Fear Familiar Bundle (124 page)

"Pepper canisters. Someone broke into the Bingington house tonight while I was checking it for the dinner tomorrow. I think they might have put something in the pepper containers."

It sounded crazy. How did she know this, and why would she suspect the pepper canisters? Unless she knew a lot more than she was telling.

"I'd better come over and talk with you in person." Was it official duty that prompted that remark or human desire? Daniel had a hunch he already knew the answer.

"No, it's late." Sarah felt a pinch of guilt. She'd meant to wake him up but not to drag him from his bed in the middle of the night. Besides, seeing him only confused her.

"I insist."

"I'm really fine. We can talk about this tomorrow. I was wondering if I should keep the pepper containers. I was going to throw them away— "

"Don't! Don't throw anything away. I'll be there in less than half an hour." Before she could disagree, Daniel replaced the receiver. As he reached for his clothes, he was already thinking ahead. If Sarah intended to do any damage tomorrow at the dinner, the perfect alibi would be to call and say someone had broken into the house and tampered with the spices. Even more perfect would be to call the FBI.

If someone were poisoned, Sarah would be sitting pretty. She would have done everything in her power to prevent a calamity.

She was one smart woman. Smart and dangerous. He checked the clip in his automatic as he slid it into the pocket of his coat.

Daniel tugged at the starched white collar of his shirt and tried not to show his restlessness. Shoes shined to perfection, he was standing under the front portico of the Bingington house waiting for the last guest to arrive. Waiting to make sure that nothing unexpected happened. Although everything, so far, had gone as smooth as glass, there was still the feeling that warned of danger. He'd never made a claim to be psychic, but there were times when he
sensed
danger. And that extra edge of alertness had saved his life at least twice. Sarah and her pepper troubled him— enough to have him send the pepper to be tested.

As he nonchalantly adjusted the weapon in his shoulder holster, he could feel the gaze of the other valet resting on his back. As far as he knew, the valet was a regular guy who picked up extra bucks parking cars at a few posh parties. He had the look— trim, handsome, good manners. Daniel dropped his hands to his sides and slowly turned around to face the young man, a smile at the ready. "Hot today, isn't it? I think I'll get a glass of water." Without waiting for a response, he made his way around the house to the kitchen entrance. It was time for a check of the premises, and a look in on Sarah Covington.

At the large windows that gave a view of the enormous kitchen in the Bingington house, he paused. Sarah, her blond hair tucked neatly in a French twist, was bending over the oven. She wore white chef pants, but even in the baggy uniform, he could detect the outline of her firm posterior. She was a very attractive woman.

His perusal of Sarah was interrupted by another sensory assault— the most heavenly aroma wafted out to him. He identified it immediately as honey-baked ham. He could almost taste it when Sarah and a helper lifted the last huge ham, spiked with pineapples and cloves, from the oven.

There were four helpers in the kitchen with Sarah, and the place was a beehive of activity. Even though the room was large, every inch of space was in use. Checking his watch, he saw that the luncheon was due to officially begin in another fifteen minutes.

All of the expected guests had arrived except Governor Lester Peebles of Virginia. He'd been detained by some personal business— several members of his staff had quit in a tiff with his impossibly demanding wife— but he was coming. There had been no unexpected guests, no deliveries of any kind. Nothing had occurred that would indicate that any foul play was afoot.

Had Sarah been lying about the pepper?

The lab report would be complete later that afternoon. Until then, he was on the alert for any tiny detail that might warn of danger to the dignitaries attending the event.

The swinging door into the kitchen pushed open and a uniformed maid quickly refilled a tray of colorful hors d'oeuvres and went back out. It was rather amazing to watch the kitchen staff work so efficiently. He grinned at the thought that he could never manage to cook a steak, potato and peas and get everything done at the same time.

