Trial by Fire Read online

  She and Gordon were escorted into a security office. Three flat screens were mounted to the wall. Each held a still from the bombing. The center one focused on a chain-link fence smeared with blood.

  A tall, thin blonde dressed in a suit coat and matching skirt leaned over a desk, sorting photos. At first glance she looked like Kimberly Davenport, the lingerie model Sloan had dated in Minneapolis. Abbey fought back a growl. So the man has a type.

  She turned, tossing a light-colored lock of hair off her shoulder. Her face brightened. “Gordon.”

  Gordon wrapped the blonde in a quick hug. “Hello, lass.”

  She turned toward Abbey. “I’m sorry. I’ve not met you. Heidi Corbyn. And you are?”

  Abbey stiffened as she shook the hand that was offered. “Abbey.”

  Heidi looked astonished at Gordon. “Abbey.”

  “Abbey Morrison. Or O’Riley. Or whatever.”

  A smile cracked across her lips. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “I apologize. I’ve just learned about you.”

  “I’m not surprised. Sloan wasn’t one to kiss and tell.”

  “Obviously.”

  Gordon motioned to the desk. “Is that the evidence?”

  “Yes. Photos, reports, even a sample of the blood taken from the site.”

  “Can we take a look?”

  “Help yourself.”

  Abbey shot one last grin at Heidi as she and Gordon crossed the room to the table. She picked up the first file, finding the DNA report. She fought back a shudder as her eyes landed on Sloan’s name. She picked up one photo after another and then looked up at the screens. “This is horrible.”

  “Yes, it is. The actual event was far worse.”

  “Lasses, I’m going to step out and call to see how the trial is going.” Gordon nodded to each of them. He slipped the phone out of his pocket and left them alone.

  Abbey picked up another folder to read the police report. Every piece of information was condemning. Reaching into her jeans pocket, she pulled out the photo she found in the cellar. It gave her a little hope in the hopelessness.

  “Abbey, Scotland Yard did a thorough investigation. You have to face facts. Sloan is guilty,” Heidi warned.

  “He’s innocent,” Abbey growled.

  “I don’t want to think a man I shared a bed with could do this either. But the facts are irrefutable.”

  “He is innocent.”

  “And how can you be certain?”

  “Because I know him. Obviously far better than you ever did.”

  “You don’t need to be snarky with me. I’m trying to help.”

  “It sounds like you’ve thrown in the towel.”

  “I have not.”

  “That’s sure not what I’m hear…” Abbey’s voice trailed off as her eyes locked on the middle screen. She studied the chain-link post spotted with crimson. “Wait. Where is this fence?”

  “It used to be along the perimeter of the market. It was torn down after the bombing.”

  “And that’s the blood they tested?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it came up as Tom Morrison’s?”

  “That’s what the report in your hand says.”

  Abbey dropped the folder, shuffled through a pile of folders until she found the one she was looking for, and then looked at the photo. “And at the time, sixteen-year-old Tom was how tall?” She scanned the papers in the file. “He was six foot even.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that a regular, every day, ordinary fence like that is four foot tall. And with that much blood, someone would scar. Right?”

  “Get to the point, Abbey,” Heidi snapped.

  Abbey dug through her purse until she found her wallet. She slapped a photo next to the screen. She didn’t miss the groan that came from Heidi as both women stared at the shirtless Irishman, his tattoos emblazoned on his skin. “There’s no scar.”

  “He hired a world class plastic surgeon to change his and Gordon’s face. He could have had scar revision to hide it.”

  “It wouldn’t be gone completely. Also look at the fence.” Abbey pointed at the screen to the fence. Her finger landed on the area with the most blood. She drew a small circle on the monitor. “See? There’s not a sharp enough spot to cause a gash that would leave that much blood. I don’t see any sharp edges. If someone hit that they would bruise, not bleed. Plus the blood is on the outside of the fence.” She pointed back to the screen. “The market is behind it. And reports say there were droplets of blood leading out. But where did the blood come from? Not Sloan. There’s no sign of a wound.”

