Читать книгу Security Measures - Joanna Wayne - Страница 8

Janice glanced at the clock on the dashboard as she pulled into the driveway of her home in the Chicago suburbs. Seven-thirty. Not bad timing, considering that they’d sat in stalled traffic for over an hour after a wreck on the interstate.

Kelly roused herself from the rap-induced coma she’d been in for the past hour, pulled the headphones from her ears and had the car door open by the time Janice came to a complete stop.

“Grab some luggage,” Janice reminded her.

“Mom.”

Kelly managed to stretch the word into three syllables, registering her irritation. “Why do we have to unload the car this minute?”

“Surely you can walk into the house with a couple of suitcases.”

“I will, but I was going to see Gayle first. I haven’t seen anyone in a week.”

“You’ve seen me, and I was someone last time I checked.”

“You know what I mean. Besides she’s leaving for New Orleans first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long. Gayle’s mother picked up our mail for us this week, so bring that home with you.”

Janice watched her daughter barely skim the grass in her haste to visit her best friend and next-door neighbor. The two girls would have had to have been joined at the hip to be any more inseparable. Janice was thankful Gayle lived so close and that her mother was almost as protective of Kelly as Janice was.

In fact, Gayle’s mother was as close to a real friend as Janice dared to have. She and Joy Ann didn’t actually do anything together, but they chatted at the mailbox and occasionally shared a cup of coffee discussing the trials of living with a teenage daughter.

Reaching back into the car, Janice grabbed her keys from the ignition. She unlocked the back door to the house, then retrieved a box of grocery items from the SUV. The odors of coffee and overripe bananas mingled in her nostrils as she carried the box inside and set it on the counter.

Only there shouldn’t be a smell of coffee. They’d used the last of the grounds that morning and she’d thrown the empty bag away. She glanced at the coffeemaker. The light was on. Apprehension swelled on cue.

“Hello, Candy.”

Damn. She lunged for one of the kitchen knives in the wooden block. Vincent caught her from behind before she could. His fingers tightened around her wrists. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

She tried to jerk away from him, but he held on tight, pulling her to him so that her back was pressed into his chest and his breath was hot on the back of her neck.

He released his grip slowly, and she turned, gulping in a quick breath of air as she got her first look at what almost fourteen years in prison did to a man.

He’d been so young before, Hollywood handsome and boyishly seductive, with his mischievous smile and dark, dancing eyes. He was still handsome, but the lines in his face were hard and his chin looked as if it had been carved in granite. The muscles in his arms were more pronounced and his dark hair was cut so short, it barely covered his scalp. A scar ran from just below his left ear to under his jaw.

Only his eyes were still the same. Piercing. Mesmerizing. She shuddered and looked away.

“How did you get here?”

“I drove. The car’s parked in your backyard.”

Out of sight because he knew she’d have noticed a strange car parked in the driveway. “How did you know where to find me?” Her mind was already jumping ahead, thinking of how she could protect Kelly.

“Anybody can be found if someone really wants to find them.”

“They had my funeral.”

“I know. That was a smart move. I didn’t buy it, but then prisoners tend to be a cynical bunch. And here you are, sweet little Candy Owens, alive and kicking in Illinois.”

“The name is Janice Stevens now. How did you get in without setting off the alarm?”

“Alarms only keep out honest people and stupid burglars.”

“And you’re neither.”

“Right. So where’s my daughter?”

She’d never told Vincent she was pregnant, but the investigation and the pretrial hoopla had been in full swing while she was carrying Kelly. News reporters had dogged her every step, asking her if the baby she was expecting was a Magilinti. She’d denied it vehemently.

“If it had been your daughter I was pregnant with, I wouldn’t have kept her.”

His muscles flexed; for a second, she thought he was going to slug her, but he exhaled slowly. “I’ve been here for two days. I’ve seen her room. I’ve seen snapshots of her. Nicole, or whatever you call her now, is a Magilinti.”

