Security Measures

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.

Chapter Three

“Out for a walk?”

Kelly froze for a second, then spun around. But it was only Vincent. “Kind of,” she answered, then felt herself getting all tense. “Are you following me?”

“I heard you leave the house and I thought you might like company.”

“Only if you don’t go blabbing to Mom. If she finds out I sneaked out, she’ll ground me until I’m thirty.”

“You must be off on some exciting adventure to risk that.”

“Not really. I have this friend…” She hesitated. Vincent seemed all right—for an adult—but that didn’t mean she could trust him not to repeat any of this to her mother. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to go for a walk.”

“To meet the friend? Don’t worry. I don’t squeal.”

“Yeah, I’m meeting a boy, but just to talk, you know?” She started walking again, and Vincent kept pace.

“Nice neighborhood for walking at night,” Vincent said. “Well lit. I guess it’s safe.”

“Real safe. Nothing ever happens around here.”

“You must have missed your school friends while you were on vacation.”

“Yeah, but Byron’s not exactly a school friend.”

“Just a neighborhood buddy, huh?”

“We’ll both be at the high school next year.”

“So, Byron’s older?”

“He’ll be a senior. He’s a lot more mature than the freshman boys.”

“I’ll bet. So, how did you meet Byron?”

“On the Internet. We were in a Lord of the Rings chat room, ’cause we both loved the movies.”

“Good books, too.”

“You read them?”

“The whole series, from beginning to end.”

“So did Byron. I don’t read that much, but I read the Harry Potter books. I like all that magic stuff.”

“I read those, too.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’ve had a lot of time to read lately. Does your mother disapprove of Byron? Is that why you sneak out?”

“You think I’d tell her about him? She disconnected me from the Internet for six months the last time she caught me in a chat room.”

“She’s pretty strict, huh?”

“Is she? You wouldn’t believe. It’s worse than being in prison.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“Believe me, it’s true. That’s why you have to promise not to tell her about Byron, or that I sneaked out of my room.”

“I’ll never tell—unless I think you’re in danger. Then all deals are off.”

“I’m not in danger. Byron’s a real nice boy.”

“That’s good to know, but I don’t think your going out at night without her permission is the right choice.”

“You would if you lived with someone who treats you like a two-year-old. What was your mom like?”

“She was terrific, but she died when I was too young to think about sneaking out of the house.”

“I don’t wish anything like that would happen. I love my mom. I just wish she’d ease up with the controlling bit. I bet my dad wasn’t like that.”

“He might have been with a teenage daughter.”

“How come Mom doesn’t like you?”

“You noticed, huh?”

“How could I miss it?”

“Maybe I bring back too many memories of your father.”

“Maybe, but it’s not just you. When I asked to go to the fire station in Charleston so that I could see where my father worked and meet some of the guys he worked with, she said it wasn’t a good idea. I’m beginning to think she didn’t like him very much.”

“I know he loved her and you.”

“That’s good to know. I was only two when he died, so I don’t remember anything about him. I have a picture of him that Mom gave me. He’s very handsome. I don’t look much like him, though.”

“You have his eyes.”

She smiled, and that surprised her. She hadn’t felt at all like smiling when she’d climbed out of her bedroom window. She’d been excited about seeing Byron, but they didn’t exactly have fun when they were together. Mostly they complained about their mothers and talked about how his life sucked.

“What’s Byron like?” Vincent asked, as if reading her mind.

“He’s kind of a loner, what I’d call a deep thinker.”

“What does he deep think about?”

“Life and everything.” Kelly crossed the street and turned the corner. The park was in the next block, and it backed up to some wooded lots. Mostly it was a baby park. A slide. A few swings. A climbing tower. The best part about it was a walking track that went through the woods and over a little stream. Byron lived beyond that.

“We meet in the park,” she said. “He’s probably already there. He jogs over.”

“I’d like to meet him, if that’s okay.”

“Sure. I already told him a friend of my father’s was visiting.” She led the way toward the swings. It was darker beneath the leafy branches of the oak trees, but enough moonlight filtered through so that she could see to stay on the worn path.

There was no sign of Byron, but she dropped into one of the swings anyway. Vincent took the one next to hers, the one where Byron usually sat. She’d never arrived at the park before Byron and never really realized how dark it was here. Now she was kinda glad Vincent had stuck around.

“What did my dad like to do when he was a kid?”

