On the way home, Jarred said thoughtfully, “I’d like to talk to Connor.”
“Oh, he’d never talk to you. You’re too…establishment.”
“Would he talk to you?”
Kelsey shrugged. “I don’t know him really. I think he saw me as an obstacle. I wasn’t into using, and he and Chance traveled that path together.”
Jarred looked thoughtful. Kelsey mentally shrugged off that avenue of investigation. Jarred’s problems were bigger than those of a couple of small-time drug abusers. If she had to bet on it, she’d wager that the issue behind the attacks involved money. Big money. The kind of money generated by corporations or invested by wealthy families. The kind of money held by the Bryants.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to Connor. Mulling that over in her mind, Kelsey wondered if she should try to find Connor on her own and hear what he had to say. He was close to Chance and maybe could offer up some explanation as to why Chance had been with Jarred. He might even be able to shed some light on this whole situation that none of them had ever thought of.
But she would have to visit him without Jarred. She’d been right on that: Connor would never talk to someone like him.
By the time they returned to the house it was raining in earnest, the kind of cold, December precipitation that soaked into the skin, cold and clammy. Kelsey shivered inside her coat as she stopped the car in the driveway and pulled on the emergency brake. In the dark, the plywoodcovered garage seemed ominous, a thin shield against those that would try to hurt her husband.
Jarred, however, threw open his door with anticipation.
“I take it we’re not spending another night at the Olympic,” she observed.
“You don’t want to stay here?”
“No, I guess—well…”
“Well?”
She didn’t trust his mood, which had seemed to rise on the trip back from the Rowdens while hers had deteriorated. “I don’t mind.”
“Like hell you don’t.” He grinned, ducking his head against the rain and limping toward the front door. He was certainly in a strange mood. After locking the car, Kelsey scurried along beside him. She twisted her key in the lock and pushed open the door. She flipped on the light and was greeted by a series of barks from Mr. Dog.
“Hello, there, fella,” she said, scratching his ears, but he turned to Jarred, tail wagging furiously. “Oh, yeah, show your true colors.”
She straightened up, feeling that same uneasiness that had plagued her earlier. She felt silly about it, but maybe she should tell Jarred of her fears.
For his part, Jarred limped through the entry and into his den. “Come here,” he called to her. Reluctantly, Kelsey wrapped her arms around her waist and walked to the edge of the room. Jarred stood at his desk. Something glinted in his eyes. Something devilish.
“What are you up to?” she demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t play innocent with me.” She stepped into the room and glanced around, expecting to find some clue to his strange attitude. “You’re hiding something, and I have no idea what it is. Is this some game? I’ve gotta tell you. I’m really not in the mood, considering—” She suddenly swept in a breath, staring out the window. “Oh…”
“What?” Jarred asked, pretending to peer into the darkness as if blind.
“Is that December’s Wish?”
“I believe it is,” he admitted.
Soft lights twinkled from the sixty-foot boat moored at their dock. It was Jonathan Bryant’s boat. A gift to Nola one Christmas, it was generally docked at a marina on Lake Union since Jonathan and Nola rarely used it. Will sometimes took it out, and Jarred upon occasion, but as far as Kelsey knew, it had never been moored at their Mercer Island home, and it certainly hadn’t been here.
“You had it brought here?”
“Her. I had her brought here. Until this house is completely secure, it doesn’t feel right. I know you feel it,” he confessed. “But I didn’t feel like staying at the hotel any longer, so I had her brought around. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to see the Rowdens today: to waste a little more time while she was set up.”
Kelsey gazed at him with pure relief and love. “Thank, you,” she said simply.
“My pleasure, Mrs. Bryant.”
She swallowed, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “How are you going to get down there?”
“With your help,” he told her firmly. “So grab some things and let’s move on in.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Thirty minutes later she crossed onto the bridge, hanging tightly on to Jarred’s hand even though she was undoubtedly the more stable force. But black water dimpled by rain seemed to boil and threaten all around her, and only when they were safe inside the main cabin did she feel entirely secure.
