Название | The Bodyguard |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sheryl Lynn |
Жанр | Зарубежные детективы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
McKennon picked up a carafe from Elise’s desk, filled a mug and offered her the steaming coffee. She accepted with an ungracious grunt. “What time is it?”
“A few minutes after two.”
“What are the cops doing now? Does anyone have any idea where Penny is?”
She settled on a love seat carefully, well aware she’d been wearing the same clothes for days. She felt dirty, exhausted and very much out of place in Elise Duke’s feminine office. Despite it being the dead of winter, fresh flowers were arranged in vases. Elise could find fresh flowers in Antarctica if she had to. The delicate furniture, shining under coats of wax, made Frankie feel even more lost and out of place.
She blew on the steaming brew, forming concentric circles on the surface. “Did the cops call in the FBI?”
McKennon’s pained exhalation told her all she needed to know. This kidnapping was going from awful to ludicrously horrible at warp speed.
“They’ll get her back.”
“How are they keeping this from the media? Elk River looks like it’s hosting a cop convention. What if the kidnappers are watching? What then?”
“I assure you they were bluffing. No way would they hang around.” He poured coffee for himself. “Did the cops ask to search your car?”
“I gave permission.” Seething, she sipped the coffee. “But I told them no way about searching my apartment. Can you believe it? They want to waste time digging around in my stuff. If they want to look that bad they can get a warrant.” The coffee made her belly rumble. Hunger flared, annoying her. “What about you?”
“I gave them permission to search everything.”
She wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. “Are you nuts?”
“You should let them search your place, too.”
“It’s a waste of time and manpower.”
“It’s an inside job, Frankie. The cops know it.”
She almost spilled the coffee. She clutched the cup with both hands. Traces of fingerprint ink smudged the ceramic surface. “What are you talking about?”
He sat beside her and placed a hand on her arm. Bemused, she stared at his hand. An overwhelming need for comforting disturbed her. She’d always been strong and able to cope with any situation. That circumstances had forced her into helplessness alternately frightened and angered her.
She meant to jerk her arm away from his hand. She would stop staring at his long, muscular fingers, as well, and stop studying the way raised veins traced patterns under the skin. She meant to—every intention was there—but she couldn’t rouse the energy to do anything except gaze unhappily at his hand upon her arm.
“For one thing, the kidnappers knew exactly where to go. The tracks led directly to the cabin.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, a limited number of people were aware that the wedding and honeymoon were taking place at the resort.”
A creepy sensation slithered through her body. Anonymous thugs were one thing. Like being struck by lightning, crime by strangers was scary, but impersonal. Being attacked by a friend, though, gnawed holes in the very idea of personal safety. “How limited?”
His brow knit. “The Dukes and the Caulfields, of course. Whoever arranged the reservation for the chapel and honeymoon cabin. Two of Penny’s friends attended the wedding and dinner along with one of Julius’s. They returned yesterday to the Springs. I have no idea who Penny or Julius might have told about the wedding, but since so few were invited I imagine they kept it quiet. All in all, I suspect the number of people who knew about the wedding is small, and the number who knew the details is even smaller. Those are our suspects.”
The man who left the message on Frankie’s answering machine knew. She sat straighter. Her heart thudded heavily.
“What is it?” he asked.
She set down the coffee mug and shifted on the seat to face him. “Who tipped me off about the wedding?”
“What?”
“Some man left a message on my machine. Why did he call?”
McKennon shook his head. “I’m not certain what you’re talking about.”
Fist pressed to her mouth, she concentrated on remembering the exact words the caller had used. “I got back from the grocery store, and there was a message on my answering machine. A man said Penny and Julius were getting married here, and I had to stop it. I called Penny’s dorm, and that’s when I found out she’d dropped out of college. So I got up here as fast as I could.” She stared fiercely into his eyes. “Was it you?”
“No,” he answered without hesitation. “You didn’t recognize the voice?”
“Uh-uh.” Fear crawled through her bones. Somebody knew her well enough to know she would drop everything and race to Elk River. If that somebody was the kidnapper then he was no friend of hers. “But you’re here. There must have been some kind of threat.”
He grunted irritably and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands laced loosely. Frankie rubbed idly at the spot where he’d been touching her.
“Well?”
He snapped his head up and she caught the tightening of his jaw and the heat in his eyes. His show of emotion comforted her. It proved he cared.
“Mrs. Caulfield needed a spy. She tried to buy off Julius and it didn’t work. She couldn’t scare Penny, either. My job was to discover something Mrs. Caulfield could use against Penny.”
“That’s disgusting.”
He lowered his face. “Mrs. Caulfield could have had one of her staff call you. Maybe she thought you’d succeed where she failed.”
The idea of Belinda stooping so low as to need Frankie’s help seemed absurd. “She’s that desperate?”
“Penny’s a serious threat. I overheard several arguments where Julius took Penny’s side rather than his mother’s. From Mrs. Caulfield’s reaction I’d say that was a first. Julius moved out about a month ago. Again, judging by how hard she took it, that was a first, too.”
“Could...?” Frankie paused, loath to speak aloud her deepest fear. She swallowed hard. “Could Belinda be behind this?” Her courage failed her. She couldn’t bear thinking the kidnapping might be a cover for making Penny permanently disappear.
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