by Joanna Wayne
“How did you manage this? Even PPS can’t get delivery that fast.”
“The guys who were working today ordered in. This was an extra.”
“I was thinking I’d be lucky to get stale crackers and peanut butter.” She took her first bite and trailed a string of cheese from the paper plate to her mouth.
“Mmm.” She licked a bit of the sauce from her lips. “Messy but delicious.” She finished that slice in record time and started on her second, stopping to wipe her mouth every few bites and still getting some sauce on her shirt.
“Good that your agent friends aren’t in here to see how messy your client is.”
Jack reached over and dabbed at her mouth with a clean napkin. “They could still be watching. You’re on camera.”
“You have cameras in the lounge?”
“We have cameras everywhere, so don’t do anything inside these walls you don’t want to show up on someone’s monitor.”
She scanned the room. “You’re lying. I don’t see any cameras in here.”
“You see that can of mushroom soup on the shelf?”
“I see it, but you’re not going to tell me that’s a camera?”
“Takes a picture through a hole the size of a pin prick and shows a view of half the room.”
“I’m impressed. Are there more?”
“A couple.”
She wiped her mouth again, just in case. “Let me see if I can locate one.” She scanned the room again, slowly this time. “Is that box of crackers a camera?”
“No.”
“Is there one in the ceiling fan?”
“Not in this room.”
She glanced at her watch. Mitchell should be arriving any minute. “Okay, I give up. Show me.”
“The picture on the wall behind me of the two kids on skis.”
“No way. That’s a photograph.”
“And a camera. It’s in one of the snaps in the boy’s jacket. And the fake electrical switch box by the door.”
“It looks just like the real ones.”
“That’s the point.”
She devoured her third slice of pizza before the pangs of hunger ceased. Jack was on his fourth and still going strong.
“Don’t you think we can cancel the meeting with Mitchell since we know Hal killed Nick?”
“I know you want to believe this is over. Believe me, I do, too, but…”
“You have your doubts.”
“There are too many unanswered questions.”
And in spite of the list, the gun and the picture, he wasn’t convinced. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. And just that fast the doubts crept back inside her.
“Okay, Jack, but I need to freshen up a bit before we meet with Mitchell. Is there a ladies’ room nearby?”
“On the way to the conference room. Wait and I’ll go with you. I’ll have to unlock the door.”
“Don’t tell me there’s an eye scan on the bathroom door?” she asked as she dropped her paper plate and napkins into the trash.
“No, just card access.”
She thought he might be kidding, but when they reached the restroom a few minutes later, he shoved a hotel-style key into the slot and two green lights flickered. She pushed through the door, then stopped.
“Everywhere except the bathroom,” he assured her, then winked and left her to take care of business in the one room in PPS headquarters that fortunately had no hidden cameras.
JACK AND KELLY WERE SEATED in comfortable, upholstered chairs on opposite ends of the small oak conference table when Elisha ushered Mitchell into the sunlit room. The wear and tear of the last few days showed in his face and reminded Kelly how close he and Nick had been.
She stood and embraced him. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.”
He exchanged greetings with Jack and took a seat, placing a black leather briefcase on the table before turning back to Kelly. “Have you decided to let me charter you a flight home tomorrow?”
The guy was very persistent, but then she already knew that about him. “Not at this point.”
“I guess Kelly staying here is your recommendation, Mr. Sanders.”
“It is, but I’m glad to hear you’re concerned about Kelly and Alex. I know you’d like to see Nick’s killer arrested almost as much as Kelly would.”
Mitchell nodded. “I think that matter’s best left to the Denver Police Department, but I’ll answer your questions if I can.”
“I appreciate that. Let’s start with Hal Hayden. What do you know about his and Nick’s relationship?”
“Nick gave him bit parts in his last two films, and they were friends.”
So much for honesty, Kelly thought. And if Mitchell lied about that, how could they believe anything else he said? But then she really couldn’t fault him for staying loyal to Nick.
“Were there problems in their relationship?” Jack continued.
“Aren’t there in every relationship? Though I think friendship is the more appropriate terminology here.”
“Let me rephrase that,” Jack said. “Have any recent problems developed in their friendship?”
Mitchell crossed his arms in front of him. “I suppose I can tell you the same thing I told Detective Carter when he called this morning. Nick had some concerns that Hal was taking advantage of him.”
“What made him think that?”
“Nick’s very generous with all his friends. Cars, trips, season tickets to the Lakers. He bought me a new Porsche when I successfully negotiated his last contract. When times are good, he shares the wealth. That’s just the way he is. I’m sure Kelly’s told you that.”
And when times were bad, he invested in get-rich-quick schemes—and still threw money around as if he printed it in the back room. But that was Nick.
“Since Nick and Hal were friends, he must have been generous with Hal, too,” Jack said.
“Only Hal didn’t wait for Nick to offer. He pushed for things, and even bought things on his own and then expected Nick to pay for them.”
“And they’d argued about this?”
