Trial by Fire Page 3

  Abbey took Ame’s hand to help her find her dress shoes as Sloan scooped Ethan from the bed. He gently set his son in his car seat and secured him. The baby cooed and giggled as his father carefully carried him to the Hummer and buckled him in.

  Sloan turned to find his girls waiting for him at the doorway of the garage. Once Ame was latched in safely beside Ethan, Sloan took Abbey by the hand and escorted her to the passenger side. He helped her inside and closed her door. As he slid behind the wheel, he took another glance at his family. He smiled contentedly. He couldn’t wait to get to the courthouse.

  Gordon and Maggie were waiting inside the courthouse door for Sloan, his sister impatiently pacing a small path on the tile. She glared at him as he shepherded his family inside. “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you, big brother?” Maggie snapped.

  “I have ten minutes to check in, little sister,” Sloan countered, his deep brogue a soft purr. “My paperwork is, as always, in perfect order.”

  “Even that second identity issue?”

  “I took the test. I passed. The CIA assured me the rest was handled. As far as anyone knows Tom Morrison never existed. I’ve always been Sloan O’Riley.”

  Maggie shot a glare at Gordon for support. She growled as the older Irishman snickered at the sibling spat. Gordon motioned for them to follow him to check in. It didn’t take long to verify their applications and paperwork. Soon they were ushered into the courtroom for the naturalization ceremony.

  Sloan spoke the Oath of Allegiance with a loud, clear voice. He wanted none to mistake his desire to remain with those whom he held precious. A small smile spread across his lips as he glanced behind him quickly. His beautiful Abigail was capturing every moment that she could on her cell phone. Could I possibly love her more?

  Once the ceremony was over and they had received their certificates, Gordon, Maggie, and Sloan gathered with their large family. The pictures took nearly an hour. As the flash bulbs subsided, they started discussing lunch. Once a place was set, Sloan took Ame’s hand. With a sly, sensual smile, he pressed his other to the small of Abbey’s back to lead her outside.

  His revelry was cut short by a voice from his past, a voice he never thought he’d hear again. “Tom Morrison.”

  Sloan’s head snapped up, his eyes falling on a gray-haired, gaunt man dressed in a business suit. He was suddenly sixteen again, preparing to run another message through the enemy. He was vaguely aware of the twin growls behind him. “Commander Fitzgerald,” he murmured.

  “You look well, young man. Seems you’ve done well for yourself. And a family too.”

  Sloan gaped at him, speechless. The shock of seeing his commanding officer from the IRA on United States soil was too much. He was completely stunned by the half dozen American officials that flanked him. He didn’t need to speak. His adoptive fathers did it for him.

  “What do you want here, Fitzgerald?” Gordon snapped. “And it’s Sloan O’Riley.”

  “Forgive me. I’m the bearer of bad news. Sloan, there was DNA evidence found at the scene of the bombing in London. It was matched to you. You’re under arrest for murder.”

  “You just found DNA evidence? How could that be?” Gordon objected.

  “And how am I just learning about this?” Liam demanded.

  “It was matched to Tom Morrison years ago. But Tom disappeared. Now that we’ve learned that Tom Morrison and Sloan O’Riley are one and the same, we’re here to take him into custody. And Liam, we kept this from you because I know how close you are with Sloan. I couldn’t have you warn him.”

  “I’m on American soil. I’m an American citizen now. You can’t just come and arrest me,” Sloan informed him weakly.

  “In light of recent discoveries, the United States is turning you over to us. You’re being extradited back to Northern Ireland. These gentlemen,” Fitzgerald said as he motioned to either side of him, “are here to take you into custody. Fellas, he’s all yours.”

  The men surrounding Fitzgerald swarmed them, shoving aside Abbey, Liam, and Gordon to arrest him. Sloan roared as he twisted in their grip. “Leave my wife alone.”

  “Then settle down, Mr. O’Riley. No one needs to get hurt,” the agent in front of him demanded.

  Sloan looked at him as his body deflated. His eyes then met Abbey’s as he felt the cold metal of handcuffs wrap tight around his wrists. The horror in her eyes broke his heart.