“What is it?” Jarred asked, sensing her tension.
“What isn’t it?” she countered. “Jarred, this is wonderful!”
And it was. Done in shades of tan and navy blue, highlighted by glistening brass fixtures and set off with navy, yellow, and beige plaid drapes and bedspreads, it was a snug bungalow, a sea captain’s dream.
“I had it redone a while back,” he said.
“Love the interior design,” she teased, sinking onto the bed.
“December’s Wish has been neglected for a long time. I thought we should change that tradition before another holiday season.”
“Which is just about upon us,” Kelsey observed.
“The Bryant Industries Christmas party is coming right up,” he said dryly.
Kelsey grimaced, remembering the last one she attended. “Can’t wait.”
He laughed and sank down beside her on the bed, staring into her eyes, his own dancing with wicked delight.
Kelsey, suddenly overcome by everything, said shyly, “So what do you want to do first?”
For an answer, he tilted her chin up, grinned like a devil, then kissed her all over her face and neck until she was screaming with laughter.
And after that, he showed her what he wanted to do second….
Chapter Eleven
Drumming his fingers on the receiver in his office, Jarred considered the state of his business, his life, and his marriage. It had been three days since the explosion. Three days of growing certainty that whoever, or whatever, had opened Pandora’s box was not about to stop now. Three days of loving his wife and recognizing fiercely that he had to do something or face losing everything.
He felt frozen in indecision, not a comfortable state for a man like Jarred. After a few moments, he pushed thoughts of his faceless nemesis aside and concentrated on the one area where he was completely comfortable: business.
Ducking his head into the anteroom outside his door, he told Gwen, “Put me through to Neil Brunswick.”
Gwen gazed at him in consternation. “Mr. Brunswick… but I thought…”
“Neil’s expecting the call. Trevor Taggart can’t have everything his way,” Jarred answered, cutting her off. “It’s time I took back control.”
Kelsey gathered up her coat, intending to check the town houses one more time and possibly drop in on Tara. Trevor had been remarkably quiet ever since her defection, and truth to tell, she felt a little bad. Oh, sure, she still believed he was working with someone inside Bryant Industries to keep a leg up on the competition, but he wasn’t evil incarnate. He’d been good to her.
And he was as good a place to start as any if she wanted to unravel the threads of this mystery.
The door to her office suddenly swung inward. The handle banged into the wall. Startled by the intruder’s abruptness, Kelsey clutched her coat close to her chest. “Well, hello,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. It was no surprise that Sarah was behind this abrupt entrance.
“So are you going to tell him or am I?”
“Pardon?”
“Are you going to tell Jarred that you were the one spying on Bryant Industries all these years or am I?”
&n
bsp; Kelsey’s jaw dropped in surprise. She was still formulating an answer to that shocking declaration when Sarah swept on. “And now you’re suddenly on our side. Always the heroine, aren’t you? I’m sure Jarred doesn’t have a clue.”
“I don’t have a clue either,” Kelsey said, meaning it.
“You helped Jarred reacquire the Brunswick piece. I almost admire your ability to switch allegiances so fast. Must make it convenient for you, and at least this time, you’re on the winning side.”
Kelsey stared. Trevor’s Phase Two! Jarred had reacquired Phase Two?
Sarah snorted. “Of course, I’m certainly happy Trevor didn’t end up with it. That would have been a disaster. Still, it begs the question: How did Jarred do it? With whose help? You certainly sold Taggart out. You know he’s been on the phone all morning, screaming for your head.”
Kelsey shook the cobwebs out of her head, coming up to speed. “Trevor? He’s always screaming for someone’s head. So Jarred got the Brunswick property back. Unbelievable!”
“Oh. Right.” Sarah nodded. “Like you had nothing to do with it.”
“I wish I had.”
