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“Maybe it was all in my mind,” she said, then shook her head. “There are lots of Taurus cars on the road, and blue wagons are a dime a dozen.”
Zane sucked a breath between his teeth. “You were followed here by a Taurus?” he asked, laying his gun on the table.
“No—it was the blue wagon.” She explained about losing the car that had been chasing her only to run into it again in the parking garage.
She thought Zane would call additional men to seal off the garage, but instead he walked to the desk and punched the intercom. “Peggy, send Tim Rafferty in, if he’s here.”
A few seconds later a blond man of about twenty—the very man who had been behind the wheel of the blue station wagon—walked into Zane’s office. Kaylie nearly screamed.
Zane dragged a hand through his hair. “Is this the guy?”
“Yes, but—” Cold realization started in the pit of her stomach and crawled up her spine.
“Tim works for me,” Zane admitted, his face ashen. “Tim, this is my wife, Kaylie Melville. Kaylie…Tim.”
“But—”
“I told him to follow you,” Zane clarified.
“But why—Oh, God, no, don’t tell me,” she said, her heart dropping to her knees in disappointment. “You’ve already started it again, haven’t you?” she whispered, her voice ragged.
“I had some of my men assigned to follow you for a few weeks—ever since I got the phone calls from Ted.” He motioned for Tim to leave the room, and the blond slipped out, shutting the door behind him.
Kaylie was furious. Her heart pounded in her ears as she realized they were replaying the same mistakes all over again. Her voice so low she could barely hear her own words, she said, “How could you?”
“Because I love you, damn it. And I wasn’t going to lose you again.”
Her throat worked, but no words came. Strangled with disappointment, she stared at her hands.
“I told Brad just this morning to take all the men off the case.”
“All the men? You mean there were more than one?”
“Six men rotated.”
“Six? Tim must’ve missed the message.”
“Don’t make this any harder than it is, Kaylie,” he said, returning the revolver to his desk drawer.
“Oh, Lord, Zane, you don’t trust me at all, do you?”
He snorted. “I just don’t trust the public.”
Closing her eyes against the tears that threatened, she shook her head slowly from side to side. “I should have known you wouldn’t change,” she said, dying a little when she noticed the band of gold and diamonds on her left ring finger.
“I have changed.”
“Not enough.” Why had she been so foolish? A tear slid from the corner of her eye, and she dashed it away. “I—I wanted this to work.”
“It will, Kaylie. We’ll make it work.”
“Will we?” She sniffed loudly, then squared her shoulders. She’d been played for a fool, a childish, simpleminded fool for the last time. “And how will you handle the fact that one of the next guests on West Coast Morning might be Dr. Anthony Henshaw?”
Zane’s eyes narrowed. “Johnston’s doctor? Is this some kind of morbid joke?”
“I wish,” she said with a sigh. She rubbed her arms as if suddenly chilled and explained her conversation with Jim and Alan.
“And you agreed to this?” Zane charged.