  “Let’s go, Mr. O’Riley.”

  Sloan tore his eyes away from Abbey as he was led to the waiting vehicles. He was roughly shoved inside the first SUV. Before the door was shut, Fitzgerald slid in beside him. His gaunt face beamed. “It may be early but I want to be the first to say it. Welcome home, boy.”

  “You set me up.” Sloan’s voice was violent through clenched teeth. His eye became hot as it began to swell. He didn’t remember being struck. “I completed every task you gave me, completed every order. And you turn me over to the enemy?”

  “Every task? Not every one, Sloan.” Fitzgerald leaned into him, his hot breath inflaming Sloan’s ear. “I wanted blood, boy. Innocent, guilty…it didn’t matter. I wanted Northern Ireland in my grip. You could have been the perfect soldier for me. I didn’t need you fighting for the IRA. I needed you fighting for me.”

  “Fighting for you? I was a child. An errand boy. Nothing more. I only tinkered with the ignition because it was an interesting challenge.”

  “And then, you tried to leave. You met with those recruiters from the All Blacks that those imbeciles I let raise you invited to watch you play rugby. So, I fixed it so that you could never leave. I finished your precious design then loaded it with enough C4 to blow up say…a marketplace?”

  For a moment, Sloan’s veins turned to ice as the revelation hit him like a shaft of lightning. It had been Fitzgerald who set him up, destroyed his life, and forced him to flee from his ma and Maggie to save himself. It had been Fitzgerald who had murdered all those innocent people and pinned it on him.

  “You son of a bitch,” he said with a growl.

  “Hush. Sit back. Enjoy the ride. You’ll be home soon, boy.”

  Sloan closed his eyes, clinging to the image of Abbey, Ame, and Ethan that he held in his heart. He had been a fool to leave them. Now he would never see them again.

  There’s no way out of this one. I’m as good as dead.

  Chapter Three

  Logan shifted himself on the couch to reach for the remote on the coffee table. He clicked to the conclusion of the Twins baseball game. It was close, with a last inning home run winning it for the home team. He smiled at the victory as he set his laptop back on his lap. He started to channel surf again.

  “Logan, do you want another beer?” A sweet, soft voice floated from the kitchen.

  “Yeah, baby. Thanks.”

  Logan scanned the desktop of his computer screen for the files he needed. He clicked them open one by one. A contract of several pages popped into view. He slowly started reading through it. Although it was Sunday, he would put in nearly a full day of work.

  His thoughts distracted him from the words he was reading, turning them into a blur of jumbled letters. He didn’t mind working on the weekend. In the year that he had worked for Sloan Enterprises, he had come to love his job. But he still hated his boss. Logan didn’t think he would ever see eye to eye with Sloan O’Riley, especially with the past they shared. It hadn’t taken long for Logan to realize that the past they both shared owned a large chunk of the company and that Sloan loved her more than he ever could.

  Abbey and Sloan were a human yin and yang. Where Sloan was dark, Abbey was light. Where Sloan was sin, Abbey was pure. Where Sloan was anger and manipulation, Abbey was sweet and friendly. However, despite their polar-opposite personalities, they were the same person. They were stubborn. They were driven. They were fiercely loyal to their business, their employees, their friends, and, most of all, each other.

  Logan smiled to himself. In the end, it was best that he and Abbey had gone the
ir separate ways. She belonged to Sloan, and it had given him a chance at a relationship with Ashleigh. It still didn’t mean he had to like Sloan, though. And he didn’t.

  He looked up as a cold, wet sensation seeped through his T-shirt. Ashleigh smiled down at him as she pressed his beer against his arm to get his attention. The long, flowing curls that framed her face took his breath away.

  “Must be some kind of contract to distract you that much.” She smirked.

  “It’s not nearly as distracting as you are,” Logan replied with a wink.

  “Then shut the laptop down. Whatever you’re reading can wait for tomorrow.”

  He gazed at her for a bit and then grinned. She was right. It could wait. And if Sloan screamed at him for not having the paperwork ready, he would tell the Irishman to shove it. He clicked the file closed and then swept his finger across the mouse pad, directing the cursor toward the menu button to shut the computer down. He froze as his eyes locked on the breaking story displaying on his news app.