A tall, slender blonde he recognized as Ashley Bingington entered the kitchen and spoke to Sarah with a big smile. All appeared fine in the kitchen, and he continued around the house. As he checked the back entrance and found nothing, he couldn't help but remember his boyhood dreams of becoming an FBI agent. Like all kids, he'd pictured it as a life of sirens, guns and high drama. He'd wanted to chase down the bad guys and win the day. The reality wasn't quite as exciting. More often than not, he spent a great deal of his time reading reports and profiles, sitting in parked cars and standing in the hot sun on the alert. There had been moments of excitement, but those times always came with a price. Oftentimes, innocent people were the victims.

He made his way around the perimeter of the estate, then doubled back to the front. The valet on duty with him shot him a curious look just as a long, black Towncar arrived. Governor Peebles, looking harried, climbed out of the driver's seat. His chauffeur was obviously one of the staff members who'd departed.

"I'll take care of it," Daniel said agreeably to his coworker. "Why don't you take a break? There's some great food in the kitchen."

"Hey, man, thanks." The valet gave a small salute as he left.

Daniel drove the car down the drive to the tree-shaded area that had been designated for guest parking. The Bingingtons had thought of everything when they'd laid out the grounds for their home. He eased the car into a parking space. He had about two hours to kill before it would be time to begin the process of returning the cars to their owners. In that time, now that he had keys to all of the cars, he intended to do a little unauthorized checking.

If Sarah was being set up, then it was possible that one of the governors, or one of their guests, was involved. It was highly unlikely, but at least his search would help him pass the time. There was also the possibility that Sarah was working
with
one of the governors. With the economy on the downswing, each state was getting more and more competitive to attract new business.

He got out of the Towncar and went around to the back. As he popped the trunk open, he didn't hear the stealthy footstep in the grass. He never saw the flashlight that swung in a high arc and caught him just above the right temple. He never felt the gritty trunk of the car as he fell into it.

"That's what happens when a person sticks his nose into other people's business."

With a quick surge of energy, two strong arms lifted Daniel into the trunk and slammed it shut on him.

S
ARAH BLOTTED
the faint glow of perspiration from her brow and wiped over the counters one final time. Around her the Bingington house echoed with welcome silence. All of the guests were gone and the Bingingtons had retired upstairs. Sarah had dismissed the kitchen staff. Only the cleanup crew remained.

"Everything is spotless," Charmine, one of the crew, assured her. "Go on home. You're about to drop." She grinned. "But don't worry about those leftovers. I'll take care of them."

"Mrs. Bingington said we were to take everything." Sarah grinned back. The menu had been a smashing success. Though she had prepared abundant supplies of everything, most of it had been eaten as the governors asked for second helpings.

"I do believe you'll get some new clients," Charmine teased. "You'd better watch out, though. All of your clients are going to weigh two hundred pounds. You're going to become known as the Calorie Killer."

Sarah winced at the unintentional reminder of her earlier problems. Then she laughed, fatigue making her slightly slap-happy. "I certainly hope not. Now I'm going straight home. I've got another luncheon next week. You want the cleanup detail? I'll be glad to recommend you."

"You bet." Charmine winked. "Get some rest, hon, you look beat."

Sarah had parked her compact at the rear of the kitchen. All of her pans were already loaded. As she walked out the door, she wondered what had happened to Daniel Dubonet. She'd expected him to show up in the kitchen to eat. The other valet had taken a break for a quick lunch. She shrugged. Maybe Daniel had gotten a more urgent FBI call.

She drove straight home, barely noticing the flow of traffic or the familiar sights of the city. When she'd first come to Washington she'd been intimidated by the traffic and the sweep of humans who seemed to be in constant motion. Now, she hardly noticed it at all.

She did, however, notice the silver Mercedes parked at the entrance to her shop. A large smile spread over her face. As soon as she parked in the tiny slot behind her building, she ran to the car and tapped on the window. The door swung open and a tall, thin man in an expensive suit swept her into his arms.

"Chérie,"
he said, hugging her tightly. "You look exhausted. You are working too hard."

"Uncle Vince." She hugged him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on my girl." He held her away from him. "You look tired. How about a vacation? I'm going to New York tomorrow. Come along with me."

She grinned. It would be a great trip, but she had business. "I'd love to, but I can't."