“I don’t know. Look, I really don’t feel right talking about this with you. Whatever Nick did, he meant well, and I know too little about Hal to voice an opinion.” He tuned his gaze to Kelly. “Don’t you grieve for your husband at all, Kelly? Have you just written him off as if he never existed, as if he isn’t Alex’s father?”
“I’ll grieve for him, Mitchell, in my own time, in my own way. I’ll grieve for him when the fear shuts down and I don’t have to think that he dragged my daughter into danger. I’ll grieve for him then. Right now, I’m too busy making sure the two of us stay alive.”
Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she wouldn’t give in to them this time. She didn’t owe Mitchell an explanation of what she was going through right now.
“I’m sorry, Kelly. I didn’t mean that the way you took it.”
The tension in the room multiplied a hundredfold. If there had been a chance Mitchell would cooperate, it was probably lost now.
Jack stayed calm. She didn’t know how he did it.
“I’m just going to lay it out straight, Mitchell. I’m clutching at straws, trying to protect Kelly and Alex. At this point I have to assume that Nick’s murder and the attack on Kelly are related, so I have to look at Nick’s life. And I have to ask questions. All I’m asking from you are some answers. They’re not to desecrate Nick’s memory. They’re to save lives. So, please, level with me.”
Mitchell nodded. “Okay.”
“Are you aware that Nick was in serious financial trouble?”
“I know how much money he makes and that he must spend every penny of that supporting his lifestyle, but I’m not aware of how much he has in the bank or how much he owes. I expect the ratio is not good. He wasn’t one of the top-paid actors. He just liked to live as if he were.”
Surprisingly, it seemed as if Mitchell had decided to cooperate. Either her outburst or J
ack’s steady determination had gotten through to him.
“Do you know anything about his investments with TCM?” Jack asked.
Mitchell exhaled slowly as if he were releasing pure steam. “I warned him not to get involved with them the same way I’ve warned him about all those other investment schemes he falls into. Obviously, he didn’t listen to me.”
“Don’t get upset by this next question, Mitchell. Just think it through, and try to be as honest as you can. It’s important. Do you know of any business dealings Nick’s been involved in that could possibly involve theft, blackmail, or any other criminal activity?”
“No, of course not. I would have stepped in if I’d thought he was into anything illegal. My reputation was tied up with his. If he goes down, I go down. That’s the way it works in this business.”
“Do you know of any bank accounts Nick opened outside the United States?”
“He’s never mentioned any.”
“Do you think it’s even remotely possible that Hal Hayden killed Nick?”
“Hal? Why would he kill the goose that laid the golden egg?”
“Unless Kelly has something to add, I guess that covers it,” Jack said.
“I have one question.”
“Go ahead,” Mitchell said.
“How long had Nick been taking amphetamines?”
“Ever since he started hanging out with Hal.”
Kelly’s chest tightened. “You were always so determined that Nick not do anything to blow his public image. If you knew he was taking drugs, why didn’t you stop him?”
“I tried. He kept insisting he had everything under control, but he didn’t, and he wasn’t going to as long as Hal was around.”
“Why didn’t you mention the drugs to me?”
“Why would I? The only communication between the two of you concerned Alex, and this didn’t affect her.”
“I should have been the judge of that.”
Mitchell stood and walked over to stand beside Kelly. “We both know Nick wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man at heart. He loved life and had a hell of a lot of potential if he could have gotten his priorities straight. I’ll miss him. I’ll miss him a lot. And, Kelly, I’m still here for you. If you need anything at all, just call.”
“Thanks, Mitchell. I will call, and we’ll get together soon.”
She wondered if Nick had realized what a great friend and champion he’d had in Mitchell Caruthers.
Sunday, 9:30 p.m.
The Single S
JACK STRETCHED and stared at his empty coffee cup wondering if he dared add more caffeine to his system. He’d been at the kitchen table for the last three hours trying to make sense of all of this. The evidence and clues were piling up, all pointing at Hal Hayden, but missing several key pieces to the puzzle.
If Nick and Hal had argued after the premiere and Nick had broken up with him, then Hal might well have shot him in a crime of passion. But that didn’t explain a hit man for Kelly.
He heard Kelly stirring about the den. He’d avoided her ever since they’d returned to the ranch, even making an excuse not to have the supper of soup and sandwiches with her and Alex.
He couldn’t look at her now without thinking of the kiss. It had become a tangible thing that hovered between them whenever they were alone together.
The kiss brought it all back home for him. The ride up Canyon Road was as vivid in his mind tonight as it had been fourteen years ago. All that time, and she’d never once been out of his heart.
But that wasn’t what today’s kiss was about for Kelly.
He’d seen similar outbursts too often when he was in the army. One of your buddies gets killed and you go out and get laid. Not driven by love but by fear and walking too close to death. By the need for release.
She was vulnerable now, afraid and grieving for a man she hadn’t loved, but who had nonetheless been part of her life. She needed a friend—might even need more, like strong arms to hold her while she cried. What she didn’t need was all his pent-up emotion dumped on her. Her needs were temporary. His had been nurtured by memories and longing for fourteen years.
He heard Kelly’s footfalls behind him, but didn’t look up, not even when he felt her hand on his shoulder.
