Christmas Guardian Page 5

  “It’s the only answer I can give you. My employer didn’t say why he wanted you followed, only that I was to report where you went tonight and who went with you.”

  That was a lot of info crammed into that brief two-sentence report. “Why didn’t Burke just ask me where I was going? I saw him at the party less than an hour ago.”

  The guy blinked. “Because Burke didn’t hire me.”

  Jordan studied the guy’s face, looking for any sign that he was lying, but he seemed darn smug about telling the truth. “Then who did?”

  “Dunno. I was contracted freelance through a broker.”

  A broker. In other words, a middle man who acted as a go-between for P.I.s and clients who didn’t want to be identified. That didn’t mean the employer couldn’t be traced. It just meant Jordan would have to dig through some layers to get to it. Judging from what Anderson had said, Kinley was the reason for this since his employer had wanted to know who went anywhere with Jordan.

  “What did your broker-using employer tell you to do?” Jordan questioned.

  “Wait outside Sentron.” The man paused. “And when you left, I was to follow you and report back.”

  They were simple instructions, but they could have deadly implications.

  Jordan stared at him. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a really lousy P.I. or if you wanted me to know I was being followed.”

  Anderson lifted his shoulder.

  “Well?” Jordan pressed. “Which is it?”

  It still took him several moments to answer. “I was told to be obvious.”

  So, this was for intimidation. “Why?”

  “Wasn’t told that,” Anderson insisted.

  Jordan was about to push for more details, but he spotted the headlights of another vehicle. He eased his gun to his side so as not to alarm any of his neighbors who might be coming home late.

  But the car stopped.

  It stayed idling just up the street. And the driver kept the high beams on so that the blinding light glared through the darkness.

  Anderson glanced back at the car. “I’m leaving now. My advice—you do the same.”

  “Who’s your friend in the car?” Jordan demanded.

  “Don’t have a clue.” His cockiness and confidence vanished, and he turned.

  Jordan considered stopping him, but it was too risky. If the guy with the high beams was an enemy, then Jordan would be outnumbered.

  Maybe outgunned.

  Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him, but he had Kinley in the car. And even though the car and glass were bulletproof, this whole situation was suddenly making him very uncomfortable. Jordan got that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and that feeling had saved him too many times to start ignoring it now.

  “For the record,” Jordan said to Anderson, “I’m taking my date to my house, and I’d prefer not to have any interruptions. Understand?”

  Anderson held up his hands in mock surrender and looked over his shoulder again. “I’m not the one you should be worried about.” And with that, he got into his vehicle, did a doughnut in the road and sped in the direction of the other waiting car. Anderson whipped past it and disappeared into the darkness.

  The car didn’t budge. It just sat there. Like a predator waiting to attack. Jordan kept his eye on it and walked backward to his Porsche.

  “What just happened?” Kinley asked the moment he got inside. She swallowed hard.

  “I’m not sure.”

  He worked fast so that they wouldn’t have to sit there any longer than necessary. He opened his glove compartment and extracted a small pair of high-powered binoculars. Through his partially opened door, Jordan looked back at the car.

  The high beams were a serious problem, but the binoculars were far from ordinary. His research team had designed them for all-weather, all-terrain surveillance. He made some adjustments and zoomed in on the Texas plates. The moment he had the number, he fed that into his PDA—which wasn’t ordinary, either. He had been able to control most of Sentron, his estate and his training facility with that modified PDA.

  Since it might take awhile for the data to be retrieved from the Department of Public Safety files, he put the Porsche in gear and started driving.

  “What about that other car?” Kinley asked. She turned in the seat and kept watch.

  “I’ll know details soon.” Maybe then he could figure out what was happening and fix the problem. But neither of those things were what troubled him most.

  It was Gus.

  Jordan prayed he was doing the right thing and wasn’t putting the baby right in harm’s way. He drove toward his estate.

  And the other car followed.

  KINLEY FOLLOWED JORDAN through the garage and into the three-story house.

  When they’d first pulled into the circular driveway of the estate, Kinley had half expected a chauffeur, a butler or some other servant to come running out to assist Jordan. But no one had come, and with the other vehicle creeping along behind them, Jordan had pulled into the garage, waited for the door to shut and only then had he gotten her out of the car and into the estate.

  They entered the house itself through a passageway that led to the kitchen. Massive was an understatement. Like the driveway, it too was circular with floor-to-ceiling windows on the back half of the room. Lights came on as they stepped inside and revealed all gleaming stainless-steel appliances and slick black granite countertops. Not exactly homey, but since there were dishes in the sink, it was obvious that Jordan used the place for mundane things like eating.

  “Is it safe to talk?” she asked, looking around. But not at the kitchen decor. Kinley looked for any signs that a child lived here.

  She saw none.

  “It’s safe,” he assured her.

  Jordan set her overnight bag on the counter, walked ahead of her and made his way through a butler’s pantry, a formal dining room and finally into the foyer that was larger than her entire apartment. Again, lights flared on as they entered each new area.

