Rebecca York: Betrayed

Elena felt Gallagher stiffen, pretty sure he didn’t much like the scrutiny, either. As he eased away from her, she reached out a hand to steady herself against the sink and realized with a start that she and the two security men were standing in the ladies’ room. Truly, she didn’t even remember coming in here.

“Elena had some blood spatter. We were cleaning her up, and she got a little shaky,” Gallagher said.

“Yeah,” Iverson answered. He flicked his gaze to the front of her blouse, then back to the security chief. “I thought you were going to get killed, bursting in there like that. I mean, dangling outside the window and then crashing through with those steel-tipped boots. And your bulletproof vest wouldn’t have saved you if Duckworth had aimed for your head.”

“Elena knocked his aim off,” Shane said, even when he knew his second-in-command was right.

Iverson cleared his throat. “Maybe we should all get out of the ladies’ room. I’m guessing you don’t want to meet up with Kinkead in here.”

Shane grimaced and ushered Elena into the hall.

He’d done a quick review of Duckworth’s file, then plunged ahead with his crazy rescue plan because he’d determined it had the best chance of getting the hostages out of the HR department alive. Still, he wasn’t looking forward to a face-to-face with Lincoln Kinkead now that the crisis was over. When he’d come up with the idea of going in through the window, he’d thought the S&D president was going to blow a gasket.

It had been a risky plan, but Shane had started enjoying risks since he’d realized he had nobody but himself to worry about. And when he’d spotted Elena Reyes watching him through the window, he’d been sure she was going to help him.

“Speak of the devil,” Bert whispered as a tall, balding man in his late fifties strode around the corner. It was Lincoln Kinkead, wearing his usual Savile Row suit and Italian shoes. In the aftermath of the hostage crisis, his face was slightly flushed.

“Gallagher,” Kinkead barked. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Once he heard the reassurance, he continued, “We’ll talk about that stunt later.”

“You want me to pay for the window?” Shane asked.

Kinkead swung toward him. “I have insurance. The window’s not the issue.”

Bert inserted himself into the conversation. “It was an unconventional approach, but it worked. Really, you’re lucky Shane was willing to try it. All the hostages could have gotten killed.”

“The usual procedure is to negotiate with the hostage taker,” Kinkead snapped.

“Do you think that would have worked with Duckworth?” Iverson asked.

“No,” the S&D president conceded. “We could all hear him coming apart at the seams. He was winding himself up for the slaughter—before he took his own life.”

“And you would have hated the negative publicity,” Bert said.

Kinkead nodded.

“This way, it’s a win for the company.”

“Yeah.”

When he heard that dispassionate assessment, Shane dragged in a breath and let it out, relieved to be off the hook for the moment.

The S&D president turned to Elena, looking at the blood on her blouse. “And you’re all right, too?”

“Yes.”

“We all heard you get Duckworth’s attention.”

“Then she tackled him,” Shane added.

“He was going to shoot Mr. Gallagher.”

“Right.” Kinkead’s gaze flicked to Shane, then back to Elena. “That was very brave of you.”

She raised one shoulder. “I guess it was instinctive.”

Kinkead cleared his throat. Still addressing Elena, he said, “We have several mental health professionals on call. You might want to contact one of them tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?”

“You went through a pretty rough experience. Talking to a professional about it could help put it in perspective.”

She looked uncertain. “I’m okay.”

“Just keep it in mind. I’m making the same offer to everyone involved. There’s nothing wrong with getting some professional help.”

“Okay,” she agreed, but Shane was rather sure from her reaction that she didn’t want to let a therapist into her head.

“The police and the press are waiting to speak to both of you,” Kinkead said.

“The press?” she breathed, looking panicked.

The S&D chief gave her a reassuring smile. “You know how these things work. When there’s a dangerous situation, the media are all over it. It would be almost impossible for you and Shane to get out of here without making a statement. You’re both heroes.”

A man with a lined face joined the group. He had a salt-and-pepper buzz cut and was wearing a rumpled tweed sport coat and gray slacks.

“This is Detective Langley,” Kinkead said. “He wants to get a statement from you. Why don’t we go down to my office?”

Shane nodded, staying beside Elena as they took the elevator to the second-floor executive offices.

“As soon as I heard about the blood spatter, I had my assistant run out to Lord and Taylor,” Kinkead said to Elena. “She’s getting you a blouse you can wear instead of that ruined one.”

“Thank you.”

Shane was in the middle of explaining his surprise attack to the detective when Penny Martin, an attractive young blond, came into the office with a shopping bag and took Elena to the executive washroom.

Shane watched them leave as he continued his explanation.

“Risky but effective,” Langley said, then asked some detailed questions.

When Elena came back, she was wearing a royal-blue blouse that set off her Hispanic good looks. As Shane gave her the once-over, she flushed, and he looked away. He was still remembering holding her in his arms, something he hadn’t thought he’d be doing. But when her adrenaline had stopped pumping, and she’d started wobbling on those slender legs of hers, he’d instinctively reached for her and pulled her close.

After finishing with Shane, Langley got a brief synopsis of the whole incident from Elena and said he might have more questions later.

“And now the media,” Kinkead said.

“What should I say?” Elena asked.

“Just tell them your role in what happened. It can be brief.”

“Why were you up in HR?” Shane asked.

Her gaze swung to him. “They were having trouble with some of their computer equipment.”

He nodded. He’d check that out when he had some time.

“The sooner we satisfy the press, the sooner you can get out of here,” Kinkead said.

“All right,” Elena agreed, but Shane could feel her tension.

Because she was nervous about being put in the spotlight, or because she had something to hide?

He gave himself a mental shake, annoyed that he was suspicious of her under these circumstances, but he couldn’t help it. He was suspicious by nature. His job made him suspicious. And he couldn’t help thinking that Elena Reyes might have something to do with the problem he’d been hired to solve at S&D.

They all moved to the lobby of the building, and Shane was surprised to find it had gotten dark while they’d been in the executive offices. Camera crews were standing by, spotlights were aimed at the front entrance of the building, and reporters ringed the door.

Elena gave him a panicked look, and he reached for her hand, squeezing it and feeling the cold of her fingers.

When he stroked his finger across her palm, he felt a little shiver go through her. “This isn’t worse than being held hostage at gunpoint, is it?” he whispered.

She laughed. “If you put it that way, I guess not.”

“So let’s get it over with.” He let go of her hand, and they stepped outside. Kinkead walked to the microphone and made a brief statement about what had happened, ending with: