KELLY PUSHED OPEN the door to Maria’s room, hurried inside and took a quick look around. The room was neat, as expected. Interestingly, no photographs on the chest of drawers or nightstand. Did Maria have a life outside of Wentworth Villa?
The view out the window was to a driveway. Ocean views were reserved for the rooms of guests, not staff.
Kelly took a deep breath and moved into the bathroom, the most likely place to find meds. She had plenty of time for a thorough search. Maria was with Trey on the Drop Shot, and he would call her cell to warn her when they were done there.
Would the prescription bottles be hidden? Trey claimed to have never visited Maria’s quarters, but there were other staff members and all kinds of security personnel roaming the villa, including Hans, so the housekeeper might be cautious. Secretive about a nasty habit.
Kelly opened the medicine cabinet and her gaze immediately zeroed in on a package of birth control pills halfway through a cycle. The prescription, dated two weeks ago, was for Maria Navarre. Interesting. So Maria was sexually active. According to Trey, she got one day a week off and usually took a late ferry to Miami after dinner the night before, returning the following evening about the same time. She hadn’t taken a day off since the abduction, but under normal conditions did she meet a lover once a week?
No other meds, either marked or unmarked, were in the cabinet. Plenty of skin creams, though, hairbrush, comb, mouthwash, toothpaste and brush. Kelly shut the door and squatted to look underneath the vanity where she found clean towels and a large plastic container of multivitamins, the type you get at a warehouse club. She opened the cap and sniffed. Definitely that familiar vitamin smell, but she pocketed a tablet for possible testing.
Finding nothing else of interest or suspicious in the bathroom, Kelly moved back into the bedroom. A search of the closet, including the pockets of clothing, revealed nothing. The drawer in the nightstand contained magazines and books printed in Spanish.
She began a search of the six-drawer dresser. In the bottom drawer on the right, beneath a neatly folded stack of T-shirts, she discovered a plastic shopping bag from a well-known department store stuffed with orange prescription bottles. She removed one of the containers to read the label, and the pills rattled inside.
Oxycodone. One hell of a lot of oxycodone. Trey paid Maria a good wage, but perhaps not enough to keep up with her habit. Sorry that her suspicions had proved correct, Kelly shook her head and set an empty container aside.
So much for her perfect peaceful day.
Continuing to search beneath the clothing, she found a frame face down and flipped it over.
The face of Jason’s kidnapper sneered back at her. Adam looked younger, less gaunt, but no question she was staring at the man who had blown up her car.
* * *
TREY STARED AT the photograph Kelly placed on his desk. She’d discovered this frame hidden in Maria’s room and insisted this was one of the men who had kidnapped Jason.
“You’re certain?” he asked. But he knew. Kelly was too smart, too competent to make a mistake on something as important as this.
“Yes.”
He picked up a plastic bag she’d also found. “That’s a lot of pills.”
“The bottles are empty.”
Trey met Kelly’s gaze. “You were right.”
“Where is she?”
“In her room. I told Hans to keep an eye on her.”
“That’s one good thing about this island,” Kelly said. “She can’t run, at least not very fast.”
“How could she do this?” Trey demanded. A terrible rage ignited in his gut, pulling him out of the shock Kelly’s words and their meaning had created. A woman he had trusted to run his home and care for his son, a woman he’d treated like family, had betrayed him. Maria had caused Jason’s regression. Would his son ever be right again? He picked up the photograph again and stared at it.
“This man could have killed Jason.”
“She’s sick, Trey. Addiction is a disease.”
“I don’t care. I want her out of my home.”
She nodded. “Agent Ballard will be here in about two minutes. He’s flying in on a Bureau chopper.”
“You called the FBI?”
“I had no choice. I actually got worried he’d arrive before you two returned from the boat. I didn’t want him to show up without you knowing what was going down.”
“Will he arrest her?”
“He’ll read Maria her rights and question her first, but, yes. I have no doubt she’ll be cuffed and arrested. She’s just as guilty as the two men.”
Trey collapsed into his chair. “I can’t believe this.”
“Focus on the fact that with Maria’s help, Jason’s kidnappers should be off the street soon.”
“What if she doesn’t help?”
“She will. Especially when she can’t get her meds in jail. She’ll do anything to help herself.”
