“Nothing’s wrong,” Burke assured him. He smiled. Cody didn’t. He had a puzzled look on his face. “It’s just that some folks have to leave to go to other parties, and I want to make a toast to celebrate your new semi-retired status.”
“Of course.” It couldn’t have come at a better time, because a toast and then an exit was the fastest way to get Kinley out of there.
Kinley smiled and fixed her lipstick. Her mouth was trembling a bit, and she looked as if she’d been popped with a stun gun. Again, he hoped that was from the fear. He took her by the arm, and they followed Burke and Cody.
“I give you a week,” Cody said, looking over his shoulder at Jordan. “And you’ll be so bored you’ll be begging Burke to sell you back the company.”
“I doubt that.” There wasn’t a chance of boredom now that Kinley had arrived with her dangerous baggage. Not a chance, either, of his wanting to buy back Sentron. He didn’t intend to go back to working an eighty-hour week.
Well, maybe not.
He’d made that plan when he thought he would have to devote more time to protecting the child that’d been left on his doorstep. Now that Kinley was here, though, his life was in major limbo.
And so were his emotions.
Jordan slowed his pace and hated that ache in the pit of his stomach. But from the moment he’d run that first DNA test, he had known the child wasn’t his. Biologically, anyway. He’d also known that perhaps one day someone would show up and want the baby back.
He just hadn’t counted on it being tonight.
Part of him had hoped it would never happen. He wasn’t one to wish a person harm, but after fourteen months, he had adjusted to the idea that the baby’s biological parents weren’t coming for him. Or that they were dead, killed by the same people who’d murdered Shelly. And then he’d seen Kinley Ford’s DNA he’d pulled from the coffee cup.
She was the biological mother, all right.
Now the question was, what was he going to do about it?
All eyes shifted in their direction when the four returned to the party. To speed things up, Jordan grabbed two glasses of champagne from the waiter, handed one to Kinley and then slid his arm back around her waist. He even gave her a lusty, long look that he figured everyone could interpret.
Burke lifted his glass into the air. “Ten years ago Jordan Taylor created this company from scratch. He trained every agent in this room. Now Jordan’s company and mine, Burke Securities, will be merged to form not just the best, but the biggest personal security agency in the state. I only hope I’ll earn the same loyalty and support that you’ve shown him over the years.” The glass went higher. “To Jordan. Thanks for creating the benchmark of security services. And thanks even more for selling it all to me.”
That brought a few chuckles, and the room echoed with “Hear! Hear!” and applause as others joined the toast.
Jordan took one last look around the room. “I’ll miss this place and all of you.” He shrugged. “Well, maybe not when I’m tossing back shots of Glen Garioch on a private beach somewhere in the Pacific, but I’m sure there’ll be moments when I’ll miss you…a little.”
Jordan forced a smile, took the master keycard from his jacket and handed it to Burke. A symbolic gesture, but one that tugged at his heart. “Don’t run the place into the ground, all right?”
“I won’t,” Burke assured him.
They shook hands, embraced briefly, while some photos were snapped. But Jordan had no intentions of lingering. He’d already said goodbye to his key agents, including Cody, Desmond Parisi and Alonzo Mateo, and he nodded farewell to two of his newer employees, Chris Sutton and Wally Arceneaux. Then, he took a final sip of the champagne, and he set Kinley’s and his glasses aside so they could head for the door.
Cody stepped out of the gathering to hand Kinley her coat. “You might need this,” he added. Still no smile, not even a phony one. He was obviously riled that Jordan had sold the company. One day Jordan might be able to explain to him why he’d done it. “Enjoy your evening.”
Jordan seriously doubted there’d be anything enjoyable about it. He only hoped it didn’t turn deadly.
He helped Kinley with her coat and tried not to rush to the door. Jordan got them out of there and headed to the adjacent parking lot. It was cold, near freezing, and the wind barreled out of the north right at them. He kept her close, snuggled intimately into the crook of his arm, and he kissed her. This time it was on the corner of her mouth in the hopes that it wouldn’t carry the punch of a full-mouth kiss.
It did anyway.
She was attractive. There was no denying that. But he reminded himself that everything about her was a facade. Well, except for the fear. She was trembling, but he was almost certain it wasn’t from the cold.
Kinley looked up at him. “Where’s my—”
Jordan pressed his lips to hers so she couldn’t finish the question. Still walking, he kept his mouth over hers a second and then drew back slightly. “Lip readers,” he mumbled.
Her smoke-gray eyes widened, and she gave a shaky nod, understanding that if someone were filming them, a lip reader would be able to determine anything they said.
Including a question about the child.
They reached his silver Porsche and got inside, behind the bulletproof custom-tinted glass and into a space that would not only conceal them, but was also soundproof. They could see out, but no one could see in. And an alarm would beep if anyone tried to scan the vehicle with thermal or sound detectors. Since Jordan heard no beep, it was safe to talk.
But not necessarily smart to tell her everything he knew.
For now, he couldn’t trust her. Yes, Kinley was the birth mother, and she also knew the code word, but that didn’t mean her maternal instincts had been the reason she’d come to him. He needed more answers about her motives, and while he was finding those answers, he had to continue with more damage control.
