Читать книгу: «Christmas Guardian», страница 3

“What if he follows us?” she mouthed.

“That’s what I’m hoping. You’ve opened Pandora’s box, and now I’m going to see if I can close it.”

Not understanding, Kinley shook her head. “What does that mean?”

He leaned in again. “I don’t want him or anyone else to think I have something to hide.” He glanced around. “And besides, this place isn’t safe.”

Even though he’d whispered that, it rang through her as if he’d shouted it. “But I don’t want to lead him to Maddox.”

“You won’t.” And with that, he motioned for her to pack. “Bring your laptop and your notes, but put them in an overnight bag so they can’t be seen.”

She didn’t question him further. The only reassurance she’d needed was that this wouldn’t put her son in any more danger than he already was. Besides, it might help if Jordan looked at her notes. He might find something she’d missed. And if they found it, they might also be able to figure out who was behind Shelly’s murder.

Kinley grabbed a small suitcase and hurriedly packed everything she might need for a short stay, including the notes, which she took from inside the lining of a coat she had hanging in the closet. When she came out of the bedroom, Jordan was by the door peeking out the side window.

“Is he still there?” she whispered.

Jordan nodded. He reached out and ran his hand through her hair, messing it up. He did the same to his. No doubt so it’d look as if they’d just had a quick round of sex.

They walked out, their arms hooked around each other, and got into the car. Jordan drove away quickly. So did the other car.

Just as Jordan had predicted, it followed them.

“You’re sure this won’t make things more dangerous for my son?” she asked.

“I’m sure.”

So, that probably meant Maddox wasn’t at his house. But then, there’d been no indication that he was. Jordan likely had him tucked away somewhere. But where? And who was caring for him? It broke her heart to think that her little boy might not get enough hugs and kisses.

Because she’d already driven to Jordan’s house, she was familiar with the route. He lived in a subdivision within city limits but still secluded. It had pricy homes on massive lots, some of them several acres. Jordan’s was one of the largest in the neighborhood. A true Texas-size estate for a Texas millionaire.

Shelly had certainly made a strange choice when she involved Jordan in this.

“Is it true what you said about Maddox—that Shelly left him on your porch the night she died?” Kinley asked. Right now, she wanted every little detail she could learn about her son and what he’d gone through.

Jordan didn’t answer right away. He glanced at her first. “Yes.”

It was hard for her to picture that in her mind. Her baby literally left on a doorstep. “God, what did you think when you opened the door and saw a baby?”

“I thought he was my son.” He stared straight ahead and repeated that softly under his breath. “Then, with Shelly’s murder, it took me a few days to get around to the DNA test. I had Shelly’s DNA on file, since she was a former employee, and when I did the comparison, I learned he wasn’t Shelly’s. Nor mine.”

Was it her imagination or did he sound disappointed? Hurt, even?

But she had to be wrong about that.

Jordan was a ruthless businessman, along with being a rich player who enjoyed the company of lots of women. He would have taken care of her son, but she seriously doubted he would ever think of himself as a father.

“Who’s taking care of him?” Kinley asked.

She waited.

And waited.

He opened his mouth, and she thought she might finally learn an answer to one of her many questions, but before he could say anything, his phone rang.

Jordan didn’t waste any time answering it. “Cody,” he said after glancing at the screen. He took the turn toward his neighborhood. The street switched from four lanes to two, and though it was well lit with a line of streetlights, it felt isolated because the lots were so spacious.

She couldn’t hear Cody’s side of the conversation, but she could see Jordan’s reaction. She noticed his grip tighten on the wheel. Saw the muscles flicker in his jaw.

“You’re sure?” Jordan asked. Then he paused. “No. I’ll take it from here.” Another pause. “I need to ask you to keep this between us.”

A moment later, Jordan ended the call.

“What happened?” Kinley wanted to know when he didn’t offer any information.

“Do you know a guy named Anderson Walker?”

Kinley thought a moment. “No. That name doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”

“He’s the one following us.”

She glanced in the mirror. He was still following them. “What does he want?”

Jordan shrugged, but there was nothing casual about his body language. “He’s a P.I. who works for Burke Securities.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Burke Securities as in the Burke Dennison who bought your company?”

“The very one.”

Kinley shook her head. “Why does Burke have someone following us?”

Another muscle went to work in his jaw. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s not being very subtle. And he knows we’re on to him. If I just keep driving, it might send him the wrong message—that we have something to hide.” Jordan took his foot off the accelerator. “Get down now.”

Jordan spun the steering wheel around, causing his Porsche to do a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. It was precise. As if he’d choreographed it, he bumped into the rear side of the black car and sent it into a spin.

Before Kinley could stop him, Jordan drew his gun and threw open the door.

Chapter Four

The black car screeched to a stop.

