Identity Crisis(100)

‘Thought so,’ the man said. ‘Well, then, we should probably get this over with, because Kay Lake doesn’t seem the type to be fooled for long, and I’m betting if your brother and his fiancée aren’t willing to tie her up and lock her away, she’ll be here in a little while and she’ll be pretty damned pissed at you.’

Garrett closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he squared his shoulders and stood. ‘All right. Let’s do it.’

‘I can do it for you, if you want me to,’ Don said, his eyes still locked on Garrett as though he didn’t really trust him to do what had to be done. ‘Might make it easier.’

Garrett shook his head. ‘No. It won’t. Nothing will make it easier but the knowing that it might help keep Kendra safe.’

Don raised an eyebrow. ‘Kendra?’

‘Never mind, OK? Let’s just do it.’

Carla stood under the large umbrella, waiting in the downpour like the rest of the press. She could feel the skin along the back of her neck prickle. He could be watching her – the stalker. Jesus, he could be watching her! He certainly never seemed to miss anything. She half expected to get an enraged text from him any minute demanding to know why she hadn’t followed his advice, why she hadn’t gone around to the back yard. But she was a journalist first, and if Garrett Thorne was going to give an interview without Tess by his side, and if Tess’s PR person had shown up, then there must be something major kicking off. She needed to know what Thorne had to say.

Next to her, Mike Pittman’s iPhone buzzed with an incoming text and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Jesus, Tess’s stalker had done a number on her. Had he really been lurking in the woods behind Ellison Thorne’s mansion last night? There was no way of knowing without questioning Garrett or Tess. Not for the first time she wondered if maybe that’s exactly what she should do.

The front door of the house opened and Carla forced her attention front and center as Garrett Thorne stepped onto the porch next to Tess’s publicist, Don Bachman. As dapper as Don looked, Garrett looked pretty poorly slept with. Were he and Tess breaking up? If what the stalker said was true, Tess could be on a flight to anywhere by now. There was a muttering among the soggy press and everyone pushed forward to get closer.

Garrett Thorne stepped to the railing around the edge of the porch, and stood just out of the assault of the rain. For a second he closed his eyes, and Carla was afraid for him. He didn’t seem well. He seemed like wherever he was, it wasn’t a good place to be. Then he hauled a deep breath into his chest, cleared his throat, and suddenly everything went silent except for the pattering of rain against the roof and against the tops of the umbrellas. ‘I’m sorry to bring you all out into the weather,’ Thorne said, ‘but I promise what I have to say won’t take long.’

Don Bachman leaned forward and spoke quietly in Garrett Thorne’s ear, and no matter how everyone in the press held their breath, there was no making out what was said. Thorne shook his head and took another step forward until he was leaning out over the rail of the porch, oblivious to the rain.

Mike Pittman was his usual rude self. ‘Where’s Ms. Delaney?’ He spoke above the rain. ‘And why isn’t she here with you?’

The tight silence of anticipation was broken by the rev of an engine and the screech of tires as a blue Audi jerked to a stop in front of the house. The door burst open and Tess Delaney practically catapulted from the seat looking way more casual than Carla, or anyone else, had ever seen her in the brief time she’d been in the public eye.

‘I am here.’ She spoke in a loud, clear voice. For a second, she stood facing the two men on the porch, ignoring the downpour around her. There was a muttering of awe as the press parted and Tess literally ran up the sidewalk and onto the porch. She was completely drenched by the time she reached Garrett Thorne. She pushed her way in close, grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him hard.

It was frustrating as hell. Once again, no one could hear what Tess whispered to him, but she practically manhandled Garrett back into the house, with Bachman mumbling an embarrassed apology before he followed them in and shut the door.

Inside, Kendra wasted no time. ‘Don, stay here,’ she shouted over her shoulder as she led Garrett, her hand still fisted in his shirt, to the kitchen. ‘I need to talk to Garrett alone.’

Once they were in the kitchen, she slammed the door that separated it from the rest of the house and turned on him. But he beat her to the draw.

‘How the hell did you get here? Ellis and Dee promised me they would keep you there, that they would keep you safe.’