Rachel wanted to run to him, let him make this all go away. “They’re saying I kidnapped Owen.”

“What the fu—”

“Sir, you’re going to have to stand back.”

“Rachel didn’t kidnap her own kid.”

“Owen is not Miss Price’s biological child.”

Jason turned his glare on Ms. Brenner. “Who are you?”

The officers nudged Rachel into the elevator when it opened.

Jason started toward her again, Glen held him back. “I’ll be there with an attorney,” he told her as her eyes swelled with unshed tears. “Don’t say a thing.”

Once they were alone in the elevator, Officer Paton read her her rights.

Rachel sat in a room she’d only seen in the movies. A large, dark window screamed a single view from the opposite side, cameras pointed at her, and a heavy door kept her inside. The only saving grace was that she had yet to be fingerprinted or placed in handcuffs.

The police officers informed her that they would be forced to restrain her if she didn’t cooperate.

So many raw emotions coursed through her minute by minute. Disbelief came first, then crashing concern for Owen. Where was he? Was he okay? This had the Colemans written all over it. She wasn’t even given the chance to retrieve her purse and cell phone before they pulled her out of the office. Calling home to see if Owen was there wasn’t possible.

Taking Jason’s advice, she waited in the interrogation room while the social worker questioned her repeatedly. The only thing Rachel offered was the honest truth.

“I have not seen any paperwork from the court, any court, telling me I have restrictions on where I can take Owen. This is all a misunderstanding.”

“The Colemans believe you’re a flight risk, which mandates the court stop you from traveling more than a hundred miles until the matter can be solved.”

Rachel glared at the social worker while talking with the investigating officer. His name, she’d already forgotten. “Which I would have followed had I been told.”

“You were informed,” Ms. Brenner said from the corner of the room.

“Where is Owen?” Rachel asked.

“He’s safe.”

Rachel clutched her hands into tiny fists and kept them hidden in her lap.

“Why did you take Owen to Costa Rica?”

They were trying to catch her on something they could use against her. That was the point behind being told her Miranda rights. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

“I’d like to speak to a lawyer.”

The investigator sucked in a deep breath.

“It’s a simple question, Miss Price,” Ms. Brenner said.

“I have the right to an attorney, Ms. Brenner.” Being bullied by a social worker was not something Rachel was going to stand for.

“You took Owen out of the country to hide him from his father, knowing he will gain custody.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped. “I thought social workers were neutral parties that didn’t take sides.”

“Owen is my priority.”

Rachel lifted from her seat. “No. Owen is my priority!”

The officer stood, placed a hand in the air. “Ladies!” He turned to the social worker. “Miss Price has requested a lawyer, we will continue this when she’s obtained one.”

Once Ms. Brenner left the room, Rachel lowered her head to the table.

Alone in the room, adrenaline oozed from her system and left her in tears.

When the door opened again, the investigator entered, this time with a woman in uniform. “We’re moving you into holding.”

“Am I being charged?” Rachel asked.

“Not yet,” the woman told her.

Rachel knew enough to understand that was a good thing.

She was led to a phone, where she made her call. Unfortunately, she hadn’t memorized Jason’s number and she’d been told not to contact Owen. That left her with work. The direct line to Gerald’s office went unanswered, so she tried Julie.

“Julie.”

“Holy shit. What is going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you in jail?”

“I have one call, Julie. I don’t have Jason’s cell memorized. Can you get ahold of him?”

“Everyone left here the second they took you away.”

“Talk to his secretary. I need a lawyer.”

“I think that’s what he was screaming about. The legal team here is scrambling.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Rachel voiced her thoughts, looked around. “I’ve been told not to get ahold of Owen. I need to know he’s okay.”

“What’s his number?”

Rachel gave it to her. And then questioned if that was the right thing to do. “He needs to know I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

No! “I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Tell him I’m fine. This is all a huge misunderstanding that we will get worked out soon.”

“I will. Be careful in there.”

“Like I have a choice.”

A holding cell in the heart of New York was not where Rachel thought she’d be when she woke up that morning. For a Tuesday, the place was surprisingly packed. It wasn’t like it was the middle of the night or a weekend. The small cell closed behind her with a resounding click.

Two bone-thin women at the opposite end of the cell both eyed her up and down. Neither of them looked older than thirty, but both wore clothes much too skimpy for winter with worn-out high heel shoes.

“Miss Fancy Pants,” someone cackled.

“I bet you ain’t never been in here before.” The woman who spoke looked homeless.

Rachel looked around for a place to sit and decided standing was a better idea.

“What’s a matter, honey? Ain’t got nothin’ to say?”

Talk about being tossed into a den of snakes. “I’m having a shit day,” Rachel said to anyone listening.

Several women burst out laughing. “Ain’t we all, honey . . . ain’t we all!”

“Let me guess,” one of the skinny, worn women in the back said. “It’s all a misunderstanding and you ain’t guilty.”

That brought laughter a second time.

Telling this crowd she was guilty of taking Owen to Costa Rica for a week probably wouldn’t earn her any respect.

Instead of saying anything back, Rachel leaned against the bars of the holding cell and prayed Jason would arrive soon.

Chapter Twenty

This was a first.

Jason’s experience with the legal system was only on the level of corporate paper pushing and covering one’s ass. As his attorneys quickly informed him, they weren’t proficient at criminal representation but had a handful of high profile attorneys who would jump.

Clive Redshaw walked alongside Jason’s attorney up the steps of the police station.

After introductions were out of the way, Clive jumped right into his questions.

“I have no idea what they could possibly be holding her on. We went to Costa Rica following the downing of one of my planes. She took Owen since I needed her with me.”

“Owen is the child she has legal guardianship over.”

“He is fifteen, but yes.”

“That’s all you know?”

Jason hesitated. “I know Owen’s grandparents have been rattling on about Owen staying with them.”