by Kathryn Shay
“His son….” Kinley steepled his hands. “Eddie? E. Nigel is Eddie? He was a boy then.”
“Fourteen. Old enough to interpret what you did as malicious. He must have held a grudge for years, planned to get back at you.”
Kinley knew first-hand how a person could hold a grudge that long. He turned to his computer at the other side of the desk and called up his files from the year Zeller went downhill. There were transactions with Kinley’s clients. Adding new ones. Wow, fifteen of them had come from Zeller? Had he destroyed this man’s father?
“What happened to him?”
“He became an alcoholic. Left his family. Nigel’s mother had a hell of a time supporting him.”
Kinley had done all that?
“No offense meant, but since you never made any overture to help the father, or even find out what happened to him, I suspect we have our motivation for Nigel wanting to sabotage you.”
Like I sabotaged his father.
The investigator said, “Can I do anything else for you, Mr. Moran.”
“I want to find Nigel.”
“The police are looking for him.”
“I want you on it.”
“Appreciate that. One last thing, you should get protection. Today. You never know how far a man with a grudge will go.”
But Kinley did know. Intimately.
Tom Halstead followed him home that night, and had arranged for somebody to cover the nights starting in two days. “I can guard you until he’s free, Mr. Moran.”
“No, Tom. I’m okay at home. This place is like a fortress.”
“I’ll be back in the morning to get you to work.”
Kinley went upstairs, showered and put on comfortable clothes—Jamie called them jammies—then he ordered food from the restaurant. But when the meal arrived, he couldn’t eat. Because in an effort to forget about Nigel he started to obsess about Jamie.
He fell asleep but was awakened by a loud knock on the door. Once…and then again. Sleepy, he got up, put on some pajama bottoms and left the bedroom. No one was allowed on the residents’ floors unless the person lived here. Packages would be delivered by the concierge and they never let anyone upstairs unless the person was approved. Kinley had a bad feeling about this. Through the peephole he saw no one. He undid the dead bolt and with the chains still on, cracked open the door.
A package wrapped in brown paper sat on the floor. More awake now, he shut the door and redid the bolts. Grabbing his phone from the counter, he called the private number of Detective Manchester.
She answered right away.
“I don’t know what to make of something that happened.”
“What is it, Mr. Moran?”
He explained.
“We’ll be right there. Do not open your door to anyone but us.”
After twenty minutes of waiting, his intercom buzzed. “There are police officers here to see you,” Mitchell, the concierge, said. “They’re angry that I wouldn’t let them up.”
“I knew they were coming. I should have called you.”
“No problem. Is there something I can help you with?”
“No, thanks.”
Kinley could hear Mitchell speak to the cops. Then, “They’re on their way.”
“Someone knocked on my door earlier, Mitchell. Did you let anyone upstairs in the last half-hour?”
“Only Mr. Rankin came in. He’s a resident. He did have somebody with him. A cousin, I think. Rankin signed the guy in.”
“What did the cousin look like?”
Mitchell gave a perfect description of Nigel Pembroke. Stunned, Kinley said goodbye. The sound of the knocker made him jump. He checked the peephole again and opened the door.
“Get back, Mr. Moran,” Manchester said, “and move out of the foyer.” They stepped inside and gently closed the door and followed him to the living room.
The other cop, Camp, was already on the phone. Kinley heard him say, “Get me the bomb squad, fast.”
In an hour, the bomb squad had determined the package wasn’t actually a bomb. “Why did you assume it was?” Kinley asked.
“Precaution. It was the right size and weight.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re this careful.”
“We have more to discuss.”
“I’ve already hired a bodyguard. He would have been outside the door but he can’t start for two days.” He took in a deep breath. “Is Nigel behind the bomb? Mitchell’s description confirms it was him.”
“Yeah, we think so. We’ll go interview Mr. Rankin now. Hopefully, Pembroke didn’t hurt him.”
“Seriously?”
“I’ll call for a police officer to guard here the rest of the night.”
“Thank you. And please let me know what happened with Rankin.”
Liam had a bad feeling about this family meeting. Talking with Pat yesterday had been a disaster. Even Aidan thought so. Ma and Pa sat next to each other, Bailey between them and Dylan and Aidan sat on either side of him. Pat, who’d called the gathering, wasn’t here yet.
“Anybody know what’s going on? Why we’re here this morning?” Pa asked.
“Let’s wait for Pat.” Bailey averted her gaze from their father.
“So that’s a yes? You know?” This from Dylan.
Mama sat forward. “Is somebody sick?”
Bailey shook her head. “Nothing like that.”
Just then the door burst open. “Sorry. Isabella barfed all over me when I went to kiss her goodbye.”
They all accepted the fact that children came first.
Pat poured himself coffee and took a seat. “I asked you here to talk about Moran.”
“Kinley?” Dylan asked. “Why are you back to calling him by his last name?”
“Because something happened. Bailey and I were having lunch in a restaurant when him and Jamie came in. They sat down and were holdin’ hands.”
“We hold hands with her sometimes.” Dylan commented. “Did something bad happen and he was consoling her?”
