IN BED WITH BOONE

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Jayne tiptoed barefoot down the long hallway. The house was quiet, the nighttime kind of quiet that made you whisper even though there was no one around to hear even if you shouted. She should be in bed asleep. Boone should be beside her. Where had he gone?

  She reached the living room before she heard the muted voices. A word, a laugh, a snippet of conversation. Without a second thought, Jayne headed into the south wing and toward those voices. It wasn't long before she was close enough to identify one of those voices as Boone's. Relief rushed through her. He sounded fine. Not at all as if he was in trouble. A moment later she recognized Corbin Marsh's voice. Jayne wrinkled her nose. They sounded awfully … friendly.

  With her back to the wall, Jayne crept closer. She could hear them well now. The door was only partially closed.

  "How far do you plan to take this?" Corbin asked, amused and amicable. Funny, until now she'd gotten the feeling that Marsh didn't like Boone at all.

  "As far as I can," Boone answered.

  "Marriage?"

  "Eventually. I figure if I rush things, Jayne will get spooked, so I plan to take it slow." He laughed. "I might even convince her that getting married is her idea."

  Jayne's heart sank, and she very slowly lowered herself so she was almost sitting on the floor, her back to the wall, her heart hammering.

  "The senator will balk," Corbin warned.

  "I don't think so," Boone said confidently. "Jayne's a spoiled little rich girl. She's accustomed to getting anything and everything she wants, and right now she wants me."

  One of them sighed, loud and long. Marsh, she imagined. "And then what? Besides the obvious blackmail potential of having a drug-dealing son-in-law, what can the senator do for you?"

  "The same thing he can do for you," Boone answered, "Connections. Respectability. Friends in high places."

  They both laughed.

  "It was reckless of me to invite Jayne here so soon after her ordeal, but from what Darryl told me, I figured you'd be close behind her," Corbin said.

  "This is all for my benefit?" Boone asked.

  "Not entirely," Corbin confessed. "Separately, you and Jayne are interesting. Together, the possibilities are mind-boggling."

  Jayne didn't move. She didn't even breathe. Her mouth went dry. Her heart thundered. Her knees went weak.

  "It's a good thing you recognized her right away," Corbin said in that new friendly tone of voice. "If Darryl had killed her, we'd still be fighting off the feds."

  "Don't I know it." A chair creaked. "Look, I need to get back to bed. Jayne's waiting. Do I have your word that there are no other bugs in that room?"

  "In the closet," Corbin said. "Wedged between the top shelf and the wall. It doesn't get great reception, but it makes a decent backup."

  Jayne stood and walked, quickly and silently, down the hallway and away from the room where Boone and Corbin were behaving like such good friends. She didn't know whether to be hurt or angry or frightened. Had they been working together all along? She was such an idiot.

  As she hurried to her room, she kept listening for Boone, waiting for him to come up behind her, wondering what he would do if he caught her.

  Once in her room, she locked the door and leaned against it. Now what? She wasn't like Boone. She couldn't look at him and pretend she hadn't heard. But if he found out she knew what he was up to…

  Jayne hung up her robe in the closet, then stretched to see if she could spot the listening device Corbin had told Boone was planted there. She couldn't. It didn't matter. She wasn't going to say anything. She wasn't going to make a sound for anyone to hear.

  She crawled into the bed and pulled the covers to her chin, wishing she could just pull them over her head and hide. Unfortunately she didn't have time to hide. What about Drew? Had the boy really been kidnapped, or was that just another lie?

  She didn't know what to believe. Too much had happened in the past few days. Did she really know Boone at all? She'd thought so, but now she wasn't so sure. He was definitely lying to someone, and he'd said it himself: lying was what he did best.

  Maybe she should just play along until she got out of here. Then she could tell him that he was right; she didn't love him. She'd been caught up in the moment, nothing more. He'd have no choice but to give up his plan to use her. Convince her it was her idea to get married! The ego!

  But she wasn't very good at pretending. She said what she thought, wore her heart on her sleeve. So far she'd been able to fool Corbin Marsh, but it hadn't been easy. She was not a good liar, not at all. Not like Boone.

