“That won’t work. It doesn’t have a knob.” Shelby pointed to the door’s shaft-like handle. “Is there a rope in here?” She scanned the room. “Something we could use to tie this handle to the closet door handle.”
“Good thinking.” Wade opened the closet door and chuckled. He reached in for a plastic package and held it up for them to see. “Support hose.”
“Perfect.” Shelby took it from him.
“Should I call you Mr. Grantham now?” Wade asked, unsure.
“The name Grantham has only caused me grief, my boy. Call me Alan. Itisone of my names.” He looked at Shelby, contriteness in his expression. “It wasn’t really a lie, and Iaman attorney. I didn’t make that up just for you, Shel. It was part of my therapy.”
“What therapy?” Wade asked.
“I’m recovering from Paranoid Personality Disorder. It’s part of what drove Shelby’s mother away.” He pulled an unhappy face. “Two mentally ill people make for a poor marriage.”
“And poor parents,” Shelby muttered, ripping open the plastic bag.
“And poor parents.” Alan lifted one of the legs of the support hose and started wrapping it around the closet door handle. “My doctor thought if I didn’t have to be Charles Grantham that I might be able to go out in public again. We worked on it over a few years, establishing me as Alan Bradley, but keeping my contact with people to only phone calls and such.”
“Are you kidding me?” Shelby shot him a flat look as she wrapped her hose leg tight around her door handle. “Please don’t even tell me you really thought you could pull a Clark Kent.”
“Come on, Shelby,” Alan said. “You know me.”
“IthoughtI did,” she whispered.
“Shel.” Alan let out a deep breath. “I’m not completely stupid. I hadn’t been seen in public for years. A little plastic surgery and a different hair color did wonders.”
As they worked in silence, Shelby found herself glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. Alan really was her father. The thought of the almost-lies he’d told her over the years made a part of her furious. And yet she couldn’t deny that part of her rejoiced.Alan was her father. Who had lied to her. Her mind kept spinning around and around, back and forth, like she was trapped on the Disney teacup ride and had no way off. She felt betrayed by Alan. Again.
Betrayal. Alan had just been betrayed by someone he thought of as a friend. Had Philip been plotting this for years? Or had something changed recently? It didn’t make sense.
“Did Philip know you before?” She kept her voice low and glanced at Alan, not surprised at the pained expression that crossed his face.
“Not since the beginning, if that’s what you mean.” Alan gave the support hose rope one last tug and turned to her. “When my old head of security decided to retire, he suggested Philip. I knew about him through my daily reports. He’d been especially effective in handling a nasty chemical accident on the outskirts of Jakarta. That’s where his wife’s people are from. Philip had a young family and a driving desire to succeed for them. Accepting him on my detail, letting someone new into my inner sanctum, was my first step toward a normal life.”
“Are you done?” Wade had to raise his voice against a loud rattling of the windows. “I don’t know how long the glass will hold if these gusts get any worse.” He must have moved the table away from the window while they’d been tying up the doors. “Once we open this window, it’s going to be a mess in here.”
“Wouldn’t Philip have at least one of his people out there watching for us?” she asked.
“Unlikely in this weather,” Alan said.
“Shel.” Wade pointed to her stash of food on the desk. “Be sure to bring that.”
She hurried to him, grabbing the food on her way. Alan followed behind her, a hand at the small of her back.
“As soon as it’s open, we need to move fast.” Wade bent to slide the window up, blocking a view of the outside. He stiffened and stepped back to reveal a shadowy face looking at them through the glass.
