Authors: Danielle Steel
“I'm getting married in five weeks, and I want Johnny there.”
“Why? So people won't talk? Go to hell.”
“He belongs with me. Philip and I love him.”
“That's strange.” Nick leaned back against his desk. He didn't want to come any closer to her. It was as though she exuded poison. “I seem to recall that he's the man who held a gun to my child's head.”
“Oh, for chrissake, stop talking about that.”
“You came to see me. I didn't come to see you. If you don't like what I have to say, get out of my office.”
“Not until you agree to let me see my son. And if you don't”—her eyes were just as vicious as his—“I'll get a court order and you'll have to.” Philip had already taken her to see his attorneys, and she liked their style. They were a tough bunch of bastards.
“Is that right? Well, why don't you have your attorney call mine and they can discuss it. You can save the cab fare coming down here to see me.”
“I can afford it.”
“That's true.” He smiled. “But your fiancé can't. I hear he's gone through his money and he's on an allowance from his mommy.”
“You son of a bitch …” He had hit a nerve, and she walked to the door then and yanked it open. “You'll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“Have a nice wedding.” The door slammed, and he reached for the phone and called Ben Greer.
“I know you don't like it, Nick. But you have to let her see him. You have bodyguards for the boy, she can't do any harm.”
“He doesn't want to see her.”
“He's not old enough to make that decision.”
“Says who?”
“The State of New York.”
“Shit.”
“I think you'd be smart to let her see him. She may lose interest after she sees him a couple of times, and that would look good for us in court. I really want you to think it over.”
Nick did and he was still adamant when he met with Greer in the man's offices a few days later.
“You know, if you don't, she can get a court order and force you to let her see the boy.”
“So she said.”
“She happens to be right. By the way, who are her attorneys?”
“They must be Markham's men. Fulton and Matthews.” Greer frowned at the names. “Do you know them?”
He nodded. “They're very tough, Nick. Very tough.”
“Tougher than you?” Nick was smiling but he looked worried.
“I hope not.”
“You
hope
not? That's some lousy answer. Can you beat them or not?”
“I can and I have, but they've beaten me a couple of times too. The fact is she's gotten herself the toughest bastards in town.”
“She would. Now what?”
“You let her see the boy.”
“It makes me sick.”
“It'll make you just as sick if they force you.”
“All right, all right.” He had his secretary call Hillary that afternoon and suggest a visit on the following weekend. He expected her to say that she'd be away, but she agreed, and she appeared at the appointed hour at the apartment. Nick had instructed the bodyguard to call the police and have Markham arrested if he showed up with her. With the restraining orders still in force, that was fair play, but Markham was smart enough not to show up. Hillary came alone, looking demure in a navy-blue suit and a mink coat Nick had given her.
Nick stayed downstairs in his study, and the bodyguard was posted outside the child's room, and instructions had been given to leave his door open. It was not an easy visit by any means, and as she left, Hillary dabbed at her eyes and kissed Johnny.
“I'll see you soon, darling.” And when she left, it was obvious that he was confused and torn by his mother's tears.
“Dad, she says she cries herself to sleep every night. She looked really sad. …” Johnny looked desperately unhappy as he showed his father the presents she'd brought him, a new baseball hat, some toy guns, a big stuffed bear he was much too old for, and a toy train. She had no idea what the boy liked so she had bought it all. And Nick had to restrain himself from further comment. It just upset the boy and he knew it. She was playing a game with him, and Nick thought it best not to confuse him any more than he already was. But the situation did not improve. She arrived every Sunday, laden with gifts, and sobbed in anguish in her son's room. Johnny was beginning to lose weight and look extremely nervous. And Nick reported it to his lawyer.
“Look, she's driving the kid nuts. He doesn't know what to think. She sits there and she cries, and she feeds him a lot of crap about crying herself to sleep every night.” Nick ran a hand nervously through his hair. He had had an argument with the boy that morning when he'd called his mother a bitch. Johnny had defended her.
“I told you it was going to be rough, and it's going to get a lot worse before we're through. Fulton and Matthews are no fools, they're telling her exactly what to do. They've written the script and she's playing it to perfection.”
“That's quite a little drama she's playing.”
“Of course. What do you expect her to do?”
“She's capable of anything.”
She continued the visits until the day of the wedding, and then she and Philip spent a three-week honeymoon in the Caribbean. And actually, she needed the rest. She hadn't felt quite herself since the abortion Philip had arranged in Reno, and the visits with Johnny were a hell of a strain. She was sick and tired of buying him gifts and waving a damp hankie.
“Look, damn it,” she told Philip on the beach in St. Croix, “he's not an easy kid, and he's crazy about his father. What do you expect me to do next? I've bought out goddamn Schwarz. Now what?”
“Well, you'd better think of something. My mother says that if this scandal continues when we get back, she's cutting off my money.”
“You're a grown man. Tell her to drop dead.” The blush was off the rose, and the heat in the Caribbean was making her nervous. “What the hell do you expect me to do?”
