“WHEN WILL MOMMY be home, Daddy?”
Sitting on the pool deck after a long romp in the water, Trey paused towel-drying Jason’s hair. This was the fourth time his son had asked about his mother in the last hour. Each time the question pierced him like a knife straight to the gut.
Jason showed no signs of regaining any memory of Darlene’s death. His son preferred to live in a world where his mother still breathed, and who could blame the kid.
“She’ll be home later, son,” Trey said. “After your nap.”
Jason yawned huge. “I don’t want to take a nap.”
“But you know you have to, right?”
Jase nodded, and Trey began briskly rubbing his head again. His son was exhausted but as usual would never admit it.
“Will Mommy be here when I wake up?” Jason asked from underneath the terrycloth.
Trey lowered the towel. “I can’t promise. She might have to work late.”
A confused look passed over Jason’s sweet young face. “I wish she didn’t have to work.”
“Me, too, buddy. But she wants to. She likes to work.”
“Why?”
“Why do you like to play in the pool?”
“’Cause it’s fun.”
“Well, maybe her work is fun, too.” But how could that possibly be true of police work?
“Come on. Let’s find Maria and get you into bed.”
When Jason was settled into his airplane bed, he looked up and asked, “Is Dr. Donna coming back today?”
“No,” Trey replied. “She’ll be here in the morning. Do you like talking to Dr. Donna?”
Jason yawned again. “She’s okay.”
Trey drew the drapes and moved to the door where he dimmed the overhead light. The frog night light illuminated his son’s bedroom with a soft green glow.
“Sweet dreams, buddy,” Trey said. He closed the door quietly and moved downstairs into his office.
With a vague intention of getting some work done, he sat at his desk. He was days behind on correspondence and reports, but couldn’t yet concentrate on the questionable decisions his father had been making lately. And he needed to pay attention. Allies on the board were worried the old man was seriously damaging Wentworth Industries.
Trey came to his feet and moved to the window. Was it the right thing to let his son continue to believe Kelly Jenkins was his mother? Dr. Carico insisted they should let Jason come to the realization his real mother was gone forever gradually, on his own.
That sounded great, but what if he never did?
Maybe it was time for a second opinion. He respected Donna, but this was his son’s life. He didn’t want to take any chances.
His phone rang. He’d been ignoring texts and calls all day to devote his time exclusively to Jason, but this was the ring tone he he’d programmed for Kelly Jenkins so he’d know when she called.
“Hello, Officer Jenkins,” he said.
“Hi. Listen, I’ve got a problem,” she said. “Is it possible you could send your limo to pick me up at my station at six after all?”
“Of course. I’ll tell Hans. What’s the problem?”
She hesitated before answering. “You haven’t talked to Agent Ballard?”
“I’ve been with Jason all day.”
“Ballard said he’d notify you.”
“Notify me of what?”
When she hesitated again, Trey closed his eyes, certain he was about to receive more bad news.
“What’s going on, Kelly?”
“The kidnappers somehow tracked down where I live and planted a bomb in my car.”
“What?” The word exploded out of his mouth. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’ll explain everything when I get there, but the FBI took what’s left of my car for processing, so I need you to send a ride. Okay?”
What’s left of her car? “But you weren’t injured?”
“I wasn’t inside when it blew. How is Jason?”
Trey shook his head. “He keeps asking where his mother is, when she’ll be home.”
“I’ll also need Hans to swing by my apartment and wait while I pack, but I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”
“Is that wise? You said the kidnappers know where you live.”
“The FBI has my apartment under surveillance.”
Trey snorted. “For all the good that will do.”
“I doubt the bad guys will go anywhere near the place now. And I need uniforms, clothing.”
“Right.” Sick of feeling helpless, Trey ran a hand through his hair. What could he do? He should be able to protect Officer Jenkins.
“Please be careful,” he said.
“I’m a cop. I’m always careful. But warn Hans just in case, okay?”
“Don’t worry about Hans. The man is ex-military. Nothing rattles him.”
“Still, he should know there’s a bull’s-eye on my back.”
And that target that had been planted there because she’d rescued his son. No question he owed her. “I’ll tell him.”
“Good. Listen, I’ve got to get back. Make sure Hans is here at six. I’ll be waiting at the back entrance.”
Trey immediately placed a call to the Protection Alliance, the security company he’d contracted to guard his son. Hans was a good man—trained in martial arts and more bodyguard than chauffeur—but Trey wanted one of PA’s people to accompany Hans when he picked up Kelly. He didn’t want to take any chances with Kelly’s life. His son needed her right now, and that meant he did, too.
After he explained the situation, Lola, PA’s office manager, promised to have another operative available within the hour to take the place of the one who accompanied Hans to get Kelly.
“Sounds like the bad guys want to eliminate a witness who can identify them,” Lola said.
