Page 44 of Payback

I sat on a plastic chair and stared at my loafers. When I had passed information about Peter Underwood’s gambling addiction to the Saturday Correspondent, it had set off a chain of events that had uncovered his father’s expenses fraud and created a national scandal.

“Are you alright?” Henry wrapped an arm around my back.

I nodded. “Just getting mentally prepared.”

The prison guards led us to a visitors hall, consisting of rows of plastic tables and chairs. Half the tables were occupied by male prisoners clad in gray sweatshirts and jogging bottoms. I looked around for the man who had abducted me, but I didn’t recognize anyone.

Charlotte’s shoulders tensed, and she walked to the far side of the room. Henry and I followed, my heart in my throat and pulsing so hard I thought it would burst.

I recognized the man who hugged Charlotte. Right now, he looked haggard with a fat lip and a fading bruise on his cheek, but I’d seen him before. He had opened the door for me in Chelsea Heights before I had gotten a chance to ring the apartment bell. He had probably been lying in wait for me the entire evening.

Peter Underwood’s brow lowered into a frown.“What’s she doing here?”

“Helping us,” Charlotte replied.

“Can she be trusted?”

“Philippe withdrew his financial assistance. We’re on our own.”

Surely she meant to say Rudolph? I opened my mouth to ask but clicked it shut. Watching and listening at this stage might give me the answers I needed.

Peter closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “Bastard.” He turned to me. “Will you pay for our lawyers? It’s the least you could do after leaking our family business to the press.”

I bristled, and Henry placed a comforting hand on my knee. That entitled prick was even worse than his sister. “Isn’t that a question for the secretary who went to the Correspondent with all that evidence against your father?”

His lip curled into an ugly sneer. “What are you here for, then?”

“I want to make a complaint against Rudolph Trommel for my abduction, but I won’t be able to prove anything unless I have witnesses. Are you willing to testify that you were working for him?”

He raised both shoulders and spread his arms wide. “I’ll say anything if it results in a lighter sentence.”

Frustration welled up in my insides. “Did you meet Rudolph?”

“No.” He gave his sister quizzical look. “I worked with Carbuncle and a man called Philippe, but I can say we worked with Rudolph if it will help me.”

My shoulders slumped. “No one will take you seriously if you fabricate claims that can be refuted with alibis,” said Henry. “Can you testify that Philippe was behind the abduction?”

“Yes, but I thought you were trying to pin this on Rudolph,” he replied.

“Philippe works for Rudolph,” said Charlotte.

Peter reared back and glowered at his sister. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

She dipped her head.

“Answer me!” he roared.

A fist clenched at my heart, and I winced. By instinct, I raised my arms to my chest. Peter Underwood hadn’t hurt me while I had been conscious, but being in his presence made my skin crawl.

One of the prison guards stepped forward, and Henry raised his palm. “It’s just a discussion that’s gotten out of hand.”

The guard stood over Peter. “Watch yourself.”

Peter’s nostrils flared. “If you had told me, I would have asked why a mogul would have his own stepdaughter kidnapped,” he said through clenched teeth. “I would also have asked why he would want photos of the girl plastered all over the papers to extort ransom money from himself.”

“Sorry.”

“You were so blinded by your hatred for the girl that you brought me into this harebrained plot. I thought it was a chance to pay off my debts with a bit extra to help Father, not a crusade to hurt another schoolgirl.”