“Have you considered Jason’s kidnapping could be an inside job?” she asked.
Ballard smiled. “You sound like a television police drama, Officer Jenkins.”
“Don’t be an ass,” she said. “You know I mean someone from Wentworth’s staff could be involved.”
His smile faded. “We’ve checked everyone out. Most have been with the family for years.”
“So how did the kidnappers get on the island? You know no one gets on a ferry without permission from an owner.”
“We’ve gone through the security logs and no one boarded the ferry without clearance.”
“That’s my point. Did you check with the marina? Maybe they came and went with their own boat.”
“Of course. No unauthorized dockings appear in the records.”
“How good is the security at the marina?”
Ballard hesitated. “Good, but not as tight as the ferry.”
“What about leaving the island? Does security check for clearance to board the ferry on the return trip?”
“I don’t know about that.” Ballard frowned. “Why would they?”
“Good question. Did you check out Wentworth’s driver, Hans somebody?”
“He’s clean, retired special forces.”
Kelly nodded. “Well, I’ve been living in this fantasyland, and I believe Adam had to have help from someone in-house. If assistance didn’t come from Wentworth’s inner circle, then employees of the management company. Or the security company. You need to check that out.”
Ballard eyed her thoughtfully. “We’ll go through it again.”
“Good. Can I return to duty?”
He nodded. “Thanks for coming in. We’ll be in touch. Are you still staying at Wentworth’s place?”
“For now.”
“Tell Wentworth we need to have a conversation.”
Kelly raised her brows. Great. Just what the world needed, more conversations.
* * *
KELLY’S SHIFT WAS over by the time she parked her unit at the station and entered the back door. She’d checked in on the drive south, and Rudy told her he’d be waiting for her in the roll-call room.
She pushed open the door and spotted Patrice by Rudy’s desk having an animated conversation of her own with their sergeant. As Kelly moved toward where they stood, they broke off and glanced her way.
“Hey, Kel,” Patrice said with a nod. “See you tomorrow, Rudy.”
Kelly stood at attention before her sergeant.
“Thanks for joining us, Officer Jenkins,” Rudy said. “Any luck with the FBI?”
“No, sir,” Kelly said. “They had the wrong guy.”
Rudy snorted. “Sounds like the feds. So what’s going on with you, Jenkins? You’ve missed a lot of time the last three days.”
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s because of the Wentworth kidnapping.”
“So you’re some kind of big-deal heroine, now, huh?”
She stood straighter and lifted her chin. “No, sir. Not at all, sir.”
“The kid is back with the father, right?”
“Yes, sir. However, Jason Wentworth has developed the deluded notion that I’m his mother.”
“Geez. Because you rescued him?”
“I guess, sir.”
“I see.”
Kelly could tell her sergeant didn’t see at all. He sat behind his desk and slid a yellow sheet of paper toward him. A trickle of unease traveled her spine. Was that a disciplinary memo? What happened to the commendation?
“Also,” she said, in an effort to help her case, “the kidnappers placed a bomb in my vehicle.”
“I heard something about that,” Rudy said. “I also heard a rumor you’ve moved into Wentworth’s mansion. Is that true?”
Kelly nodded, suspecting his source was Patrice. But her situation was no secret. “Yes, sir. Until they can get the kid straightened out.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“No way to know, sir.”
“Living on Collins Island with nothing but billionaires could be a big distraction for a rookie.”
“I won’t let it distract me, sir.”
“You’re off duty tomorrow and Friday, right?”
“Yes, sir. Unless you want me to come in and make up time.”
“No. I want you to take the days to get your head together.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rudy tore the paper once, twice and dropped the ragged pieces into his wastebasket.
“Okay, Jenkins. I’ll let your attendance issues slide for now, but consider yourself as having received a verbal warning. From now on, you need to be on time and complete your shifts.”
“I understand, sir,” Kelly said.
“You’d better, because I’ll be watching you.”
* * *
WHEN TREY’S LIMO rolled off the ferry, Kelly leaned forward and tapped on the window separating her from Hans.
“Yes?” A disembodied voice sounded over the intercom.
“Pull over,” she said. “I want to talk to the guards.”
Kelly exited the vehicle and walked toward the guard shack. A uniformed male, in his late twenties and Hispanic, watched her approach warily, no doubt surprised to see a uniformed policewoman emerge from a resident’s luxury limousine.
She’d first thought to jog over to speak to a guard on her morning run, but realized she’d get more cooperation if she were in uniform.
“Can I help you, Officer?” the guard asked. His badge read Carlos.
Kelly shook his hand. Carlos sounded friendly enough.
“Officer Kelly Jenkins. I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“You’re the policewoman who saved the Wentworth kid, aren’t you?” he asked. “We heard you were staying at the villa.”
“It’s only temporary,” she said. “Believe me.”
