Sheridan watched as George revealed the prayer book he had been holding in his hands. Stiffly, he approached, his mouth a thin white line of regret.
‘I found this in the church.’ Opening the book, he produced a folded scrap of paper inside. ‘I saw Roz slip it in when she was saying her prayers.’
Snapping the note from his outstretched fingers, Sheridan raced over the words.
My name is Roz Foley. I am being held captive. By Sheridan Sinclair – basement apartment. Please send help. The note ended with a phone number next to the name Dympna.
‘I don’t believe this.’ Sheridan’s mouth fell open at the prospect of the damage it could have caused. ‘What the hell . . . is she up to?’ Her words were staggered, disbelieving. ‘After everything we’ve done . . .’
‘She doesn’t know I found it,’ George replied, his knuckles white as he clasped the prayer book. ‘I thought you might like to deal with it yourself. Or if you prefer, we could say nothing – keep up the pretence that we’re friends.’
Sheridan turned to her husband, waving the piece of paper before his face. ‘Now do you see? She’s been scheming against us all this time.’ She shook her head in disbelief as Daniel said nothing in return. ‘I’m over in LA, working my buns off to get us sponsorship deals, when all the while you’re playing the good guy. How could you let her wander around New York? She’s pregnant with my child!’ Sheridan’s voice raised an octave. ‘What would it do to us if this got out? Our careers would be over. Don’t you get how serious this is?’
But when it came to Roz, Daniel was not one to apologise. ‘I sent George to keep an eye on her and that’s exactly what he did. What do you want me to do?’
‘That’s a discussion for later.’ Sliding the note into her dress pocket, Sheridan turned to George. Her voice lowered, she was back in control. ‘Do you know what’s really bothering me about all this? How quickly Roz got spooked. Anyone would think there was someone whispering poison in her ear.’ Stepping towards him, she nailed him with her gaze. In the background rose the crack and hiss of artificial flames. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?’
‘What? Me? Of course not. I’d never gossip about you.’
‘You say that, but Roz has been jumpy from day one. Why do you think that is? Do you know something I don’t? Does she?’
George inhaled a breath to speak, paused, then swallowed his words.
‘Spit it out,’ Sheridan replied. ‘Don’t hold back.’
‘Well . . .’ George continued. ‘She wants to go home. She thinks you’re keeping her prisoner. That’s why she’s so scared.’
‘Prisoner indeed,’ Sheridan snorted. ‘We’re making sure she sticks to the terms of the agreement, which was that she would stay here until the baby’s born. I’ve been photographed in public with a bump. I’ve struck deals. She can’t leave now.’
George’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. ‘I think she’s worried about what will happen to her once the baby is born.’ He stood like an errant schoolboy, staring at the floor.
A dark chuckle left Sheridan’s lips. ‘And what do you think will happen to her, George?’ she said, approaching him. ‘What do you think I’m going to do? Gobble her up? Like we’re in some kind of fairy tale?’ She was enjoying playing with him. ‘How’s your mother these days?’
‘Not good. They’ve put her on new medication but the cancer’s spreading.’
‘Such a shame,’ Sheridan tutted, sounding anything but sympathetic. ‘But she’s comfortable, yes? In that nice private ward, being waited on hand and foot?’
‘Yes, very.’ George cleared his throat.
‘Do you remember what it was like before, when you couldn’t afford the medication? How you had to clean up after her? You wouldn’t want to go back to that again, now would you?’
George responded with a tight shake of the head.
Sheridan ran a manicured nail over the back of his shoulders. ‘She’s so lucky, having a son like you . . . unlike my mother. She wasn’t lucky at all.’ Her words hanging in the air, she monitored his expression for a spark of defiance. But there was only fear. Good. Satisfied, she turned on her heel.
‘Where are you going?’ Daniel called after her, delivering a warning glare. His annoyance at her game-playing was evident. It did not faze Sheridan. He shouldn’t have gone against her wishes in the