Christmas Guardian

by Delores Fossen

  “Of course.” But she didn’t move. Kinley took another moment to look around the room. Not just at the windows. But at the mantel over the slate fireplace, the custom carved nightstands, the desk.

  “There aren’t any,” he informed her.

  Her shoulders went back. “Any what?”

  “Pictures of Gus.”

  “Yes. Because of the risk,” she concluded. But there was still disappointment in her eyes.

  Soon, very soon, he wouldn’t be able to dodge her questions. Or her need to see her child.

  But exactly how much and when should he tell her?

  Jordan huffed and watched her reach into the dark gray bag and take out her notes. Kinley was literally the only spot of color in the room. Not that he needed her red sparkly dress to remind him that she was there. His body was certainly attentive to her presence.

  “The notes are encrypted,” she reminded him. “I’ll have to interpret them for you.”

  “Then, start interpreting,” he insisted. Jordan tipped his head toward the bed. “And get comfortable. It’s going to be a long night.”

  She eyed the bed as if it were a coiled snake. Then she eyed him the same way.

  Man, he hoped she couldn’t read his very dirty mind.

  “The bed’s a lot more comfortable than the desk,” Jordan assured her. Better to talk than think the thoughts he was having about stripping that dress off her. “Hit the switch on the side, and it’ll adjust to a sitting position.”

  With the notes gripped in her hand, Kinley approached the bed with caution and sank down onto the mattress. “Oh,” she mumbled.

  Oh, as in she concurred with the comfortable part. Kinley gave the thick feather mattress a couple of test bounces, and she smiled.

  It faded as quickly as it’d come.

  Too bad. She was a knockout when she was scowling, but that smile was good enough to taste.

  Something he wanted to do—bad.

  Thankfully, one of them had the right mind-set because there were no more bounces. No more smiles. Her attention went straight to her notes. “Where should I start?”

  He took a moment, focused and made a mental list. “I need names of everyone who might have had anything to do with the research facility.” He went to the concealed bar, hit the button, and it opened. He offered her a drink by lifting a glass, but she shook her head, declining. Jordan fixed himself a double shot of his favorite scotch.

  Kinley took a deep breath and looked at Jordan instead of her notes. “The lead researcher, Dexter Sheppard, is dead. He died over a year ago when he tried to set explosives that were meant to kill me. The blast killed him instead. Dexter had sold some of his research on the black market, and he didn’t want me around because I could have testified against him and ultimately sent him to prison.”

  “Dexter Sheppard,” he repeated. That was a name that’d popped up while he was checking Kinley’s background. There had been no mention in her background about a personal relationship with Dexter, but there was something in Kinley’s tone that made Jordan suspect that was the case. “He’s Gus’s father?”

  She nodded. Hardly paused. “Grady Duran was his business partner. He’s dead, too. Brenna Martel was an investor and Dexter’s lab assistant. She’s the one in prison. And then there’s Howard Sheppard, Dexter’s father who also was an investor. He’s dead as well.”

  Yeah. Jordan had already learned that after discovering Kinley’s identity. “What about living investors? Any left?”

  “Just Martin Strahan,” she answered, again without looking at the notes. The names were likely branded in her brain. God knew how many times she’d already gone over this. “He’s a businessman from Houston, and he’s the person I’m guessing was behind the initial attempts to kidnap me.”

  Yes, there had been multiple attempts. Attempts that had nearly killed her, too. That’s why Kinley had been placed in the witness protection program.

  Since Martin Strahan’s name seemed uncomfortably familiar, Jordan went to his laptop on the desk, booted it up and ran a flash inquiry. Not using Sentron’s equipment. After the stunt Burke had pulled with the surveillance shutdown, it was best if Jordan stuck with his own toys.

  Within a couple of seconds, he had a photo and bio on this Martin Strahan.

  It was bad news.

  Martin was in his late twenties. Born filthy rich, he’d managed to lose nearly half of his trust fund, something that apparently didn’t please his father, Martin Strahan, Sr.