"How is Mora?"

She motioned him inside as she unlocked the door. They went directly to her large kitchen. Sarah was always delighted whenever she heard Uncle Vince's special knock at her door. They'd spent many pleasant hours at her kitchen table and now, without asking, she put on a pot of strong coffee. "Mother's okay. You know how easily she becomes upset. We're perfectly fine." The temptation to tell Vincent Minton about the strange occurrence in the Bingington house was almost irresistible. But Sarah had given her word to Daniel that she would say nothing until the tests on the pepper were complete.

"Is something wrong?" Vincent asked. His dark brows, threaded with silver, drew together. "Is that agent still bothering you? Was there trouble at your job? Lucinda Watts was at the party, and she said everything went fine."

"No." She couldn't help but smile. "Nothing is bothering me. I've had a wonderful day, in fact. And I owe all of it to you." She kissed his cheek before she went to the cupboard for coffee cups. "I think my catering business is really getting off the ground." She started telling him about the Bingington event as she poured coffee for them both.

"You have talent, and you work very hard," Vincent said as he leaned back in his chair. His dark eyes followed her every move. "My son is accompanying me to New York. I would love for you to come along. You haven't seen Jean-Claude since you were children."

Sarah swallowed the hot coffee. "Yes, it has been a long time." But not nearly long enough, she thought. She had a vivid memory of a thin little boy with scabs on his knees and a mean streak a mile wide.

"Jean-Claude has grown up, Sarah. He is a handsome man. Very refined. With good manners." He laughed. "I know that's hard for you to believe. You knew him when he was a little monster. But all boys must be civilized. It was a long, hard, and in Jean-Claude's case, very expensive process."

Sarah laughed warmly, delighting in the twinkle in Vincent's eyes. Ever since Sarah and Jean-Claude were children, Uncle Vince had insisted that one day they would marry. Sarah had never given the idea more than a horrified thought. Even though Jean-Claude wasn't her blood cousin, she had no desire to even
think
about him romantically. But lately, Uncle Vince had mentioned it more than once. And now this trip…

"Jean-Claude has been working in the Schelbet vineyards for three years. He started out with the vines, learning everything from the very bottom. It has been good for him." Vincent reached across the kitchen table and picked up Sarah's hand. "He is very handsome."

"Like his father?"

"Ah, you are a flirt." He laughed. "I am glad to see that your heart has not turned into a lump of dough. I worry that you don't go out and have fun. You're only young once,
chérie.
"

"I meet more eligible men than any other woman in Washington," Sarah declared. "And if a man struck my fancy, I'd do something about it." Daniel Dubonet's face popped into her mind. He was the most attractive man she'd met in a long, long time. And he constantly made her remind herself of her desire to stay clear of men and relationships. "You and I both know my career comes first," she added, evading her own feelings.

"Think about New York."

"I can't." She shook her head. "I would go if I could, but I do have obligations. Maybe next time, but you have to give me a little more notice."

"Agreed," he said, putting his cup in the saucer. "Now, I must be off, and you need to finish up your work so you can relax."

"As soon as I finish my work, I'm going to take a long, relaxing walk, rent a movie and climb into bed," she promised him as she stood to give him a hug. "Thanks for everything you've done for me. And Mom."

"Thanks aren't necessary." He kissed her cheek.

Sarah walked him to the front door. She wanted to put the Closed sign up and make sure the locks were in place before she went upstairs to bed. She also wanted to check her messages on the answering machine. Maybe Daniel had called. He said he'd have the test results, and the day was drawing to a close.

She was slipping the latch into place when she remembered the handsome black cat. She hadn't heard a peep out of him since she'd returned.

"Kitty, kitty," she called up the stairs. Disappointment touched her heart. He was gone. He'd left as strangely as he'd arrived. With a heavy step she went up the stairs and searched her living quarters. Familiar was gone. Sarah consoled herself with the thought that such a well-kept cat belonged to someone and that he'd simply gone back to his home. Cats were notorious for their wanderlust.