  No sign of a child here, either.

  Just pristine slate floors, flawless dove-gray walls, a stately, double circular staircase and a twelve-foot-high Christmas tree decorated with silver foil ribbons and delicate Waterford crystal ornaments that seemed to catch every ray of the twinkling lights.

  Jordan stopped at a landscape oil painting, one of the few pieces of artwork in the minimally decorated area, and he lifted it to reveal a panel of various buttons and even a small screen. He pressed some of those buttons, probably to activate a security system.

  Which they might need.

  After a few keystrokes, images popped onto the screen. He obviously had cameras all around the place, and he looked at each frame.

  The car was no longer there.

  “He must have left.” Kinley let out a deep breath.

  Jordan didn’t respond to that. Instead, he took out his phone, scrolled through the numbers and pressed the call button. He put it on speaker.

  Kinley could hear the ringing, but while Jordan waited for someone to answer, he closed the painting and started down the hall that fed off the left side of the foyer.

  “Burke, here,” the man finally answered. “Jordan?” He obviously saw Jordan’s name on his caller ID. “I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”

  “Didn’t you?” was all Jordan said.

  Burke paused. “Hold on a minute and let me take this call in private.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” Jordan zipped past the half dozen or so rooms, went to one at the far end of the hall and put his face close to a small device mounted on the wall. A red vertical thread of light moved over his eyes.

  A retinal scan.

  This was no ordinary security system.

  The door opened, and he walked inside. It was his office, she realized. And as she’d expected, it was well equipped with laptops, various keyboards and plasma screens on the walls that completely encircled the room. With a flick of a switch, all the screens c
ame on to show the different views of the security cameras.

  Definitely not ordinary.

  “Okay, I’m back,” Burke said. “Am I supposed to know what you meant by your last remark? Why would you think I’d expected to hear from you tonight?” His voice was still friendly enough, as if he thought this might be the start of a joke.

  Kinley wished it were a joke.

  “Anderson Walker,” Jordan countered. “Why was he following me?”

  “Was he?”

  “Yeah.” More keystrokes and the largest screen on the center wall changed images. Not the estate any longer. But Sentron headquarters. The party was still going on, and Jordan zoomed in on Burke. The man was walking toward the far corner of the room, away from the others. Probably so this conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

  Burke’s face looked almost the same as it had earlier, except for the slight tightness around his mouth. Hardly any emotion considering the terse discussion. The man certainly had a poker face.

  “You think I’d send one of my men to follow you?” Burke questioned. “Why would I do that?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Can’t. Because there’s nothing to tell. But trust me, I’ll check into the matter. You’re sure it was Walker?”

  “Positive.”

  Burke walked even farther away from the others, until he was at the edge of the hall that led to the command center where Jordan had taken Kinley earlier. The man glanced around, his nerves showing slightly. “You confronted him?”

  “I did. He said he was freelancing. But there was another car. Someone else. Any idea who that would be?”

  “None.” The assurance was fast and confident. “I’ll get back to you when I find out what’s going on.” He paused. “Why do you distrust me?”

  “I distrust everyone,” Jordan answered. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend a quiet night with my date. No more P.I.s tailing me.” And with that warning still hanging in the air, he hung up.

  Jordan kept his attention fastened to Burke and zoomed in even closer when the man pulled back his phone and began to make another call.

  But then Burke stopped.

  Actually, he froze.

  Burke’s back was to them so Kinley could no longer see his expression. He waited there just a few seconds before walking down the hall.

  Jordan did more keystrokes, and the images on the screen changed. He’d picked up surveillance with Burke now in the command center.

  While she knew this was important—they needed to find out why Anderson Walker had followed them—she couldn’t get her mind off her son.

  Was Maddox possibly at the estate?

  It was certainly large enough for the child to be hidden away there. And he would indeed have to be hidden. After the events of the night, Kinley knew for a fact that her son was in danger.

  Partly because of her.

  And she silently cursed that she’d ever stepped foot in the Bassfield Research Facility. Of course, if she hadn’t, she would have never met Maddox’s father. It would take time to try to come to terms with that irony. The very man who had put her in such danger had also given her a child she loved more than life itself.

  She glanced at Jordan, who had his attention fastened to the screen. Burke made that call, but she didn’t think Jordan was able to see the numbers the man had pressed because Burke kept his back to them.

  Kinley stepped into the doorway so she could have another look at the hall. She listened. There were no sounds of a child. No sounds except Jordan’s keystrokes on one of the laptops. Her heart dropped a little. She’d wanted to see her child, but the evidence wasn’t pointing to his being in the house. There were no servants visible and no nanny, either.

  She walked up the hall. Still listening. Still hoping that she would get a glimpse of something that belonged to her son. But she didn’t make it far. She heard Jordan mumble something, and she hurried back to see what’d caused that.

  The center screen was blank.

  “Burke just killed the camera feed,” Jordan snarled.

  Kinley was about to ask why, but the answer was obvious. “He doesn’t want us to know what he’s doing.”