“Is there any way you can have one of your people protect her while she’s on the job?” Trey asked.
“Isn’t she a cop?”
“Yeah, a rookie.”
“That would be tricky. Even a rookie would pick up a tail, and my operative would have the whole department on his ass.”
“What if I clear it with Officer Jenkins’s boss?”
Lola laughed, a throaty sound. “Yeah, you do that.”
Trey disconnected, his thoughts darting a thousand directions. The kidnappers had found Kelly and had tried to eliminate her. Did that mean they planned to make another attempt to snatch Jason? What else could he do?
His father wanted them to relocate back to Manhattan. Much as he hated that plan, maybe it was time to give a move serious consideration. Surely the kidnappers wouldn’t follow them, and he could get that second opinion on Jason’s condition without hurting Donna’s feelings.
But moving would mean tearing Jason away from Kelly Jenkins. Unless—was there any way he could convince her to go with them? Strangely, the thought of having her along didn’t seem quite as abhorrent as it had twenty-four hours ago.
But no. There was no way Kelly would ever consider accompanying him to New York, so Jason would lose his mother again.
Trey went to find Hans. His security team needed to know the stakes had just been upped.
* * *
KELLY WANTED TO wait for her sergeant. She really did. If Rudy McFadden needed to speak to her, she wanted to speak to him. He likely wanted to counsel her about her attendance, although she’d seen him around 5:00 p.m. when all units had converged on a call, and he hadn’t said a word about needing a conversation.
He was now hung up on a different incident, a domestic with about ten priors, and he might not return to the station for hours. She sent him a text and pushed out the back door. She’d talk to him tomorrow.
Wentworth’s limousine slid beside Kelly the second she entered the parking lot. Hans nodded at her through the windshield just as the limo’s back door swung open.
She blinked. How had he managed that? Some special billionaire remote control function? Kelly climbed inside and almost into the lap of another man.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded. She’d seen him before, talking to Wentworth on the pool deck last night.
“Scott,” he replied. “Your new bodyguard.”
“My what?”
“Mr. Wentworth is concerned about your safety.”
“I’m a cop,” she said. “I don’t need a protector.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Scott said, folding his beefy arms. “I’m sure that’s correct. Although there was some mention of an incendiary device in your vehicle.”
“He’s here to back me up,” Hans said from the front seat. “Give me your address.”
Back him up? Shaking her head, Kelly gave the address and remained silent for the rest of the trip. She figured Wentworth would hire extra security for Jason after the kidnapping, but she didn’t need a guardian.
When Hans pulled to a stop in front of her building, she said, “I’ll be quick,” and jumped from the car.
Scott came with her.
She whirled on him. “What are you doing?”
“Going with you.”
“That’s not necessary,” Kelly said, with a quick glance around. Was the FBI watching?
“You can’t talk me out of it, Officer,” Scott said. “I’m being paid to make sure nothing happens to you.”
“Fine,” she ground out. This was ridiculous.
They didn’t speak as the elevator ascended to her floor. Before she could jam her key into the lock on her door, Scott stuck out his muscled arm, bent over and peered at the mechanism.
“Does anything appear different, Officer?” he asked when he straightened up.
“I’m a trained officer, not an idiot.”
Scott nodded. “Unlock the door, but let me clear the room.”
After turning the key, Kelly stepped back and waved her arm with a dramatic flourish, indicating he could enter first. Scott drew a Sig Sauer from under his jacket, pointed it at the ground and entered.
Kelly folded her arms as she waited, hoping none of her neighbors came into the hallway. The thing she hated most in the world was feeling like a victim.
At the age of thirteen she’d made a solemn vow to never be anybody’s prey ever again.
Scott reappeared in the doorway. “You’re good.”
Refusing to give in to the snarky remark lurking on her tongue, Kelly entered and packed quickly, tossing underwear, socks and casual clothing into her ragged suitcase. She didn’t bother with toiletries since Wentworth had all anyone would need—oh, except her toothbrush. After adding that to the pile, she grabbed workout gear, her competition-style bathing suit and goggles, the book she was studying for the sergeant’s exam, which she intended to sit for as soon as she was eligible.
She grabbed clean uniforms from the closet, threw them over her arm and glanced around her bedroom. What was she forgetting?
“Are you ready, Officer?” Scott asked.
Her gaze fell on the gun locker she used for her service weapon. She stowed it inside her luggage and clicked the latches closed. “I am now.”
Scott grabbed the bag and hefted it easily. “Let’s move.”
Kelly wanted to snatch her suitcase out of the man’s hand, but followed him into the hallway.
This guy was just following orders, and she was a cop who understood chain of command. Her problem wasn’t with a guy doing the job he was being paid for.
Her problem was with Trey Wentworth.