Discomfited by Kelsey’s candor, Sarah hesitated a moment before plowing on. “I guess I should just be thankful that you’re finally on our side,” she said with ill grace. “But how long is it going to last? Hmm? When should Jarred worry about that knife in his back?”
Kelsey drew a breath. Enough was enough. In a steely voice that matched Sarah’s own, she said tersely, “I keep reminding him of that every time your name is mentioned. For all I know, you’re the one who’s been sending information Trevor’s way. The way you talk about him is so familiar, as if he were more than just the name of a Bryant Industries competitor.”
With that, Kelsey grabbed her purse and tucked it under one arm. It was several moments before she realized that Sarah had gone utterly still, utterly silent. Gazing at her directly, Kelsey carefully examined Sarah’s stony countenance. Her lips were knife-blade thin, her jaw tense. In a tone of discovery, Kelsey said, “It was you, wasn’t it? Gwen thought it was Will, but it was you!”
“You’re delusional. Trying to pass the buck as ever.”
“No.” Kelsey shook her head, her thoughts tripping wildly. “You’re the one who’s been passing Trevor information. For money or for kicks—I don’t know. Was your interest in Jarred just a means to an end?” When Sarah didn’t respond, Kelsey added, “Is that what’s going on with Will, too?”
“You don’t know anything about it!” Sarah strode out of Kelsey’s office in the same whirlwind manner she’d burst in. Kelsey walked at a more sedate pace to Jarred’s office, her thoughts churning.
“He’s at a meeting,” Gwen informed Kelsey when she asked for Jarred. “He took a cab. He told me to tell you that afterward he’s going home for a physical therapy session and that he would meet you there.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
She returned to her office and thought about calling Trevor and facing off with him herself, but as soon as she made the call, she experienced serious regrets. Still, when she heard his voice on the recorder asking her to leave a message, she was a bit disappointed not to reach him herself. She needed to confront him. Staring into space, she lost herself in thoughts of the goals and aspirations of the people who surrounded her. Who, she wondered, might be capable of something as drastic and deadly as murder? Sarah? She might be a spy and a home wrecker, but a murderess?
Deciding she needed to clear her head, Kelsey left the offices, entertaining thoughts of visiting her old offices and the condo and tying up a few loose ends. Was she crazy or had she just rooted out the Bryant Industries spy? And if so, what did that mean about overall company security? Sarah Ackerman resided in the upper echelons of the company hierarchy.
And was Sarah’s suspected spying even related to the accidents plaguing Jarred?
Joanna stood at the bedroom doorway, arms folded across her chest, her smile beaming with the results of a job well done. “You’ve made incredible progress,” she told Jarred.
He was struggling for normal breath but he was less fatigued than he had been in the past. These last days were a glimpse of the future: It wouldn’t be long until he was back in prime physical shape.
“Does that mean it’s over between us?’’ Jarred joked, wiping his hot face with a towel.
“I think so. But if I were you, I’d keep working those muscles.”
“I will.”
“What happened to the garage?” … Jarred inhaled and exhaled slowly. “The case of the exploding Porsche.”
Joanna looked confused, but when Jarred didn’t offer further comment, she observed, “You weren’t hurt obviously.”
“Nowhere near it when it went off.”
After Joanna left, he headed downstairs, impressed that his muscles protested only slightly. His ankle was certainly a trial, but hey, he was lucky with a capital L and he knew it.
Where was Kelsey?
Mary Hennessy stood at the island range top, fussing over a pan of gently sizzling chicken breasts when Jarred entered the kitchen. Seeing him, she jumped right in without preamble, as if he’d asked a question. “I have pear slices and goat cheese, and those need to be placed atop the sliced chicken, which goes on top of the greens in the refrigerator. The greens are in that yellow bowl. The oven’s preheated, and these rolls need to be warmed. Fifteen minutes. Let me write this down for you,” she said, grabbing a pencil and scribbling on a notepad.
You didn’t have to cook. We’re not even staying here. We’re on the boat.”
