Man From Half Moon Bay: A Loveswept Classic Romance
Before she could answer he had closed the door. A moment later she heard the metallic whirr of the elevator. Sara stood quite still, letting his words sink in, weighing the nuances. Then a radiant smile lit her face. He had warned her not to trust him too much and because he had given her that warning it made her trust him all the more.
She began to hum softly as she pressed the button to start the dishwasher.
The message light was lit on Jordan’s phone when he returned to the suite. It was a request to return Pedro Marambas’s call.
Marambas picked up the receiver on the first ring. “Kemp’s flown the coop.”
Jordan gripped the receiver so tightly, his knuckles whitened. “When?”
“I’m not sure. Sometime earlier tonight.”
“Both you and the New York police were watching him. How could you let him slip away?”
Marambas didn’t answer for a moment. “We know we have egg on our faces. I’m not making excuses. The New York police blew it too. Kemp evidently got away clean, but that doesn’t mean he’s headed for California.”
“It doesn’t mean that he isn’t either,” Jordan said grimly. “Have the New York police notified the authorities here?”
“We think so.”
“Don’t think. Make sure,” Jordan said through his teeth. “And I want you to put a watch on the warehouse tonight.”
“We’ve alredy set up additional surveillance. We won’t let anything happen to Mrs. Bandor, sir.”
“You’d better not. You also assured me you wouldn’t let Kemp slip away.”
“He shouldn’t have been able to get past us. We were working very closely with the local police to avoid any confusion.” Marambas’s voice betrayed how puzzled he felt. “I don’t know how he did it. We’re damn good, Mr. Bandor.”
“So I understood when I hired you.” Jordan’s tone was acid with sarcasm. “You’d just better earn that reputation or I’ll find a way of blackening it from here to Hong Kong. I don’t want my wife so much as frightened by Kemp. Is that clear?”
“I can understand how upset you are but—”
“No, you can’t understand. There’s no way on earth you can imagine how upset I am, Marambas.” Or how frightened, Jordan thought desperately. Bone-chilling terror was icing through him, twisting his guts and making him physically ill. “Keep me informed.” He hung up the receiver.
Kemp. He had seen a picture of him in the newspaper and had been filled with a kind of wonder at how ordinary he appeared. Men who killed and mutilated young women should have some hideous marks on their face. Kemp had only looked … vacant.
“God,” Jordan muttered, “don’t let him hurt Sara.” It would make no difference to Kemp how loving and giving she was, how she shone with a warmth that was as rare as it was beautiful. He wouldn’t care. He would see her only as a victim.
He turned abruptly from the phone and dropped into the easy chair beside the desk. He couldn’t let Kemp hurt her. No matter how high the personal price he had to pay, he couldn’t let Kemp get to Sara.
Four
“You’re getting out of here.” Jordan strode past Sara into the loft. “I wasn’t able to get reservations for Sydney until the Qantas flight at ten tomorrow morning, but we’ll move you to my suite at the Fairmont until then. Where are your suitcases? I’ll help you pack.” He moved swiftly toward her bedroom area. “Kemp has slipped away from the New York police and is probably on his way here.”
“I know,” Sara said softly.
He whirled to face her. “How? Did the local police call you?”
She nodded. “Lieutenant Blaise phoned me a few hours ago. I guess I don’t have to ask how you found out. All those efficient detectives you have on your payroll. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter any longer.” She smiled wryly. “Lieutenant Blaise was very polite and apologized for waking me up. Needless to say, I didn’t go back to sleep after I hung up.”
“I can see you didn’t.” His gaze raked her pale face, noting the purple smudges beneath her eyes. He felt a tenderness so intense, it brought a lump to his throat. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He turned away. “You don’t need to pack everything. I’ll have someone send your things on later. Just take enough to last you until—”
“No, Jordan.”
He glanced back over his shoulder. “For God’s sake, this has nothing to do with anything between us,” he said roughly. “I’m not suggesting you move in with me. Well, I am, but not in the sexual sense. I just want to keep you from getting your throat cut. After they’ve caught Kemp you can come back here and I’ll jump through any hoops you set up for me.”
“I don’t want you to jump through any hoops.” Her voice was low. “And I told you last night that I trusted you.”
“Then you’ll come with me?”
“I can’t,” she said wearily. “Heaven knows I want to come, but it’s not possible. Not right now.”
He gazed at her in disbelief. “It has to be now. You’ve got to get out of her. This place is an open invitation to Kemp.”
“That’s why I moved in here.”
He froze. “I beg your pardon.” Each word was enunciated with great precision. “I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”
“The police were getting nowhere trying to dig up new evidence to convict Kemp, but they knew they had one last avenue to explore.” She gestured to herself. “Kemp’s psychological profile indicates that he probably would attempt to carry out his threat against me. So the New York police and the local authorities here decided to join forces and try to get him on an attempt charge if there was no other solution.”
“Bait,” he breathed softly. “My God, you’re letting them use you for bait.”
‘It’s the only way we can think of to get him off the streets. It’s only a matter of time before he kills again. He’s like a time bomb set to go off.” She shivered. “While I was doing that story I studied him. I know what Kemp is.”