“No, they’re involved.”
“Involved how?”
“For Pete’s sake,” Liam said. “They’re in love with each other.”
“I think Jamie’s in love with him,” Pat went on. “He’s using her to get back at us.”
Pa’s face reddened and his breathing sped up. “I’m trying to forge a relationship with him! So are you five.”
“That’s what I thought, too, Pa. But the man’s been lyin’ to us. He’s been tryin’ to get back at us even when we thought we were getting along.”
“I don’t believe it.” Dylan put in. “There’s been no indication that he’s tricking us.”
Mama said, “Men just don’t share that stuff. But I am surprised Jamie kept this a secret.”
“And he admitted that he was using her in front of her? She must have been crushed.” This from Dylan again.
Bailey sat forward in her seat. “No, Kinley swore he wasn’t out to get us. He didn’t say much about her. He told us to leave. Dismissed us. I felt bad for him.” She bit her lip. “I lost my temper, too. I read Jamie the riot act for keeping secret something so important, given what’s happened with Kinley’s return. She tried to play their relationship down, and after that he ordered us all out, including her. I guess he took that as rejection.”
“See? He’s a jerk.” Pat again. “We should all be done with him.”
“Jamie won’t like that,” Liam put in. “She told us yesterday she loved him.”
“So what? Jamie chose us over him. She said as much.”
“I don’t think so,” Bailey objected. “Jamie tried to hedge but I’ve watched them together for a while. I think he loves her, too.”
Dylan’s expression was dark. “And Pat, people don’t make those kinds of assumptions, that this was a trick, that he doesn’t love her, without proof, especially about someone else’s relationship.”
“No offense to Jamie, but seriously? Moran, New York City’s most famous bachelo
r, is going to fall for an unwed mother?”
“Grow up, Patrick!” Bailey stood up, her face flushed. “You’d better not say that in front of Clay.”
“I’m sorry, a ghrá I didn’t mean you.”
“Of course you did. When Clay and I got together, you didn’t exactly think we were well-matched and were worried about our different lifestyles. Love happens, Pat. Between people you’d never expect.”
Mama sighed. “If Kinley meant well with us and her, and I’m inclined to side with Bailey that he did, you better fix this, Patrick.” She turned to Pa. “And I’m sorry for saying this, Paddy,” she faced her children. “But this family has done enough harm to that boy.”
That silenced everyone for a while. Finally, Bailey asked a question. “Pat, why did you go off like this? You’ve calmed down in the last couple of years and seemed really happy.”
He looked away. Then back at them. “There were two things where what he did with the pub went wrong, and they could’ve really hurt the business if I hadn’t caught both.”
“That’s not all of it, I can tell by your face,” Bailey put in. “Spill.”
“Okay! I feel about Jamie like I feel about you, lass. Protective. And the thought of our Jamie getting sucked in by Kinley drives me nuts.”
“There’s still more.” Her gaze narrowed on him. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
A sad expression came over Pat’s face. “I guess.”
“What that means is Kinley has come to mean a lot to you. In any case, family doesn’t turn on family,” she said looking at Pa. “And he’s our family. We have to do something about this.”
Chapter 13
* * *
“Mr. Moran, I’m Jess Harper, the security expert Tom Halstead recommended. Your assistant buzzed us in.”
“Yes, of course.” Kinley stood, circled the desk, and shook the bodyguard’s hand. “Have a seat.” They sat facing each other in front of the desk. “Tell me about yourself. It was all in the report Tom sent me but hearing a man talk about his life is revealing.”
With the ease of an orator Harper relayed information about his family, his interest in security, his major jobs in the past.
“Can you tell me why you’ll do night duty? It doesn’t sound like someone in your position would take a job with those hours.”
“Can I be honest?”
“Nothing but.”
“Tom Halstead is an old friend. He called in a favor.”
Kinley hadn’t expected that. He was off his game. “Then thank you for taking this job. It shouldn’t be for too long.”
“I’ve cleared my schedule.”
They ironed out a few details, and as Harper left, Kinley’s phone rang. “Moran.”
“Julia Manchester here.”
“Hello, Detective. Something’s new since last night?”
“Some information. Nigel Pembroke drained his bank accounts. We flagged them for any action taken.”
“And that means what?”
“He’s planning to run. My guess is after he takes care of you. Did you get the night bodyguard?”
Kinley stood, circled his desk and sat behind it. “I did. And the building owners put on more security as well.”
“We expect Pembroke to act.”
“Quite frankly, he sounds like he’s trying to scare me.”
“That means he’ll string this out for a few days then go in for the…”
“Go in for the kill? Do you think he wants to kill me?”
“We think he’s snapped. Holding a grudge that long does something to your mind.”
Maybe that explained Kinley’s willingness to work on a relationship with the O’Neils. For falling in love with Jamie.
A thought occurred to him. “Could the people I care about be in danger?” After all, it wasn’t Pa Kinley went after. It was the boys. And Bailey.
“That’s why we’re calling. We need a list of people close to you that Pembroke might try to hurt.”