“Jack.” Her fingers trailed the back of his neck, and in spite of his good intentions he had to fight to keep from turning and pulling her into his arms.
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember that night on Canyon Road?”
Chapter Eleven
Sunday, 9:35 p.m.
Single S Ranch
Jack’s breath burned in his lungs as he fought the overwhelming attraction. If he looked at Kelly, he’d kiss her. If he kissed her, it would never stop there.
“You were the forbidden man about campus, the guy who didn’t follow anyone’s rules. The guy who took risks and lived on the edge. The guy mothers warned you about and fathers forbade you to go near. Going with you that night was the most daring and thrilling thing I’d ever done.”
“I was just a kid who was too dumb to steer clear of trouble.”
“Not in my mind. When I climbed on your bike that night, I wanted to ride forever, just you and me, fast and flying around the curves. But then you rode your bike off the road and stopped on the very edge of the canyon. We climbed off and you put your windbreaker on the grass for me to sit on. Do you remember what you said then?”
“No.” All he remembered was the blood rushing to his head and thinking he’d go crazy if he didn’t have her—the same as he felt right now.
“You told me to look at the sky. There were a million stars, twinkling like diamonds. And you said that I sparkled more brilliantly than any of them.”
“I said that?”
“Word for word.”
“How do you remember all of that?”
“I locked all the memories from that night away in my mind. I was afraid I might never feel that kind of magic again.”
Jack was losing ground fast. Still he had to push to stay sane. “You think things like that at eighteen.”
Her thumbs trailed his earlobes. “I’m thirty-two years old, Jack Sanders. I’m still waiting to feel that kind of passion again.”
“Kelly.” Her name was a moan on his lips. In every dream, through countless army rescue missions, through nights shattered by death and enemy fire, it had always been thoughts of Kelly that had got him through. The memories merged with reality as he gave up the battle to resist.
He stood and pulled her into his arms. A warning went off in his head. But the warning was too little, and much too late. He claimed her mouth, kissing her over and over, aching with a need more intense than any he’d ever known.
Her fingers twisted in his hair and her arms wound tightly around his neck. She was pressed against him, so close he could feel her heart beating. He roamed her back with his hands, then slid them beneath her sweater and splayed his fingers against her soft skin.
He fought the impulse to take her right here on the kitchen floor, to take her wildly the way they’d made love on Canyon Road.
Her hand slipped between his thighs, and his heart beat so loudly it almost overrode the sudden piercing ring of his phone.
“Let it ring,” Kelly whispered. “Just let it ring.”
He tried, but his sense of responsibility finally got through his passion-fogged brain. “I have to see who it is, but don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”
He checked the ID. Damn. There was no way he could let the call go unanswered.
“Jack, it’s Karen Butte. I’m glad I caught you.”
“What’s up?”
“Did I interrupt anything important? You sound winded.”
“I can talk.”
“I have to make this quick. Are you involved with Nick Warner’s murder in any way?”
“I’m protecting his wife and daughter.”
“I surmised as much since you were in their hotel suite Friday morning.”
; “Why the call?”
“I need some information from Nick’s wife about his investments. I wouldn’t ask her at a time like this, if it wasn’t a matter of life and death.”
“Whose life?”
“I can’t talk now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Tomorrow morning. Meet me at 227 Spruce Drive, apartment 204-B, nine o’clock.”
She broke the connection before he could ask more. Karen Butte was used to playing hardball, but she was nervous tonight. Or scared. Something big was about to blow, and whatever it was involved Nick Warner and possibly Kelly.
“Who were you talking to? You look upset.”
Upset and consumed again with keeping her from the hands of a killer. The moment between the two of them had passed. But they’d crossed a line that allowed no going back. And no way to go forward until the danger was over and he was certain Kelly and Alex were safe.
Then, whether they made love or not, Kelly would go back to her life in Beverly Hills, and he’d be left to spend another fourteen years trying to forget her.
Monday, 8:47 a.m.
En route to Karen Butte’s apartment
KELLY WAS APPREHENSIVE yet hopeful, running on adrenaline and caffeine that overrode her fatigue. She’d lain awake for hours last night, one minute haunted by the horrors of the last three days, the next drowning in erotic thoughts of Jack.
It might be wrong to have such sensual urges when her life was in total chaos and the man she’d called her husband wasn’t even in the ground. But life had never seemed more fragile and precious, and she wouldn’t let herself be sorry for being alive and feeling passion in her soul.
Whatever happened between her and Jack, she refused to let it be sullied by regrets or misplaced guilt.
Jack had wanted her to stay at the ranch with Alex and the PPS agent who had reported for duty. She’d insisted she go with him, and finally he’d given in. After all, she was the one the investigative reporter wanted to talk to. Her being there might help bring this all to an end.
“I think this meeting with Karen Butte is going to be the turning point,” she said, breaking the silence that had ridden with them since they’d driven out the back gate of the Single S.
“I hope you’re right, but there’s no guarantee her investigation has anything to do with Nick’s death. More likely it’s an exposé on fly-by-night companies who suck in naive investors.”