“And you’ve set yourself up to go off with him when he explodes.”
“It won’t be like that.” Sara frowned. “Lieutenant Blaise is very competent. He assured me—”
“Don’t tell me about competence,” Jordan interrupted harshly. “Not when they’ve just let Kemp slip through their fingers …” He stopped as the realization dawned on him. “They let him go. Those idiots turned their backs and let him go.”
Sara nodded. “They considered it the best psychological moment. Kemp’s frustration has been steadily building and—”
“All very logical and cerebral,” Jordan bit out. “Your Lieutenant Blaise has it worked out, hasn’t he? If Kemp does come and they manage to capture him before he murders you, he gets him on an attempt charge. And if he does murder you, he gets him on an even bigger rap. Either way the long arm of the law wins and everybody gets promotions. And I suppose World Report will be overjoyed to get the exclusive no matter who’s alive to write it.”
“It’s not like that. No one is forcing me to do this. I agreed of my own free will.” She made a face. “And Penny and Mac would have a fit if they knew I was involved in this situation.”
“Then tell the police you’ve changed your mind. Tell them you’re not going to play their little cat-and-mouse game.” He took a step nearer. “Tell them.”
She shook her head. “He’s killed four women, Jordan. Perhaps even more that we don’t know about yet. I can’t let him take another life.”
“It’s not your responsibility. It’s the police who—” He stopped. Her expression held absolute determination. “Okay, let them use you, but not like this. Move to my suite at the Fairmont. Don’t make it so easy for Kemp. Let me be there to protect you.”
“And endanger you? I couldn’t live with myself if I did that, Jordan.”
“You may not live at all if you—” He broke off, trying to get hold of himself, trying to subdue the terror rising within him. “Stop being so damn brave. Let me help you.”
“I’m not brave,” she whispered. “I’m scared to death. I watched his face in that courtroom for four solid weeks. He’s not sane, Jordan.”
He moved instantly to take advantage of any hint of weakness. “Then he probably won’t do what those nice logical policemen think he will. How can they protect you if they don’t know which way he’ll jump?”
She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. “Please, I’m frightened enough as it is. And I will do this, Jordan.”
“Sara, dammit, you can’t …” He trailed off. It was no use. No matter what he said, he could see he wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. “Tell me what I can do. Tell me how I can keep you alive.”
“You can’t do anything. Stay out of it and let the police handle it.” She met his gaze. “I don’t want you to come near me for the next few days.”
He stared at her, feeling the pain and panic swelling within him like a tidal wave. “I don’t know if I can do that. This is all crazy, Sara.”
“Sometimes that’s the way life is. Crazy and scary and …” She drew a shaky breath and forced herself to smile. “I think you’d better leave now. Lieutenant Blaise is going to be here in another fifteen minutes to discuss the surveillance.”
“I’ll stay and talk to the bastard.”
“No,” she said sharply. “You’re out of this. This is my business and I’m the one who’s going to take care of it.”
“The hell I will. I’ll—” He stopped as he saw the wariness in her face. She hadn’t looked at him like this since that first night. He was pushing her, destroying the fledgling trust he’d nurtured so carefully. Why had this crisis had to come so soon? One false step and he could blow everything he had built between them. It was a catch-22 that made his frustration and fear escalate to new heights. His voice was hoarse. “Look, Sara, I can’t take this. I can’t stand the thought of your being hurt.”
“You have to stand it,” she said quietly. “Just as I do. If you want to help me, you’ll go now.”
He stood looking at her for a long moment and then turned and headed for the front door. “I do want to help you. I’ve got to help you.” He opened the door and glanced back over his shoulder. “Nothing in the whole damn world is more important to me than keeping you alive. Nothing, Sara.”
The door shut behind him with a forcefulness that held a hint of violence.
Sara sank down on the couch, her arms folded across her chest, hugging herself. She felt suddenly cold, isolated, now that Jordan had left. Lord, she hadn’t wanted to send him away. The temptation to go into his arms and let him hold her, protect her, had been nearly overpowering. She knew how strong Jordan was both physically and mentally, and it would have been wonderful to be able to lean on him when she was so frightened.
But she couldn’t lean on him if it meant putting him in danger. The very idea terrified her even more than facing Kemp alone. No, there was no way she could have let Jordan stay and give her the comfort she wanted so desperately.
A knock sounded on the door. Lieutenant Blaise, she thought numbly. She would have to ask him to identify himself before she opened the door. He had a key to the lift, but told her not to open the door unless she was certain she knew who was on the other side. She got up from the couch and moved swiftly across the room toward the front door.
“Marambas called again,” Cam said as soon as Jordan walked into the suite. “He said to tell you he’d contacted his informant in the office of the New York police and there was something weird going on with the surveillance crew that was shadowing Kemp. It seems they intentionally distracted our people and—”
“Let him go,” Jordan finished for him as he threw himself into a chair. “What else did he say?”
“You knew?”
“It was a setup.” Jordan’s lips tightened. “With Sara as the sacrificial lamb. A very willing lamb.”
