Security Measures. Joanna Wayne

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Security Measures - Joanna Wayne Mills & Boon Intrigue

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of him indicates he’s delusional at times.”

      “Meaning what?”

      “He doesn’t have a firm grasp on reality. That’s all it said.”

      Delusional, meaning all his fears about Tyrone could be groundless.

      “Are you okay?”

      Far from it, but she didn’t dare give that away, not with Vincent glaring at her and listening to every word she said. “I’m fine.”

      “Call me if you need anything or if you hear from Vincent. Though like I said, there’s no reason to indicate he knows you’re alive.”

      None, except that he was standing in her bedroom, telling her disturbing tales about Kelly.

      “Later.”

      “Yeah, later.”

      She broke the connection and turned back to Vincent. She expected him to bombard her with questions about the call, but apparently he was satisfied that she hadn’t given his presence away.

      “I’ll get out of here and leave you alone,” he said, picking up the tray. “But no funny stuff.”

      “No funny stuff.”

      “I mean it. I don’t care what your marshal friend says. Tyrone may have convinced him he’s gone straight, but I know him too well. He’s out for revenge. Turn me in, and you and Kelly don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting out of this alive.”

      Vincent’s words ricocheted around in her brain like stray bullets, hitting old and new fears at random and making her blood run icy cold.

      STRANGE THAT BEING on the run didn’t make Vincent feel nearly as vulnerable as finally meeting his daughter did. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. Meeting her was like waking up on Christmas morning and finding this present so fantastic that you’d never even imagined it existed sitting under the tree.

      Even though she was pouting about missing out on her trip to New Orleans, she was still amazing. Smart. Spunky. And he hadn’t lied when he’d said she had his eyes. She did, but the rest of her was all Candy, or Janice as she went by now. She wasn’t as pretty as her mother, but she would be in time.

      Time that he had to make sure she got.

      He opened the door to her bedroom and went inside. He skimmed the items on her bulletin board, then picked up a picture of Kelly and Janice, heads together, both laughing. He tensed, as if he were gearing up for a fight.

      It wasn’t as if he felt anything for Janice anymore. He didn’t. How could he be attracted to a woman who hadn’t even looked him in the eye when she’d sat on the witness stand and testified for the prosecutor? But that was behind him. It was Kelly he was here for, her safety that was all important.

      He sat down at the computer and brought up her e-mail. Thankfully he didn’t have to worry with trying to figure out her password. She had left it so that it came up automatically when he went to her Internet access. Kelly’s mailbox was full of new and previously read messages.

      He read the most recent ones and found a few Byron had written under the pseudonym of Ringman. He scrolled down, reading earlier messages from Byron. Nothing gave him away as working for Tyrone, but nothing cleared him, either. He’d have to find out more about the kid. He’d start by visiting the chat room where Kelly and Byron had met.

      But he’d also get the address of Byron’s computer and see what information he could get online. He had learned a few helpful things in prison.

      KELLY WAS sprawled out on the sofa skimming the latest issue of Seventeen magazine with the earphones to her radio firmly planted in her ears. Vincent was in Kelly’s room with the door closed. Janice was in the laundry room folding shorts and shirts still warm from the dryer and considering her plan of action.

      Vincent had taken her by surprise last night. His argument that she needed him to protect Kelly had struck such fear in her heart that she’d gone along with him.

      But Ken’s call had started her seeing things a bit differently. She still thought that Vincent actually believed Tyrone was a real and imminent danger. But if he were delusional, that would explain his intensity and fears. And it might mean that he could turn dangerous himself, especially if she ordered him out of the house.

      She had to get Kelly away from him. She could do it. Kelly’s clothes from the beach were here in the laundry room; so was their luggage. Janice’s clothes, makeup and the charger for her cell phone had never been unpacked.

      All she had to do was add a few things to the luggage, and they could get in the car and drive away before Vincent even realized they were gone. Then she could contact Ken and he would take over from there.

      But she had to do this just right. If Kelly made a scene in any way, Vincent would hear her in the back of the house and come running in to see what was up.

      She repacked Kelly’s clothes and carried both pieces of luggage to the SUV, careful to make as little noise as possible when she opened the back door and set them inside. So far, so good, but the real challenge was yet to come.

      Trying to appear as calm as possible, she walked to the den and sat down on the arm of the sofa. When Kelly looked up she motioned for her to take the earphones off.

      “What’s up?”

      This was it. One yell of protest from Kelly, one untimely appearance by Vincent, one wrong move, and her plan could prove to be fatal. It was a risk, but one she had to take.

      She had to make this work.

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