Читать книгу The Billionaire's Son - Sharon Hartley - Страница 12
ОглавлениеMURMURING SOOTHING SOUNDS, Kelly placed the still-sobbing Jason back in his airplane bed. She knelt, not letting go of his warm sticky fingers. Dr. Carico moved beside them and quickly administered an injection into his upper arm. The child didn’t react to the prick of the needle.
“He’ll be out soon,” the doctor said softly.
Kelly nodded, her attention focused on the child, stroking damp hair away from his flushed face. Unbearably sad blue eyes stared into hers. Poor little dude.
“Don’t go,” he whispered.
“I’m right here,” Kelly said.
He heaved a sigh, closed his eyes and within a minute or two his breathing grew steady. He didn’t rouse when she released his hand.
Feeling older than her sergeant, she came to her feet and faced Carico who stared at her now sleeping patient with a worried frown.
“Maybe I should have sedated him earlier, but he seemed fine.”
“He’s fine until I leave his sight,” Kelly said. “Now what?”
“He’ll sleep the rest of the night.”
“Will his head be straight when he wakes up in the morning?”
Carico met Kelly’s gaze. “I don’t know.”
“At least you admit it.” Kelly looked away from the question in Carico’s probing gaze. What did these people expect her to do? Sure, she felt bad for the little dude—the kid was in a very bad place—but she wasn’t anybody’s mother. And she had a career to get back to.
“Let’s go downstairs and talk to Trey,” Carico suggested.
Kelly followed the doctor down the elegant stairs, across the marbled living room into the dining room where Wentworth and his lawyer pal sat at the massive glass banquet table deep in conversation. Lunch had been cleared, but they each held a graceful crystal glass full of red wine. An array of cheese and crackers worthy of being on a magazine cover sat between them, along with the open wine bottle.
Well, it’s five o’clock somewhere.
With a start, she realized it was after 6:00 p.m. Where had the time gone? The sun would soon set on the most surreal day of her life. Not the most frightening, but definitely the strangest.
Wentworth glared at her with an expression so full of resentment she squared her shoulders. Did the jerk blame her for this fiasco? Geez. Like it was her fault Jason preferred a stranger’s comfort to his father’s.
“How is Jason?” Wentworth asked.
“Asleep,” Carico said. “And he’ll stay that way the rest of the night.”
“Good.” Wentworth nodded. “Would you like some wine?”
“No,” Carico replied as she seated herself. “Thanks, but I have a meeting later that I can’t miss.” Glancing at her watch, she added, “In fact, I’ll have to go soon. The ferry is crowded this time of day.”
“Kelly?” Wentworth asked.
“Wine sounds great,” Kelly said, taking a seat across from Wentworth at the table.
A plump blonde woman who’d been lurking at the door rushed in and placed a clean wineglass on the table.
“Thank you, Greta,” Wentworth said. He dribbled wine into the new glass, then pushed it across the table toward Kelly.
“Thanks.” She took a swallow, surprised to find the taste wasn’t sweet like the crap she usually drank. She swirled the liquid in the glass like she’d seen on television and took another sip. Not bad actually. This must be what the wino experts called dry, and no doubt more expensive than anything she’d ever swilled in her life.
She lowered the glass and found Wentworth staring at her, along with his lawyer and his son’s shrink.
The lawyer cleared his throat. “We seem to have a situation here.”
“No shit,” Kelly blurted, and immediately regretted her choice of words. At least the kid was upstairs snoozing.
During an awkward silence, Carico helped herself to several slices of cheese and crackers and placed the food on an elegant white plate. When she resumed her seat, Kelly met her gaze. The shrink narrowed her eyes and nodded, as if she’d arrived at some sort of conclusion.
“What do you think, Donna?” Wentworth asked.
“The kidnapping made Jason regress,” Carico said. “That was to be expected.”
Wentworth nodded. “Is there a possibility he’ll continue to think Officer Jenkins is his mother when he wakes up?”
“I can’t answer that question. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Is there any chance he’s making this up, that he knows this woman isn’t his mother?” Wentworth asked.
Kelly took a sip of her wine to cover a snort. Wentworth was clueless. He’d seen Jason’s reactions. How could anyone possibly think the little dude was playacting?
“Not from what I’ve observed,” the doctor said, shaking her head.
“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” the lawyer asked.
“I’ve never treated a patient with this kind of transference, but I’ve read about it. It’s rare.”
“Transference?” Kelly asked.
“In therapy, transference usually happens when a patient projects their feelings or thoughts about one person onto their analyst. The analyst comes to represent some person from the patient’s past, and it can provide a useful window of information about what a patient desires or wishes to avoid.”
“Jason desires his mother to be back,” Wentworth said.