“Now can I ask my question?” she wanted to know.
He settled for saying, “It’s safe.”
She didn’t waste any time. “Where’s my son?”
Jordan didn’t waste time, either. “You had to have known the risks of coming to me. So why did you?”
She didn’t get defensive. Thanks to the security lights in the parking lot, Jordan could see her clearly. The light bathed her troubled face and danced off the red crystals on her dress.
“I just needed to know he was alive,” she whispered. “That he was okay. I couldn’t live not knowing.” She scraped her thumbnail over the red polish on her right index finger and flaked it off. “I knew there were risks, but I thought I’d minimized them.”
“Obviously not, if I figured out who you were and what you wanted.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think you had him. I only thought you’d have information. Or rather I hoped you would. I wasn’t very optimistic because I’d read that Shelly and you were enemies, that she embezzled from you.”
Jordan sighed. “That was Shelly’s version of damage control. She didn’t want anyone to be able to link me to the child.”
Still, that hadn’t stopped SAPD and even a federal investigator from questioning him. It also hadn’t stopped three different P.I.s, who’d been hired by God knows who to find out what’d happened in the last minutes of Shelly’s life. Jordan figured all three P.I.s had probably worked for the same person, but he’d never been able to dig through the layers of security and paperwork to come up with a name. Or a reason why the baby was so important.
But that was something Kinley could perhaps tell him.
He used the car’s mirrors to glance around the parking lot. “You’re a cautious woman,” he remarked. “Would you know if someone had followed you?”
“I thought I would. But I was obviously wrong.”
“Other than me, would you know if someone had followed you?” He wasn’t being cocky. He was just better than most at that sort of thing.
“People have followed me in
the past, but after I left witness protection this last time, I haven’t noticed anyone.”
That didn’t mean someone wasn’t there. Jordan had another look at those mirrors.
“You gave up your company for my son,” she said. Not a question, nor an accusation. Her voice was heavy with emotion.
He glanced at her and decided to change the subject. “I’m going with two possible theories here. First, that the child’s father is behind all of this danger.”
She was shaking her head before he even finished. “No. He’s dead. He died trying to murder me and my brother.”
Okay. That was a story he knew a little about but wanted to hear more of later. “Second theory. Someone wants the baby for leverage. The people after you want information, and they believe if they have your child, they’ll be able to manipulate you into giving them what they want.”
Kinley stared at him so long he wasn’t sure she would jump on to this subject change, but she finally looked away and returned to chipping off her nail polish. “The research facility where I was employed was working on several projects. One was the chemical weapon antidote that I told you about. Several researchers were working on it, and occasionally, I assisted them.”
“Assisted?” He latched right on to that and mentally cursed when he spotted something he didn’t like in the mirror.
Hell.
“Usually I was just a consult for a particular facet of a project,” she explained. “For instance, I only worked on a portion of the formula for the primary antidote. I never got to see the finished results. None of us did. That was the way the facility maintained security.”
Jordan calmly started the car, put on his seat belt and kept his eyes on the mirror. “But even though you don’t have the big picture, you have pieces. Others have pieces. And you have the names of those others.”
“Yes.” That was all she said for several moments. “Brenna Martel was one of the top lab assistants at the research facility. She’s in a federal prison serving a life sentence. But there are others who disappeared after the facility was destroyed and the federal investigation started.” Another pause. “I’ve written notes about the research, and I’ve gone over them a thousand times, but I just don’t know why someone would still be after me.”
“Notes?” he questioned.
“They’re encrypted,” she huffed, obviously noting his concern. “I wouldn’t just leave information like that lying around for anyone to see.”
But someone would look hard for info like that. “And these notes are where exactly?”
“Hidden in my apartment.”
Jordan didn’t even have to think about this. “I want to see them.” In fact, he wanted to study them and then interrogate Kinley and put anyone in those notes under surveillance until all of this finally made some sense.
“I can show you what I have,” she answered. “But I want to see Maddox.”
He glanced at her, frowned. “Who the hell is Maddox?”
“My son,” she said as if the answer were obvious. “That’s what I named him. You didn’t know?”
“No. Shelly didn’t get around to that when she left him on my doorstep.” Jordan had been calling him Gus. “And I couldn’t exactly go digging for his name or paternity, now could I?”
“No.” Despite the fear and the seriousness of their situation, she smiled softly. “Do you have a picture of him?”
“Not a chance. And as for you seeing him, that’s not gonna happen until you can convince me that you’re here as a mother and not as someone who wants to use him as a pawn in some sick game.”
The smile vanished, and her mouth opened in outrage. “I wouldn’t do that. God, what do you think I am?”
“You’re a woman who left her baby with a bodyguard because it was too dangerous to keep him with you. The danger’s still there.” He glanced in the mirror again.
“I know that,” she snapped. “Shelly had been my friend since high school. I trusted her. And she died protecting my son. If I could change that I would. But I can’t. And I’ve searched and searched, and I can’t make the danger go away.” The minitirade seemed to drain her, and she groaned and rested her head against the back of the seat.