  Heidi studied the photos and the screen. “Yes. I think you’re right. Where did you ever come up with the scar theory?”

  “I know that area. I spend a lot of time…” Abbey’s voice broke as she felt her face burn.

  Heidi’s lips twitched up in a smirk. “Spend a lot of time doing what?”

  Abbey cocked her head up in an attempt to compose herself. It didn’t work. “He has a mole there. He likes it kissed. A lot. Licked too. He moans like a madman.”

  “Good to know.”

  “So we know he wasn’t there to bleed. So where did the blood come from?”

  “I think I might have an idea.”

  Both women turned toward the door to find Gordon leaning against the doorframe. Abbey’s face felt like it was on fire. My stepfather heard about me having sex with Sloan. Fantastic.

  He stepped into the room and took the folder from Abbey with a wink. “Fitzgerald ordered us to take Sloan in for a physical complete with blood tests. They took three vials of blood. It’s too much of a coincidence that the bombing was two days later.”

  “We need to talk to the doctor who did the physical,” Abbey replied.

  “No longer alive.”

  “We at least need to see if there’s a record of the visit.”

  “That I agree with. We’ll fly out immediately.”

  Abbey turned to Heidi. “Thank you for your help.”

  “I’m happy to. I want nothing more than to see Sloan freed.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” Abbey spun on her toe and stormed from the room. She stopped when Heidi called her name.

  Heidi held a card to her. “If you get any new evidence, send it to me. If it’s the right information, I’ll get the case reopened. But you need to be quick. When the jury delivers its verdict it’ll be too late.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  She waved to Heidi before she passed through the first security guard. She heard the click of Gordon’s boots behind her.

  “You didn’t need to be so hard on Heidi,” he chided. “She was trying to help.”

  “I don’t like her. She’s seen far too much of Sloan naked for my liking and in the most intimate way.”

  “She didn’t know about his mole and how aroused he gets when it’s kissed.”

  Abbey stopped to glare at him. He laughed as she stormed from the building to the car.

  »»•««

  The first available flight to Belfast didn’t leave until the following morning. It was a long, quiet period for Abbey to wait anxiously. The prosecution was almost finished. The defense didn’t have much. Like Heidi said, if she didn’t hurry it would be too late. She would lose her husband forever.

  When they landed in Northern Ireland, they had no time to go back to the farmhouse. Gordon and Abbey found the rental car and loaded their bags. Abbey clung to the seat as Gordon weaved through the streets a little quicker than normal.

  “Doctor Porter took over O’Connell’s patients. We’re headed there,” he informed her as he turned sharply.

  “Thanks.” Abbey gritted her teeth as she closed her eyes. “Why the rush?”

  “Still hope to get to the prison today.”

  “Got it.”

  Abbey breathed a sigh of relief when Gordon stopped in front of a modern office building. He gestured to it. “When Doc
tor Porter took over Doctor O’Connell’s patients, they moved everything here. Medical records too. They preserved everything on computers.”

  “That’s good to know. Should we go?”

  “Of course, lass.”

  Abbey smiled at him before they stepped out of the car and jogged across the street to the building.

  Stepping inside, they were greeted by the receptionist. “How many I help you?”

  “Are any of Doctor O’Connell’s nurses still working here?” Abbey asked.

  “A couple. Darcy is here today.”

  “We have a couple of questions. Could we talk with her?”

  “Have a seat. I’ll get her.”

  “Thank you.” Abbey slumped into a chair beside Gordon. Her thoughts scrambled in her head as she stared at the door on the opposite side of the room. What would she ask? Could she just sneak in and look around herself? Was there anything to find?

  A small woman dressed in scrubs appeared in the doorway, her silver-streaked hair tied back in a ponytail. “Are you asking for me?”

  Abbey and Gordon stood. Abbey offered her hand. “Yes. I had a question about a patient that Doctor O’Connell had years ago. He’s my husband.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t give medical information out.”