Carico nodded. “The abduction traumatized him, made him long desperately for his mom to protect him. When he spotted Officer Jenkins, who physically resembles his absent mother, he latched on to the idea she’d returned to save him. A mental defense mechanism created by a terrified child.”
“Jason knows his mother is dead,” Wentworth said.
“But can a four-year-old truly understand the finality of death?” Carico asked gently.
Kelly stared into her wineglass. She’d seen her mother everywhere for years after her murder. And she’d been thirteen, a teenager who definitely understood the meaning of death.
“Plus, in our sessions, Jason mentioned his mom used to take him with her jogging.”
“The healthiest thing she ever did,” Wentworth said, in a tone full of sarcasm.
Kelly glanced at Wentworth. Definitely not too fond of his late wife.
“Jason’s symptoms also vaguely remind me of conversion hysteria,” Carico continued, frowning. “But usually in such cases there is a physical ailment, such as blindness or paralysis, that develops. I intend to do a lot of research.”
Wentworth leaned forward. “Whatever it takes.”
Carico flashed Wentworth such a brilliant smile that Kelly almost choked. What was up with that? Did the good doctor have the hots for her patient’s father?
“But the gorilla in the room is what do we do about Officer Jenkins,” Carico said.
Kelly met the shrink’s direct gaze and didn’t like what she saw. Uh-oh. No question she was going to hate what came next.
“After careful consideration,” Carico said, “it is my opinion that Kelly should be available when Jason wakes up. Just in case.”
* * *
TREY CLOSED HIS eyes to block out the outraged expression on Kelly’s face. She obviously didn’t like the idea of hanging around. Hell, he didn’t want her here, either. He’d hoped to be rid of her, but what choice did he have when Donna recommended she remain?
Jason needed her.
“Just in case what?” Brian asked. “I think we need to be clear here.”
“In case Jason becomes agitated that his mother is gone again,” Donna said. “You’ve seen how he reacts when Kelly attempts to leave. His personality is extremely fragile because of everything he’s been through. We don’t want to push him into a full-blown episode of hysteria. From what I saw earlier, he was very close, and that could be quite damaging, perhaps take years to recover from.”
“I have to agree,” Brian said. “I’ve never seen any child react the way he did when we tried to separate him from Officer Jenkins.”
“What concerns me most is how he stiffened his limbs,” Donna said. “That’s a symptom of catatonia. We want to avoid pushing him into such a dangerous state.”
Remembering the sight of Jason’s rigid body when he tried to separate him from Officer Jenkins, Trey stared into his wine. What was happening to his son? Even with all his resources, he was helpless to prevent Jason’s downward spiral.
“Come on, guys. You can’t expect me to stay here,” Kelly said, her gaze shifting around the table.
“I know it would be a tremendous imposition, but couldn’t you remain just one night?” Donna said. “I’ve done it several times, and this villa is quite comfortable.”
“You can stay in the guest room you used earlier,” Trey said. “I’ll place my staff at your disposal.”
“No way,” Kelly said. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“I’ll have Hans drive you to your station in the morning.”
“Roll call is at ten a.m. What if Jason isn’t awake by then?”
Donna smiled. “You obviously aren’t familiar with little boys. I’m certain he will be up long before that.”
Kelly shook her head. “But what if we’re just putting off the inevitable? What if he gets hysterical when I leave in the morning?”
“We’ll deal with that possibility then,” Donna said.
“Will you be here to do that?” Kelly demanded.
“Yes. Trey has asked me to return to evaluate his condition.”
Trey nodded when Donna shot him a smile. Thank God for Donna. Anything to convince the cop to stay. He understood she had a life, but how could she refuse to help a frightened child? Was she heartless?
“If Jason doesn’t settle down, my recommendation will be to treat him in-patient,” Dr. Carico said. “I’ve consulted several colleagues, and they all recommend institutionalization. Trey wants to avoid that at all costs.”
Kelly released a sigh. “Yeah, I get that.”
“When she was alive, Jason’s mother left him with nannies all the time,” Trey said, relieved Kelly appeared to be softening. He couldn’t force her to stay, and he’d already insulted her once by offering payment. “I think he’ll understand your need to go to work.”
“Did his mom work?” Kelly asked.
“Not after we married, but she attended a lot of luncheons.”
Kelly’s mouth tightened. “This is nuts.”
“He’s a scared, confused little boy,” Trey said. “And I’m only asking for one night.”
She shook her head and stared at the cheese tray. “I’d have to swing by my apartment in the morning to get my uniform.”
“That’s not a problem,” Trey said. “Like I said, whatever it takes.”
“All right,” Kelly said, throwing up her arms in surrender. “I’m not convinced it’s the right thing to do, but I’ll stay.”
“Thank you,” Trey said, putting as much meaning into the words as he could muster. “Please feel free to make yourself at home while you’re here.”
