by Meryl Sawyer
They stood out front near the street, under the majestic banyan tree that was artfully illuminated by tiny spotlights. When they’d reached the front of the house, Aspen stopped barking.
She was terrified now, almost trembling, but she tried not to show it. Her mother was upset enough without Madison breaking down. Someone wanted her dead. They meant business.
Paul screeched up a few minutes later in his father’s Porsche with a portable police flasher attached to the hood. He jumped out. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Aspen warned me with a lot of barking and growling. He had his nose under the car,” she managed to tell him calmly. She turned to her mother. “Mom, this is Paul Tanner. Paul, meet Jessica Whitcomb.”
Paul smiled at her mother, then said, “You have a stubborn daughter. I told her she wasn’t safe and not to leave the house.”
“She never listened to me, either.”
“I’m going to go back and check under the car myself,” Paul told them.
“Take this.” Her mother handed him the flashlight.
“Maybe I made a mistake,” Madison said, praying for this to be true. “You may be dragging the bomb squad out here for nothing.”
“Let me check. If the team shows up, send them back.”
“Please be careful,” she told Paul.
“Well,” her mother whispered even though Paul was out of earshot, “he certainly is the handsome, take-charge type.”
“The opposite of Aiden.” She put her arm around her mother. “We both made mistakes.”
A police department panel van pulled up to the curb, followed by two police cars. The sliding door on the van opened and out came two men with German shepherds. Aspen wagged his tail but the professional dogs didn’t even look his way, although Madison knew they could smell him.
“The car is around back,” Madison said, stepping forward. “Detective Tanner is back there.”
A pair of officers approached from the first squad car, one asking, “What’s a homicide detective doing here? Nobody’s dead, right?”
“He’s my boyfriend. I called him about the suspicious thing under my car. He thought it sounded like a bomb so he contacted the bomb squad.”
“Gotcha.”
The men and dogs headed up the driveway while another man and a young woman unloaded metal boxes of equipment, put the things on a cart and followed the others toward the back of the house. Two more officers emerged from the second squad car, said hello to Madison and her mother, then went after the others.
“We might as well go back into the house,” Madison said. “This might take a little time.”
They went in through the side door again. Madison waved at Paul so he would know where she’d gone. He nodded but kept watching as the team slid a tray of some kind under her car. She and her mother settled on the sofa with Aspen at their feet. Madison began talking again, as fast as she could, telling her mother about meaningless things just to keep their minds off what was happening outside.
Madison took a deep breath and reached down to pet the dog. She had been a foot away from death. If it hadn’t been for this gentle creature’s warning, she would be in a thousand pieces.
“Are you serious about this detective?” her mother asked.
“Yes, but I’m going to take it slowly. I don’t want to make another mistake.” When her mother nodded, Madison asked about life on the sea.
“Claustrophobic. Boring. So much blue water. Endless blue water. Sometimes we sailed for over a week without seeing land.” She shrugged. “It was fun when we were in ports. There others shared their tales and gave advice. But the whole thing got to me. Scott got to me. I missed you and Miami. It’s hot and humid and crowded, but it’s home.”
They were still catching up an hour later when Paul came through the door. Poor baby, Madison thought. He looked exhausted. He sat in a nearby chair. Aspen rose and sidled over to him. Paul reached down and petted the dog. “Good boy. You saved her.”
“It was a bomb.” Madison’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t allowed herself to worry much until now. She’d forced her mind to focus on her mother, but now reality couldn’t be ignored. Fear and anger knotted inside her. Who was doing this?
“A crude bomb attached with a magnet. Anyone with a few tools and the Internet could have made it. Took no more than five seconds to affix the damn thing.”
“Why did it have that little red light?” her mother asked.
“It’s an optional feature that allows the device to be triggered by a cell phone, but this one would have blown you sky-high the second you turned the key in the ignition.” Paul shook his head. “Did anyone know you were coming here?”
“No, just Mom.”
“You spoke with her over a cell or a landline?”
“On my cell.” She groaned. “I totally forgot. I could have used the guesthouse phone. Mom gave the exact address over the cell.”
“See anyone following you?”
“No, and I looked. I guess about halfway here I stopped watching,” she confessed. “I mean, in the dark all the headlights look the same. I didn’t see any strange cars.” She thought a moment. “When I came up the street no one was behind me. I checked then.”
“I’d bet your cell phone call was monitored,” Paul said.
“How does that work?” her mother asked.
“You’re just sending out radio waves. With the right equipment, it isn’t difficult.”
“Wouldn’t they have to be nearby recording or something?” her mother asked.
“Not really. Technology these days is pretty amazing,” Paul replied. “They could amp the signal and pick it up miles away.”
“I was here about ten or fifteen minutes when Aspen began to bark,” Madison recalled.
“Coral Gables isn’t exactly next door to Palm Beach. That would give our guy time to get here. Could have been up the street, parked with his lights off.”
“You know, Mom, before you went to turn on the yard lights, I thought I saw something move in the bushes.”
Paul jumped to his feet. “I’ll have the guys see if there are any shoe prints in the soil.” He was out the door a second later.
