“Thank you, sir.”
Ballard turned to Trey. “Wentworth.”
Trey nodded at the agent.
“Is that the photograph?” Ballard asked, his gaze falling to the frame on the desk.
Trey handed the photograph to the agent who studied it.
“No question that’s one of the kidnappers,” Kelly told him.
Ballard nodded. “Where is our suspect?”
Trey called Hans’s cell. “I need to speak with Ms. Navarre. Escort her to my office.”
“Will she come willingly?” Ballard asked in the silence that followed.
“She doesn’t know anything is wrong,” Trey said.
When Maria entered his office, Trey could hardly stand to look at her. Where he’d once seen a trusted member of his household, he now saw a snake in the grass waiting to lunge with a fatal strike. Even the black eye, supposed proof of her loyalty, had faded.
“Yes, Mr. Wentworth?” she said, casting nervous glances to each of the people in the room.
“Maria, this is Agent Ballard from the FBI. He wants to ask you some questions.”
Maria turned to Ballard. When her gaze zeroed in on the frame in the agent’s hand, her eyes went wide and she raised a hand to her mouth as if to stifle a scream.
She bolted for the door.
Trey jumped to his feet, but Hans blocked her exit, and Kelly quickly moved to assist.
“No! Please.” Wild-eyed, trapped, Maria turned back to the center of the room, tears streaming down a face distorted with the agony of knowing she was caught. Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Ballard pulled her arms behind her and snapped plastic restraints around her wrists. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Maria closed her eyes as if trying to block out the world. Trey tried to muster sympathy but couldn’t. She’d forfeited any right to his pity by endangering an innocent child.
“Do you understand these rights?” Ballard asked when finished.
“Yes,” Maria whispered. “I understand.”
Head down, shoulders slumped, Maria looked like a stranger to Trey as Ballard led her to a chair before his desk.
When she was seated, Ballard placed Adam’s photo on the desk and slid it toward her. “We want to know the location of this man.”
She raised her head from the photo and met Trey’s gaze with a pleading look.
“Why, Maria?” Trey demanded. “For God’s sake, why?”
“I never meant for Jasonito to be hurt.”
“I trusted you with my son.”
She looked away. “I needed money.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for it?” Trey said.
“I was afraid. Adam told me...” She shook her head as she trailed off.
“What did he tell you?” Ballard demanded.
“He told me a lot of lies,” she whispered.
“Where is he, Maria?” Ballard demanded again, tapping the photograph.
Maria took a deep breath and nodded. “I will tell you everything.”
* * *
WHEN KELLY ENTERED her station house the next morning—thankfully on time—she had so much to think about she couldn’t concentrate on one issue. She was itching to know what was going on with Maria, but hadn’t heard from Ballard since the arrest. He’d promised to keep her in the loop, but of course he hadn’t. Jerk.
But she had other problems, worse problems. Trey had been devastated by Maria’s betrayal, and she’d ached for him last night after Ballard took the housekeeper away, and had lain awake in bed for hours tempted to go to him, make love to him to make him feel better. To make them both feel better.
And what did that say about her? She was in way too deep. Tonight would be her last night at Wentworth Villa, although Trey would no doubt use Maria’s absence as leverage to get her to stay and comfort his son. She had to resist any persuasion he might use.
She needed to return to reality. Until a week ago, being a cop had been all she cared about.
“Hey, Kelly.”
Kelly refocused and smiled at Sean O’Malley, a friend and fellow rookie from her class.
“How’s it going, Sean?” He’d been part of the study group created by her, Patrice, Lana and Dale Baldwin, another trainee.
“Can’t complain,” Sean said. “Although nothing like your life these days.”
Kelly paused. She’d always liked Sean, but why was he grinning at her so strangely? In fact, as she became aware of her surroundings, everyone was staring at her, looking away quickly when she made eye contact. That many people acting squirrelly couldn’t be her imagination. What was going on?
Lana appeared and grabbed her elbow. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay,” Kelly said, pushing open the locker room door. “What’s up?”
“Wait,” Lana said, her voice low and urgent. “Before you...”
Kelly heard laughter as her gaze zeroed in on a large photograph stuck to her locker. A photograph of her on the deck of Trey’s yacht. Holding a margarita. Wearing her bikini.
Beneath a three-inch headline that screamed Wentworth Heir Picks New Mother, on the front page of The National Intruder.
“They wouldn’t let me take it down until you saw it,” Lana said.
Kelly marched into the locker room, ripped the newsprint off her locker and stared at it.
“Is this real?” she demanded.
Lana followed her inside. “There’s one in the men’s locker room, too.”
“But is this really the front page of this stupid tabloid or did someone Photoshop it to haze a rookie?”
“It’s real,” Lana said. “Today’s edition. Someone bought a stack of Intruders and placed them in the break room.”
“Oh, my God,” Kelly breathed.