The cop looked interested in that idea, but before she could ask a question, Maria appeared at the door to the dining room, uncharacteristically twisting her apron in both hands. Jason’s condition was hard on everyone in the house.
“The police are here with a sketch artist,” she said. “They want to work with Officer Jenkins.”
“Of course,” Trey said. “Show them to the solarium.”
“Damn,” Kelly murmured, coming to her feet. “I forgot about that.”
“So I guess it’s good you didn’t leave,” Trey said.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, Kelly nodded her approval at the completed sketches of Adam and Caleb. Rafael, the artist, had captured their likenesses quite well. Not exact, of course, but close enough to give patrol officers a good tool to work with.
“I wish everyone had a memory as good as yours,” Rafael said as he packed his drawing materials into a huge canvas satchel. “You made my job easy.”
“It would be hard to forget those scumbags,” Kelly said.
“Did you hear someone on scene filmed your encounter with the kidnappers on their phone and gave the video to Channel Eight?”
“Seriously?” While she’d been banished to fantasyland, the case—her case—had developed leads and moved forward in the real world without her. She was totally out of the loop because she’d been busy babysitting a screwed-up kid.
“Yeah, but the video is of you holding the Wentworth kid,” Rafael said. “They didn’t manage to get a good head shot of either perp.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Good thing, or I’d be out of a job. Channel Eight showed the recording on the six o’clock news. Congratulations on your thirty seconds of fame.”
“Gee, thanks.” But she was curious about what had been captured. Maybe she could catch the footage at eleven o’clock. She hadn’t seen a TV anywhere in this mansion, but there had to be one somewhere.
Laughing, Rafael turned to look out on the pool deck through the huge plate glass windows of the solarium, a room full of casual wicker furniture, colorful prints and green plants, including more blooming orchids. Kelly followed his gaze and found the two officers who had driven him over sitting at a table with a glass pitcher of what looked like iced tea and another cheese-and-fruit tray. Both men had their feet up. A glorious sunset was in full view behind them, creating a scene fit for a slick travel magazine—if it weren’t for the two cops in black uniforms with loaded guns on their hips.
“Now, there’s a duty I could get used to,” Rafael said.
“You think so? I’d be bored sick sitting around and doing nothing.”
“That’s a sickness I could take,” Rafael said. “I guess a stay on Collins Island is your reward for saving Wentworth’s kid.” He nodded at the remains of a buffet the blonde cook had laid out for them. “Damn, but that food was amazing.”
“I’m leaving in the morning.”
Rafael turned back. “Good job, by the way.” He gave her a high five, the slap of their palms sharp in the quiet room. “I’ve already heard talk of a commendation for you.”
“Thanks.” A feeling of pleasure tickled her belly. A commendation? Really? Still gazing at the resort-like view, she added, “But I did what anyone would.”
“Yeah, right. Anybody would karate-kick a gun out of a perp’s hand. How’s the kid by the way?”
Kelly shrugged, ashamed of her resentful thoughts about babysitting Jason. Poor little dude’s head was in a super bad place. What was one day out of her life? “Asleep. Hopefully he’ll be himself again when he wakes up.”
“And if he’s not?” Rafael asked.
Kelly shook her head. “I don’t know.” But she did know, and she didn’t like the idea of Carico stashing the little guy in a loony bin. Even if they found one for kids. Even if the hospital was as luxurious as this villa. Jason needed to be with his father and in familiar surroundings. She wasn’t any shrink, but she knew the only way he’d get better was to be around people who loved him.
And his father might be a jerk, but he loved his son. That was Wentworth’s only saving grace. Well, besides his looks.
Rafael hefted his satchel over his shoulder. “Let me roust my ride and get going. Having to use that ferry takes forever.” At the last minute, he stepped to the buffet, wrapped two sandwiches in a napkin and stuffed them in his bag. He winked at her. “For my wife.”
“You may have a hard time getting those guys out of their chairs,” Kelly yelled after him.
With a backward wave, the artist disappeared. She heard a voice in the hall—probably Maria—directing the way out.
Kelly turned back to the view. Man, but she longed for a swim in that pool, had wanted to dive in since she’d first laid eyes on it. And hadn’t Wentworth told her to make herself at home? Unfortunately, she didn’t have a bathing suit. Or goggles.
A few minutes later, Rafael appeared on the pool deck next to the officers. She smiled as she watched the exchange. She couldn’t hear the conversation but could imagine the jokes about not wanting to leave the good life. When the three men walked off the deck, she felt suddenly alone, as if her posse had abandoned her with the enemy.
Which was ridiculous, of course. Wentworth wasn’t her enemy. But he wasn’t her friend.
