Page 28 of The Billionaire's Son

“Yes.”

“It’ll be late, though, probably around seven or eight. After my shift, I’ll need to go home to pack some clothing. Do whatever it takes so I can drive my car onto the ferry.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to send the limo?”

“I don’t want to be trapped on this island without wheels.”

“You can use one of my vehicles whenever you want.”

She shook her head, and Trey raised both hands to indicate he’d back off. Kelly obviously had a stubborn streak as deep as his father’s.

“We’ll hold dinner for you,” he said.

A smile threatened her mouth, a rare occurrence.

“One thing’s certain,” she muttered. “I sure as hell won’t starve.”

* * *

CURSING BECAUSE THE scene with Jason and then the tug-of-war with his father had taken so much time, Kelly unlocked her third-floor apartment and hurried toward her bedroom. No way could she be late today. She’d only given in to Wentworth because she kept seeing Jason’s puffy, tear-streaked face in her mind’s eye, hearing his sad voice begging her to stay. How could anyone say no?

The poor little guy had enough troubles without her adding to them.

A quick look around told her nothing had been disturbed. She had no pets or plants to suffer during her absence yesterday. She paused after tossing her clothing into the hamper. What did that lack say about her life?

That she was a dedicated cop. That’s what. She had no time for anything else.

Except now, apparently, Jason Wentworth and his father.

She’d already showered at Wentworth’s castle, so she pulled a clean uniform out of her closet. After dressing—and thankfully disposing of the lacy thong—she strapped on her duty belt, which weighed close to twenty pounds, rearranged it on her hips and grabbed her car keys. She relocked her front door, pleased with how quickly she’d gotten ready. Even with all the delays, she’d still arrive at the station early for roll call. She’d come home after her shift to pack.

How much trouble would she be in for missing yesterday? Agent Ballard’s phone call should go a long way to smooth her absence with the brass—still, you never knew. The sketch artist said he’d heard talk of a commendation, so maybe she wasn’t in that much trouble.

And what could she have done differently? She’d been over yesterday’s events a hundred times, and she wouldn’t change a thing about what she’d done.

She moved across the deserted parking lot toward her car when a sudden movement caught her attention. Kelly tensed, unsure why her cop instincts roared into life.

She scanned the area. A figure stood under the trees to her right maybe fifty yards away. A man. Dark hair and clothing, six feet, thirty years old. Watching her through binoculars, his right wrist in a cast. She slowed her steps. Something about him rang a bell. She knew this man. Who was he?

Shit. It was Adam, one of Jason’s kidnappers. Surveilling her. He had binoculars. Did he have his gun? How did he know where she lived?

Kelly drew her weapon and aimed it at Adam in a two-handed grip. “Police. Stay right where you are.”

But of course he ran. Kelly lowered her weapon and hauled butt after him, but he had too much of a lead. He leaped into a waiting silver Corolla and disappeared in a roar.

Someone else was driving. Caleb?

She managed to get a partial tag. Breathing hard, she took out her notepad and jotted down three letters and one number.

She glanced back to her dirty white Ford, dread knotting her gut. Jason’s abductor knew where she lived. Did he know her vehicle? Had he been in her car?

No way was she getting inside until it’d been processed. Maybe they’d find fingerprints on the door handles that would lead them to Adam.

She had to call it in. Damn. She’d miss roll call again after all.

Before she could unclip her phone from her belt, an explosion boomed into the quiet morning, rocketing the hood of her car into the air.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TWO HOURS LATER, standing next to Lieutenant Marshall and Special Agent Ballard, Kelly watched the remains of her car being towed away by the FBI. Trucks from several local television stations had set up for remote transmission on the other side of police barricades.

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