Trey shook his head. “I never doubted her loyalty for a second. She had a black eye, for God’s sake.”
“No doubt they slugged her to make it look good,” Kelly said. “Jason might be a child, but he could tell what happened.”
“Jason.” Trey closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. Losing Maria would be another blow to his son. On top of Kelly leaving tomorrow.
“I know,” she said softly.
“What can we tell him?”
Kelly bit her bottom lip. “Maybe we can ask the new shrink how to handle it.”
“Good idea.”
“Do you want to be present for the questioning?” Kelly asked.
“Yes,” Trey said, staring at the photo again. “I want to hear her explanation.”
He looked up at a knock on the door. Agent Ballard entered the office and went directly to Kelly to shake her hand. “Good work, Officer Jenkins.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Ballard turned to Trey. “Wentworth.”
Trey nodded at the agent.
“Is that the photograph?” Ballard asked, his gaze falling to the frame on the desk.
Trey handed the photograph to the agent who studied it.
“No question that’s one of the kidnappers,” Kelly told him.
Ballard nodded. “Where is our suspect?”
Trey called Hans’s cell. “I need to speak with Ms. Navarre. Escort her to my office.”
“Will she come willingly?” Ballard asked in the silence that followed.
“She doesn’t know anything is wrong,” Trey said.
When Maria entered his office, Trey could hardly stand to look at her. Where he’d once seen a trusted member of his household, he now saw a snake in the grass waiting to lunge with a fatal strike. Even the black eye, supposed proof of her loyalty, had faded.
“Yes, Mr. Wentworth?” she said, casting nervous glances to each of the people in the room.
“Maria, this is Agent Ballard from the FBI. He wants to ask you some questions.”
Maria turned to Ballard. When her gaze zeroed in on the frame in the agent’s hand, her eyes went wide and she raised a hand to her mouth as if to stifle a scream.
She bolted for the door.
Trey jumped to his feet, but Hans blocked her exit, and Kelly quickly moved to assist.
“No! Please.” Wild-eyed, trapped, Maria turned back to the center of the room, tears streaming down a face distorted with the agony of knowing she was caught. Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Ballard pulled her arms behind her and snapped plastic restraints around her wrists. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Maria closed her eyes as if trying to block out the world. Trey tried to muster sympathy but couldn’t. She’d forfeited any right to his pity by endangering an innocent child.
“Do you understand these rights?” Ballard asked when finished.
“Yes,” Maria whispered. “I understand.”
Head down, shoulders slumped, Maria looked like a stranger to Trey as Ballard led her to a chair before his desk.
When she was seated, Ballard placed Adam’s photo on the desk and slid it toward her. “We want to know the location of this man.”
She raised her head from the photo and met Trey’s gaze with a pleading look.
“Why, Maria?” Trey demanded. “For God’s sake, why?”
“I never meant for Jasonito to be hurt.”
“I trusted you with my son.”
She looked away. “I needed money.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for it?” Trey said.
“I was afraid. Adam told me...” She shook her head as she trailed off.
“What did he tell you?” Ballard demanded.
“He told me a lot of lies,” she whispered.
“Where is he, Maria?” Ballard demanded again, tapping the photograph.
Maria took a deep breath and nodded. “I will tell you everything.”
* * *
WHEN KELLY ENTERED her station house the next morning—thankfully on time—she had so much to think about she couldn’t concentrate on one issue. She was itching to know what was going on with Maria, but hadn’t heard from Ballard since the arrest. He’d promised to keep her in the loop, but of course he hadn’t. Jerk.
But she had other problems, worse problems. Trey had been devastated by Maria’s betrayal, and she’d ached for him last night after Ballard took the housekeeper away, and had lain awake in bed for hours tempted to go to him, make love to him to make him feel better. To make them both feel better.
And what did that say about her? She was in way too deep. Tonight would be her last night at Wentworth Villa, although Trey would no doubt use Maria’s absence as leverage to get her to stay and comfort his son. She had to resist any persuasion he might use.
She needed to return to reality. Until a week ago, being a cop had been all she cared about.
“Hey, Kelly.”
Kelly refocused and smiled at Sean O’Malley, a friend and fellow rookie from her class.
“How’s it going, Sean?” He’d been part of the study group created by her, Patrice, Lana and Dale Baldwin, another trainee.