  “We really need your help. Could we talk in private?”

  Darcy looked around the half-filled waiting room uneasily. “Of course. Follow me.”

  The nurse led them through corridors of exam rooms until they reached the empty staff lounge. Darcy closed the door behind them and crossed her arms over her chest. “So what is it you wish to talk to me about?”

  Abbey took a deep breath. “My husband is Tom Morrison.”

  “I brought him in for a physical before the London bombing,” Gordon interjected. “I’m wondering if there is any documentation on that.”

  Darcy’s eyes grew wide as she paled a bit. “I can’t share that.”

  “You know something.”

  The nurse stared at her silently. Abbey continued. “Do you have a family?”

  “Aye. Four wee ones.”

  “Tom and I have a daughter and son waiting for us at home. They need their daddy. Please, I’m begging you from one mother to another. Please help me take their daddy home to them.”

  Darcy was quiet for a moment longer. “I could lose my job.”

  “If Tom sues. Trust me he won’t.”

  “Abigail,” Gordon warned.

  “If it leaks out at all,” Darcy reminded.

  “If it’s significant, I’ll send officials with a warrant,” Abbey assured. “No one will know you talked to us. I promise.”

  Darcy sighed. “I remembered this appointment as if it were yesterday. Tom was such as good lad. Friendly. Polite. Very handsome. It was wrong for me to note that but I was just out of nursing school and he was nearly an adult. Those eyes could steal your heart. The visit was unusual from the start. We had examined Tom three weeks previous. We followed the same procedure except we took three vials of blood. I didn’t understand why. He was healthy as a horse.” She nodded to Gordon. “You left with him. When I went to send the vials to pathology, there were only two vials, not three. I noted in Tom’s file about the discrepancy in case the third vial ever showed back up. Later that day, a man came to visit Doctor O’Connell. The doctor handed him something that looked like a vial but I wasn’t sure.”

  “Did you recognize the man?”

  “I do now. He’s been on television in the courtroom. He sits behind the prosecution. His name is Fitzgerald I think.”

  Abbey’s mouth fell open in shock. She whipped her phone from her back pocket and searched the Internet. She held up the screen to the nurse. “Is that him?”

  “Aye.”

  “Please. Can I see your notes?”

  Darcy motioned for them to follow. They wove through the maze of hallways until they found a vacant terminal. The nurse’s fingers flew across the keyboard until a scanned copy of an examination report popped onto the screen. She pointed to it. “There. There’s my note.”

  “Fantastic.” Abbey held up her phone and shot a couple of pictures.

  Gordon reached for the phone. “Abigail, don’t.”

  “Stop!” Darcy protested as she held her hands over the information. “Delete those. You can’t do that.”

  Abbey’s fingers glided over the screen of her smartphone as she held it out of her stepfather’s reach. “Too late. I’ve sent them to some friends of mine.”

  “But my job.”

  “One of those friends are the law enforcement I told you about. They have no idea you showed me. I don’t think they care. And in the end if they do care, I have the means to make sure they forget. And if you would rather you stay at home with your children, I can make that happen too. Thank you for your help.”

  Abbey strode down the hallway before Darcy could say another word. She didn’t notice Gordon on her heels until they were outside.

  “Abigail, what the bloody hell was that?” Gordon demanded.

  “It seemed like testimony to me. One in our favor for a change.”

  “A coerced testimony. That poor woman will more than likely lose her job.”

  Abbey stopped dead in her tracks and looked him in the eye. “I meant what I said. I’ll make sure she’s taken care off.”

  “What are you going to do with those photos?”

  “It’s what I did with them. They’re already with Heidi and Logan. Heidi can start researching and Logan can have Shemus prepare a summons.”

  “Heidi?”

  “She gave me her business card in case I found anything new. Case closed. Fitzgerald did it.”

  “Speculative. There’s fact that one of the vials went missing. She could have misplaced it. But it seems we are on to something.”