  The doorknob turned and the gentle rattling noise was followed by a soft knock. "Jayne?" Boone whispered. "It's me."

  She said nothing. Maybe he'd think she'd fallen asleep and retreat to the bedroom across the hall. She certainly couldn't face him, not now. Tonight she'd actually told Boone that she loved him, and then … then she'd found out he wasn't like the rest. He was much worse.

  The doorknob rattled some more, the lock gave way with a soft click, and Boone walked in. By the time the door swung open, Jayne had her back to him and her eyes closed.

  * * *

  She was asleep. Just as well. Morning was going to come early. Boone took the same tool he'd used to pop the lock and headed for the closet. He shifted the top shelf until he saw the bug, worked it loose and returned to the door. Using his best pitching arm, he threw the tiny microphone down the long hallway and then gently closed the door and locked it.

  Remembering how easily he'd slipped past the lock, he grabbed a chair from the desk and propped it under the doorknob. He didn't trust anyone in this house but Jayne and Drew. And Drew was iffy. The kid liked his uncle Corbin too much.

  Boone stripped to his boxers and lay on the bed, on top of the covers. He really should get a couple of hours of sleep himself, but he didn't think he would. Marsh and Gurza, one and the same. He never would have believed it. Del and Shock were going to have a field day with this one.

  It took him a couple of minutes, but he finally realized that Jayne was not asleep. She was wound so tightly he could practically feel the tension radiating off her. Her breathing was erratic and uneven.

  He rolled over, getting close so he could whisper in her ear. Marsh had said there were only the two bugs in this room, but he didn't trust the man as far as he could throw his hippie ass.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," she said tightly.

  He put his hand on her hip. "Worried about tomorrow morning?"

  "Yes."

  He crawled under the covers with her. Hell, why not? This would be the last night he'd get to lie beside her. When he tried to draw her body against his—in a purely asexual manner of course—she froze.

  "Relax," he whispered.

  "I can't."

  He wondered if he should tell her about Marsh, then decided against it. If she was this anxious already, she didn't need anything else on her mind.

  It hit him, in an unpleasant way, that what was bothering Jayne probably had nothing to do with their plans for the early-morning hours. She'd told him she loved him, and he hadn't responded as she'd thought he would. No wonder she'd locked the door on him.

  She was mad at him. Just as well. It would make the final break easier, he imagined.

  "Maybe you should just sleep in your own room," she whispered.

  "No way." Leave her unprotected? Try to rest when he couldn't see and feel her? It would never work.

  She turned slowly and in a surprise move pulled the covers over her head and his. The bathroom light had been left on, but very little penetrated the coverlet and sheet. He couldn't see her face. "You were right all along," she said tightly. "This will never work. I don't know what I was thinking."

  He touched her cheek. Was it damp? Or was that his imagination? "It's been a wild week," he said softly. "We both went a little crazy. Don't worry about it."

  "Once we get out of here, it's probably best that we don't see each other again."

 
; "Yeah," he agreed. "That would be the way to go."

  She sighed. "My father will be happy to pay you for your services."

  He couldn't help but smile. "Oh, really," he said suggestively.

  "Not those services, you … you Neanderthal."

  He was going to miss her, dammit. And he didn't miss anyone. Not ever. Since this was their last night, he pulled her close. She didn't want to be held, her body language told him, but he didn't let go. Not yet. "I don't want your daddy's money. I don't want you to think this is … anything it's not." He didn't dare use the L-word. "But I'm glad I got to know you. You really are amazing."

  "So are you," she muttered, and it didn't sound at all like a compliment.

  When Jayne rolled over, presenting her back to him again, he let her go. Women. He'd never understand them. Maybe that was just as well.

  * * *

  Jayne didn't sleep much, but she did manage to doze. She was in no physical danger of course, not as long as Boone thought he still might cajole and seduce her into asking him to marry her. Last night she probably should have pretended to be infatuated with him, still. But she knew her limitations. Pretending not to know that Drew had been kidnapped was one thing. Looking Boone in the eye and pretending nothing had changed would be impossible.