“My cousin, Portia.” He cleared his throat. “Jamie Ralston, and her son Ben. And the O’Neil family.”
“The O’Neils? Are you referring to President Clay Wainwright’s wife and her brothers?”
“Yes. It’s a long story how we’re related.”
“I need a quick rundown.”
“Is that necessary?”
“I’m afraid it is.”
He explained his relationship—his former relationship—with them.
“We’ll talk to them. Meanwhile alert them that we’ll be in contact.”
“Will do.”
When he disconnected, he scrubbed his face with his hands. He’d hoped he’d never have to see these people again. For a long while, he pondered his options. In the end he picked up the phone.
Bailey answered right away. “Kinley, thank God you called.”
“It’s not to make up, Bailey. We think Nigel Pembroke is dangerous. He illegally got into my apartment building last night, and the police believe he could go after the people I…the people in my life.”
“Wait a minute. Who’s Nigel Pembroke?”
“Um, didn’t Jamie tell you?”
“No, she was pretty upset these last couple of days.”
“I’ll tell you the story. I want you to share it with your family so they can take precautions if they want to.” He cleared his throat. “Would you also warn Jamie? Tell her he may try to hurt her or Ben or Jean.”
“I’ll tell the boys and Ma and Pa. You’re on your own about Jamie.”
Shock reverberated through his body. “You honestly won’t help her?”
“No.”
“Why? You shouldn’t be mad at her. None of this was her fault.”
“That’s not why I won’t see her.”
“Then why?”
“I know you’ve ignored her calls and pleas to talk to you. You’ve gotta see Jamie, tell her all this, and let her explain herself.”
“Everything but the last. I won’t listen to her excuses. I’m done with her.”
“And us.” Bailey cleared her throat. “How could you, Kinley? I’ve come to love you. So have the others.” Her voice was still hoarse with emotion.
“Yeah, it was obvious I’m Pat’s favorite person.”
No response.
“Well?” Bailey finally said.
“All right. I’ll see Jamie one more time.”
“When’s he getting here?” Ben asked.
“Any minute now. Play with your toys, honey.”
Jamie had practically had a heart attack when her phone buzzed this morning and she saw the caller ID. He said only the police wanted him to talk to her and would she come by the office. She insisted they meet at her house. She had no qualms about using her son’s relationship with him to change his mind.The front bell rang. “I’ll get it, Mommy.”
“Check to see if it’s him, Ben.”
Her son looked out the side window. “It’s him.” Ben yanked open the door. “Hi, Kinley. I missed you! I have the Clue board all set up and I wanna show you my report card.”
He looked to Jamie. He seemed pissed off. “You play dirty.”
Jamie had come to the conclusion she wouldn’t get another chance with him if she was a doormat. “I do what’s necessary.”
After he removed his suitcoat, he squatted in front of Ben. The breath of his shoulders was more visible at this angle and she remembered curling right into his chest.
“I’d love to see your report card and play a game of Clue. But then I have to talk to Mommy.”
Her son took his hand trustingly. “I’ll wait,” Jamie told him. “Would you like to sit outside?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He spent a half-hour with Ben, then found her on the patio. He sat at the umbrella table across from her. In this light, the sky behind him made the color of his eyes stand out. “The police wanted me to fill you in on what’s happening.”
“Okay.”
As he told her their opinions
, she could feel her face drain of color. “You mean Ben could be in danger? Grandma Jean?”
“And you.”
“So what do we do about it?”
“I’m in the process of hiring a bodyguard for you three. Actually, I’ll get a team so you can be more flexible. But you’re not to go gallivanting around town before Nigel’s caught. You’re confined to the house.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re something else. You hurt me like no man ever has before and you’re ordering me around? Expect me to obey?”
“You’re in danger!” He threw back his chair and bolted up. His stance was rigid. “And to set the record straight, you hurt me more than anything I did you.”
“What you think I did.”
“Are you honestly saying you didn’t tell the O’Neils that our relationship wasn’t that big of a deal?”
“Did I say that? I can’t even remember all of it. I was trying to protect the O’Neils.”
“Well, baby, that’s the point, isn’t it?”
She rose, too, and moved close. “I love you, Kinley. I should have said it in front of them—I told them afterward.” She bit her lip to keep from crying. “I was upset. And frightened. I got confused.”
He grabbed her by the wrist. “You chose them over me.”
“I can see why you think that. But I didn’t. I want to be with you, Kinley. I choose you to love and commit myself to this relationship.”
“But when push came to shove, you couldn’t tell your precious O’Neils that. You couldn’t even tell me.”
“Then forgive me.” She grasped the material of his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
“Never.” He slapped her hand away. “Now, I’m leaving. For good.”
He got halfway through the house, with her following him, when she said, “Don’t get us bodyguards. I won’t allow ones you pay for. I’ll figure this out myself.”
Whirling around, his eyes were burning. “You don’t have the money to afford one, let alone a team.”
“You’re cutting me out of your life, Kinley. I can’t accept money from you. Whatever you think of me, I’m not and never was for sale.”
