A soft knock sounded on the door.
Velma walked in and set a tray down on the coffee table. “I brought coffee and cake,” she said in a whisper, a frown worrying her brow.
The housekeeper glanced from Courtney to Dylan and back again. She shook her head slowly and clicked her tongue. “This isn’t good.”
Courtney stiffened, frowning at the woman who’d seemed almost too friendly outside. “I’m only here for Dylan. Believe me,” Courtney retorted in a tight whisper.
“Calm down, dearie. I’m not judging you.” Velma studied her with an eerie gaze, as if she were trying to peer directly into Courtney’s soul.
After several moments, Velma nodded. She’d obviously made a decision. “You were right to come. Jared will protect you and your son, and he needed to know about young Dylan. It’s just...” Velma poured a cup of coffee, and a bit sloshed over the side.
“Bother.” She mopped up the spill, then gave up and sat in the chair opposite Courtney.
“I’m sorry for snapping. My nerves are frazzled,” Courtney muttered. She chewed on her lower lip. Dylan shifted against her chest, and she cradled the baby protectively. “All that matters to me is him.”
“As it should.” Velma twisted her hands in her apron before raising her chin and meeting Courtney’s gaze. “I’ll say this only once, and we’ll never speak of it again. If you hurt Jared, I won’t let it pass. You’ll find me a formidable enemy.”
Courtney didn’t know how to respond. She opened her mouth to speak and Velma held up her hand.
“But, if you are who I believe you to be, I’ll stand beside you and fight the powers of hell to protect Jared’s son.” She clasped Courtney’s hands. “I’m just afraid the two of you will break my boyo’s heart.”
Velma’s unexpected words slapped Courtney in the face. “I’m not trying to hurt him.”
“I believe you, but you will anyway. Jared might appear as impenetrable as a rock and too strong to wound, but he’s been injured to the core of his soul. He sealed off his heart. You represent every dream he ever had and a nightmare he’s barely survived.”
The enormity of Velma’s statement gave Courtney chills. “What happened?”
“It’s not my story to tell.” A marked sadness glistened in Velma’s eyes. “Ms. Jamison, you brought trouble here. Jared will give his life to save you and Dylan without a second thought. Please don’t pierce his armor. Leave him be. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt again.”
Before Courtney could process the cryptic words, Jared strode into the room. “We need a few moments, Velma. Alone.”
The housekeeper left with a last pointed look. Her words made Courtney examine Jared’s expression more closely. She recognized the tension tightening his mouth and the worry in his eyes. But also a caution that she might have interpreted as suspicion before she’d spoken with Velma.
He sat across from them and pinned her gaze with his. “You’ll stay. I’ll help Dylan all I can, but you need to be honest with me. About everything. Deal?”
“I expect the same.”
“That goes without saying.” He crossed his arms, building a thick and solid wall between them. “So, who do you think is threatening you?”
She’d known he would ask. She wished she had an answer. “I have no idea.”
His frown deepened. “You must have some theory. You have to have been thinking about it from the moment you read the note.”
“Of course I have.” She raised her voice slightly. Dylan squirmed in her arms and she forced herself to relax, lower her voice. “My life is simple and mundane. It’s just me and Dylan. I can’t imagine who would see me as an enemy.”
He didn’t respond but she could see the skepticism in his eyes.
“I’m telling you the truth.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve never heard of a ransom note before a kidnapping. Not to mention the unusually specific amount. Is it connected to your home, your family, your job?”
“The only numbers in my life matching over three million dollars are items from the gallery and my grandmother’s trust.”
Those words had him straightening is his chair in clear interest. “Trust?”
“It may sound promising, but it’s not what you think. The money is specifically earmarked for the running of the gallery. Even the penthouse where I live is reserved for the gallery curator. I have no access to the money.”
She stroked Dylan’s arm and the baby’s breathing evened again. “There have been a few protests and threatening letters at the museum because of the Native American exhibit. The artifacts were collected during the nineteenth century, but the museum is in the process of returning the authenticated pieces to the original tribes.”
“What are they worth?”
She understood the real question behind his query. “In total, a lot more than three million.”
“So it doesn’t explain the exact dollar amount.” Jared rubbed his temple. “How about one piece?”
“I’ll contact my assistant and have her look at the insurance values to know if any single artifact would match.”
“It’s a place to start,” Jared said.
“But why would they threaten my son and kill Marilyn?”
“Marilyn was collateral damage, as harsh as that sounds. Dylan is a way to guarantee the money, but the amount has to mean something.” Jared was silent for a moment. “What about relationships?”
The questions cloyed at the base of her neck. She recognized why he asked, but each query felt like an underlying accusation. “Don’t you think I’ve racked my brain, gone through every possibility? And just so we’re clear, I haven’t dated anyone since I learned I was pregnant with Dylan. He’s my only focus.”
“And before? Maybe someone who didn’t want to break up? A stalker?”
“I hate to go against the stereotype of what you see about New York women on TV and in the movies, but I was more focused on my education and proving myself in my career than in serial dating.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
The more she justified her life, the more the fury bubbled deep in her belly. “This is getting us nowhere.”
He winced. “You’re right. I’m not a cop, I’m a rancher. We need professional help.”
Courtney tightened her hold on Dylan. “Why am I afraid I’m not going to like what you’re about to say? Please don’t tell me you want to call the police.”
“Not the police, but a friend. He works for a company called CTC. Covert Technology Confidential. They’re local. I trust them, and they take...unusual jobs. On the down low. CTC has the expertise we need to identify who wrote that note.”
Her entire body shivered. Were they really going down this path? “What if all the guy wants is the money? What if we gave him the money and he does go away? Wouldn’t that be safer?”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I want to. I know you don’t want to give in to blackmail, and part of me agrees. But the part of me that’s desperate to protect Dylan thinks we should pay.” There. She’d finally spoken the words aloud.
With a solemn nod of his head, Jared contemplated her quietly for a few moments. “I understand. But I have to ask this. Could you live knowing he threatened to kill Dylan, wondering if