‘Len?’ Nick said softly.

His head jerked up. He was so close to sleep… ‘Yes?’

‘You’re cold, boy.’ He pushed the reading chair forward-the only comfortable chair in the kindergarten. It was padded, with a high back, and he tossed a couple of cushions on for good measure. ‘It might take hours for the helicopter to arrive. If you’re not comfortable your muscles might cramp up and you’ll fall off your stool. Use this one.’ He pushed the chair against the window. Then, as Len hesitated, he threw a couple of blankets on top.

‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he suggested.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Len’s face was all suspicion.

‘If you fall off the stool, chances are that gun will go off,’ Nick said bluntly. ‘Then you’ll have every cop in the country storming in. Neither of us wants that.’ And then he grinned. ‘And you let us have pancakes.’

His smile was beguiling-even Shanni was beguiled, for heaven’s sake, and this man was a lawyer!-and it worked a treat. Len didn’t answer-he glared-but he grudgingly moved from his hard stool to the comfortable chair. And when Nick offered blankets, he threw them over his knees and almost managed a smile of thanks.

‘It’ll get better,’ Nick said, and Shanni practically gaped in astonishment at the sympathy in his voice. ‘This isn’t the end of the world, you know.’

‘What would you know about it?’ Defiance-but also fear.

‘I know you haven’t killed anyone. I know you’re young and young offenders don’t go to jail. They go to remand homes where, if they want, they can learn a trade. I know there’s a heart under that tough exterior…’

‘I can’t…’