Falling For The Enemy

Hanging up, he slowly shook his head. Why the hell couldn’t she have just gone along with them? Done what he’d asked and said a change of scenery would benefit Billy’s mental health?

It wouldn’t have made Armstrong approve the application. They’d known he wouldn’t do that. But if Hayley Morgan had simply said what they’d wanted her to, she’d have given them the perfect ammunition to go straight to the governor’s office and make a case there about getting Billy out of Poquette on the cruel-and-unusual-punishment angle. Since this was an election year and the governor counted on the support, or at least the noninterference, of the Irish Mafia, Billy would have been on his way to another prison in no time.

Now, though... Sloan knew only too well what Billy would say now.

It would take a while to arrange everything, probably till the start of next week, but he’d want the wheels set in motion as soon as possible.

Sloan glanced at his watch, aware that he had to talk to Billy just as soon as he could. Maybe he could convince him to try another tack. But if he couldn’t...

If the man was determined to proceed with plan B, with or without Sloan’s help, then Sloan’s only option would be to stay closely involved. Give Billy suggestions and hope to hell he took them. Otherwise, things could get awfully bad. For Morgan and for her son.

“DON’T FORGET THE RULES,” Mrs. Kelly reminded Max from behind the screen door.

“I won’t,” he told her.

She was nice, ’cept that every Monday she always talked about the rules. He’d told his mom he didn’t like that, but she said Mrs. Kelly was just afraid he’d forgotten them over the weekend.

He never did, though. So she didn’t have to keep tellin’ him over and over. And she always had the same look his mom did, the look that warned if he broke them he’d be in big, big trouble.

“Only ride on the sidewalk,” she said. “And don’t go off the block.”

“I know. I’m just goin’ to see if any kids are out playin’.”

Pushing off, wobbling a little until he got going, he headed toward the end of the street, watching real good while he passed the house where King lived. Sometimes he was out on the porch, and Jimmy’s mom said that dog was born to chase bikes.

He was born to chase cats, too.

His own mom said that Satchmo probably only had about three of his nine lives left ’cuz of King.

“Yes!” he whispered as he reached the far side of the yard. Now he was into what he and Jimmy called “the safe zone.” There were no more big dogs for the rest of the block.

But there were no kids out playing, either. Disappointed, Max stopped in front of the last house, wishing that Jimmy and his family hadn’t gone on their car trip. The summer wasn’t half as much fun when your best friend was away.

But Mom had circled on the calendar when he’d be back, and Max was marking off the days, so he knew Jimmy would be home soon. Then—

“Max? Max Morgan?”

Startled, he looked toward the curb. The man who’d called his name was in a car with another man. He didn’t think he’d ever seen either of them before.

Never talk to strangers. That was one of the serious rules.

“You are Max, aren’t you?”

He nodded. That wasn’t talking.

“Good, because your mother asked us to pick you up for her. But when we went to Mrs. Kelly’s and she told us you were out riding your bike, we didn’t know if we’d be able to find you.”

Max looked back the way he’d come, surprised they’d had enough time to talk to Mrs. Kelly.

The man who wasn’t driving got out and opened the back door. “Hop in. I’ll put your bike in the trunk.”

“I can’t,” Max said, feeling kinda scared.

The men hadn’t said the secret word, and if Mom wanted him to go with them she’d have told them it. She always said he should never go anywhere with anyone he didn’t know unless they told him the secret word.

“Max, it’s okay. Your mom’s getting off work early and she wants to take you someplace straight from her office. We’re not supposed to tell you where ’cuz it’s a surprise, but it’s a place you really like.”

He scratched his arm, thinking it might be the zoo. That was his favorite place, and the white alligators were his favorite things to see.

“Come on,” the man who’d gotten out of the car said with a smile.

Maybe they just forgot. “You have to say the secret word first,” he told them. “I can’t go unless you do.”

The man standing outside looked at the one driving. “Uh...Max,” he said. “We didn’t want to frighten you by telling you this, but your mom fell on some stairs and hurt her leg. She’s okay,” he added quickly. “But she had to go to a hospital and get checked over, so I guess in all the excitement she just wasn’t thinking about the secret word.

“She wanted us to drive you to the hospital, though. ’Cuz she’s going to take you out for dinner after she’s done there. And it’s really okay to come with us. We’re cops.”

“Detectives,” the other one said. “That’s why we aren’t wearing uniforms.”

He didn’t want to cry, but his eyes started to sting and tears began rolling down his cheeks. What if his mom was hurt worse than they were telling him?

“Come on, Max. When we get to the hospital you’ll see for yourself that she’s just fine.”

SLOAN STOOD in the lobby of the Orleans Parish state government building, waiting for O’Rourke’s call and assuring himself that nothing could have gone wrong.

Watching the sitter’s house for a few days last week had told them Max Morgan was a child of habit. Every day right after lunch he hit the street on his bike. So it was merely a matter of picking him up without anyone noticing.

But what if something had gone wrong? Despite the air-conditioning, that possibility was enough to start him sweating.

Both O’Rourke and Sammy were family men, though. And he’d suggested that Billy choose them for the job because he’d figured neither would ever harm a six-year-old. Just as he was reminding himself of that, his cell phone rang.

“Sloan Reeves,” he answered.

“Got him,” O’Rourke said. “No problems.”

“And he’s okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. But he ain’t a happy camper.”

Sloan exhaled slowly, not wanting to even think about how frightened the boy must be. “Do your best to reassure him, huh? And tell him his mom’s going to phone him soon.”

“Sure.”

He just hoped that Hayley Morgan was in her office. Otherwise, soon might not be possible. “You’re being careful not to use your real names?”

“Yeah, of course. Sammy’s ‘Tom’ and I’m ‘Dick.’ Like the Smothers Brothers. How’re we gonna forget that?”

He hadn’t figured either O’Rourke or Sammy was old enough to remember the sixties folk-song duo. He barely was himself. But since they did, it should help them keep from slipping up.