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“Let me check,” Carlos said. He moved to the guard shack and returned with a clipboard. He flipped a few pages and said, “Of course Mr. Trey Wentworth, Alexander Wentworth—I believe that’s his father—Maria Navarre, plus Hans and Greta Karies.”
“Clearance is usually done by phone, right?”
“Usually,” Carlos agreed.
“How do you know the person on the phone is the person they say they are?”
Carlos looked blank for a second, and then grimaced. “Well, we check the number on caller ID, but I guess we don’t know for sure who is speaking. Do you want to talk to my supervisor about this?”
“Not necessary,” Kelly said. “You’ve answered all of my questions. Thanks very much.”
“Anytime,” Carlos said as they shook again.
Kelly moved back toward the limo where Hans leaned against the driver’s side door, watching her intently.
She shook her head. The security on this island was supposed to be the best in Miami, but as many as three of Trey’s staff could have given clearance for the kidnappers to board the ferry.
* * *
WHEN KELLY APPEARED in the doorway of the media room, the dread that had knotted Trey’s gut loosened its grip. Tonight, he’d been as anxious as Jason for her to return home.
Their gazes locked across the room. She smiled uncertainly, and then focused on Jason who lay on the floor transfixed by the television.
She’d already been up to her room and had changed out of her uniform into a Miami-Dade County Police T-shirt and blue jeans that hugged her long legs.
Trey held his breath, waiting for his son to notice her arrival. Trey prayed today was the day Jason returned to reality.
Kelly moved into the room. Jason looked behind him and then leaped to his feet.
“Mommy,” he cried, throwing his arms around her legs.
Trey sighed.
She bent over and hugged him. “Hi, Jason. Whatcha watching?”
Jason grabbed her hand and related the convoluted plot of his favorite cartoon, one he’d seen hundreds of times. Kelly appeared dazed by the end of the explanation.
“It’s almost over,” he said. “Then we’ll have dinner.” A doubtful expression clouded his precious face. “Unless you’re real hungry.”
“Go ahead and finish your movie,” Kelly said, and joined Trey on the sofa.
“Hi,” Trey said.
“So I guess I’m still Mom,” she said softly.
“It appears so.” Keeping his voice low so Jason couldn’t overhear, Trey asked, “What happened with the lineup at FBI headquarters?”
“They had the wrong guy,” Kelly said. “A giant waste of time.”
Trey released a breath. So Darlene’s father hadn’t kidnapped Jason. He should be relieved, but that meant the bad guys were still out there gunning for Kelly and maybe Jason again. Far better if Jeff Lawson had been their guy.
“Any problems today?” Trey asked. “More bombs or other incendiary devices?”
“No bombs,” she said. “But definitely some problems.”
“I hope just normal police work.”
Kelly glanced at Jason, but he was caught up in the cartoon. “I’m in trouble with my sergeant for missing duty.”
“What? You’re kidding?”
“I wish I were.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“No.”
“Let me make a phone call.”
“Absolutely not,” Kelly insisted. “You’d only make it worse. I just have to keep my head down and do my job.”
Trey nodded. But he knew Kelly’s history now. She’d been through hell and back and had managed to come out on the other side a good person, someone who still wanted to help others. She’d worked two, sometimes three jobs at a time while attending a local university to study criminal justice, graduating with a damned good grade point average. It’d taken him longer to get through Princeton on his father’s dime, and he’d never worked a day while in school.
He couldn’t let the fact that Kelly had helped his son impact her career. He had to find some way to help her.
“Although,” she muttered, “it’ll be tough to fly under the radar when I’m delivered to work by a limo every day.”