Patrice appeared at her side. “At least you look good, girl. I gotta say I understand why Wentworth wants to keep you around.”
“Jenkins.”
Kelly looked up at the barked command. Sergeant McFadden lurked at the door of the locker room.
“A moment of your time, please, Officer.”
Kelly crumpled the paper into a tight ball and slammed it into a trash can as she moved to the door, her heart pounding. But McFadden passed his own desk and marched her straight into Lieutenant Marshall’s office.
A copy of The National Intruder lay on Marshall’s desk.
She stood at attention before her lieutenant, her gaze straight ahead. How bad was this going to be?
“That will be all, Sergeant,” Marshall said.
When the door closed, Marshall said, “As you were, Officer. In fact, why don’t you sit.” Marshall motioned to a chair.
Kelly gratefully collapsed into the padded seat, but kept her spine as erect as she could manage.
Marshall held up the front page. “I take it you’ve seen this?”
“Just now, sir. I haven’t read the text.”
“They have your name and the fact that you are a Miami-Dade County police officer. The story suggests you’re involved in the payoff scandal being reported by the Miami Herald.”
“What? That’s impossible. I never even patrolled the district involved.” She gaped at her lieutenant. Surely he didn’t believe such a ridiculous fabrication.
“Understood, but you’re living on the most expensive piece of real estate in the county.”
Kelly swallowed, tasting something bitter.
“Paparazzi are also surrounding police headquarters downtown,” Marshall continued. “Brass isn’t happy.”
“I don’t know what to say, sir.”
“Can you explain this photograph?”
“Yeste
rday was my day off. Wentworth took his son out on his boat and asked me to go with them.” She shrugged. “Another boat went by and its occupants snapped photos with their phones. I had no idea one would end up on the front page of a tabloid.”
“This photo is from an expensive long range lens,” Marshall said. “Not a cell phone.”
She’d assumed the photo was courtesy of the idiots who had zoomed too close to Drop Shot, but remembered the boat anchored in the distance. Had they been paparazzi?
“Of course, your private life is your own business, Officer Jenkins. You can date whoever you want.”
“Sir, I’m not dating Wentworth. Yes, I’ve been pretending to be his son’s mother, but that ends tonight.”
Marshall’s brows went up. “You’re leaving his residence?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The son has regained his memory?”
“No, sir. Not yet.”
“You’re sick of being the guest of a billionaire?”
“I just want my life back.” But is it already too late?
Marshall nodded and stared at her as if he knew precisely why she was leaving. The fact that she’d wear a skimpy bikini in front of Trey obviously left the wrong impression. She could have worn her competition swimsuit.
“That’s probably a wise choice,” Marshall said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Because of the corruption allegations, the department has no choice but to take this report seriously. Internal Affairs has opened an investigation.”
“Oh, my God,” Kelly breathed. Internal Affairs? This couldn’t be happening.
“As of today, you’re off patrol, Officer Jenkins,” he said in a firm voice, one that told her there would be no discussion.
“Off patrol, sir?”
“You’ll have to ride a desk until IA completes their investigation.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
IN HIS OFFICE digging through the disaster that was the latest quarterly statement from Wentworth Industries—even analyzing his father’s mistakes was better than thinking about Maria’s betrayal—Trey heard his cell buzz. He checked the readout and relaxed. Joe Schwartz. Despite the fact that the man was his father’s PR genius, Trey had always liked Joe.
“Yeah, Joe?”
“I just sent you an email,” Joe said. “There’s a photograph attached. You need to open it.”
With a sense of foreboding, Trey opened his email account and found Joe’s message. He clicked on the attachment, and a grainy photo of Kelly on the deck of Drop Shot materialized.
“What is this?” he asked. “Does someone want money?”
“It’s the cover of today’s National Intruder.”
“You mean it’s already out there?”
“Yes.”
Trey enlarged the attachment and stared at the huge headline: Wentworth Heir Picks New Mother.
He cursed. How did the Intruder get that part of the story? Hell, the media always found a way.
He hated this. Kelly was going to hate this.
Did she know about the story yet?
“You know Wentworth Industries shies away from any tawdry publicity,” Joe said.
“You mean my father does.”
“He wants to do damage control.”
Trey sighed. Of course he did.
“I wanted you to know what was happening on this end,” Joe said.
“I appreciate that, Joe, but wouldn’t it be better to just ignore the story?”
“Your father doesn’t think so.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think it’s time you took your rightful place on the board of directors.”
Trey laughed softly. “Not yet, Joe.”
“When?”
“Has my father announced his retirement?”
“If that’s what you’re waiting for, there could be a hostile takeover before you make your move.”
Trey glanced at the financials. “It’s not that bad.”
“His time has passed, Trey. You need to step up.”
“Soon, Joe. Sooner than I originally planned.”
“Don’t wait much longer,” Joe said. “Listen, I’ll be issuing a statement later today with our usual denial of any relationship with this woman.”
