. I’ll have the attorney see that Calder returns it. In the meantime, find out what kind of camera equipment she’s talking about and see that she gets it.” He rolled his chair to the ramp. “What about this afternoon?”
“She lay down for a short nap once the baby was asleep, then listened to some music and read a little. All in all, it was a quiet afternoon, unless you include all the thunder and lightning,” Bennett replied.
“But no phone calls?”
“She received none and made none.”
“I thought Haynes might have contacted her.” Max murmured and halted his wheelchair to wait for Bennett to open the front door.
He had barely glided into large foyer when he caught the sound of Sloan’s voice coming from the living room. He whipped his chair around in that direction and spied Sloan sitting on the couch talking on the phone. He fired a piercing look at Bennett.