“No wonder you look so uptight.”
“That’s a massive understatement. If they pretended to lose Kemp, they must have arranged to keep a tail on him. Has Kemp reached San Francisco yet?”
Cam shook his head. “And he won’t be here for at least another forty-eight hours. Evidently, he’s low on funds and bought a bus ticket from New York to San Francisco. It’s due in at the Greyhound station at 3:05 P.M. day after tomorrow. Marambas said to tell you his operative flew to St. Louis and will board Kemp’s bus there.”
Forty-eight hours. Kemp was coming, Jordan thought. There had been the slightest hope that Kemp might have decided not to make good on his threat, but now that hope was gone.
“What are you going to do?” Cam asked quietly. “Can’t you persuade Sara to get the hell out of this town?”
“No.” Jordan’s hands clenched on the arms of the chair. “She says she can’t let Kemp stay out on the street. She won’t even let me stay with her or help her.” He covered his eyes with his hand. It was trembling. “God, I’m scared.”
“The police will protect her,” Cam said. “I guess you’ll have to trust them.”
Jordan’s hand dropped again to the arm of the chair. “That’s easy to say. Would you be willing to sit on the sidelines if it was your wife they were using as bait?”
Cam hesitated. “No, I guess we’re both too possessive to rely on anyone else to protect what belongs to us. It must be a Bandor family trait.” He paused. “But what else can you do?”
“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to rest on my duff and do nothing.” Jordan stood up and headed for the front door. “I’m going back to Sara’s apartment and I’m staying there until they catch Kemp.”
“You said she wouldn’t let you stay with her.”
“I’ll find a way.”
A flicker of apprehension crossed Cam’s face. “Be careful, Jordan. For God’s sake, don’t lose the ground you’ve already gained. It may be too soon to—”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Jordan’s expression was bleak. “I have to take my chances. It’s better that I lose Sara than for Sara to lose her life.”
“Jordan …” Cam trailed off. What else could he say? He would probably do the same thing in Jordan’s place. “If I can help, let me know.”
“Just stay here in case Marambas calls again. Contact me right away if there’s any news about Kemp.”
“I won’t budge until you come back.” Cam hesitated. “You’ll be at Sara’s all night?”
“Yes,” Jordan lips tightened. “I’ll be at Sara’s.”
“Here take one of these sacks. I don’t want to crush your treasures.” He thrust a grocery bag into Sara’s hand and strode past her into the apartment. “Lord, it’s raining hard. I was lucky the sacks didn’t burst open in the supermarket parking lot. They’re soggy as hell.”
Sara quickly smothered the sudden leap of joy she had felt when Jordan had identified himself and she had opened the door to see him standing there. “What are you doing here? I told you—”
“To stay away from you.” Jordan gave her a flashing smile over his shoulder. “And I will, when the trap is ready to be sprung. But I’m sure your Lieutenant Blaise has told you that you don’t have to worry about Kemp for another forty-eight hours. Why should I have to eat dinner alone when there’s no reason that you can’t join me?” He set two bags down on the kitchen counter. “Or rather I can join you. We’d both be drowned if we tried to make it to a restaurant.”
He pulled off his olive crewneck sweater and tossed it on one of the kitchen stools. The white shirt he wore beneath it was almost as wet as the sweater and clung like a second skin to his lean body. She could see the shadow of the dark hair feathering his chest through the damp shirt and had a sudden heated memory of the springy texture of that thatch as it touched her bare breasts.
She forced her gaze away from his chest and up to his face. “I don’t think this is a very good idea.”
“You have to eat.” He began unpacking the groceries. “Of course, you could send one of the policemen in the unmarked car across the street
to the nearest Burger King.” He looked up and smiled. His dark hair was rumpled and slightly damp and the eye not covered by the black patch was twinkling. He looked like a mischievous pirate, and a melting tenderness touched her. “Now, wouldn’t you rather have one of these?” He rummaged in the sack until he found two cellophane-wrapped steaks and held them up triumphantly. “Did I ever tell you what a fantastic bush cook I am? I can do things with herbs and seasonings that will blow your mind.”
“You know how to cook?” Intrigued, she closed the door and moved toward him. “No, you know very well you never told me. You know everything about me and I know practically nothing about you.” She sat down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, gazing at him eagerly. “Did you spend much time in the outback?”
He lowered his gaze to the steak in his hands. “Pretty much. We didn’t always live at Half Moon Bay.” He ripped off the cellophane and turned on the broiler. “Until I was thirteen we had a station two hundred miles north of Adelaide. We barely eked out a living on the property, and my father and I earned extra money taking tourists into the outback to see ‘the glories of the land down under.’ ” He made a face. “God, I hated it. All I wanted to do was stay at home on Bandora and build our station into the best damn property in Australia.”
Jordan had never confided anything about his childhood and she was almost afraid to speak, afraid he would stop and withdraw from her again. “Bandora was the name of your station?”
Jordan nodded as he continued to unload the groceries. “My father said that someday our name would be sung from one end of the country to the other when we made Bandora all that it could be. How he loved that station.”