“He was a baseball nut. He loved playing it, watching it and collecting the cards. His favorite team was the Yankees and he had Yankees pennants all over his room.”

“I’ve never even been to a baseball game.”

“Every year for his birthday, your father’s dad took him to Yankee Stadium. It was the high point of his year. Easily beat out Christmas.”

“Wow! Every year, and I haven’t been to New York even once.”

“I should take you there.”

“Yeah, right, like my mother would let me go. She wouldn’t even trust God to take me out of town without her. If you look paranoid up in the dictionary, you’ll see her picture.”

But Kelly was getting a little worried herself now. Byron was always here when he said he’d be. “I can’t imagine what happened to my friend.”

“Maybe he saw me and ran off.”

“Could be, but… I don’t know. I’m starting to get a really weird feeling about this.” She looked around, not that she could see much.

“I have a cell phone. Would you like to call him?”

“Can’t. I don’t know his phone number. We only talk in chat rooms or by instant messages. I don’t even know his last name. He says names aren’t important. It’s only who you are inside that matters.”

“Then why don’t we walk back home and you can contact him.”

“Can we just walk down the path a little farther first and make sure he’s not on his way. He comes from the opposite direction as me, through the woodsy area.”

“I’m not much for walking in the woods at night.”

Coming through the woods didn’t bother Byron, and he wasn’t nearly as big and muscled as Vincent. Adults were so strange. She got out of the swing and left it yanking around on the chains. Vincent followed her.

When they reached the path, she stood on the edge and looked back down the way Byron would have come. A noise came from the woods, like someone was trying to muffle a cough.

“Byron. If that’s you, come on out.” If it was him, he didn’t answer.

Vincent stepped between her and the woods. “Let’s get out of here.” He took her arm and led her out of the park.

“I just wish I knew what happened to Byron.”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you in your next instant message.”

That’s when she saw the silver pistol in Vincent’s hand. She’d never seen one up close before. “Are you a cop or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think there was someone in the woods?”

“No. The weapon is just a precaution.”

“Have you ever killed a guy?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

Since he didn’t answer, she figured he had. Byron would be impressed when she told him that. Only she didn’t know why a cop with a gun would be afraid to walk in the woods, even if it was dark.

THE MESSAGE from Byron came less than a minute after Kelly had connected to her server.

I thought you were coming alone.

I was, but my dad’s friend saw me sneak out of the house and tagged along. Why did you run off?”

She waited. Sometimes instant messages weren’t all that instant. Finally the new message flashed on the screen. It didn’t explain why he’d run out on her.

So what’s the guy’s name?

Vincent Jones. He’s a cop. He carries a gun. I saw it.

I never trust cops.

She laughed and grabbed a quick gulp of her soda. That was soooo Byron. Then she started typing again.

You never trust anyone.

What did you tell him about me?

That you’re a deep thinker.

Is that all?

No, I told him you’re an ax murderer. What do you think I told him, silly?

I’m just checking. Don’t tell him anything else about me. He’ll just cause trouble for us.

He’s not like that.

I’ll bet.

What about tomorrow night? Want to try again? I’ll come by myself.

We’ll see.

He was pouting. She hated it when he acted like that, especially when she took all the risks of sneaking out. Her fingers flew across the keys.

Okay. I’m off to bed.

She chose a sleepy face from the graphics, sent it off and flicked off her monitor.

It was bad enough that all her friends were leaving for New Orleans without her tomorrow. She wasn’t going to stay awake just so Byron could make her feel bad about bringing Vincent along tonight.

Besides, that had to have been him she heard in the woods. That wasn’t bright at all, so maybe he wasn’t as smart as she thought. What if Vincent had shot him or something?

She yawned and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, leaning in close and trying a couple of different looks. She had her father’s eyes. She wondered why her mother had never told her that.

JANICE ROLLED OVER as the first light of dawn crept into her bedroom. She sat up in bed, instantly alert even though it had been after 3:00 a.m. before she’d fallen asleep. A line of light crept under her bed room door, more than that cast by the night-light she left burning in the hall.

Someone was up, and she had no doubt that it was Vincent, roaming her house as if he belonged there. He’d always believed that whatever he wanted was his for the taking. Apparently prison hadn’t changed that.

She shuddered and touched the cool, hard surface of the phone. All she had to do was pick it up and call Ken Levine. He’d have cops at her door in a matter of minutes. They’d arrest Vincent and stick him right back behind bars where he belonged.