She glanced at her watch. Eight fifteen. Now what? She wasn’t used to having nothing to do. She rotated her neck as frustration and pent-up energy ate at her. If she were home, she’d be studying or exercising. Yeah, definitely exercising after all the extra calories she’d consumed today.
What she needed was a workout. If she couldn’t swim, why not go for a run? Or at least a walk around billionaire island. Maria had laundered her running gear. Even better, maybe the mansion had a gym. Would it be rude to search?
Yes, it would. Her mother had managed to teach her that much at least. But she could ask.
With a sigh, Kelly left the solarium, hoping she didn’t get lost in this monstrosity of a house. When she entered the hall, she found Maria waiting for her.
“Would you like something more to eat, Miss Kelly?” the housekeeper asked.
“After that buffet? No, thank you, Maria. I’m stuffed.”
Maria nodded, her blackened eye appearing even more swollen now. “Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Kelly?”
“To tell you the truth, I really need to burn off some energy. I’m wondering if there’s a gym or any sort of exercise equipment around that I could use.”
“Of course.”
Kelly followed Maria to a one-story building off the pool deck. Inside was a large gym with free weights, pneumatic equipment, treadmills and spin machines.
“Sweet,” Kelly murmured. This state-of-the-art gym was equipped better than what the department had available at the West Dade training facility. Being a gazillionaire did have its perks.
“Any chance your boss will want to work out tonight?” she asked.
“No. Mr. Wentworth comes here in the morning.”
“So he won’t mind if I use his gym?”
“He said to let you do whatever you want.”
Kelly glanced down at the clothing provided by Wentworth earlier in the day. Comfortable enough, but designed for a golf game, not a serious workout. “I’m going up to my room to change first.”
“Can you find your way, Ms. Kelly?”
“Second right at the top of the stairs. Thanks, Maria.”
Energized because she had a plan, Kelly hurried to the room she’d used earlier, picking out landmarks so she could find the gym again. More clothing, two pastel golf sets similar to the one she had on, were laid out on the bed. This time even clean lingerie had been provided. She fingered a white lacy bra and matching panties created by a French company she would never dream of splurging on. Wentworth had nailed her cup size.
But of course he had. Her face warmed as she remembered he’d gotten a good look at her bare breasts.
She ought to be grateful he’d provided clean underwear for her to put on in the morning. So why did she feel resentful of Wentworth’s courtesies? Maybe because with his bottomless pockets the man could do whatever he wanted, and that kind of power bred a dangerous kind of arrogance. And contempt.
She didn’t belong here. All this luxury wasn’t her thing and never would or could be. Really, who laid out such a lavish buffet for two people? What waste. She could remember days when her belly had ached from hunger.
She picked up one of the outfits to check the size, and found a bright red bikini bathing suit underneath. Hardly appropriate for swimming laps, but no doubt the type of swimwear Wentworth’s bimbos wore to parade around his pool. Should she be grateful or insulted?
Shaking her head, Kelly moved to the window and gazed down at the pool deck, now illuminated by hidden lights. Barely visible, in the distance the dark Atlantic Ocean stretched into an unseen horizon.
She leaned against the window frame. God, what a gorgeous piece of real estate. A laugh bubbled up as she considered the ludicrous proposition of her squad making a domestic call to this island paradise. Anyone in trouble would bleed out before the cops could manage to get on and off that slow ferry.
At the sound of voices, she refocused on the deck and stood up straight. Trey Wentworth, dressed in a black tux that fit him as if custom made—and likely was—spoke to a giant, muscled dude that looked as if he were straight out of special forces. She figured the big guy had to be a bodyguard or security of some sort, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Wentworth.
Smooth and sophisticated in black tie, he made her think of James Bond. South Beach style. God, but he looked good enough to eat.
Why was he so dressed up? But she knew why. Obviously the man had a date. That couldn’t be right. His son had been kidnapped, rescued—by her, thank you very much—flipped out and then drugged into oblivion, but Wentworth, obviously not a candidate for dad of the year, was going out on the town to some swanky shindig?
What kind of a father did that?
When he looked up at her window, Kelly jumped out of the way, hoping he hadn’t seen her. This family’s dirty laundry was none of her business.
She quickly changed into her clean running shorts and jog bra. Feeling better in her own clothes, she hurried back down the stairs only to encounter Wentworth striding across the loggia toward the front door—looking even more delicious in the brighter light. As his arm moved, she caught the flash of gold at his cuffs, and again stepped out of sight. Things were awkward enough between them without the man thinking she was a stalker.
Hans opened the door to the limo, and Wentworth climbed in. Kelly moved forward to watch the black vehicle drive away.
Well, do have such a good time, Mr. Billionaire. Oh, and don’t worry about your traumatized son. I’ll be here in case Jason wakes up and needs a parent to comfort him.
She whirled away from the disappearing tail lights and marched toward the gym. Man, did she ever need that workout.