  “Ashleigh, turn on CNN,” he commanded.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  Frowning, Ashleigh flipped to the channel.

  The remote fell from her hand into her lap at the sight there. A black, armored SUV was surrounded by policemen. Two of them had a prisoner in their hands—a prisoner dressed impeccably in a black Armani suit. They roughly shoved him inside. The location stamp read “Minneapolis, Minnesota.” The rolling captions reported, “Billionaire Land Developer Arrested in Long-Standing Murder/Terrorism Charge.”

  “Logan, that was Sloan,” Ashleigh nearly screamed. “Why does it say he’s Tom Morrison?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.” Logan scanned the screen. In the far right corner, he could see Gordon and Liam fighting against the squadron to get to the man they knew as their son. He stood and gently dropped the laptop onto her lap. “I need a flight. Now. I’m going to call Abbey.”

  He didn’t miss the pout on her face. It was hard enough to be Sloan’s assistant. She wasn’t happy that Logan assumed she was his. “To where?”

  “Belfast.”

  “Why? You hate Sloan.”

  “Yes, that’s true. But I’m executive council for Sloan Enterprises. That means I’m Sloan O’Riley’s attorney. And I need to make sure he has the best defense council in Northern Ireland that money can buy. And I will be there to help that lawyer any way I can. I may not be able to defend him there, but I will make sure there’s someone fighting for him.”

  Ashleigh huffed as she began to type. “Do you want a window seat or an aisle?”

  “Whatever you don’t want.”

  Ashleigh’s big, sapphire eyes snapped to him. “Excuse me?”

  Logan smiled at her. “You need to book two tickets. I need an assistant there to go looking at old records, talk to people.” His grin grew wider. “To hold me at night.”

  A small smirk cracked the corner of her mouth. “I like the window.”

  “Fine. Get me the one next to you. That way I can block any chatty, overly friendly men who might sit next to us.”

  Her smile blossomed as she continued typing. Logan dialed Abbey’s cell. There was no answer. He tried every number he had for her. It ended with the same result. Is she on her way to Belfast?

  Logan paused for a moment. Then, he opened the address book on his phone and searched for a contact. He pressed Send and waited.

  “Yeah, Logan?” Robert demanded.

  “I assume you heard the breaking news around the globe?” Logan asked.

  “Gordon called. Bartholomew and I are halfway to Ireland now on the second jet.”

  “No one thought to call the lawyer, huh?”

  “Sorry. We’re not used to having you in the inner circle. For fifteen years, we’ve called three numbers. We haven’t adjusted to dialing a fourth. We’re working on it.”

  “Have you talked to Abbey?”

  “No. We’re trying. Since we left, we can’t reach Mary or Maggie, either. The only one of the girls we can reach is Vicki, and she keeps telling me she doesn’t know anything.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Hell, no. I love her more than anything, and she’s carrying my child, but I can tell she’s lying. Something’s up.”

  “Should we be concerned?”

  “Yes. About what, I don’t know. Who knows what Abbey has going in that crazy little mind of hers. I’ll keep you posted on what I find.”

  “Sounds good. Later, Robert.”

  “Later.”

  Logan hung up and turned to Ashleigh.

  She greeted him with a beaming, proud grin. “Tickets are booked. Plane leaves in three hours.”

  “Well, then. Let’s go pack.” He held his hand out to her. She bounded off the sofa, slipped her hand in his, and followed him down the hall.

  »»•««

  Abbey wrapped her arms around herself as she walked along the plank-covered path alongside the lake. She gazed at the various shades of green, from mint to emerald to evergreen, as the dew sparkled on the sun-drenched spring leaves.

  She loved the path that circled the lake behind the house. The neighbors all around took full advantage of it. For Abbey, it was the rare retreat she and Sloan shared. There weren’t too many occasions that they were without Ame and Ethan. But when the time came that someone else was watching their children, they would always find their way to the trail.