“I’m not certain that’s accurate.”
“Obviously. She’s living in your home.”
Trey nodded. Of course the tabloids had figured that out. And the Intruder cover wouldn’t help his case to convince Kelly to stay. Or would it? If she moved back to her apartment, photographers would be all over her. The paparazzi couldn’t get to her while on Collins Island.
But should he publicly deny any relationship with her? A sexy photo on the cover of the most sensational tabloid in the country wouldn’t be good for her career. Could she be disciplined for something that wasn’t her fault? A quick denial might cool things off for her, placate her bosses.
“All right,” Trey said. “Issue your usual denial.”
* * *
AFTER HER SHIFT, where she sat at a desk answering the phone the whole day and didn’t hear one fricking word from Ballard, Kelly exited the station and came to a stunned halt.
“Kelly, over here! How is Jason?”
“Do you take kickbacks?”
“Are you and Trey Wentworth involved?”
In the middle of the mob of shouting photographers, she spotted Hans holding open the door to the limo. She ducked her head, dashed toward him and jumped inside.
A horde of loud motorcycles followed the limo. At the first stoplight, she pulled the curtains so no one could snap her photo.
“You all right back there?” Hans asked over the intercom. The privacy shield was up.
“Just peachy,” she said and folded her arms waiting for the limo to move again. She couldn’t block out the world in her patrol car. Marshall had been right to bench her.
How had she descended into this madness? This was not her life. And now IA had opened an investigation on her. They’d find nothing, but would it always be a blemish on her record?
Her cell phone buzzed. Ballard at last.
“Jenkins,” she answered.
“Maria lawyered up,” Ballard said without preamble. “We got her a public defender. It took a while, but we struck a deal and she gave up Adam.”
“Is he in custody?”
“Not yet. He’s holed up in Homestead, and we’re taking him down at first light. Do you want in?”
Yes! Kelly made a fist and thrust it into the air. “You bet I do.”
“Yeah, well, this is partly your collar. I’ll clear it with your lieutenant.”
“Thank you.” No way would Marshall say no to the FBI considering the circumstances. Between the corruption allegations and the Intruder cover, a little positive press would be welcome. And a good outcome could help her problems with IA.
“This operation won’t be a cakewalk,” Ballard continued. “Maria claims his home is like an armory. From her description, there may be an assault rifle. Wear your vest.”
“Understood. What’s the story with Adam and Maria?”
“They’re both junkies. Her habit started with prescription meds after a car accident two years ago. They met at rehab.”
“Nice,” Kelly said. So Maria’s addiction began subsequent to her employment with Trey, which explained why the background check didn’t reveal her problem. And Trey wouldn’t know what to look for once it started.
“When her new boyfriend found out where she worked, he cooked up the kidnapping plan,” Ballard continued.
“Hard to believe she’d go along with it, though.”
“He’s abusive. She’s afraid of him. He even instructed her
to get at your service weapon.”
By the end of her conversation with Ballard, the limo was safely on the ferry. Kelly stashed the tactical information about when and where to meet Ballard’s team in a pocket, and gave it a quick pat. She lifted her feet into the air and pumped her legs, wishing she could break into a run.
Finally some good news. The FBI had invited her along on Adam’s takedown. She could function like a real cop again. She just had to get to the meet location without being followed.
When the limo arrived at Wentworth Villa, Kelly went straight to her room, locked up her weapon and tossed belongings into her suitcase. She only had to get through one more night. One more night, and then she would have her life back.
Or would she?
She collapsed on the bed, hugging a pair of shorts to her chest.
So many things had changed. For one thing, she didn’t have a car, and the insurance company hadn’t yet issued a check. Trey would loan her a vehicle, but for how long? She couldn’t keep a loaner forever. How was she supposed to get back and forth to work? Would the media continue to hound her? If so, would Marshall suspend her? Terminate her?
“You’re going away, too, aren’t you?”
Kelly looked up at the sound of a small voice. Wearing a solemn expression, Jason stood at the threshold of her room, his gaze glued to her suitcase.
She sucked in a deep breath. She had to have this conversation with him sooner or later. But how could she explain why she had to go?
“Hi, Jason,” she said brightly as he moved toward her. “Did you have a nice day?”
He shook his head. “I miss Maria.”
“I know you do, and I’m sorry,” Kelly said. God, but the timing of her departure couldn’t be worse. Feeling like a jerk, she hugged him close. As she breathed in his sweet fragrance, she closed her eyes against an unexpected rush of tears. She’d miss seeing him every day. Obviously, she’d allowed herself to care about Jason too much. Yeah, maybe he was a little spoiled, but that wasn’t his fault. He’d been through so much, and now she was adding to his losses.
He wiggled away and sat on the bed beside her. “I know a secret,” he told her.
“You do?” she asked.
The Billionaire's Son Page 20