“You’ve become a legend around here,” Carlos said with a grin. “What do you need?”
Kelly motioned toward the ferry landing. “I’m assisting the FBI with their investigation and want to understand how your security works.”
“Sure.”
“A visitor can only board the ferry with prior clearance from a resident, right?”
“Absolutely, either on foot or with a vehicle, and they have to present valid ID.”
“So you always know what a visitor’s destination is?”
“Right.”
“Do you follow a visitor to make sure they actually go to that resident’s home?”
“Well, we always ask if they know where they’re going. If they don’t, we offer to lead them on one of our golf carts.”
“So you wouldn’t know if a visitor didn’t actually go where they say they’re going?”
Carlos frowned. “I guess that’s true.”
Kelly nodded. “What about on the return trip? Do you ID then?”
“Why would we? Any visitor has already been cleared.”
“Makes sense,” Kelly said, gazing at the ferry.
“However,” Carlos added, “we do check any bags carried by domestic workers who walk on the ferry to make sure they haven’t stolen anything.”
Kelly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. How insulting that must be for the workers.
“Are the guards employees of the island or a homeowners’ association?”
“We all work for the Protection Alliance.”
Carlos announced the name of his employer with a sense of pride.
“That’s a private security firm, right?” Kelly asked.
“Right,” Carlos said. “You’re trying to figure out how the kidnappers got on the island. Aren’t you?”
Kelly nodded. “Wh
o from Wentworth Villa can give permission for a guest to board?”
“Let me check,” Carlos said. He moved to the guard shack and returned with a clipboard. He flipped a few pages and said, “Of course Mr. Trey Wentworth, Alexander Wentworth—I believe that’s his father—Maria Navarre, plus Hans and Greta Karies.”
“Clearance is usually done by phone, right?”
“Usually,” Carlos agreed.
“How do you know the person on the phone is the person they say they are?”
Carlos looked blank for a second, and then grimaced. “Well, we check the number on caller ID, but I guess we don’t know for sure who is speaking. Do you want to talk to my supervisor about this?”
“Not necessary,” Kelly said. “You’ve answered all of my questions. Thanks very much.”
“Anytime,” Carlos said as they shook again.
Kelly moved back toward the limo where Hans leaned against the driver’s side door, watching her intently.
She shook her head. The security on this island was supposed to be the best in Miami, but as many as three of Trey’s staff could have given clearance for the kidnappers to board the ferry.
* * *
WHEN KELLY APPEARED in the doorway of the media room, the dread that had knotted Trey’s gut loosened its grip. Tonight, he’d been as anxious as Jason for her to return home.
Their gazes locked across the room. She smiled uncertainly, and then focused on Jason who lay on the floor transfixed by the television.
She’d already been up to her room and had changed out of her uniform into a Miami-Dade County Police T-shirt and blue jeans that hugged her long legs.
Trey held his breath, waiting for his son to notice her arrival. Trey prayed today was the day Jason returned to reality.
Kelly moved into the room. Jason looked behind him and then leaped to his feet.
“Mommy,” he cried, throwing his arms around her legs.
Trey sighed.
She bent over and hugged him. “Hi, Jason. Whatcha watching?”
Jason grabbed her hand and related the convoluted plot of his favorite cartoon, one he’d seen hundreds of times. Kelly appeared dazed by the end of the explanation.
“It’s almost over,” he said. “Then we’ll have dinner.” A doubtful expression clouded his precious face. “Unless you’re real hungry.”
“Go ahead and finish your movie,” Kelly said, and joined Trey on the sofa.
“Hi,” Trey said.
“So I guess I’m still Mom,” she said softly.
“It appears so.” Keeping his voice low so Jason couldn’t overhear, Trey asked, “What happened with the lineup at FBI headquarters?”
“They had the wrong guy,” Kelly said. “A giant waste of time.”
Trey released a breath. So Darlene’s father hadn’t kidnapped Jason. He should be relieved, but that meant the bad guys were still out there gunning for Kelly and maybe Jason again. Far better if Jeff Lawson had been their guy.
“Any problems today?” Trey asked. “More bombs or other incendiary devices?”
“No bombs,” she said. “But definitely some problems.”
“I hope just normal police work.”
Kelly glanced at Jason, but he was caught up in the cartoon. “I’m in trouble with my sergeant for missing duty.”
“What? You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“No.”
“Let me make a phone call.”
“Absolutely not,” Kelly insisted. “You’d only make it worse. I just have to keep my head down and do my job.”
Trey nodded. But he knew Kelly’s history now. She’d been through hell and back and had managed to come out on the other side a good person, someone who still wanted to help others. She’d worked two, sometimes three jobs at a time while attending a local university to study criminal justice, graduating with a damned good grade point average. It’d taken him longer to get through Princeton on his father’s dime, and he’d never worked a day while in school.