Jordan hadn’t given the driver much of a choice, since he’d angled his Porsche so that the guy couldn’t get around him. That was the plan, anyway.

It was time to confront this bozo.

Jordan didn’t get out, but he aimed his gun. And he waited. Since this was Burke’s man, Jordan was counting heavily on the fact that the P.I. didn’t have orders to kill. His gut told him this was strictly surveillance. Too bad his gut didn’t tell him why Burke had put a tail on him.

Thankfully, there were no other vehicles on the street. There probably wouldn’t be, either. The street was private, leading only to his neighborhood, and this time of night, there weren’t many residents out and about. Jordan wanted that privacy in case this took an ugly turn.

“Should I call the police?” Kinley asked. Her breath was jagged, and she had her purse in a white-knuckle grip.

“No.” Not yet anyway. If he phoned anyone, it’d be Burke to find out what the devil was going on. That call would still happen, but first he wanted answers from the guy who’d tailed them.

“Anderson Walker!” Jordan called out, and he made sure it didn’t sound like a question.

The man still didn’t budge, and Jordan wondered if he’d made a mistake by jumping into this confrontation.

Especially with Kinley in the car.

Maybe he should have waited, but he really just wanted to end this here and now. He didn’t want anyone following him, especially when he didn’t know their intentions and when they were being so obvious about following Kinley and him.

“Walker!” Jordan shouted.

That did it. The door to the black car opened, and the sandy-haired guy stepped out. Anderson was what Jordan called a muscle man. Bulky shoulders. Young. He looked physically capable of pulverizing someone with his bare hands. Jordan had a few P.I.s like that on the Sentron staff because there were times when a strong arm was needed.

So, why had Burke or Anderson thought he needed some intimidation?

Anderson held his gun in his right hand. Not aimed. He had his index finger through the trigger loop, but the gun dangled upside down in a nonthreatening position.

Jordan went for the threat. He pointed his Sig Sauer right at the man.

“You plan to shoot me?” Anderson challenged. He had cocky written all over him.

“That depends on your answer to my question. Why are you following me?”

Anderson started to shift his gun, as if getting ready to aim. Jordan stepped forward and put his Sig Sauer at the guy’s head. “Don’t,” Jordan warned.

Anderson froze. And Jordan said a silent prayer of thanks. He didn’t want to start a gunfight, and he didn’t want to put Kinley in danger. She apparently had enough danger after her without his adding more.

“Toss your gun into your car,” Jordan instructed.

Anderson looked at his gun. At Jordan’s. Then at Jordan himself. Jordan put on his best scowl, which he didn’t have to fake. There was plenty to scowl about. Anderson finally relented and put the gun inside his car. That didn’t mean they were safe because Jordan figured the guy was carrying at least one other backup pistol. Heck, he might even have actual backup in the form of another P.I. or security agent.

“Why are you following me?” Jordan repeated.

“It’s not personal.”

Jordan arched his left eyebrow and gave him a flat look. “And that’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer I can give you. My employer didn’t say why he wanted you followed, only that I was to report where you went tonight and who went with you.”

That was a lot of info crammed into that brief two-sentence report. “Why didn’t Burke just ask me where I was going? I saw him at the party less than an hour ago.”

The guy blinked. “Because Burke didn’t hire me.”

Jordan studied the guy’s face, looking for any sign that he was lying, but he seemed darn smug about telling the truth. “Then who did?”

“Dunno. I was contracted freelance through a broker.”

A broker. In other words, a middle man who acted as a go-between for P.I.s and clients who didn’t want to be identified. That didn’t mean the employer couldn’t be traced. It just meant Jordan would have to dig through some layers to get to it. Judging from what Anderson had said, Kinley was the reason for this since his employer had wanted to know who went anywhere with Jordan.

“What did your broker-using employer tell you to do?” Jordan questioned.

“Wait outside Sentron.” The man paused. “And when you left, I was to follow you and report back.”

They were simple instructions, but they could have deadly implications.

Jordan stared at him. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a really lousy P.I. or if you wanted me to know I was being followed.”

Anderson lifted his shoulder.

“Well?” Jordan pressed. “Which is it?”

It still took him several moments to answer. “I was told to be obvious.”

So, this was for intimidation. “Why?”

“Wasn’t told that,” Anderson insisted.

Jordan was about to push for more details, but he spotted the headlights of another vehicle. He eased his gun to his side so as not to alarm any of his neighbors who might be coming home late.

But the car stopped.

It stayed idling just up the street. And the driver kept the high beams on so that the blinding light glared through the darkness.

Anderson glanced back at the car. “I’m leaving now. My advice—you do the same.”

“Who’s your friend in the car?” Jordan demanded.

“Don’t have a clue.” His cockiness and confidence vanished, and he turned.

Jordan considered stopping him, but it was too risky. If the guy with the high beams was an enemy, then Jordan would be outnumbered.