  “The guy’s ruthless,” Jordan concluded. “He operates just on the edge of the law.” And he was exactly the kind of man who’d try to use Gus to get Kinley to cooperate.

  “That’s what I figured.” Kinley took a deep breath. “He either wants me dead because he’s upset about the money he lost on his investment or he wants me to tell him what he thinks I know.”

  “The latter would be a stronger motive. That way, he might think he can still recoup his money if he can get that missing formula from you.” He tossed back some of the scotch and let it slide through him. It soothed a few muscles that needed relaxing. “Any other living investors and researchers?”

  “I’m the last researcher,” she mumbled. “And the final remaining investor was a silent partner that Dexter referred to only as Simon.”

  Jordan nearly choked on his scotch. “Simon? You’re sure?”

  Concern raced through her eyes. “Why? Do you know him?”

  “Maybe.” Jordan set his drink aside so he could use both hands on the keyboard. “Tell me everything you know about Simon.”

  “I never met him, but he must have been from the San Antonio area because Dexter would leave the lab about once a month to brief him. Dexter wouldn’t be gone long. An hour tops.”

  Oh, yeah. This was not looking good. “How much did this Simon invest?”

  She eased off the bed, walked closer and studied Martin Strahan’s picture that was still on the screen. “Once when I was in Dexter’s office, I saw a financial report. From what I remember, Simon invested about two million in phase one of the project. When that portion of the project sold, it made a huge profit. Something like two hundred and fifty million. As an investor, Simon would have gotten a nice chunk of that, at least a fourth, maybe more.”

  And it would have made Simon a very rich man.

  “Was the project ever called Phoenix?” Jordan asked.

  She sucked in her breath. “Yes. How did you know? That was supposed to be classified.”

  Jordan groaned. “It was classified. I found it when Burke Dennison approached me with an offer to buy Sentron. I had him thoroughly investigated.”

  “Burke?” she questioned.

  “Yeah. He’s Simon. That was the identity that was used on his investment account that was linked to profits from a classified project.”

  And because he needed it, Jordan finished off that drink. Hell. Hell. Hell. This was not a complication he wanted.

  Kinley shook her head. “But what does it mean?”

  “It means Burke and Strahan both got stinking rich off the phase-one deal. It also means they’re the last investors standing. Judging from what I found in Burke’s financials, he put about half his profits into phase two of the research.”

  “So, he’d be out thirty, maybe forty million dollars,” she concluded. She no longer looked shocked. Kinley looked worried.

  “That’s a lot of reasons to find the missing formula, especially since he wouldn’t just get back his investment, he’d stand to earn a big chunk of money when the formula finally sold.” He looked at her. “How much would a chemical weapons antidote earn?”

  She raked her hand through her hair to push it away from her face. “Dexter said the antidote would become a cornerstone for other antidotes and other research. He said it could end up being worth a quarter of a billion.”

  That’s what he was afraid she’d say. And on the black market, it might go for double that.

  People had killed, and kidnapped,
for much, much less.

  “It’s my guess that the person who wants you is an investor,” Jordan pointed.

  “Or someone after the reward money,” Kinley added. “The company that insured the project put up a ten-million-dollar reward.”

  Oh, hell. Yet another reason to come after Kinley. But ten million was a drop in the bucket compared to what a person could make if they got their hands on that formula.

  “Okay, let’s put aside any reward seekers for now and focus on the big guns in this. With only two living investors, that narrows it down. Added to that, Martin Strahan hasn’t surfaced that we know of. Only Burke.”

  “Oh, God.” Kinley repeated it, leaned against the wall and repeated it again. “Does this mean Burke knows you have my son?”

  “Maybe. And maybe he’s just on a fishing expedition.” It might also explain why Burke was following them. And if so, that meant Burke perhaps knew who Kinley really was.

  That was a huge problem that fake kissing or simple damage control couldn’t fix.