  “Either that, or he’s just trying to piss me off. Until midnight, I’m still the legal owner of Sentron.” He sat down in the desk chair, took out his PDA and connected it to the computer. “I need to figure out who was in that second car, and it might take a while. If you want something to eat, help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

  He was giving her free rein of the place. Her heart dropped even further. He likely wouldn’t do that if her son was anywhere around.

  New images popped onto the center screen. Frame by frame. It was still images of the other car that had followed them, and Jordan began to whittle away at the high-beam lights. He was trying to get a look at who was behind the wheel.

  Kinley started to turn to do more snooping around the estate, but something caught her eye. Not the zipping-by images of the car. Or even Jordan’s now-frantic keystrokes. But a screen six monitors to the right of the large center one.

  She saw a room.

  This time, she could indeed describe it as homey. There was a rocking chair. A sofa. But there was also something else in the corner.

  She went closer and saw the chest.

  Not some antique or high-end piece of furniture. It was white with bunnies painted on it.

  A child’s toy chest.

  That thought had no sooner flashed in her mind when the image disappeared. In that exact moment, Jordan spared her a glance.

  “That was a toy box,” she said, pointing toward the screen. “Does that mean Maddox is here?”

  But he didn’t answer. There was a series of sharp beeps, and Jordan cursed.

  Kinley frantically looked around at all the monitors, expecting to see some kind of security breach. Maybe the other vehicle had returned. But the screens showed no such threat.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  He eased out of his chair and went to her. So close they were practically touching. Kinley stepped back, or rather she tried to, but he caught on to her arm, leaned in and put his mouth against her cheek.

  “We have to do more damage control,” Jordan told her.

  Oh, God. Not again. “Someone’s listening?” she whispered.

  “No. Worse. Someone’s watching.”

  Chapter Five

  Jordan couldn’t believe what was happening.

  Someone was damn insistent, and to compound the problem, whoever was doing this had some high-tech resources. This wasn’t an amateur intrusion. The equipment aimed at his estate was expensive, and judging from the signals that his security system had picked up, it was also powerful.

  “Someone has a thermal scanner aimed at the house,” Jordan explained.

  And that meant the thermal scanner was recording their every move. They’d have to pretend to be lovers again, until he could neutralize the threat.

  “Can you block the signals?” Kinley asked.

  “Not this particular scanner. And not in this part of the estate. It’d possibly disrupt the security equipment. I can’t risk that.”

  Because that might be the point. The scanner was perhaps a ploy to get him to disarm the system so there could be a break-in.

  She pulled back, met his gaze and, judging from her expression, Kinley was aware of the dangers of a failed security system. “We need to figure out who’s doing this. Is there a way to pinpoint the source?”

  Good. She wasn’t panicking. She was trying to think her way through this. Unfortunately, Jordan had already considered that option. “It’s a remote signal. In other words, someone likely left a small device near the house, anywhere within a block radius, but it isn’t being manned. So, we wouldn’t easily be able to find it. Or trace it. The signals are being sent to some other location.”

  Probably a location at least a mile away. That’s the way he would do it if he’d set up this operation.
>
  And that was a big concern.

  This person thought like him.

  So who was doing this?

  He hooked his arm around Kinley’s waist and got her moving. First to the kitchen so he could retrieve her overnight bag, and then he started down the corridor on the opposite side of the house. He kept her close, pulled right against him, and hoped they were generating enough body heat to convince their intruder that sex was about to happen.

  Jordan figured he would be convincing enough.

  For reasons he didn’t want to explore, just being near Kinley reminded him that he did indeed want to have sex with her.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “My bedroom. Not for that,” he added when her breath went still. “The thermal scan won’t be able to penetrate the walls because I have them lined with thick metal.”

  Her breath didn’t exactly even out. No doubt it was sinking in fast that he did not live a normal life.

  On several levels.

  He gave her a kiss, his lips landing on her cheek. It was one last part of the show before he took her into his suite and shut the door.

  “Sorry, but you’ll have to sleep here tonight,” Jordan informed her, his mind already a dozen steps ahead of what they had to do. “I can take the floor. You can take the bed.”

  She nodded, but her attention wasn’t on him. It was on the room. He glanced around as well, trying to see it through her eyes. He wasn’t much for decor—he’d left that to the experts—but this was indeed his space.

  His sanctuary.

  It wasn’t palatial like some of the other rooms. It was homey despite the vaulted ceilings and wall of windows that overlooked the gardens. He’d kept the colors in shades of gray and white. Simple. Clean. And with the security features, it wasn’t just homey, it was safe.

  “Those windows,” she questioned, pointing to them, “are they bulletproof?”

  Jordan nodded. “And no one can see in.”

  She nodded as well. “That explains why there aren’t any drapes.”

  “The glass can be darkened when I want to sleep in.” Which wouldn’t be anytime soon. Too much to do. He put her overnight bag on the corner desk. “I want to go over your notes.”