  A nudge from Mr. Wonderful woke her. It was still dark outside, but morning was coming.

  "Let's go," he said.

  The plan was simple. She'd go to Drew's room and fetch him, while Boone did something with the truck. How that was supposed to alert the others it was time to move in, she didn't know. For all she knew, no one was coming to help. She didn't know what to believe anymore.

  She did know that as long as Boone had plans for her, she was safe, and if Drew had indeed been kidnapped, then perhaps he would be safe with her.

  Unlike Boone, Jayne didn't have the clothes for skulking around in the predawn hours. She did have a pair of black slacks in her suitcase, and flat black shoes, but the yellow blouse she'd packed to wear with those trousers had been roundly dismissed by Boone. He tossed her one of his black T-shirts as she got dressed, and without comment she pulled the oversize shirt on. She also put on her pearls, which made Boone laugh.

  "I'm not leaving them behind," she said, in answer to his derisive snort. "And I don't think carrying a purse over my shoulder is going to help matters any." He'd told her they'd leave with nothing but the clothes on their backs. And Drew of course. And Lacey, if she wanted to come with them.

  He took her hand as they stepped into the hallway. She shook him off. His only response was a quick puzzled glance.

  When they reached the center of the house, they parted company. Jayne headed for the south wing, where she'd collect Drew and Lacey, and Boone went through the kitchen to exit by that door and make his way to the garage.

  The playroom was dark, but Jayne's eyes had adjusted, and she made her way through without a hitch. When she stepped into Lacey's room, she found the young girl sound asleep. Was it possible that Lacey really was happy here? That if she was awakened, she'd set off an alarm? Jayne knelt beside the bed and shook Lacey's shoulder. The girl immediately awoke.

  "I'm taking Drew and getting out of here," Jayne whispered. "Would you like to come with us?"

  Lacey hesitated only a moment before she nodded her head and sat up.

  While Lacey dressed, Jayne crept into Drew's room. The child slept peacefully. Was this a mistake? Had he been kidnapped and used to bring an end to his mother's murder investigation? Or was he truly Marsh's nephew? Boone might very well be making her a kidnapper. He might be planning to use the child against Marsh.

  It didn't matter. Boone and Marsh were both criminals. She wanted this child out of here and safe, whether it was with loving grandparents or … with her. He wasn't safe in this house. She knew that much, and she didn't need to know anything else.

  "Drew," she called softly as she shook his shoulder. "Come on, honey."

  His eyes blinked open. "It's still dark," he said sleepily.

  "We're going to play a game," Jayne whispered.

  "Turn on the lights," Drew said as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

  "I can't. This is a game we play in the dark." She offered her arms and Drew, still sleepy, came to her. "Be very quiet."

  She carried a sleepy Drew, who rested his head on her shoulder, into Lacey's room. The girl was already dressed in jeans and a navy-blue sweatshirt.

  The three of them crept into the playroom, staying against the wall and out of range of the security camera. Boone was to meet them here as soon as he did his thing with the truck. Maybe there were more fireworks hidden in the jalopy, or some kind of transmitter was just waiting to be activated. Maybe there was nothing at all in the truck, and this was simply another lie.

  "I'm too sleepy to play, Miss Jayne," Drew said softly.

  "Shh. Why don't you go back to sleep, then?" she urged. She repositioned Drew in her arms. He was heavy, but not too heavy. He was also warm and trusting, as naive as she had once been. He quickly fell asleep and went limp against her.

  "This isn't a good idea," Lacey said. The girl fidgeted nervously. "If Mr. Marsh catches us, he'll … he'll…"

  "What?" Jayne whispered.

  "He'll kill us all."

  The lights came on, momentarily blinding Jayne. "Well, now, that's a little overly dramatic, don't you think?" Corbin asked.

  He held a gun in his hand, and it was pointed at Lacey. Jayne stepped in front of the girl. "I couldn't sleep," she said. "I thought I'd see if Lacey and Drew wanted to take a walk with me. The red rocks just to the west of the house are so beautiful, and I haven't seen them at this time of day. I imagine—"

  "Save it, Miss Barrington," Marsh said tightly. "I would dearly love to believe you. My life would be much less complicated if I could." His pale stare cut right through her. His lips went thin and hard. "But I don't. What a mess. I guess all three of you are going to have to go."

