“You-you’re having the kid?” It was the first voice- Jason-and all the aggression was gone. “It’s Jenny, isn’t it? I recognize you now. Heck. You want me to get my mom?”

“Thanks, Jason, but I think I need a hospital more than your mom.” Jenny was allowing the tremor in her voice to grow. “If Mr. Lord would only get back…”

That was a cue if ever he heard one. Michael emerged from the shadows, carrying her suitcase.

“Mr. Lord.” Jenny practically fell on his neck. “You took so long.”

“Is it getting worse?” Following her lead, he appeared not to notice the youths.

“Two minutes apart,” she said, clutching her back and grimacing. “I’m having a bad one now. Please…let’s go.”

Michael threw the case in the back and climbed into the car. His face was grim. “Yeah, right.”

“Good luck,” one of the boys said, and Michael looked up as if he’d only just noticed him.

“Thanks.”

“I meant the lady,” the boy said, and as the car started, he added, “hey, don’t spit the kid out onto his leather seats, Jenny. You’ll be sacked for that, no sweat!”

There was good-humored laughter as they headed out of sight.

“THAT,” MICHAEL SAID carefully as they nosed onto the street, “was amazing.” He moved the car forward, not fast enough to draw attention-the Corvette got enough of that as it was-but fast enough to be out of there if anyone had followed him down the fire escape. “I thought there was going to be trouble. That was great acting.”

“Who said I was acting?”

He almost crashed. The car veered toward the wrong side of the road, and Jenny grabbed the wheel and chuckled. “Hey, okay, I was joking. Watch the road.”

His blood pressure lurched and settled, and he glared at the woman by his side. “Thanks for the advice.”

She dimpled. “My pleasure. Honest, though, there was no problem. They’re not bad kids.”

“Yeah?”