“Do I dare use the phone? What if the kidnappers try to call and get a busy signal?”
“They’ll call again.”
“Should I be ready with a suggestion for an exchange place?”
“They’ll have their own place in mind.”
“What if it’s somewhere secluded?”
“It probably will be.”
“They’ll be able to take the money and run. They won’t care about Megan.”
“But you’ll insist on seeing Meg first. You’ll tell them that they can choose the place, but that the deal is the money for your wife, there and then.”
“How can I demand that, when they’re holding all the cards? How can I demandanything?”
“You can demand it, and you will,” Savannah insisted, “because they’re not holding all the cards. You’re the one with the money. Don’t forget, it’s the money they want, not your wife. A little show of strength is in order, Will. If not for yourself, for Megan.”
For a minute, Will didn’t answer. When he did, he was looking puzzled. “Where do you get yours, Savannah?”
“My what?”
“Strength. How do you manage to stay so cool and rational?”
Savannah didn’t answer, but gave him a wry look. A minute later, she nodded toward the door and said, “Go on home. I’ll see you there in a little while.”
A few minutes later, sitting behind her desk with the telephone receiver honking out a busy signal against her shoulder, Savannah thought about strength. Where did she get it? She wasn’t sure. Strength was just something that came with her role, something that came with involving herself with details to avoid the overview.
Her strength was often a front. She could play the game with the best of them, acting cool and rational when inside she was shaking like a leaf. It has been that way from the very start of her tenure at the AG’s office. She had had to prove her worth, first, in a traditionally male world, and second, in a world of political favors. She had done it. She was a respected member of the team. She still needed to uphold that image of cool competence.
Perhaps that was why she understood why William Vandermeer did not want people to know he was hurting for money. He was trying to uphold an image, too. If she criticized him, she had to criticize herself.
Pressing the button on the phone, she dialed Susan’s number, but it was still busy. She would keep trying. Sending Susan to sit with William was a good idea. Susan needed something to do and someone to think about besides herself. She wasn’t a weakling, yet she allowed herself to act like one. Her low self-image needed correcting.
Everyone had a right to moments of weakness. Susan took too many, Savannah too few. There were times when Savannah wanted to relax, to lean on someone, perhaps cry on his shoulder. To some extent, though, she’d backed herself into a corner. She had come to expect competence from herself. Before she could ease up enough to relax, lean on someone, or cry on his shoulder, she had to find a man who could match her strength.
There was no one like that around the office. Nor had she found anyone like that among the men she had dated in the past few years. She was beginning to wonder if one existed.
Women got more picky with age. She had heard it said, seen it written, knew it to be true. At eighteen, she had been far more open to different men and relationships than she was at thirty-going-on-thirty-one. Of course, at eighteen she had been far less sophisticated than she was now. If she had married then, she would probably have divorced soon after. Instead she had been smart and spared herself some pain.
Unfortunately, there was pain in looking toward the future and seeing endlessly long, lonely nights. Perhaps she’d outsmarted herself.
CHAPTER3
When Savannah arrived at the Vandermeers shortly after two o’clock, she found Will sitting at the large captain’s table in the kitchen, looking lost. Sam Craig and Hank Shanski were in the library, efficiently going about their work. They had already put a tap on the phone, but there had been no call, no contact at all from the kidnappers.
After taking one look at Will, who was staring blindly at the ransom note, Savannah went to the cabinet in search of coffee. There were three bags of beans. The mill was on the counter by the coffee maker. She made a pot of strong coffee and then sat down next to Will.
“Have you called the insurance company?” she asked softly.
He nodded. “They’re sending someone over.”
“How long will it take them to get you the money?”
He shot her a worried look. “They have to make sure this is a bona fide kidnapping. They said not to touch anything. Their man wants to do his own investigation before any cleanup is done.”
“He may be satisfied with talking to Sammy and Hank. They’re pretty thorough.”