“I’m terribly worried about you,” her mother said in a troubled voice. “I feel so helpless.”
She held her mother’s hand. “Please don’t worry. Just having you home makes a huge difference. I think if we get out the word that I am not Wyatt’s donor-conceived child, I’ll be safe. That doesn’t mean I don’t want this maniac caught, but at least I won’t be his target.”
“What makes you think it’s a man? Earlier you said Paul thought it might be a woman. A woman could have done this or any of the other killings.”
“Mom, if there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that I’m not sure of anything.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
IT WAS ALMOST FOUR in the morning when Paul drove Madison into the parking area behind the guesthouse. It was a tight fit with Aspen in the small space behind the sports car’s front seats. Paul didn’t mind. He’d do anything for Aspen. The dog had literally saved Madison’s life. Just like the bomb-sniffing German shepherds, the retriever had smelled something, but how he knew it was dangerous remained a mystery.
They’d spent hours at the station. Madison had been interviewed and Captain Callahan had been called in, even though it was late. He had to approve of Paul’s plan, which he did. Paul hadn’t expected any resistance. The guy was a publicity hound.
“Do you think they’ll find any prints on my car?” Madison asked. Her car had been taken to the yard for examination after the explosive device was removed.
He got out of the car and held his seat back so Aspen could jump out. “I doubt it. But the guy’s getting careless. Last time a neighbor called the police in time for us to realize Keith Brooks Smith had been murdered. Tonight he was tripped up by the smartest dog in the world.”
Madison was out of the car now. “We’d better let Aspen relieve himself. It’s
been hours.” Aspen had stayed with them at the station; there hadn’t been time to take him out.
They skirted the guesthouse and walked along the beach trail the way they had on other nights. The sand glistened, the sea sparkled and the scent of gardenias hung in the air just as before, but nothing was the same for Paul. A golf-ball-size lump formed in his throat and chest-swelling emotion welled up inside him. For a second he thought he might cry.
He’d come unbelievably close to losing Madison. Until now, he’d been running on pure adrenaline. Two nights without sleep and the knowledge that the person he loved the most could be taken away from him in a heartbeat shook him.
Madison released Aspen and the dog lumbered off and immediately lifted his leg on a bush. Paul pulled Madison into his arms. He didn’t kiss her; this wasn’t about sex. It was about love. He had an all-consuming need for her that he couldn’t control, let alone understand. It drove him to protect her, keep her safe at any cost.
“You can’t possibly know how much you mean to me,” he whispered, his lips against the hair covering her ear. “I almost lost you.”
Her arms were around him, hugging tight. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. Don’t be angry with me.”
He pulled back so he could see her face. She was always beautiful, but the moonlight gave her a dreamy glow. “I’m not angry. I was scared. Still am. I’ve got to get this bastard.”
“You think it’s a man?”
“Damned if I know. A woman could have put that device together.”
“What about the people with grudges against Wyatt?”
He shook his head. “The guy Trey and I went to see tonight, he’s one pissed-off nut. Claims the Xeria drug that launched Holbrook’s company had been his idea.”
“Is there any truth to his claim?”
“I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean the guy couldn’t be delusional and believe it himself. He was just crazy enough for Trey and I to consider taking a closer look. Trouble is we were interviewing him when someone was attaching a bomb to your car.”
“Maybe it’s a team. A man and a woman.” Madison frowned. “Check to see if Savannah and Nathan have alibis. They were here at dinner. Wyatt and I went into the study to talk. I didn’t see them when I came out, but they could have still been around.”
“Do you suspect them?” He’d never really believed in women’s intuition, but he could be wrong.
“Not really, but Savannah doesn’t like me, and she’s not going to like me working with her father.”
“Come on, Aspen,” he called to the dog. “We’d better get to bed. We’ll need to get up early to speak with Wyatt before the press conference.”
His arm around her, they walked back to the house. He kept feeling he was missing something. A clue was eluding him.
SOMETHING AWAKENED Madison at seven. She was still in Paul’s arms. He’d been holding her all night. He was breathing lightly. For a moment she lay in the drowsy warmth of her bed and pretended last night had never happened. Deal with it, she told herself. She eased out of his grip and peered over the bed. Aspen was sleeping next to it.
Maybe it was just nerves, she thought as she got up and tiptoed into the bathroom. She was still jumpy and shell-shocked from last night. She went to the bathroom, slipped on her robe, then tiptoed down the hall to use the kitchen phone. She wanted to be sure Wyatt didn’t leave for the office before they could talk to him. She left the message with Tobias, who always arrived promptly at seven to have breakfast with Wyatt. The chauffeur drove the men to the office.
Aspen was at the French doors, tail wagging, expecting to go out. After last night, she didn’t dare go out alone with him. He’s one smart dog, she told herself. Let him go on his own. She opened the door and Aspen ambled out. He waited, expecting her to come with him the way she usually did.
“Don’t even think about going out there.” Paul’s voice came from behind her.