“I call her by her name. Her name is Kelly Stevens.” She’s pretty. Smart, too, and a good swimmer. I saw her academic achievement awards on the wall of the den and the swimming trophies in her room. You’ve done well with her.”

The compliment got to her. So did his voice. It had deepened some over the years, but she’d have recognized it anywhere. Old memories rushed into her mind and she went weak.

She couldn’t let him do this to her. No matter what they had been before, he was the enemy now. She’d testified for the prosecuting attorney at his trial. She’d seen the gun in his hand the night of the bloody massacre that had left his father dead.

The fear hit again, like a white-hot pain searing into her heart. “If you’re here to kill me, then do it, but don’t hurt Kelly. She never did anything to you. She doesn’t even know you exist.”

“Why would I kill you? As far as I’m concerned, the woman I knew fifteen years ago is dead. I’m here for my daughter. That’s it.”

“If you want to do something for your daughter, walk away. She thinks her father is dead, Vincent. She thinks he’s a hero.”

“And I once thought her mother was an angel. People get over those early illusions.”

“How will you explain to her that you’re an escaped convict?”

“I won’t. Not yet. You’re Janice Stevens. I’m Vincent Jones, a friend of her father’s.”

“You can’t stay here. This will be one of the first places the Feds look.”

“That’s a chance I have to take.”

“Why? Why take that chance? You’re out of prison. Keep running, just don’t stay here. Don’t put Kelly in danger.”

“Look at me, Janice.”

She turned away.

His grip tightened. “I said look at me. I’m not here to hurt Kelly. I’m here to protect her.”

“The only danger comes from you, Vincent.”

“No. It comes from my cousin, Tyrone Magilinti. He knows where you are, and he has plans to kill the both of you.”

His tone was deadly serious. Icy chills snaked up her spine. “He’s been out of prison for three weeks.

He’s made no move to hurt us.”

“But he will. He’s planned his revenge for years.”

“If that’s true, we have to tell the police. I work with a U.S. Marshal. He’ll know how to handle this.”

“You can’t call the police and you can’t tell the marshal. Get them involved, and he’ll put this off until you think you’re safe again. The police will let down their guard. They always do. He knows that.”

“Okay, you stay here. But let me take Kelly away. Please, let me take her somewhere safe.”

“Listen to me. If I wanted to hurt you or Kelly, I’d do it now.” He slid a gun from a holster under his shirt. “All I’d have to do is fire this. I’m here to protect Kelly. If you run, he’ll find you. If you stay with me, I can protect her. I know Tyrone. I know how he thinks. He’s evil to the core, but I know his weaknesses.”

She looked up and met his burning gaze again. He was deadly serious. She didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to believe Tyrone had already planned her and Kelly’s execution. But there was no way to look into Vincent’s eyes and not believe he was telling the truth. And if he was, did she dare send him away and trust the police to save her from Tyrone?

“Let me save my daughter, Candy. Then I’ll walk out of your life and never bother you again. I promise.”

“And you won’t tell her that you’re her father?”

“No. Your identity is safe with me.”

“Then don’t call me Candy. The name is Janice.”

“Janice it is.”

There wasn’t time to say more. Any other night, Janice would have had to call and ask Joy Ann to send Kelly home, but tonight she was at the door that led to the garage with both hands wrapped around a towel encased casserole dish. A plastic grocery bag was hooked over her wrist, mail spilling out the top.

“I could use some help here.”

Vincent went to her aid. Janice stood frozen to the spot, paralyzed as Kelly came face-to-face with her father for the first time. Kelly stared at him critically; Janice held her breath, waiting for the worst, half expecting that Kelly would feel some kind of weird bond and figure it all out. But she handed him the food and went right back to talking.

“Mrs. Givens made an extra chicken potpie so you wouldn’t have to cook tonight. It’s still hot.”

“That was thoughtful.” Her voice was too shaky. If she didn’t get some control, she’d never be able to pull this off.

Kelly tossed the mail to the kitchen table, then looked from Janice to Vincent. “So, who are you, anyway?”

“He’s a family friend,” Janice said, this time managing to keep her voice more steady.