Then it would be just her and Kelly—and Tyrone.

The dark images of a horrible night hit with a rush and the darkness of the room transformed itself into a river of red. Blood pooled on the thick Persian rugs, splattered the walls and dripped from the ceilings. She could hear Tyrone Magilinti’s laugh and see the machine gun in his hand.

The images faded. She took her hand from the phone. Vincent was a Magilinti, too. He had been there that night as well, though she hadn’t seen him until the cops had busted their way inside the century-old mansion.

Her body stiffened when she heard footsteps in the hall outside her door and then a soft knock. Sliding from beneath the covers, she grabbed her white cotton robe from the foot of the bed. She padded across the floor and opened the door just a crack.

“I brought you coffee.”

She swallowed hard. There were two cups on the tray. And Vincent was standing there in jeans—no shirt, no shoes. His hair was still wet from the shower and a few drops of water clung to the dark curly hairs that speckled his chest.

Unexpected memories flooded her mind, but this time they were cruelly erotic. “Thanks,” she said, taking a cup from the tray, “but I prefer to have my coffee alone.”

“We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“You really want to make this difficult, don’t you?”

His gall amazed her. “This is difficult, Vincent, but none of it is my making.”

He pushed his way past her, set the tray on the bedside table, then went back and closed and locked the bedroom door. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to give it to you straight.”

She pulled her robe tighter, suddenly chilled through and through. “I thought you said all you had to say last night.”

“I’ve learned more since then.”

“Like what?”

“Kelly left the house last night after you went to bed.”

Her suspicions soared. “You’re lying. Kelly would never do that. Whatever you’re trying to do here, it’s not going to work.”

“She went out her window.”

“I set the alarm before I went to bed. If she’d opened her window, it would have gone off and I would have heard it.”

“Apparently she’s bypassed the alarm system some way.”

“She wouldn’t know how.”

“Then someone did it for her. Check the window. See for yourself.”

She didn’t want to believe him, yet he was either telling the truth, or he was a very good liar. “Why would she go out that late?”

“Look, I know this is disturbing, but it will be better if you let me say what I have to say without arguing with me.”

She took a long sip of the coffee. It didn’t do a thing for soothing her nerves. “I’m listening.”

“I was doing a routine check of the outside of the house when I saw Kelly climbing out of her bedroom window. She didn’t see me, so I followed her out to the street, then joined her. I walked with her to the park, where she was supposed to meet a friend named Byron. He didn’t show, but I think he was there and ran away when he saw me.”

Janice dropped to the edge of the bed, not wanting to believe Vincent, but afraid to discount his story. Kelly had been so rebellious of late; Janice worried that she might be taking up with the wrong crowd at school. “I’ve never heard her mention anyone named Byron.”

“She met him through an Internet chat room.”

“I’ve forbidden her to ever talk to strangers on the Internet.” Fear and aggravation melded and made Janice’s voice a lot shakier than she’d intended. “She deliberately broke my rules.”

“She’s a teenager,” Vincent said. “It comes with the territory. You surely remember that.”

She ignored his last remark. “I’ll take care of it from here.”

“You can’t tell Kelly that I told you this.”

“Surely you don’t think you can tell me how to discipline my daughter.”

“I told her I wouldn’t squeal on her. It’s better if she thinks she can trust me in this.”

“I will not have her sneaking out to meet some boy she met on the Internet.”

“I think it could be a lot worse than that.”

“Worse?”

“I think Tyrone could be behind this. I’m not sure how or why, but the relationship sounds suspicious. It started just after Tyrone was released on parole. It could have been Tyrone’s way of locating her or of finding out about her schedule and habits. I’ll look into it, but you have to work with me and not go blowing Kelly’s trust in me.”

She raked her fingers through her hair, pushing the blunt ends behind her ears. The irony of his words grated on her nerves. He was a convicted felon, yet he talked about trust as if it were an integral part of his dealings.

“I’ll need some time alone in Kelly’s room to check some things on her computer. I’ll ask if I can check my e-mail, but you’ll need to keep her busy so that she doesn’t come in while I’m snooping.”

“I don’t want you in her room, and…” Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. Ken. Could he possibly know Vincent was here?

“I have to answer that,” she said.

Vincent took the phone from her and checked the caller ID for himself. “The Justice Department?”

“It’s probably the marshal who’s handling my case,” she said, knowing he’d surely figured that out for himself.