  “When did Burke make the offer to buy Sentron?” she asked.

  He knew where this was going. “Three days ago.”

  “That’s when I started following you.”

  Yeah. Did that mean Burke had been watching Kinley all this time? If so, it wouldn’t have been hard to connect the dots when Kinley started spying on him.

  And those dots led right to Gus.

  Kinley groaned, squeezed her eyes shut and, with the wall supporting her back, slid to the floor and sat. Probably because her legs would not hold her. She stayed there a moment, eyes closed, and then she turned toward him. “Wait. If Burke is behind this, why not just kidnap me? If he knew I was following you, then he also could have taken me at any time.”

  There was so much hope in her eyes that Jordan hated to burst her bubble. “He might be waiting to see if you lead him to the missing formula.”

  “That I don’t have,” she reminded him.

  “But if he thinks you do and that you’d be willing to do anything to keep it for yourself or for someone else, he’d look for leverage.” That’s what Jordan would do anyway.

  “Leverage,” she said. Her breath shuddered. “You mean my son.”

  Jordan didn’t verify the obvious.

  She clumsily tried to get back to her feet, giving him a too-clear view of her thigh when her dress shimmied up. She staggered a bit in the high stilettos, and so that she wouldn’t fall, Kinley grabbed on to his shoulder.

  She stared at him. There were tears in her eyes, and they shimmered like the sparkles on her dress. “I have to know my son is okay.”

  “He’s okay. Burke can’t get to him.”

  She frantically shook her head. “But I might have led him to you. To Maddox.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Even if he did follow you, that doesn’t mean the baby’s in danger.” Not immediately anyway. And Jordan knew that reassurances weren’t going to be nearly enough.

  He was right.

  “I need to see him,” she begged. “Please. I need to see my son.”

  Hell. There it was again. That punch of empathy. Once, he would have been able to ignore her plea. Her pain. But that was before Gus. Before he realized that there was something more important in life than his precious company.

  Hoping he didn’t regret this but knowing he would, Jordan used a series of passwords to get into this portion of his security system. Finally, an image appeared on the screen. Not the room with the toy box. Nor any of the other rooms he’d encased with a cyber security shield.

  This was the nursery.

  Because of the late hour, it was dimly lit, but Jordan zoomed into the crib where Gus was sleeping.

  Kinley made a helpless sound. The tears began to stream down her cheeks. And she touched the screen, gently putting her fingers on the image of Gus’s face.

  “He’s so beautiful,” she said, her voice broken by her raw breath.

  Yes. He was.

  “Who’s taking care of him? Who’s tucking him in at night?”

  Jordan debated how much he should tell her. “He has two nannies, both of whom I trust completely.” He’d not only handpicked them, Jordan had trained them himself. And he not only paid them extremely well, he did daily checks to make sure neither of them had betrayed him.

  “And he’s safe?” Kinley asked. “Where?”

  He had another debate. One he lost. Because the truth was, Kinley needed to know. “He’s here.”

  Her eyes widened. “Here?” All breath, no sound.

  Jordan pointed to the door on the far side of the room. “There.”

  “So close,” she muttered. Kinley smeared away the tears on her cheek and bolted right toward the nursery door.

  Chapter Six

  She would see her son.

  Kinley wasn’t about to compromise on that now. This had to happen.

  She threw open the door where Jordan had pointed and came face-to-face with a massive walk-in closet. Certainly not the nursery she’d seen on the computer screen. She looked over her shoulder at Jordan. But instead of an explanation, he calmly closed down the laptop and walked toward her.

  “You can’t stop me from seeing him,” she insisted, though he could. Jordan was in control here. That didn’t prevent her from starting a frantic search of the closet. Maybe there was some secret entrance.

  Kinley pushed aside some suits and checked the wall. No seams except for the corners. Jordan caught her hand when she reached to move more clothes aside. Maybe it was his touch that drew her back to reality, but it suddenly hit her.