“I don't know. What about your trust? That might be easier than trying to force Burnham to give up the kid.”
“I can't touch my trust till I'm thirty-five. That's another six years.” The income she got had helped a lot, but it was not enough for them to live the way they liked to. They needed Mrs. Markham's help to do that.
“Then we have to have the kid. Nick's a fool, if we go to court, he won't win.”
“Tell
him
that.” She sighed and looked up at the sun. “He's a stubborn man.” As she knew only too well.
“He's a damn fool. Because he'll lose, and in the meantime my mother's going to drive me crazy.” He stared out to sea, and Hillary got up and walked along the beach. It annoyed her now that Philip was so much under his mother's thumb. He hadn't seemed to be before, but he was now. When she came back and lay down next to Philip again, she sighed and closed her eyes in the bright sun. And the problem of Johnny was quickly pushed out of her head as her husband rolled over on top of her and began to pull the top of her bathing suit down.
“Philip, don't!” But she was laughing. He was an outrageous man, and she had liked that about him from the first.
“Why not? There's no one around for miles.”
“What if someone comes along?” But his mouth silenced her words and a moment later the bathing suit was down, then off, tangled with his discarded trunks in the sand, as they lay on the beach and made love. And the last thing on either of their minds was Johnny.
t was the first of April when Hillary and Markham got back to New York and another week before Nick heard from her. It was unusually warm and Hillary said she wanted to take Johnny to the zoo. Her call dashed his hopes, because he had thought that maybe she wouldn't resume the visits when she got back, but here she was again. He sat in his office, looking annoyed as he spoke into the phone.
“Why the zoo?”
“Why not? He always liked it before.” He did, but Nick felt better having her visit in the house, where he knew what was going on. And then he realized that if he refused, she'd probably tell the boy, and then he'd be the bad guy with his son.
“All right, all right.” He'd send the bodyguard along, although he knew he had nothing to fear. She was biding her time until the court date, buying out F.A.O. Schwarz to impress their son. But it still made him feel better to have the guard along.
She showed up promptly at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon, in a bright red dress and a matching hat and white gloves, looking innocent and very pretty.
“Hi, sweetheart, how've you been?” She chirped at Johnny like a little bird, Nick thought to himself as they left. She had even had the forethought to wear flat shoes. He went back into his library after they left. He had some work to do. They were getting enormous contracts from Washington now, tied in with the new Lend-Lease program that had finally gone through in March. Nick had even gone to Washington twice to watch them lobby for the bill, and he was pleased with the results. It created an enormous new workload for him, but it tripled his income too. Burnham Steel was doing very well thanks to the war in Europe.
And he had almost gotten halfway through his stack of work when there was a pounding on his door and suddenly the bodyguard flew in, still breathless. He had run all the way home from the zoo. He looked at Nick with wild eyes now, his gun still in his hand.
“Mr. Burnham … Johnny's gone.” The man's face was deathly pale, but Nick's was more so as he jumped up.
“What?”
“I don't know what happened … I don't understand … they were right there, next to me, and she wanted to show him something near the lion's cage, and suddenly they were running … and there were three men. They had a car parked on the grass. I ran like hell, but I was afraid to fire and hurt the boy. …” Suddenly there were tears in the man's eyes, he liked the boy and he liked Nick, and he had failed dismally. “Christ … I don't know what to say …” He looked bereft and Nick took the guard's shoulders in his own powerful hands and shook him like a little child.
“You let her take my son? You let her—” He was almost incoherent with rage, and he had to fight to hold himself back. He threw the man against the desk then, grabbed the phone to call the police, and then called Greer at home. His worst fear had come true. His child was gone, God only knew where. The police arrived in less than half an hour, and Greer just on their heels. “She kidnapped my son.” He spoke in a trembling voice, and the bodyguard filled them in as Nick turned to Ben. “I want him found and I want her put in jail.”
“You can't do that, Nick.” Ben's eyes were sad but his voice was calm.
“The hell I can't. What about the Lindbergh law?”
“She's his mother, that's not the same thing.”
“Markham isn't. He's behind all this. Goddamn—” Ben touched his shoulders with a quiet hand.
“They'll find the boy.”
“And then what?” There were tears in Nick's eyes and his chin trembled like a child's. “I lose him in court? Goddamn it, isn't there any way I can keep my son?” And then he went upstairs and slammed the door to his own room, and he dropped his face into his hands and began to cry softly.
iane read the newspapers in San Francisco the next day. JOHNNY BURNHAM GONE! the headline read, and just below, BURNHAM STEEL HEIR KIDNAPPED. She felt her heart leap in her chest as she read, and it was only as she read the paragraph beneath, as she held the paper with trembling hands, that she realized that Hillary had kidnapped him. She knew Nick must be beside himself and once again she thought of calling him. But what could she do now? Offer her condolences, her regrets? There was no point asking him how he was. She knew that from reading the newspaper. He must have been frantic, looking for Johnny.