“We have family friends? News to me.”

“Actually I’m a friend of your father’s.”

“Shut up! For real?”

“For real. I’m Vincent Jones, and you must be Kelly.”

“That’s me. Well, my name is Elizabeth Kelly, but everyone calls me Kelly.”

“It fits.”

“Did you really know my dad?”

“Very well. We grew up together.”

“How come I never heard of you before?”

“Good question.”

“Was my dad as handsome as Mom says he was?”

“Your mother said he was handsome?”

“Yeah. A hunkster.”

“Kelly, why don’t you bring in the rest of the luggage,” Janice said.

“I’ll help you,” Vincent said.

“Fantastic! And you have to stay for dinner. Mrs. Givens makes a to-die-for chicken potpie, not like that frozen junk you buy at the market.”

“Sounds delicious.”

Janice just stood there watching the two of them connect like old friends. She’d spent the past fourteen years praying Kelly would never know the monster whose blood ran through her veins.

Now the monster had escaped from prison and was moving in. Heaven help them all.

KELLY’S CELL PHONE RANG. She answered it, then left Vincent and Candy alone in the kitchen. Only she wasn’t Candy anymore. She was Janice Stevens, a legal secretary and widowed mom living in Chicago, Illinois. But it wasn’t only her name that had changed. She acted different, talked different, even looked different.

His chest tightened as the familiar image of her the night they’d met filled his mind. He’d walked out the back door of his father’s house on St. Charles Avenue, and there she was, dancing in the moonlight.

There was no music, and she’d had no partner. She was just pirouetting in a white halter dress that swirled about her shapely legs and slender hips. Her curly, blond hair had flown about, wild and tousled and… His body hardened, and he struggled to push the memories away.

“I liked your hair blond—and curly,” he said, letting the comment slip out before he thought about it.

“Janice Stevens never had blond hair. Her hair is mousy brown and posterboard straight.”

The kind of woman who’d fade into the back ground. That must be what she was going for. That explained the long skirt that hid her great legs and the loose blouse that camouflaged her full breasts. “Does Janice Stevens have a significant other?” Not that he gave a damn, except that it would com plicate what he had to do.

“No, she’s devoted to the memory of her late husband, a firefighter who died in the line of duty.”

“The hunkster?”

She knotted her hands into fists. “This may sound like some big joke to you, but I’m making it work, Vincent, for me and for Kelly.”

“Making it work. That’s not quite the same as being happy.”

“I’m happy enough. And so is your daughter. And if you have a shred of decency, you won’t do anything to spoil the image she has of her dead father.”

“It would surprise you if I had a shred of decency in me, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you have inside you. I never really knew you.”

“You’re right. You never knew me, and apparently I never knew you.”

“How did you and Tyrone find out the deaths were faked?”

“Bribes. Favors. Blackmail. The Magilinti way.”

“And if all else fails, there’s violence.”

“That, too.”

“And yet you expect me to believe you.”

“Unless you’re willing to risk Kelly’s life on the bet that she’s safer without me around. But if you do, I’ll take Kelly and run with her. I’ll keep her safe, one way or another, with you or without you.”

She shuddered, and he clenched his hands into fists, fighting a totally insane need to comfort her. Being with her was already messing up his mind and his emotions. He’d have to keep his guard up every second. He would not let her back into his heart.

The tension was as thick and as bitter as stale coffee by the time Kelly bounded back into the kitchen.

“So are we eating are what?” Kelly asked. “I’m starved.”

“Me, too,” Vincent said. “I’ll make a salad to go with the potpie.”

Janice started to say there were no ingredients for a salad, but Vincent was already at the refrigerator pulling out fresh leafy salad greens and a large ripe tomato. He’d apparently stocked their refrigerator and made himself at home.

Now he was moving about her kitchen almost as proficiently as she did, pulling out a salad bowl and a knife for slicing the tomato. And Kelly, who never helped without being asked, was setting the table for three.