Maybe outgunned.

Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him, but he had Kinley in the car. And even though the car and glass were bulletproof, this whole situation was suddenly making him very uncomfortable. Jordan got that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and that feeling had saved him too many times to start ignoring it now.

“For the record,” Jordan said to Anderson, “I’m taking my date to my house, and I’d prefer not to have any interruptions. Understand?”

Anderson held up his hands in mock surrender and looked over his shoulder again. “I’m not the one you should be worried about.” And with that, he got into his vehicle, did a doughnut in the road and sped in the direction of the other waiting car. Anderson whipped past it and disappeared into the darkness.

The car didn’t budge. It just sat there. Like a predator waiting to attack. Jordan kept his eye on it and walked backward to his Porsche.

“What just happened?” Kinley asked the moment he got inside. She swallowed hard.

“I’m not sure.”

He worked fast so that they wouldn’t have to sit there any longer than necessary. He opened his glove compartment and extracted a small pair of high-powered binoculars. Through his partially opened door, Jordan looked back at the car.

The high beams were a serious problem, but the binoculars were far from ordinary. His research team had designed them for all-weather, all-terrain surveillance. He made some adjustments and zoomed in on the Texas plates. The moment he had the number, he fed that into his PDA—which wasn’t ordinary, either. He had been able to control most of Sentron, his estate and his training facility with that modified PDA.

Since it might take awhile for the data to be retrieved from the Department of Public Safety files, he put the Porsche in gear and started driving.

“What about that other car?” Kinley asked. She turned in the seat and kept watch.

“I’ll know details soon.” Maybe then he could figure out what was happening and fix the problem. But neither of those things were what troubled him most.

It was Gus.

Jordan prayed he was doing the right thing and wasn’t putting the baby right in harm’s way. He drove toward his estate.

And the other car followed.

KINLEY FOLLOWED JORDAN through the garage and into the three-story house.

When they’d first pulled into the circular driveway of the estate, Kinley had half expected a chauffeur, a butler or some other servant to come running out to assist Jordan. But no one had come, and with the other vehicle creeping along behind them, Jordan had pulled into the garage, waited for the door to shut and only then had he gotten her out of the car and into the estate.

They entered the house itself through a passageway that led to the kitchen. Massive was an understatement. Like the driveway, it too was circular with floor-to-ceiling windows on the back half of the room. Lights came on as they stepped inside and revealed all gleaming stainless-steel appliances and slick black granite countertops. Not exactly homey, but since there were dishes in the sink, it was obvious that Jordan used the place for mundane things like eating.

“Is it safe to talk?” she asked, looking around. But not at the kitchen decor. Kinley looked for any signs that a child lived here.

She saw none.

“It’s safe,” he assured her.

Jordan set her overnight bag on the counter, walked ahead of her and made his way through a butler’s pantry, a formal dining room and finally into the foyer that was larger than her entire apartment. Again, lights flared on as they entered each new area.

No sign of a child here, either.

Just pristine slate floors, flawless dove-gray walls, a stately, double circular staircase and a twelve-foot-high Christmas tree decorated with silver foil ribbons and delicate Waterford crystal ornaments that seemed to catch every ray of the twinkling lights.

Jordan stopped at a landscape oil painting, one of the few pieces of artwork in the minimally decorated area, and he lifted it to reveal a panel of various buttons and even a small screen. He pressed some of those buttons, probably to activate a security system.

Which they might need.

After a few keystrokes, images popped onto the screen. He obviously had cameras all around the place, and he looked at each frame.

The car was no longer there.

“He must have left.” Kinley let out a deep breath.

Jordan didn’t respond to that. Instead, he took out his phone, scrolled through the numbers and pressed the call button. He put it on speaker.

Kinley could hear the ringing, but while Jordan waited for someone to answer, he closed the painting and started down the hall that fed off the left side of the foyer.

“Burke, here,” the man finally answered. “Jordan?” He obviously saw Jordan’s name on his caller ID. “I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”

“Didn’t you?” was all Jordan said.

Burke paused. “Hold on a minute and let me take this call in private.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Jordan zipped past the half dozen or so rooms, went to one at the far end of the hall and put his face close to a small device mounted on the wall. A red vertical thread of light moved over his eyes.

A retinal scan.

This was no ordinary security system.

The door opened, and he walked inside. It was his office, she realized. And as she’d expected, it was well equipped with laptops, various keyboards and plasma screens on the walls that completely encircled the room. With a flick of a switch, all the screens came on to show the different views of the security cameras.

Definitely not ordinary.

“Okay, I’m back,” Burke said. “Am I supposed to know what you meant by your last remark? Why would you think I’d expected to hear from you tonight?” His voice was still friendly enough, as if he thought this might be the start of a joke.

