KELLY DIDN’T HAVE any trouble finding the dining room when she descended the stairs at 6:00 a.m. All she had to do was follow the scent of bacon and freshly baked bread.
She took a deep breath. Yes, and there it was. Strong hot coffee.
Hurrying toward the lure of caffeine, she resisted the urge to rearrange the underwear Wentworth had provided. Damn, but these fancy thong panties were uncomfortable. Why did women wear them? There were some places that lace just shouldn’t go.
For sure she couldn’t work wearing this nonsense. She’d change as soon as she got home.
Kelly spotted Maria in the living room, but the housekeeper didn’t notice her. She was too busy struggling to open a container of what looked like prescription meds. But who didn’t have trouble with that childproof packaging?
Greta waited inside the dining room where, as promised, a buffet of hot and cold breakfast goodies awaited. This place was like a hotel.
“Good morning, Officer Jenkins.”
Kelly nodded. “Good morning, Greta.”
“Sit anywhere you like. Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please. Black.”
Kelly took a seat, and Greta immediately poured steaming hot liquid into the china cup at her place.
“Please help yourself to the buffet when you are ready,” Greta said. “Hans will be waiting for you out front when you are ready to go.”
“Is Jason up?” Kelly asked.
“Mr. Wentworth is in his room now with the doctor,” Greta said. “They should be down for breakfast soon.”
“Dr. Carico is here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Thinking the good doctor must be on some sort of retainer, Kelly glanced at the spread of food. Maybe she ought to make her escape while she could, but everything smelled too good.
She went to the buffet, grabbed a plate and heaped it with creamy eggs, crisp bacon, hash brown potatoes, grits, cantaloupe, a chocolate croissant—Lordy, way too much food. She couldn’t help herself.
Her typical breakfast, when she had time, was a bowl of cold cereal. Man, she really needed to get out of here. Another day in fantasyland and she wouldn’t be able to squeeze into her uniform.
She opened the newspaper Greta placed next to her coffee, and a headline screamed some nonsense about corruption inside the Miami-Dade Police Department, her employer. Kelly ate and read until the sound of little feet thundering in her direction interrupted her concentration.
She lowered the paper just before Jason launched himself into her lap.
“Mommy!” he shouted, throwing his arms around her neck.
Kelly gave Jason a hug, meeting Wentworth’s cold dark stare over his son’s head.
* * *
“JUST A FEW more days, Officer Jenkins.”
“And I said no.”
Trey paced the dining room as he glared at Kelly. Carico had taken Jason to his playroom so he could talk privately with the officer. He needed to find a way to convince her to stay. What could he offer? He was usually good at persuading people, but this woman was adamant.
“All I’m asking is a little more time to give Dr. Carico a chance to treat Jason, to get his head on straight again.”
“What you’re asking will jeopardize my career.” Kelly shook her head. “I’ve worked too long and hard for that.”
“You can commute from here. I’ll put my staff at your disposal to make sure you don’t miss any work.”
“Great. So I show up at my station every day in your limo?”
“We can bring your car here. Or you can use one of mine.”
“Which will take twice as long because of that stupid ferry.”
“So we’ll use the Wentworth Industries helicopter.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, that’s an awesome plan. I can hear my sergeant now.”
“I’ll talk to your sergeant, explain the situation.”
She looked away. “How can it be healthy for your son to continue to believe I’m his dead mother? He’ll have to face the truth eventually. Why put it off?”
“Dr. Carico believes we should ease him into the truth gradually or risk damaging him further.”
“That sounds like quack talk to me.”
“Because you’re such an expert in child psychology?”
Her jaw tightened. Great. Trey stopped moving and placed his hands on the back of a chair to get control of his own temper. He needed her on his side. No, on Jason’s side. What could he say to convince her?
Hard to believe this was the same woman he’d spoken to at the pool last night. She’d seemed softer somehow, but maybe it had been her lack of clothing and the killer body. He’d been sorry when she covered up. Kelly Jenkins was a beautiful woman, one who never played up that beauty. She even tried to hide it.
But how could she be so unfeeling? She’d spent time with Jason. She knew how desperate he became whenever she left him.
Not meeting his gaze, she lifted her coffee and took a quick swallow.
“Look, I don’t want to insult you by offering you cash again, but—”
“Then don’t.” Her cup clattered to the saucer.
“So I’ll donate money to your favorite cause or charity, help out your mom or your great aunt. Give to the Police Benevolent Association. Pay off your student loans.”