  “So now what?”

  “So now we need to let some others in on the secret that you’re here. And when we get back to the house I have a present for you.”

  “Who are you telling?”

  “Robert, Bartholomew, Liam and Logan.”

  “And why are we telling them now?”

  “Because I’m about to introduce you to some nefarious characters. Once the news spreads that Tom Morrison’s bride has gone underground, they will find out. It’s best they know ahead of time. They can’t help you but the less the shock the better.”

  “All right.”

  Gordon brought the car to a stop in front of the farmhouse. Ushering Abbey inside, he had her sit on the sofa. She watched as he took the steps two at a time to the upper level. In the very quiet farmhouse she could hear him on the phone. Since the speaker of his phone was on, she could hear the others also. There was disbelief, maybe even a little anger. She clearly heard Robert make a comment about the blonde at the courthouse. Abbey rolled her eyes. Of course he’d say that.

  Then everything went silent. The only voice she could hear was Gordon’s and even that was a low murmur. A few minutes later he descended the stairs again. “We’re going to take advantage of the recess until Monday. Bartholomew found someone who Fitzgerald worked with shortly after the war. We’re going to visit him.”

  “Worked with him? Doing what?”

  “Drugs. Dealing arms. Very unscrupulous things.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “There’s stew on the stove. Let’s eat. Then we’ll get some sleep. We leave in the morning.”

  “For London.”

  “For Amsterdam.”

  “Got it.”

  “Abigail, this path you’re on. It’s about to get very dark, very dangerous. Now is the time to turn back. Once you step foot in Amsterdam, there’s no turning back. I should go alone.”

  “I’m Sloan’s only chance. He is my world. He is my everything. I’m going.”

  “I can’t have you in danger.”

  “I won’t be if you’re with me, right?”

  Gordon smiled at her slowly then gave her a quick hug. “All right. Let’s go
and eat.”

  “All right.”

  Abbey’s heart was racing as she followed Gordon into the kitchen. As she reached the door, the smell of stew greeted her. It turned her stomach. Her life was about to take a drastic turn. Was she ready? She didn’t know. However, it didn’t matter. She would do anything to save her husband.

  Chapter Six

  Sloan sat hunched on his bed. He knew the guard would be in shortly to get him to meet with Logan and Ashleigh. He laughed hopelessly, the sound echoing off the cement walls of the tiny cell. He didn’t see the point of their daily chats. They were losing the case. There had never been hope for a win. The florist helped a little but not enough. In a matter of weeks, he would be trapped in this place for the rest of his life.

  He rubbed his eyes. He was beginning to look forward to it. Without Abbey, there was no reason to live. He had been confined in this prison for over three weeks. He had nearly died. And there still was no sign of her. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her. That first day replayed in his mind over and over.

  Sloan zipped up his trousers as he stared out at the city lights. Manhattan was simply beautiful at night. He buttoned the cuff of his dress shirt as he heard the rustle of the sheets behind him.

  “Sloan, please stay,” the blonde cooed as she sat up and reached for him.

  He smiled at her as he fastened the other cuff. “You know, my dear, that I’m not going to. I never do.”

  “You should. My chef makes an incredible omelet.”

  “Your father’s chef makes an incredible omelet.”

  “Same thing.”

  Her big blue eyes pleaded with him in a battle of wills. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t win. Staying in her bed, waking with her in the morning, was an intimacy he shared with no woman. In sleep, he was vulnerable. And he would never be vulnerable to a member of the female sex again.

  He walked across the room, kissed her simply on the forehead, and told her goodbye. Then he strode out of her bedroom quickly before she could get her hands on him. She was a feisty one. Some screamed when he left. Some cried. Many cursed at him. He was surprised at how many took him right back to their bed. But none tried to keep him there by force.

  Gordon met him outside with his customary disappointing glare. Sloan just smirked at him. He knew his adopted da hated his lifestyle. Frankly, he didn’t care.