Vincent Magilinti had moved back into her life as effortlessly as he had the first time. Only this time she wouldn’t thrill to his touch. She wouldn’t burn with desire from his kisses. She wouldn’t make love to him so passionately that she cried.

She wouldn’t let him destroy her life or Kelly’s. He’d done that one too many times already.

KELLY KICKED OFF her shoes and dropped to the chair in front of her computer. She was glad her father’s friend was going to hang out with them for a day or two, but thankful she didn’t have to give him her room. She could do without her bed but not her computer.

Vincent was sleeping on the daybed in the room her mother used for an office. It was between her bedroom and her mother’s. Her mother had wanted Kelly to take that room as her bedroom, but she’d talked her into this one. She liked being at the back of the house and away from her mother, who was always complaining that she played her music too loud.

She had mail, but it could wait. She hit a couple of keys and when the right screen came up, she logged into a chat room. She’d caught the tail end of a chat about a new video earlier tonight. She wanted to see if anyone knew the name of the guy in the black leather pants. He was cute.

A second later, an instant message popped up from Byron. She moved her cursor to the reply field and started typing.

We got back tonight. And we have company, a friend of my father’s. He’s pretty cool. Handsome, too, but I don’t think my mom likes him. She hardly talks to him at all.

Mothers can be weird.

Tell me about it. Is yours working tonight?

No, but she’s not home. I got some news, too.

What kind of news?

Big news. I’m getting a truck. Meet me and I’ll tell you about it.

Mom’s not going to let me out this late.

Tell her you’re going to Gayle’s like you always do.

She’ll say it’s after ten.

Then sneak out. You’ve done it before.

Yeah, but I’m always scared I’ll get caught.

I’ll be at the park in fifteen minutes. I really need to see you. C’mon, Kelly. Don’t let me down.

I’ll try.

She logged off the computer, then threw herself across the bed. She had to give this some serious thought. She liked Byron a lot, but she didn’t want to get into trouble. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t going to get to go to New Orleans even if she was an angel.

A new truck was a big deal.

And it wasn’t as if it were midnight or something. It was only ten after ten. Some of her friends got to stay out until eleven o’clock when they went to the skating rink. After all, they were starting high school this year.

Kelly waited ten minutes, then opened her bedroom window. The rest of the house was wired so that if any door opened after her mother set the alarm, a loud buzzer would go off. Kelly had found out how to disconnect the wires from her window in a chat room over the Internet.

Everything you could possibly want to know was floating around somewhere in cyberspace. All you had to do was find it. And what she couldn’t find, Byron could. He was the smartest high school boy she knew. Actually, he was the only high school boy she knew very well, but still, she knew he was smart. Might even be a genius.

He didn’t have a dad, either. Well, he did, but he never saw him. He didn’t see much of his mother. She worked nights as a waitress out at a truck stop on the edge of town. Byron worked there some, too. But he wasn’t going to do it much longer. As soon as he turned eighteen, he was going to split.

She released the catch on the screen and eased it out, leaning it against the house so that it didn’t fall into the grass. Fortunately, the air-conditioning unit was next to her window and very noisy. Her window was on the opposite side of the house from her mother’s bedroom.

Still, her heart beat really fast when she sneaked out like this. If her mother caught her, she’d be deader than roadkill. Holding her breath, she swung her legs over the edge of the sill and dropped the few feet to the ground below.

The streetlight in front of their house was out, but there was enough moonlight for Kelly to sneak behind the red-tipped hedge at the side of the house and creep out to the street. It was only three short blocks to the park where she was going to meet Byron. She really wanted to talk to him tonight, and not just because she’d been gone for a week or to hear about the truck he was getting.

Kelly wanted to talk about why her mother acted the way she did. Mom should be excited to have a good friend of Kelly’s dad visiting with them. But she wasn’t. Anyone could tell that. Yet she’d invited him to stay with them and they’d never had an over night guest, unless you counted Kelly’s girlfriends.

She picked up her pace once she reached the corner.

Only she had the strange feeling someone was following her. A second later, she knew she was right.