“Can’t complain,” Sean said. “Although nothing like your life these days.”
Kelly paused. She’d always liked Sean, but why was he grinning at her so strangely? In fact, as she became aware of her surroundings, everyone was staring at her, looking away quickly when she made eye contact. That many people acting squirrelly couldn’t be her imagination. What was going on?
Lana appeared and grabbed her elbow. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay,” Kelly said, pushing open the locker room door. “What’s up?”
“Wait,” Lana said, her voice low and urgent. “Before you...”
Kelly heard laughter as her gaze zeroed in on a large photograph stuck to her locker. A photograph of her on the deck of Trey’s yacht. Holding a margarita. Wearing her bikini.
Beneath a three-inch headline that screamed Wentworth Heir Picks New Mother, on the front page of The National Intruder.
“They wouldn’t let me take it down until you saw it,” Lana said.
Kelly marched into the locker room, ripped the newsprint off her locker and stared at it.
“Is this real?” she demanded.
Lana followed her inside. “There’s one in the men’s locker room, too.”
“But is this really the front page of this stupid tabloid or did someone Photoshop it to haze a rookie?”
“It’s real,” Lana said. “Today’s edition. Someone bought a stack of Intruders and placed them in the break room.”
“Oh, my God,” Kelly breathed.
Patrice appeared at her side. “At least you look good, girl. I gotta say I understand why Wentworth wants to keep you around.”
“Jenkins.”
Kelly looked up at the barked command. Sergeant McFadden lurked at the door of the locker room.
“A moment of your time, please, Officer.”
Kelly crumpled the paper into a tight ball and slammed it into a trash can as she moved to the door, her heart pounding. But McFadden passed his own desk and marched her straight into Lieutenant Marshall’s office.
A copy of The National Intruder lay on Marshall’s desk.
She stood at attention before her lieutenant, her gaze straight ahead. How bad was this going to be?
“That will be all, Sergeant,” Marshall said.
When the door closed, Marshall said, “As you were, Officer. In fact, why don’t you sit.” Marshall motioned to a chair.
Kelly gratefully collapsed into the padded seat, but kept her spine as erect as she could manage.
Marshall held up the front page. “I take it you’ve seen this?”
“Just now, sir. I haven’t read the text.”
“They have your name and the fact that you are a Miami-Dade County police officer. The story suggests you’re involved in the payoff scandal being reported by the Miami Herald.”
“What? That’s impossible. I never even patrolled the district involved.” She gaped at her lieutenant. Surely he didn’t believe such a ridiculous fabrication.
“Understood, but you’re living on the most expensive piece of real estate in the county.”
Kelly swallowed, tasting something bitter.
“Paparazzi are also surrounding police headquarters downtown,” Marshall continued. “Brass isn’t happy.”
“I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“Can you explain this photograph?”
“Yesterday was my day off. Wentworth took his son out on his boat and asked me to go with them.” She shrugged. “Another boat went by and its occupants snapped photos with their phones. I had no idea one would end up on the front page of a tabloid.”
“This photo is from an expensive long range lens,” Marshall said. “Not a cell phone.”
She’d assumed the photo was courtesy of the idiots who had zoomed too close to Drop Shot, but remembered the boat anchored in the distance. Had they been paparazzi?
“Of course, your private life is your own business, Officer Jenkins. You can date whoever you want.”
“Sir, I’m not dating Wentworth. Yes, I’ve been pretending to be his son’s mother, but that ends tonight.”
Marshall’s brows went up. “You’re leaving his residence?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The son has regained his memory?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“You’re sick of being the guest of a billionaire?”
“I just want my life back.” But is it already too late?
Marshall nodded and stared at her as if he knew precisely why she was leaving. The fact that she’d wear a skimpy bikini in front of Trey obviously left the wrong impression. She could have worn her competition swimsuit.
“That’s probably a wise choice,” Marshall said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Because of the corruption allegations, the department has no choice but to take this report seriously. Internal Affairs has opened an investigation.”
“Oh, my God,” Kelly breathed. Internal Affairs? This couldn’t be happening.
“As of today, you’re off patrol, Officer Jenkins,” he said in a firm voice, one that told her there would be no discussion.
“Off patrol, sir?”
“You’ll have to ride a desk until IA completes their investigation.”