know that baby isn’t yours,’ she’d spat. ‘There are papers who’d pay good money to hear about your infertility.’ And Sheridan knew of just the magazine reporter who would revel in the news. A payoff might have silenced her mother, but Sheridan was unwilling to take that chance. Mike had never liked Dorothy and was more than happy to comply. But killing Roz in cold blood . . . Could she be responsible for such a dark act?
‘Top-up?’ Daniel hung over her, waiting for her response.
‘Yes, please.’ She handed him her glass. Then again . . . Roz would never leave without the baby. What choice did she have? Mike would do her bidding, no questions asked. It would mean some heavy-duty covering up, but it was nothing that he wasn’t capable of. ‘I’ll do it after the baby is born.’ Sheridan took the glass from Daniel’s outstretched hand.
Easing himself back on to the sofa, Daniel picked up the TV remote control.
‘Let’s not talk about it any more. I’m going away next week. Induce her labour and plan it for then.’ It was a statement, not a suggestion.
‘But shouldn’t we discuss the worst-case scenario? What if we get caught?’ As she voiced her doubts, she felt the air cool between them. Her time for asking questions had come to an end.
‘You know what to do if the police get involved. Deny everything.’
But it was easier for Daniel to deny things when he was walking away from it all.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
SHERIDAN
‘You asked for my advice and I’m giving it. Ain’t my fault if it’s not what you wanna hear.’ Mike sounded more like a prison inmate than an ex-actor.
Sheridan folded her arms, hating every second in his cheap motel room. Each inhalation brought the stale smell of nicotine, which competed with the stench of beer lingering on Mike’s breath. She wanted to go home, to strip out of her dress and shower, but this was not a conversation she could have on the phone.
‘Couldn’t I ask Dr Blumberg? Don’t you think he’ll go along with it?’
‘Keep him out of it. If he asks any questions, tell him Roz got cold feet and ran away.’
‘But you’re no doctor. How can you help?’ Sheridan slid her long silver necklace between her fingers, wishing there was an easier way.
Mike snorted. ‘When you’ve spent as long in prison as I have, you make contacts. You learn how to survive. I’m sorry, Sherry, I don’t like this any more than you, but it’s the only way.’
Sheridan played with the tassel on the chain as she contemplated his words. ‘But inducing labour. How would we go about it?’
‘How do you do think? Drugs,’ Mike replied, sitting on the faded fabric arm of the sofa, which had seen better days.
‘But what about the labour . . .’ Sheridan said, her eyes wide as memories of Kelly came into play. ‘What if it goes wrong?’
‘Then you call Dr Blumberg. But only if there’s a risk to the baby’s life.’
Sheridan felt her skin creep as Mike leaned over, felt the heat of his gaze on her skin.
‘You’ll need a backstory if the cops find out that she was in your home,’ he continued. ‘Better to have them think she’s still alive.’
But something niggled at the back of Sheridan’s brain. Something that told her it wouldn’t work. She tuned back in to Mike’s words, tried not to cringe when he placed his hand on her back.
‘Film Roz having the baby, make out she backed out of the deal and you sent them both home. Have her say it on camera if you can.’
‘Right,’ Sheridan agreed. It always came back to setting the scene. Daniel would not object to having a camera present at the birth, now that he had lost all interest in Roz. But Sheridan would only film what she wanted to film.
‘Put a story together,’ Mike continued. ‘Make the room nice. You don’t want marks on her wrists or face. Treat her good. Make her happy. Understand?’
Sheridan nodded. After everything that had happened between her and Roz it was a big ask. But the girl was desperate to keep her baby and go home. Sometimes when you want to believe something so badly you cast aside all common sense.
‘Make it a nice moment,’ Mike said. ‘Buy her a plane ticket home. Dress in her clothes and pose as her leaving the building if you have to.’
‘I can’t . . .’ Sheridan gave a heavy sigh as she recalled the reason