“I know. But I wanted to.”
“I think I can remember your instructions.”
“Better to have it written down.” She didn’t look up. “I just want to make sure it’s right.”
Ever since that moment on the stairs, she’d had serious trouble making eye contact with Jarred. Probably just as well, he concluded, grabbing an apple from the wire basket on the granite-topped kitchen island. What was there to add anyway?
Sinking his teeth into the apple, he savored its flavor and watched Mary’s ministrations. He realized his watching her made her nervous, but he didn’t much care. Life was too short to worry about such things.
Mary left a few moments later and Mr. Dog followed her exit, then came back to Jarred and yelped up at him. Jarred petted the golden retriever’s head and watched as Felix sauntered through the solarium toward the utility room. He could hear the sound of scratching as Felix found the litter box. Mr. Dog gave the noise a desultory cock of one ear, but kept his eyes on Jarred.
“So the cat doesn’t interest you anymore, huh?” Jarred asked, amused. “You bonded the night of the explosion?”
Mr. Dog answered with a short bark.
Jarred checked his watch. He’d left work early for this last physical therapy session with Joanna, but if Kelsey had finished up on time, she should have been here a good twenty minutes ago. He wanted to talk to her. Was desperate to, actually, because he’d gotten a total chuckle out of Trevor Taggart’s reaction to Jarred’s own secret dealings with the Brunswick people. It had been so easy, too. When Taggart underhandedly made the deal with them, whatever he’d said had left them feeling uncomfortable and soiled. They’d only accepted because Jarred had stalled so long in signing the papers, and that had been because Jarred had wanted to ferret out whoever was spilling information to Taggart Inc. Jarred’s accident had prevented him from putting things right with the Brunswicks, but when his memory returned and his health improved, he phoned Neil Brunswick, scion of the Brunswick family.
Eager to put the development deal back on track, Neil asked Jarred to his offices to put things right. The elder Brunswick had never liked Trevor’s corner cutting and finagling, and he himself, had refused to sign. Others’ signatures were basically meaningless without Neil’s— something Taggart blithely ignored.
When Jarred limped into Neil’s rosewood office, Neil greeted him like a long-lost son. “Thanks for waiti
ng,” Jarred said as Neil signed the documents with a flourish, sealing the deal once and for all.
“Figured there was a reason you were stalling. Just didn’t know what it was. “Neil’s bushy gray brows lifted in an unspoken question.
“It was a personal standoff with Mr. Taggart,” was all Jarred offered.
“I just don’t like the man,” Neil said with a snort. “I’m good at knowing the worth of a man’s character, and that man’s got debits where there oughta be credits.”
They shook hands and Jarred returned to his office and spent the rest of the morning trying to scare up Trevor on the telephone. When they finally connected, Jarred said simply, “I met with Neil Brunswick this morning. He said he’d never signed the final documents with your company.”
“Just a matter of time,” Trevor responded, but a note of fear entered his voice.
“That time came and went.”.
Silent shock greeted Jarred on the other end of the line. Without so much as a good-bye, Taggart severed the connection.
Ten minutes later Will had knocked on his door.
“What did you do to Trevor Taggart?” he asked, amused. “Our legal department’s been getting an awful lot of calls.”
“I can imagine.” Briefly he explained about his morning meeting, finishing by saying, “Taggart’s fit to be tied, but that’s nothing new.” He shrugged. “Still, I failed in my purpose.”
“What’s that?”
“To find out who’s been passing information to him.”
“You should have told me what you were doing,” Will said. “I could have helped.”
Jarred smiled and brushed his words aside. How could he say that he hadn’t felt he could trust anyone? How could he do that to Will? “I started that game with Taggart. I wanted to finish it on my own.”
“Just don’t leave Sarah and me out on everything, okay?” he said lightly.
“You and Sarah make all the decisions when I’m not around. I know that.”
“Right,” Will said, sounding unsure of how to take Jarred’s assessment.
Not Without You Page 20