  She spun around toward him. “The thermal scanner—”

  “Won’t work in this area,” he interrupted. “It’s secured like the bedroom.”

  Kinley shook her head. “But won’t the person scanning notice an entire area of the estate that’s not accessible on the equipment?”

  “No. The scanner only reads the heat and doesn’t register depth. Besides, the estate is over fifteen thousand square feet. The rooms shielded by metal only make up about one sixth of that space, and they’re not all clumped together. They feed through the house in a random pattern.”

  Maybe because her nerves were right at the surface and were making it hard to focus, Kinley had no idea what that meant. “I just want to see my son.”

  “I know.” There was something in his voice. A sadness, maybe? Or maybe it was simply that he was concerned about revealing the hopefully safe haven he’d created.

  Jordan reached out and opened the middle drawer of the built-in dresser. He reached to the back of the drawer, pressed in some numbers on a keypad, and a door opened. Not on the wall. But on the floor. She hadn’t seen the seam because of the way the slate tiles fit together.

  “Go first,” Jordan instructed.

  Kinley did. In the back of her mind, she considered the danger. That maybe Jordan was leading her here to silence her in some way. But she was surprised to realize that she trusted him.

  Maybe that wouldn’t turn out to be a fatal mistake.

  She went down a flight of stairs that lit up with each step she took. Jordan closed the door behind them and followed her. They were in the basement, and when she reached the bottom, more lights came on. No nursery. No room with a toy box. It was cluttered with large wardrobe boxes. Jordan touched one of those boxes, and it slid to the side to reveal another set of stairs, these leading right back up.

  “A security measure,” he explained.

  And Kinley was thankful for it.

  She hurried up the steps to another door where Jordan used another keypad to press in some numbers. They came face-to-face with a gun. And the tall brunette pointing it at them seemed to know how to use the weapon.

  “It’s okay,” Jordan said to the woman. Only then did she lower the gun.

  The woman still eyed Kinley with suspicion. “You’re sure everything’s all right?”

  Maybe she thought Kinley was coercing Jordan or something. Part of Kinley was
thrilled with the security, and the other part of her hated that her son needed such measures to stay safe.

  “Kinley, this is Elsa, one of Gus’s nannies.”

  Kinley nodded a greeting. Elsa nodded back. But she kept that suspicion in her eyes as she stepped aside so they could enter.

  “The nannies each have their own room,” Jordan explained, pointing to the doors off what appeared to be a playroom. It was filled with toys and painted with bright primary colors, and in the corner was a Christmas tree. “When they need to leave the estate, they dress as maids, and on occasion they help me entertain houseguests. That way, no one will be suspicious if they see them around the place.”

  Good planning. God knew how long it’d taken him to find, and trust, these women.

  Jordan walked to the door straight ahead, took a deep breath and opened it. It was the nursery, the room he’d shown her on the laptop.

  And there was her baby.

  Finally, she’d found him! The tears came in a flash, filling her eyes, but Kinley quickly blinked them away because she wanted to see her precious baby. She’d never doubted this moment would come because she would have never given up her search to find him. But now that he was here, so close, the emotion and the pain of the past fourteen months flooded through her. God, she had missed him so much.

  Kinley couldn’t stop herself. She rushed past Jordan and tried to keep her footsteps light so that she wouldn’t wake him. He was sleeping so peacefully and was beautiful with his dark brown hair. Like hers. His face was like hers as well. So much of her was in him, and just looking at him broke her heart and filled it all at the same time.

  She reached out and brushed her hand over his hair, then his cheek. He stirred, and for a moment she thought he might wake so she could get a better look at him, but his thumb went into his mouth, and he went back to sleep.

  “He looks like a Gus,” she whispered.

  Jordan made a sound of agreement, and that drew her attention to him, so she could see how he was handling this. Even in the dimly lit room, she saw the emotion. Not the emotion of a mere caregiver.