  A sleeping Drew snuggled his face against Jayne's shoulder, blocking out the light. Oh, she wanted him to sleep through this. The sight of his beloved uncle with a gun in his hand would surely be traumatizing.

  "I was going to bring him back," Lacey whimpered. "I was just playing along so I could—"

  "Shut up," Marsh snapped. "I took you in, cleaned you up, I even loved you, for a while." His mouth thinned. "When I got tired of you, I gave you a job to keep you off the streets. And this is how you thank me. You and Drew will both pay for that mistake."

  "You wouldn't dare hurt this child," Jayne said. "You love him, at least a little. And he adores you."

  Marsh's facial features went stony, and he finally looked his age. "You're right," he said. "I could never hurt Drew." He glanced into the hallway behind him. "Fortunately my friend Darryl has no such reservations."

  Jayne gasped. She wasn't afraid of Boone, no matter what plans he had for her, and she wasn't afraid of Corbin Marsh. But Darryl terrified her; he always had.

  The fat man stepped into view, taking a solid stance behind Marsh, a crooked smile blooming on his ugly face.

  "I've been looking forward to seeing you again, sugar," Darryl said.

  Jayne tightened her hold on Drew.

  "Where's your boyfriend?" Marsh asked, ignoring Darryl's threat.

  "You tell me!" Jayne snapped. "After all, he's … he's just like you! He's a drug dealer and a liar and he doesn't care about anyone but himself."

  "You found him out, I see." Marsh shook his head. "Too bad."

  "I don't care what you three do, I really don't." Jayne lifted her chin haughtily. "But Drew deserves better than to be raised in a house that's rife with criminals and … and thugs like Darryl."

  "Rife?" Darryl repeated softly.

  Marsh silenced his goon with a raised hand. "So you found out Boone was not who he claimed to be, and you decided to run. But you also decided to take my nephew with you. To … save him."

  "Yes," Jayne whispered.

&nbs
p; "Very noble of you."

  It hit Jayne, with a dreaded finality that sat in her stomach like a boulder, that Boone wasn't coming. There was no signal. There was no planned rescue. She was on her own.

  "He's a sweet innocent little boy," she said. "He doesn't belong here. Can't we make a deal? You let us go, and I swear not to tell anyone that things here are not what they seem."

  Marsh shook his head. "I wish it was that sim—"

  An explosion shook the house. Drew woke, Jayne cowered and Lacey squealed.

  Corbin waved his gun at Darryl. "Go see what that was."

  Darryl disappeared down the hallway, running, his heavy footfall fading rapidly, and Corbin Marsh stepped into the playroom as Drew rubbed a fist against sleepy eyes. "In the back of my mind I always knew I shouldn't mess with politics."

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  Boone ran toward the house with the explosion reverberating behind him. Dean had concealed the explosive device in the passenger-seat cushions as a last resort. If Boone couldn't get to his cell phone or set off the fireworks, the truck could be rigged to blow.

  It had taken longer than he had planned to get the timer on the device set. There had been a couple of annoying safety precautions to get past. Dean was nothing if not safety conscious.

  Before he reached the kitchen door, Darryl burst from the house, gun drawn. Boone came to an abrupt stop. "Something in the garage blew up," he said. "Sabotage, I think."

  Darryl looked toward the flames and then back at Boone. "How come you're running away from the explosion?" The grip on his pistol changed slightly. "Shouldn't you be checking it out?"

  "I started to do just that, and then I got to worrying that there might be a second explosion coming."

  "Oh." Darryl, not certain if he wanted to be convinced or not, stared at the flames erupting from the truck Boone had pulled out of the garage. His mind worked slowly, and within seconds the grip on his pistol changed. No, he wasn't buying it, but he couldn't be certain that Boone was lying, either.

  Boone took the opportunity to kick the weapon out of Darryl's hand. The pistol went flying, Darryl howled, and Boone dropped down and rolled toward the pistol.