Mabel Sanders and Arthur McDoyle stared daggers at each other as they each tried to stare the other down. As far as Mabel Sanders was concerned, Arthur McDoyle was being a greedy little knucklehead and he was too blinded by his greed to be able to see it, but she was quite fine and she wouldn't let him ruin all her good work so far. She knew Michael Bolton was most certainly not sitting quietly on hoping to hear from some kidnappers especially when he had enemies like Thomas Bolton and his new son Richard. No. The man was most certainly in some room with his best human haunting dogs putting together a plan to begin to sniff his heir out and she wanted to give him the easy way out as soon as possible and be done with the whole affair, but no, the walking sack of bones and meat she had made the foolishly mistake of teaming up with was insistent on demanding an excessively ridiculous amount. She looked at the man opposite her with his jaw set in a stubborn line and his eyes fixed stubbor

"Well that went to shit rather fast," Richard said when Thomas silently and calmly dropped his phone beside him on the chair. He had only witnessed Thomas' end of the call but he could tell from what he had heard that the call had in no way achieved the goal he'd had in mind for it to achieve. If anything, things between Thomas Bolton and Michael Bolton had probably just gotten more heated and strained and Michael Bolton was probably ordering his minions to look for anything to tie himself and Thomas to this business of Chris' disappearance and Richard didn't like the thought of it one bit. He looked over at Thomas with irritation. The old fool couldn't just hold back his foul tongue for a few seconds, could he? For Pete's sake!!!!! All he had freaking had to do was bite back his foul tongue for a few seconds and establish both their innocence to Michael Bolton and then offer to give any resources they could to ensure Chris Bolton returned safely, but no! Oh no, Thomas Bolton was too

Mabel Sanders drove straight to her normal hospital, careful to watch and observe closely if she would see anything out of the ordinary, like a car that had been behind her and stayed on her route for a long time, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. As she drove she tried to come up with an excuse to give the receptionist at the hospital as to why she needed to make use of their phone. She got to the hospital and parked her vehicle at the parking lot then brought out her phone to quickly memorize Arthur's number. She was about to step out of the car when she caught sight of the bag she had packed in the morning. Would she still need it? She was sure no car had tailed her. She would just leave it behind and go about her movement as she was supposed to. She opened the door to step out then as a last minute decision she turned and grabbed the bag. She would just play it safe and go with the other plan. She walked into the hospital and walked up to the receptionist's station with he

Sitted impatiently at the bask sit of the speeding cab but also preferring to remain composed, Mabel Sanders tried her best not to betray any signs of nervousness. Something was certainly wrong. She could feel it really deep within her but she couldn't quite place her hands on what it was. Unconsciously, she took her right hand to her mouth and bit down on its thumb nail. This operation had certainly gotten complicated and there was no way it would still go as smoothly as she had planned. She should never have gone home the previous night. If she had just ignored her need for comfort then the money would probably be sitting in beautifully in her account already. There was no need crying over spilled milk now though. She would just have to keep hoping that everything was fine and would turn out fine and this nervousness she was feeling was just a result of the fact that she was late and she knew it could jeopardize the success of the whole operation she had worked hard to put together.

Rose walked up to Michael Bolton and without a word he turned around and walked into the mansion and headed towards the stairs and she just followed after him. He didn't seem to be in a good mood and she wondered why. Had she done something wrong during the operation? She knew he had demanded to be kept connected over a call and she had dom just that, disconnecting him only when she had to ditch out instructions and when they had arrived at the inn and they'd had to go in, which when she thought about it, had also been part of his instruction; he had clearly said she could disconnect him when she absolutely had to. She looked up at his stiff back as she quietly followed after him. He seemed unually rigid and emotionless. Had Monica informed him about her refusal to look around for clues that could lead them to whoever had done this? No. Monica was too much of a close friend to do that to her. Wait. What if she had done it out of spite and anger because of how she had firmly refused he