The Billionaire's Son. Sharon Hartley

      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,