Kinley wished it were a joke.

“Anderson Walker,” Jordan countered. “Why was he following me?”

“Was he?”

“Yeah.” More keystrokes and the largest screen on the center wall changed images. Not the estate any longer. But Sentron headquarters. The party was still going on, and Jordan zoomed in on Burke. The man was walking toward the far corner of the room, away from the others. Probably so this conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

Burke’s face looked almost the same as it had earlier, except for the slight tightness around his mouth. Hardly any emotion considering the terse discussion. The man certainly had a poker face.

“You think I’d send one of my men to follow you?” Burke questioned. “Why would I do that?”

“You tell me.”

“Can’t. Because there’s nothing to tell. But trust me, I’ll check into the matter. You’re sure it was Walker?”

“Positive.”

Burke walked even farther away from the others, until he was at the edge of the hall that led to the command center where Jordan had taken Kinley earlier. The man glanced around, his nerves showing slightly. “You confronted him?”

“I did. He said he was freelancing. But there was another car. Someone else. Any idea who that would be?”

“None.” The assurance was fast and confident. “I’ll get back to you when I find out what’s going on.” He paused. “Why do you distrust me?”

“I distrust everyone,” Jordan answered. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend a quiet night with my date. No more P.I.s tailing me.” And with that warning still hanging in the air, he hung up.

Jordan kept his attention fastened to Burke and zoomed in even closer when the man pulled back his phone and began to make another call.

But then Burke stopped.

Actually, he froze.

Burke’s back was to them so Kinley could no longer see his expression. He waited there just a few seconds before walking down the hall.

Jordan did more keystrokes, and the images on the screen changed. He’d picked up surveillance with Burke now in the command center.

While she knew this was important—they needed to find out why Anderson Walker had followed them—she couldn’t get her mind off her son.

Was Maddox possibly at the estate?

It was certainly large enough for the child to be hidden away there. And he would indeed have to be hidden. After the events of the night, Kinley knew for a fact that her son was in danger.

Partly because of her.

And she silently cursed that she’d ever stepped foot in the Bassfield Research Facility. Of course, if she hadn’t, she would have never met Maddox’s father. It would take time to try to come to terms with that irony. The very man who had put her in such danger had also given her a child she loved more than life itself.

She glanced at Jordan, who had his attention fastened to the screen. Burke made that call, but she didn’t think Jordan was able to see the numbers the man had pressed because Burke kept his back to them.

Kinley stepped into the doorway so she could have another look at the hall. She listened. There were no sounds of a child. No sounds except Jordan’s keystrokes on one of the laptops. Her heart dropped a little. She’d wanted to see her child, but the evidence wasn’t pointing to his being in the house. There were no servants visible and no nanny, either.

She walked up the hall. Still listening. Still hoping that she would get a glimpse of something that belonged to her son. But she didn’t make it far. She heard Jordan mumble something, and she hurried back to see what’d caused that.

The center screen was blank.

“Burke just killed the camera feed,” Jordan snarled.

Kinley was about to ask why, but the answer was obvious. “He doesn’t want us to know what he’s doing.”

“Either that, or he’s just trying to piss me off. Until midnight, I’m still the legal owner of Sentron.” He sat down in the desk chair, took out his PDA and connected it to the computer. “I need to figure out who was in that second car, and it might take a while. If you want something to eat, help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

He was giving her free rein of the place. Her heart dropped even further. He likely wouldn’t do that if her son was anywhere around.

New images popped onto the center screen. Frame by frame. It was still images of the other car that had followed them, and Jordan began to whittle away at the high-beam lights. He was trying to get a look at who was behind the wheel.

Kinley started to turn to do more snooping around the estate, but something caught her eye. Not the zipping-by images of the car. Or even Jordan’s now-frantic keystrokes. But a screen six monitors to the right of the large center one.

She saw a room.

This time, she could indeed describe it as homey. There was a rocking chair. A sofa. But there was also something else in the corner.

She went closer and saw the chest.

Not some antique or high-end piece of furniture. It was white with bunnies painted on it.

A child’s toy chest.

That thought had no sooner flashed in her mind when the image disappeared. In that exact moment, Jordan spared her a glance.

“That was a toy box,” she said, pointing toward the screen. “Does that mean Maddox is here?”

But he didn’t answer. There was a series of sharp beeps, and Jordan cursed.

Kinley frantically looked around at all the monitors, expecting to see some kind of security breach. Maybe the other vehicle had returned. But the screens showed no such threat.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

He eased out of his chair and went to her. So close they were practically touching. Kinley stepped back, or rather she tried to, but he caught on to her arm, leaned in and put his mouth against her cheek.

“We have to do more damage control,” Jordan told her.

Oh, God. Not again. “Someone’s listening?” she whispered.

“No. Worse. Someone’s watching.”