He couldn’t let the fact that Kelly had helped his son impact her career. He had to find some way to help her.
“Although,” she muttered, “it’ll be tough to fly under the radar when I’m delivered to work by a limo every day.”
“What about—”
Her eyes widened. “Please don’t suggest your chopper.”
“I was about to suggest Hans could drive a different car.”
Before she could respond, Jason crawled onto the sofa between them and leaned against Kelly. “I’m hungry, Mommy. Let’s go eat.”
“It’s pizza night,” Trey told Kelly when all three of them had found their seats.
“I’m surprised anyone would be allowed to deliver to this island,” Kelly said.
“Not quite,” Trey said with a laugh. “Greta makes her own whole-wheat crust and a fresh tomato sauce. Jason loves it.”
“Fresh mozzarella is the secret,” Greta said, placing a huge, steaming pizza in the center of the table.
“And fresh basil, which smells heavenly,” Kelly said.
Greta placed a slice on the plate in front of each of them.
“Except for an apple, I missed lunch, so I’m starving,” Kelly said.
“Why did you miss lunch?” Trey asked.
“My command performance for the FBI.”
“You should have said something,” he said. “We didn’t have to wait to eat.”
She shrugged and took a huge bite of her slice. Trey did the same. Delicious, as usual. His cook was a gem. He hoped Kelly appreciated that this was a much simpler meal than usual.
Kelly asked Jason about his day. His son grinned, obviously pleased to have her attention, and began rattling off his activities, including his daily romp in the pool.
Trey listened, surprised at how easily Kelly interacted with Jason. She knew exactly how to draw him out and even appeared to be interested in his responses.
“Daddy,” Jason said when they were finished eating, “can I watch TV a little more before bed?”
Trey hesitated. Normally, he allowed Jason to do whatever he wanted. But dinner was being served later than usual because of Kelly’s schedule. Maybe it was time for some boundaries. Maybe Jason should go on to sleep.
Or maybe he didn’t want to delay a repeat of that good-night kiss with Kelly.
Stunned at the realization he’d been looking forward to kissing her all day, Trey said, “Maria has to give you a bath first and then only thirty minutes of TV. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” Jason jumped from his chair and raced into the hallway where Maria waited.
“Come on, Jasonito,” she said.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Trey told Kelly when they’d gone upstairs.
“No, you don’t.”
“You think I’m spoiling him.”
“No. I think he should be learning his ABCs, not zoning out while watching television.”
“Seriously?”
“Education would be better for his brain than pretend heroes,” she said. “Maybe a dose of reality would help ground Jason.”
“Reality?”
Kelly shrugged. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending like in cartoons. Education is what helps a kid get ahead.”
“He’s four.”
“So? Some kids are in preschool at that age. I didn’t see any educational toys in his room, either.”
“Isn’t Jason a little young to face the harsh realities of life?”
“He was kidnapped. I’d say he’s already faced some pretty serious realities.”
“And as a result, he retreated to some safe place inside himself. Look, I know your childhood wa
sn’t all roses, but—”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you know about my childhood?”
“I hope everything. My attorney ran a background check on you.”
“What did you say?”
Startled by the vehemence of her question, the anger behind her words, Trey mentally kicked himself. He’d meant to compliment her on how she related to Jason. Instead he’d insulted her again. He should have known she’d think a vetting was intrusive. And perhaps it was.
“I already knew you were in foster homes,” he said. “You told me that yesterday.”
“That didn’t give you the right to snoop around in my life.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
UNSURE WHY SHE was so furious, Kelly pushed back from the table and stood. She didn’t have anything to hide. In fact, she was proud of how far she’d come.
But she should have the power to decide who knew the details of her life.
“I routinely get security clearance on anyone who comes near Jason,” Trey said in a tight voice.
“I’m a cop,” she said. “Why can’t people remember that?”
“I know you’re a cop, but there are always rotten apples.”
“So I’m a crooked cop?”
“You know I didn’t say that.”
“But you suspected I was involved with Jason’s kidnappers?”
“Not anymore.” Trey stood and threw his napkin to the table. “But Brian ordered the clearance the first day, and I only received the report this morning.”
“I want to see it,” she said.
“Fair enough.”
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Kelly whirled at the sound of Jason’s voice. With tousled damp hair and clean pajamas, he stood in the doorway of the dining room looking worriedly from his father and then back to her.
“Why are you yelling?” Jason asked.
Kelly took a deep breath. Poor little dude had been through enough without listening to his parents fighting. God, she remembered what it was like when her mother and Roy started hurling furious words at each other. She’d always hid under the bed, waiting for the inevitable sound of the first blow and her mother’s piercing wails afterward.
She’d sworn that she would never put a child through that kind of pain. It was one reason she became a cop.
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