  They would walk the entirety of it, their fingers intertwined. They wouldn’t talk much. They would just enjoy being together. Occasionally, Sloan would stop and pull her to him just to hold her in his arms. Between their company and his past, there was no such thing as peace. Here, there was at least the illusion of it.

  She hugged herself tighter as she closed her eyes, her long, brown hair blowing in the cool breeze. She could feel Sloan’s presence around her, strong and warm. She could feel his breath on her cheek, his lips pressed against her skin. Even though he was thousands of miles away locked in a Belfast prison, she could still sense him there.

  She jolted at the vibration of her cell. She slipped it from her jeans pocket to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hello, little one,” Gordon greeted.

  “What have you found out, Dad?” Abbey begged. “Why is the Northern Ireland government suddenly after Sloan?”

  “They’ve been looking for Tom Morrison for years. When we freed him a few years ago, that man who grabbed you in Belfast named Brown went to Fitzgerald and told him that Sloan was really Tom Morrison. Since then they’ve been working to build an ironclad case to get him extradited. All the while they had to keep it quiet so Liam and his associates would never find out.”

  “Is there anything we can do to free him? How can I help?”

  “I think I have a plan. But it requires you to be here in Belfast. We need you here to support your husband. And I need your help exposing the truth.”

  “Will what we find free my husband?”

  “I hope so, yes.”

  “Then consider it done. When do you need me?”

  “As soon as possible. I will call your mother and Maggie to watch the children. Pack for both you and them. I’m sending them to Montana. Bartholomew’s brothers will keep them safe while we deal with the chaos.”

  “All right. I’ll let you know when my flight will be.”

  “I’ll arrange it.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Very good, lass. See you soon.”

  Abbey ended the call. With a sigh, she jogged along the planks back to her house. Once there, she slipped into her bedroom to pack. Once she was finished, she went to Ame and Ethan’s room to gather their things together.

  As she zipped the last bag closed, there was a knock at the door. Abbey greeted Mary and Maggie with a smile. She gestured them inside. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

  As soon as Abbey shut the door, Mary smothered her in a hug. “Sweetheart, please be careful.” />
  “You too.”

  “I’m not charging into unknown. You are.”

  Abbey glanced irritably down at her vibrating phone. Logan again. He’s called me at least a dozen times. She silenced the cell and faced Mary. “True, but you’re taking on my kids. That’s a challenge for anyone, even me.”

  Mary couldn’t help but laugh. “Your dad arranged for all of us to fly out tonight. He sent the airport shuttle to get us. Vicki is waiting in the van for us to go. Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I will ever be.”

  Mary and Maggie helped gather the bags. Mary held Ethan as Abbey took Ame’s hand. Maggie locked the door behind them as they strode to the vehicle waiting for them. Once they were all secured, the van pulled away from the house. Abbey took one last look as it disappeared behind them. Hopefully she wouldn’t be gone long, and when she came home, Sloan would be with her.

  »»•««

  Sloan shuffled between the four guards that flanked each side of him. The shackles on his ankles made walking nearly impossible. The cuffs on his wrists weighed heavily on his arms. By instinct, he scanned the area around him. There were groups of inmates gathered together in the common area. In most situations he could con his way into becoming the dominant male. Those who didn’t comply would meet the end of his fist. However, in this situation the best course would be to lay low, keep silent, and observe. He had plenty of time to deconstruct the social structure so he could plot his first move. Very likely I’ll have a lifetime.

  Despite his scheming, he held only one thought in his mind. Abbey. Is she on her way to Belfast? Will she be by my side through the trial I’m destined to lose? Will she remain there until the final moment, when I’m sentenced to spend the rest of my life here without her?

  Or will this be the nail in the coffin for our relationship? He sighed. His heart ached. I can’t lose her. Not now.

  Sloan collided with the guard in front of him. He cursed beneath his breath as he looked up. His thoughts had distracted him so much that he never noticed the man stop in front of him to free him of his restraints. His gaze shot around as he took in the scene. On first count, he saw at least two dozen men with their eyes locked on him. Two televisions mounted to the wall reported the current news. His image was plastered on the screen. Shit. They recognize me. A rich man isn’t going to last long here.