Jordan huffed, glanced in the mirror again and tried not to let her emotion get to him. He didn’t want sympathy or pity playing into this. “This isn’t convincing me that you should be mother of the year.”
That brought her head off the seat. “I don’t want to be mother of the year. I simply want my son.”
“And then what?” he challenged.
“I take him and I find someplace safe.” Her voice grew softer. “If necessary, we’ll live our lives in hiding, but we’ll do that together.”
Not anytime soon, she wouldn’t. Maybe not ever. Jordan didn’t intend to hand over Gus until he was damn sure that it was safe to do so, and Kinley hadn’t done anything to convince him of that.
“So, what do we do now?” she asked.
“Soon, we’ll go to your apartment and get those notes.” However, he also had a more pressing problem. “But for now we’ll just drive, and we’ll see if that guy parked up the street plans to follow us.”
She snapped toward the side mirror and stared into the glass. “What guy?”
“Black sedan near the intersection.”
Her breath suddenly went uneven. “How long has he been there?”
“He arrived not long after we got in the car. It could be nothing,” he admitted. But Jordan didn’t believe that.
It was likely a huge something.
“Put on your seat belt,” he instructed. As he eased out of the parking lot, Jordan kept his attention fastened to his rearview mirror so he could watch the other vehicle.
It pulled out just seconds after they did.
Hell.
Jordan drew his Sig Sauer and got ready for the worst.
Chapter Three
Kinley’s heart dropped.
This couldn’t be happening. She’d been so careful and so sure that no one had followed her. Yet, the black car was there and made the same turn Jordan did when he drove away from the Sentron building.
She felt sick to her stomach. And she was terrified. She had to do something to stop this.
But what?
What she couldn’t do was call the police. That would likely alert the wrong people, and it’d be impossible to explain everything that had happened. That kind of explanation could get her son hurt.
“Let me out,” she insisted. “Maybe he’ll follow me and won’t connect any of this to my son.”
“Too late. We’re already connected. I’m just hoping this person is curious, that’s all, and we can convince him that we’re together because we’re would-be lovers.”
Maybe. But she hated to risk that much on a maybe. She stared in the side mirror. The car stayed steady behind them. “Any idea who is back there?”
“Nope. But I hope to change that.” Placing his gun on his lap, Jordan took out his cell phone, and he pressed in some numbers.
“Cody,” Jordan said when the man apparently answered. “I’m traveling north on San Pedro, and I have a shadow. Can you slip away from the party and run a visual?” A moment later, Jordan ended the call. “Cody will get back to me when he has something.”
Kinley latched on to that hope but still had her doubts. “He’ll be able to see the person following us? How?” she wanted to know.
“Traffic cameras. We might know soon who’s after us. And knowing who might tell us why. We might get lucky. This could be someone from witness protection. It might not have anything to do with Gus.”
“Gus?”
Jordan huffed. “That’s what I call your son.”
She repeated it under her breath. It was hard to pin that name to her baby. She’d always thought of him as Maddox. But then, she hadn’t seen him in fourteen months. He wouldn’t even know her.
But her son obviously knew Jordan.
Where had Jordan kept him all
this time? What kind of a caregiver had he been? Kinley wanted to know every precious detail of what she’d missed, but first, they had to deal with the person in that black car.
She checked the mirror again, as did Jordan. The car was still there—at a distance but menacing. “Will you try to lose the guy?”
“Not just yet. I want to give Cody some time to get a photo so he can use the facial recognition program.”
“Good,” she mumbled.
“Well, maybe not good. Remember, I’ve identified others who’ve followed me, and I’ve never been able to link it back to the person who hired them.” He glanced at her. “That’s where you can help. Think hard. Who could have known that you left Gus with Shelly?”
She pulled in a long breath. “I’ve already thought hard, and I don’t believe anyone knew. After all, Shelly had him for nearly a month before the trouble started.”
“Okay. Then what started the trouble?”
Kinley had thought hard about this as well. “A lot of bad things happened around that time. I was drawn out of hiding because someone was trying to kill my brother, Lucky. He’s a P.I., and he started looking for the head researcher, Dexter Sheppard, because Lucky believed Dexter had murdered me. He obviously hadn’t, but Dexter had convinced me and his lab assistant, Brenna Martel, to fake our deaths and his in that explosion.”
“Why do that?” Jordan wanted to know.
“Because Dexter said it was the only way for us to stay alive. He had taken money from the wrong people, and he’d promised to deliver a chemical weapon that we couldn’t deliver. He convinced me that all of us would die if I went to the authorities.”
“And you believed him?”
“Yes,” she said with regret. “I guess Dexter did a good job faking my death because my brother thought I was indeed dead. But he didn’t think the same of Dexter. He thought Dexter was in hiding but couldn’t find him. So, Lucky followed Dexter’s sister, Marin, to Fall Creek, a small town not too far from here. And when the attempts to kill both Marin and my brother started all over again, I knew I had to do something to try to save them.”
Christmas Guardian Page 3