She turned, startled to see him. He slept without clothes and even though she’d seen him nude many times, there was something heart-stoppingly masculine about him. Only the red pocked bullet scar on his thigh marred the perfection. Actually, it didn’t, she decided. It made him seem more worldly.
His sex hung heavily between those powerful thighs. Her throat constricted as she realized she wanted to make love to him. Now wasn’t the time, she told herself.
“I wasn’t going out. I think Aspen’s smart enough to go on his own and come back. Don’t you?”
“You bet.”
“Go on,” she told Aspen. “I’ll pick up after you later.”
As if he understood, Aspen trotted away, his tail in the air like a golden plume.
“I called Tobias and told him that we needed to talk to Wyatt. We’re supposed to be there at eight.”
“We’d better get in the shower. It’s after seven.”
“Should I leave the door open for Aspen?” she asked.
“No. Lock it. He’s a smart boy. He’ll be waiting when we get out of the shower.”
Paul’s cell phone rang and he sprinted into the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand. While he answered, she headed into the bathroom.
“It’s my father,” he called to her. “I have to call him back from a landline.”
“Okay, I’m in the shower.” She turned on the water and stepped in.
A few moments later he joined her. “My father located another of Wyatt’s donor-conceived children. Right here in Miami.”
“How?” She shampooed her hair.
“Off a Web site where donor offspring can search for siblings. The registry had posted Wyatt’s donor number. I should say numbers, since the clinic used more than one. A woman living in Delray Beach logged on last night, asking if she had siblings.”
“So she doesn’t know about Wyatt?”
“Not yet.” Paul was so tall he had to hunch over to get his head wet. “Don’t mention this to anyone. My father phoned the police and they contacted the Web site. Her profile has been taken off. An officer is on his way to see her to warn the woman.”
“How many other children do you think could be out there?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s an unregulated industry. You’re not supposed to have more than twelve siblings, but—get this—one man sired sixty-six. It’s like the Wild West. No one’s watching over these people.”
She closed her eyes and rinsed the suds out of her hair. When she opened them, Paul was staring at her. The heartrending tenderness in his gaze surprised her the way it had last night out on the beach. The look did ridiculous things to her pulse.
“You’re gorgeous even wet, without clothes or makeup.”
“You’re just saying that.” She pointed at his erection. “I know what you want.”
“Hey, I was too tired last night. Let me make it up to you now.”
She shuddered as he cradled her face with his hands and sighed as his lips hovered over hers.
MADISON WALKED beside Paul into Wyatt’s home office, where Tobias and Wyatt were waiting for them. They sat down and Tobias poured them coffee from the carafe on the sideboard. She hoped the episode in the shower didn’t show on her face. Her body was still aching with pleasure, every nerve ending tingling.
“I have some news,” Madison said, accepting the cup from Tobias but directing her comments to Wyatt. “I’m sorry to tell you this after all you’ve done for me. It doesn’t seem fair, but…” She didn’t know how to tell him. Wyatt had gone out of his way for her and now she couldn’t do anything for him.
“What isn’t fair?” asked Wyatt, a concerned look on his face.
“I wish I could help you, but I can’t. My mother came home last night. I was not donor-conceived. My mother went to the clinic. That’s why her name is in the records. But she became pregnant. She sold her place to another woman.”
“Oh, no,” Tobias said.
“Do you know her name?” Wyatt asked.
“No. My mother might.”
“I’m really sorry. I’ll still take the tests in case I can donate, but since I’m not a blood relative, it’s doubtful,” Madison said.
There was regret in Wyatt’s half smile. “You know, sometimes we talk ourselves into things. I thought I saw something of myself in you. I really believed you were my child.”
“You did?” She was unexpectedly touched. Wyatt didn’t seem to be that close to his own daughter, yet something about Madison had struck a chord with him.
“This doesn’t have to change our relationship,” Wyatt assured her. “Stay in the guesthouse until things are sorted out.”
“There’s more,” Paul said. “Last night someone put an explosive device under Madison’s car.” He went on to give them the details.
“I’m so sorry,” Wyatt said to Madison, a quaver in his voice. “I don’t know what to say. I never meant—”
“I know you didn’t,” Madison assured him.
“This killer is really deranged,” Tobias said, “and cowardly. Why kill innocent people?”
“He or she,” Paul responded, “gets a sadistic thrill out of watching Wyatt’s hopes for a prolonged life literally die.”
There was silence in the room for a moment. Somewhere in the distance a telephone rang.
“Here’s what was decided at police headquarters last night,” Paul told them. Madison already knew what he was going to say. “Captain Callahan is going to give a news conference. Your name hasn’t been associated with the deaths of Erin Wycoff and Keith Brooks Smith. Now it will be. He’ll also mention the possibility that the deaths in Boston are linked. Expect reporters and media attention.”
“I’ll call for extra security,” Tobias said. “We won’t let them in the building.”
“My father is already sending eight guys,” Paul said. “Just tell them what to do.”
“Maybe we should put another man on here,” Wyatt said.
“There is an upside to this publicity,” Madison said quietly. “Your donor number will be everywhere. You may find a match.”
“Or I’ll get more innocent people killed,” Wyatt said bitterly.