Kelly stared into her empty cup. “Contrary to your obvious belief, Wentworth, money cannot solve all problems.”
Trey sucked in a breath. This woman had no idea how well he understood that painful truth.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to persuade you to stay.”
She raised her startling blue gaze to his wordlessly.
“He’s just a mixed-up little boy who misses his mother,” Trey said. “Can’t you find it in your heart to help him a little longer?” Maybe she didn’t have a heart.
She closed those eyes.
“I’ll make certain you don’t miss any more work,” he added.
“All right,” she said. “You win.”
Trey exhaled forcefully, relief making him want to hug her. He could just imagine the reaction that would get. “Thank you.”
“I’ll give you another day, maybe two. But nothing you do or say can make me blow off another shift. In fact, I need to leave right now or risk being late.”
“Greta,” Trey called out.
Greta materialized at the door, having obviously listened to every word of his exchange with Kelly.
“Hans is waiting in the limo out front,” she reported.
“Go,” Trey said to Kelly. “I’ll explain to Jason that you had to work.”
Kelly rose and moved toward the front door.
“But I can tell him you’re coming back tonight, right?” Trey asked.
She whirled on him. “I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“It’ll be late, though, probably around seven or eight. After my shift, I’ll need to go home to pack some clothing. Do whatever it takes so I can drive my car onto the ferry.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to send the limo?”
“I don’t want to be trapped on this island without wheels.”
“You can use one of my vehicles whenever you want.”
She shook her head, and Trey raised both hands to indicate he’d back off. Kelly obviously had a stubborn streak as deep as his father’s.
“We’ll hold dinner for you,” he said.
A smile threatened her mouth, a rare occurrence.
“One thing’s certain,” she muttered. “I sure as hell won’t starve.”
* * *
CURSING BECAUSE THE scene with Jason and then the tug-of-war with his father had taken so much time, Kelly unlocked her third-floor apartment and hurried toward her bedroom. No way could she be late today. She’d only given in to Wentworth because she kept seeing Jason’s puffy, tear-streaked face in her mind’s eye, hearing his sad voice begging her to stay. How could anyone say no?
The poor little guy had enough troubles without her adding to them.
A quick look around told her nothing had been disturbed. She had no pets or plants to suffer during her absence yesterday. She paused after tossing her clothing into the hamper. What did that lack say about her life?
That she was a dedicated cop. That’s what. She had no time for anything else.
Except now, apparently, Jason Wentworth and his father.
She’d already showered at Wentworth’s castle, so she pulled a clean uniform out of her closet. After dressing—and thankfully disposing of the lacy thong—she strapped on her duty belt, which weighed close to twenty pounds, rearranged it on her hips and grabbed her car keys. She relocked her front door, pleased with how quickly she’d gotten ready. Even with all the delays, she’d still arrive at the station early for roll call. She’d come home after her shift to pack.
How much trouble would she be in for missing yesterday? Agent Ballard’s phone call should go a long way to smooth her absence with the brass—still, you never knew. The sketch artist said he’d heard talk of a commendation, so maybe she wasn’t in that much trouble.
And what could she have done differently? She’d been over yesterday’s events a hundred times, and she wouldn’t change a thing about what she’d done.
She moved across the deserted parking lot toward her car when a sudden movement caught her attention. Kelly tensed, unsure why her cop instincts roared into life.
She scanned the area. A figure stood under the trees to her right maybe fifty yards away. A man. Dark hair and clothing, six feet, thirty years old. Watching her through binoculars, his right wrist in a cast. She slowed her steps. Something about him rang a bell. She knew this man. Who was he?
Shit. It was Adam, one of Jason’s kidnappers. Surveilling her. He had binoculars. Did he have his gun? How did he know where she lived?
Kelly drew her weapon and aimed it at Adam in a two-handed grip. “Police. Stay right where you are.”
But of course he ran. Kelly lowered her weapon and hauled butt after him, but he had too much of a lead. He leaped into a waiting silver Corolla and disappeared in a roar.
Someone else was driving. Caleb?
She managed to get a partial tag. Breathing hard, she took out her notepad and jotted down three letters and one number.
She glanced back to her dirty white Ford, dread knotting her gut. Jason’s abductor knew where she lived. Did he know her vehicle? Had he been in her car?
No way was she getting inside until it’d been processed. Maybe they’d find fingerprints on the door handles that would lead them to Adam.
She had to call it in. Damn. She’d miss roll call again after all.
Before she could unclip her phone from her belt, an explosion boomed into the quiet morning, rocketing the hood of her car into the air.