Dark Room (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 2)

“Huh?” Monty’s brows drew together. “Oh, when I said there was a break in the case, you thought I was referring to the Winters’ case. Sorry. We got our signals crossed. But now that you brought it up, I did trace Margo Adderly. Unfortunately, the poor woman died seven years ago. Cancer. So I won’t be able to get her side of the story you told me.”

As Monty spoke, Arthur’s expression went from puzzled to annoyed to angry. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“No game. A break in the case, as I said. Just a different case. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

“No, I don’t want a drink.” Arthur made a move to rise. “I’m leaving.”

“You might want to hold off a minute.” Monty angled his head toward the back room, which he used for storage. “Karly, come on in,” he called. “We’re ready for you.”

Shoulders squared, head held high, Karly marched into the sitting room. She looked as she had when Monty first met her—put together, impeccably groomed, designer slacks and sweater—a class act.

Clearly, Arthur didn’t recognize her. “Karly,” he repeated, rising on instinct. “As in Karly Fontaine—the woman who reported the hit-and-run?”

“One and the same,” Monty supplied.

“Then this does concern Morgan.” Arthur stuck out his hand. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh, you’ve met.” Monty looked amused as Karly eyed Arthur’s hand as if it were a dead mouse, making no move to clasp it. “Although her hair was darker and longer then, and she couldn’t afford an outfit like the one she’s wearing now. So I’ll refresh your memory. This is Carol Fenton. The woman you impregnated, paid off, and booted out seventeen years ago. Ring a bell?”

Arthur was working like a demon to retain his poker face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. What you don’t know is that Carol—Karly—opted to have the baby rather than the abortion. She had your son, put him up for adoption, and had no idea who he’d become or where he was—until now. And, before you ask, this isn’t an extortion attempt. Karly doesn’t want a dime. Quite frankly, she never wanted to see you again, even after her career brought her back to New York. But circumstances have changed all that.”

“What circumstances?” Arthur managed, his jaw working a mile a minute.

“Remember Jonah Vaughn—you know, the great kid who’s Lane’s assistant and who you taught how to heli-ski the other day?”

“Of course—so?”

“I’m sure Lenny told you that Jonah’s in the hospital with internal bleeding and a lacerated spleen. He’s also got a rare blood type, one that’s hard to find a compatible match for.”

“Yes, he told me. I wish Jonah the best. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, wouldn’t you know it? It turns out Jonah is your natural son. Small world, huh? Problem is, Karly’s blood is A positive—and not a match with Jonah’s AB negative. So that leaves you.”

“I…” Arthur’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “I won’t be blackmailed into any admissions, much less—”

“This isn’t blackmail. It’s a negotiation. Here are your options, as I see them. One: You can get tested anonymously. We’ll arrange for a technician to come to your home, your office, wherever you want, and draw your blood. Hopefully, you’ll be AB negative and the cross-matching will say it’s a go. Jonah needs an immediate transfusion. His blood count’s low. If you’re compatible, you’ll provide that transfusion, or as many transfusions as are necessary to help your son. In return, Karly will sign a confidentiality agreement, promising to keep your identity a secret.”

Monty paused to take a quick swallow of beer. “Option two,” he continued. “You can refuse, risk Jonah’s life, and Karly will release the entire story to the press. She’ll begin with your sexual involvement with a minor—which was statutory rape, by the way—and conclude with the fact that you’re now willing to let your own son die. As an aside, statutory rape, given that Karly was sixteen and you were way older than twenty-one, is rape in the third degree, which is a class E felony. It would have been punishable by three or four years in prison, except that it has a five-year statute of limitations. That having been said, you might escape criminal prosecution, but I doubt Congress would want a statutory rapist around. You’d be forced to step down, your family would suffer pain and humiliation…I don’t know, Congressman. Option one sounds pretty good to me. Of course, the choice is yours.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Just us and Karly’s counselor, who’s bound by client privilege. Karly didn’t involve a lawyer yet; she’s willing to let yours draw up the necessary papers.”

Arthur gave a humorless laugh. “Very gracious. Unfortunately, all this is going to leak out anyway. Some smart-ass reporter will lie, steal, or claw his way into the hospital database, get what he needs, pay off the right people until he gets all the essential pieces, and before long this story will be front-page news.”

“You’re probably right.” Monty didn’t insult Arthur by refuting his statement. “But if you offer a blood sample of your own volition, then provide a transfusion if it’s medically possible, the only things that smart-ass reporter can dig up is the fact that years ago you committed an indiscretion, had a child, and made sure he was adopted by a loving family. Karly will back up that claim. So it will seem like you two made that decision together. She’ll also say you had no idea she was underage. That entire backstory will be eclipsed by the fact that you’d be coming forward now to save your child’s life. Hell, you’d come off like a hero.”

“Tell that to Elyse.”

“Your family’s another story. I’d suggest filling them in immediately, so they’re prepared. For what it’s worth, I think your wife would forgive you anything. But the way you handle her, Jill, and Morgan is up to you. So what’s the verdict?”

Bitterness glinted in Arthur’s eyes. “What do you think? I’ll have the papers drawn up first thing tomorrow.”

“Please, Arthur.” Karly spoke up for the first time, her body taut with suppressed anger, but her tone emanating the selfless plea of a mother. “His anemia’s getting worse. If the wound doesn’t heal on its own, he’ll need surgery. Can’t you reach your attorney tonight?”

“Probably not.” Arthur’s gaze shifted to Karly. “But I’m not a monster. I won’t jeopardize Jonah’s life for a piece of paper. The legalities can wait until morning. I’ll start the cross-match process tonight.” He turned back to Monty. “Give me an hour to talk to my family. Then send a medical tech over to my apartment. He can draw blood and rush it to the hospital. I can already tell you I’m AB negative. So, barring any unforeseen complications, Jonah will have his transfusion.”